Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or anything else original to the storyline or software of Fable II. The entire Fable franchise belongs to Lionhead Studios and Peter Molyneaux.

Author's Note: I deleted the previous story to start afresh. Hopefully, people will still like this story.

Chapter 1: Immediately After

"I wish to bring back to life all those who died in rebuilding the Tattered Spire."

Hannah could not believe what she had heard. Yet there was no doubting the Hero of Bowerstone's words. Sparrow's tall, muscular frame was ramrod straight, his gaze upon the blind Seer was unyielding, and his voice was filled with conviction. If Hannah had heard Theresa's options correctly (and she had), the Hero of Bowerstone desired the good of money above his own selfish gain, which had been offered in the form of money and in the resurrection of his beloved family.

"You understand then, that the resurrection of those who worked upon the Spire will void all other options?" Theresa asked, her voice an ethereal echo of Hannah's thoughts. "If this wish is fulfilled, there will be no second chance, no future opportunity, and no unexpected boon. Your sister Rose, your faithful dog, and your wife and children will not be returned to you."

Hannah remembered the one time she had visited Sparrow's home in Brightwood, shortly after the Hero of Bowerstone had escaped his long confinement in the Spire. The Hero's wife, Charlotte, was a graceful, willowy brunette woman who greeted Hannah at the door like a greatly missed relative, and his two sons, Joseph and William, were rambunctious children, eager to hear about Hannah's adventures with their father.

'"With little ones like that around,' she had said to the proud parents as the children scampered in the yard, "it makes me long to be a parent as well."

'"It's a taxing job, but you'll be glad to do it," Charlotte had responded from the sink. She dutifully had gathered and washed the dishes from their lunch together.

'"Yes, especially if you passionately desire a family," Sparrow had added, still seated across the table from Hannah. His gaze had turned wistful. "After Rose was killed…even before then, really…I wanted a family. Avo blessed us to have these two beautiful ones."

'Charlotte had stopped her scrubbing to gently hug her husband around his powerful neck. "And when Lucien's tyranny is defeated, we'll have even more."'

"I understand," Sparrow responded.

"Nor will you become a wealthy man. The few properties you own are still yours, but you will not have the sort of largesse you once desired to have."

Hannah studied Sparrow's face for any sign of weakness in his resolve. 'Even if Sparrow never placed much value in gold, I know I'd want the Abbot back if I had my will. Sparrow already refused to resurrect his family but the hearts of men are easily bent by the weight of gold. "More wealth than you could possibly imagine," Theresa had promised. He's too corrupt to not take it. Hero or not.'

"Take the wealth, you fool," Reaver urged. Hannah glared disdainfully past the blind Seer at the slender pirate-turned-Hero. "Who cares for a lost family or a dead dog? Buy a new one with your unimaginable wealth! Live the life of luxury you deserve to live. You're a Hero after all. Treat yourself lavishly!"

"The deviant is right," Garth growled from behind Theresa.

"Deviant?" Reaver gasped and clasped a hand to his chest as though wounded. "All because I enjoy dalliances with whomever…"

"You already gave up your loved ones," Garth continued, unfazed by Reaver's objection, "but think of what you could do with insurmountable wealth! You could singlehandedly catapult Albion into an advanced age of industry, technology, and science! The people of Albion would benefit tremendously!"

Hannah kept quiet.

"I've already made my decision." Sparrow set his gray eyes on Theresa's blind milk-white ones. "If I wished for the company of my loved ones, then the people of Albion certainly miss theirs. I will not deprive anyone else of that love because I placed my wants first. As I've spent most of my life working, it will be no challenge to continue to earn my gold the fair and just way. Let the people of Albion have their loved ones returned to them."

A soft hum built within the black walls around the four Heroes and the blind Seer. The central chamber began to glow a deeper blue as the vibration built into a rhythmic pulse. With a sudden flash of light, the blue glow in the chamber vanished through the walls. "Your wish has been granted, Hero of Bowerstone. The rest of you may make one wish as well," Theresa announced solemnly.

