Authors note: No, don't own Velgarth and all that Mercedes Lackey shoved in there.  Yes, do own Menith, Neoka, Amaro . . . and just every other character in here, come to think of it.  So, in short, all rights go to those who have a right to them.

It was strange. 

The room he had inhabited for the last ten years, the room he had just about grown up in, seemed almost as if it belonged to some bizarre, unknown person. 

Neoka looked around as he stood in front of the door, his face and eyes detached. 

Yes . . . very strange.

All the knick knacks he had collected over the years, all his school-books, clothes, even his shoes looked unfamiliar.

And all because he'd spent less than a week in Hardorn, all because 'Nasa had . . .

With a disgusted, throaty-sound, Neo threw his pack on the bed, entering the room with long, impatient strides.

He stopped at his open closet, glancing at the expensive mirror hanging beside it.  He was still in his purloined Whites, though they were anything but white now, smeared with dirt and sweat.  He could even see blood on it.

He covered his eyes with his right hand, frowning at how shaky it was. 

He needed to take a bath, get changed, get some food in his belly, and then go to sleep . . .

He groaned.  Sleep sounded so good at the moment.  He was tempted to skip his list, just fall over right there and sleep.

But he didn't want to spend another second in those hated Whites, thinking about all that had happened while he had been in them.

***

Menith sighed bitterly as he sank into the steaming bath tub, his muscles felling like they'd been stretched over a good few leagues and hadn't been snapped back yet.

Bloody saddle . . . he thought, grimacing as he slid into a semi-comfortable position, just cause I broke it's spine didn't mean it could break mine . . .

Maybe later on he could smile at the thought that he gave as good as he got to the blasted thing.  It was no more than scrap leather now, thanks to the grueling ride from Hardorn to Haven.  But really, if he smiled now, he'd break something else.

As the heat from the water seeped slowly into his bones, he closed his eyes and tried to get his thoughts in order.

Neoka was dead on his feet the entire trip back . . . and Amaro wouldn't say a word to any of the Companions, according to Hyatee . . . something really bad happened in Hardorn.

Well, that much was obvious.  It was also obvious that whatever happened had something to do with Neoka's sister.  Menith just didn't know what.

When the barrier between Valdemar and Hardorn went down, for some reason, I was sure Neoka had perished . . . something that big can't have been easy to destroy . . . especially since it absolutely reeked of that damned Sickness.

He cautiously wiggled his fingers, letting out a satisfied grunt when the movement only twinged a little.

And I'm going to need to know just what in the hells happened over there by the time I go up before the Council tomorrow.  I'm going to look like an idiot if I tell them what I know now.

:Don't worry so much, Chosen,: Hyatee, his Companion, said sleepily in the back of his head, :Amaro's mother is trying to get Amaro to talk, so we'll know what happened by morning.  Get out of that bath and go to sleep, little brother.  Your thinking is giving me a headache.:
Menith sighed, then followed his Companion's instructions . . . mostly because he was going to do so anyway . . . or so he told himself.

***

Amaro laid out on a grassy hill overlooking the Collegium, his legs sprawled out and his neck and head flat on the ground.

Emery, his mother, stood a few feet away, looking down at him worriedly.

She had every right to be worried, of course.  He hadn't spoken since he and Neoka had left Hardorn.

:Amaro, stop this nonsense,: she demanded suddenly, snorting in annoyance, :tell me what happened!:

He didn't move.  Why didn't any of them get it?  How could he tell them anything when everything in his head was so knotted?  He didn't even know if he could string words together properly!

It had been like that ever since they'd left Hardorn.  By "they", of course, he meant himself and . . . and his Chosen.

He blinked up at the starry sky, wondering if Neoka could truly be called that.  It wasn't a Choosing in any sense of the word.  There'd been no "looking in the other's eyes", no "falling in absolute and complete love", there wasn't even the customary exchange of wonder!  No shared thoughts of "never ever leaving the other", or even a feeling of something being filled.

It was all wrong!

And the worst part, the most horrible part of it was Amaro couldn't do a thing about it.

He couldn't ignore Neoka.  The boy was everywhere now.  In the back of his head, buzzing like a summer-time fly.  Even in his oats!  Amaro could have sworn his food tasted like Neoka's thoughts.

They couldn't grow apart over time, either.  A Bond didn't work that way.  Time meant nothing.

And to Repudiate Neoka . . . not even considering the emotional and mental issues that came into play, it was just too dangerous for such a thing.  They had Bonded when Neoka had been completely open, fighting his sister and the Mage.  All his Channels wide and unblocked.  Once Amaro had reached for the boy's mind, there was no going back. 

Their Bond was just too big.  If Amaro hadn't been holding himself back with every scrap of Shielding he possibly could, Neoka would have been a second skin.  It would have been difficult for them not to move in unison, for the gods' sake! 

Repudiating Neoka was not only an impossibility, it would have meant instantaneous death for both of them.

Beside him Emery sighed.  There was a soft swish of movement, and she was gone.

Amaro couldn't feel guilty at the moment.  He was too tired, and too confused to feel much of anything.

Authors note: o_O it feels weird, not writing at least six more pages for this but . . . I don't have much time at the moment.  Things have gone from busy, to hectic, to downright chaotic.  In the past few months I've had my leg broken, my aunt die, my friend get pregnant then married, major school problems, a new goldfish, some irritating and debilitating computer problems, and a general lack of sleep.  *sighs* just thinking about it makes me grouchy.

Anywho, there were a few problems with getting this thing out.  Those computer problems ate up all of my saved files, so any documents I had in planning this sequel out are lost in giga-space now.  Presently, I'm writing this on memory, along with a few notes that I have in my notebook.

Also, the re-make of the ninth chapter of Blue to White is being rebuilt by memory.  It'll be up the moment I get a chance.

*thinks* er . . . I guess that's about it.  Don't forget to review!  It majorly boosts my will to write ^^