"What could a man so fortunate as I want?" Reaver mused arrogantly. 'Reaver's duplicitous, deceitful, and dastardly. Knowing his predilections, he'll probably wish to enslave all of Albion. Avo help us if he does,' Hannah thought. "I'm already blessed with overwhelming good looks, a perfect youthful body, wealth beyond my ability to count, lascivious adoring fans…."

"How about you wish to hold your tongue before I burn it off, eh?" Garth threatened. Theresa turned to the Will Master, while Reaver gaped in surprise and offense. "I wish to return to my people in Samarkand and train our mages to become the finest Will warriors."

"Very well, your wish has been granted." The same electric blue light that had followed Sparrow's wish accompanied Theresa's words, but this time, the glowing luminescence surrounded Garth before vanishing through the walls.

"Samarkand, hmm," Reaver mused. The blind Seer turned to him. "All those exotic, uninhibited people of both sexes, so lusty and exotic under the influence of a blazing sun and their fine local commodities? Yes, that is where I shall go! I wish to travel to Samarkand and accompany Garth!"

"Your wish has been granted." As with Garth, Reaver departed in a flash of blue light. Then Theresa turned to Hannah.

Hannah glanced at Sparrow. Moments ago, the Hero of Bowerstone had been self-assured and confident in the magnanimity of his wish. He had stood proudly for the people of Albion and sacrificed his good for theirs. Now Reaver and Garth had departed for a foreign land together. Hannah had expressed more than once her yearning to join the highly skilled Warrior Monks of the Northern Lands, if only to return to the monastic lifestyle she had known before Lucien Fairfax's brutality had ended the life of the only father she had known.

'Each of us has someone to go to, except Sparrow. He'll be alone, wandering destitute because he gave up everything a man could want for the people of the land.'

"I won't leave anything behind, except the best friend I've ever had," Hannah said, beaming at Sparrow. "I wish to study, alongside Sparrow, under the Warrior Monks of the Northern Lands."

Theresa nodded. "Very well. Your wish has been granted." As the blue light engulfed the Heroes in a warm, tingling sensation, the blind Seer added, "Do not attempt to return here again, Heroes. The world of Albion and all its neighbors is yours to explore. But the Spire is mine alone."

When the light and its warmth vanished, Hannah gazed upon a world of pure, staggering whiteness. 'Have I gone blind? Is that a consequence of the Spire's traveling method, to go blind?' "SPARROW!" she bellowed in panic.

Then she felt the icy wind biting at her skin. Hannah shivered, even though her considerable bulk protected her from the worst of the wind. 'Wait, I'm in the Northern Lands. This whiteness, it must be….What did the Abbot call it?'

"SNOW!" Sparrow yelped. Hannah spotted the Hero of Bowerstone's long black hair bobbing in a deep drift. At first, she suspected he had gained telepathy as one of his Will abilities, but Sparrow was merely laughing enthusiastically, frolicking in the pure white powder. He threw a handful of the stuff over his head and tried unsuccessfully to catch it on his tongue. "It's snow, Hannah! Snow!"

The Hero of Strength giggled at Sparrow's sudden happiness. "You look like a little boy playing out here like that!"

Sparrow whooped and hopped toward her through the drifts. Hannah couldn't understand how he had gotten yards and yards ahead of her in only a few seconds of contemplation. "I haven't played in a snowdrift since I was little, when Rose and I still lived in Bowerstone. I'm sure Hunter would love it out here! Not to mention Joseph and William!"

Hannah's face fell at his words. "Sparrow…."

"Those boys," Sparrow laughed recklessly, "never run out of energy! Just the other day, Charlotte was telling me how they ran right over the hedges chasing a ball, and…." The Hero of Bowerstone doubled over with laughter.

"Sparrow…"

"I doubt I could ever give them any sweets." He shook his head. "What is it, Hannah?"

The Hero of Strength searched for the right words. 'I hope that Spire travel spell didn't addle his brain somehow.' "Sparrow, your children are dead. So is your wife, and your dog. Remember?" The Hero of Bowerstone's joyous expression died. "Lucien attacked us atop Hero's Hill and told us how he'd killed your family before he tried to kill you. Hunter saved your life by sacrificing his. And then…"

"And then I got my revenge in the Spire." Sparrow's ruddy face was streaked pale with tears. "I remember. That's why I'm here."

Hannah moved toward him, but Sparrow sniffled and the fat tears stopped rolling from his eyes. "Sorry. Sometimes it's still hard to think about them. Or think about them." Sparrow rose to his feet and jerked his head across the plain. "Is that the monastery in the mountains?"

"I can't really tell, Sparrow." As the Hero of Strength, Hammer lacked the enhanced vision possessed by Reaver, the Hero of Skill, or Sparrow. Garth even had better vision because of his monocle. To Hannah, the distant mountains only seemed to be a rise of whiteness emerging from the plain.

"It must be. Theresa wouldn't have placed us too far from the monastery. Come on, I'm getting cold." He started to trek across the valley toward the mountains, and Hannah followed.

Although she was grateful that the mountains were a short hike from them, Hannah also became thankful for her enhanced muscle mass. As the Hero of Strength, Hannah packed more muscle mass than anyone, including Sparrow, could hope to ever achieve. She was so powerful that one blow from her favorite hammer could kill a full-grown man. This bulk protected her to a degree from the biting winds of the Northern Plains, but a thick layer of furs would have helped her even more.

Sparrow, on the other hand, was all lean muscle. His elegant but flimsy Explorer outfit did not protect his body from the biting winds and the bone-stiffening cold. The Hero of Bowerstone hiked far ahead of her, even when the winds began to howl at sunset. 'I wish I could protect him, but he's so far ahead of me. I just wish I were stronger and faster. I supposed Theresa deposited us this far from the monastery to test our mettle in some way. Never can trust those Will-flingers, except for Sparrow. He's the bravest, most selfless man I know.'

"Come on, Hannah! Not far now!" he encouraged her as he began the dangerous ascent to the mountainside monastery. The mountain that had seemed easy to climb now towered over their heads, an obstacle to be dominated. More than once, Hannah's foot or hand slipped and she found herself gazing down the steep mountainside at the jagged rocks that could lead to her death or disability.

Each time she slipped, Sparrow was there with his hand extended and a warm, reassuring smile on his face. "Come on, Hannah. Don't give up now," he said each time.

'I made a wise choice when I wished for his company on this expedition,' the Hero of Strength thought as they crested over one last granite boulder to gaze upon the ascetic home of the renowned Warrior Monks.

As they approached the monastery, it's looming double wooden doors studded with brass handles opened for them without knocking, and revealed a long dark hallway with an eerie coolness to its granite walls. The two Heroes entered and spotted a row of shrouded monks on either side of the hallway, their gender distinguished only by the shapelessness of their cassocks.

"Hello?" Hannah said meekly. "We're seeking the Warrior Monks. Would that be you lot?"

"Yes," came a reply from one of the monks.

"Well then," Hannah forced herself to say cheerfully, "we've come looking to join and fight alongside you."

"Membership is not given, it is earned," intoned another monk in a voice that reverberated on the stone walls like a gong.

"If you wish to join us, you must pass the test," added the thin, reedy voice of an old man.

"What kind of test?" Sparrow asked.

"Follow me." One of the monks broke rank and started down the cool granite hallway. The other monks followed him in four columns. Hannah glanced at Sparrow, questioning her wish to train with the legendary Warrior Monks. The Hero of Bowerstone shrugged his shoulders. 'I hope I haven't made a mistake in coming here,' she sighed and started down the hallway as well.

The motley party emerged into a vaulted central chamber. The magnificent roof was supported by columns thrice as wide around as Hannah and which seemed to be carved of one piece of granite along with the roof. Torches in groups of four on every column suffused the room with warmth and a personable glow, but the racks that lined the walls destroyed any image of welcoming. Axes, swords, clubs, hammers, and maces all hung from the racks. Hannah quickly surveyed the room while Sparrow studied cautiously. "What is our test?" Hannah asked innocently.

"You will fight. Or you will die."

Before Hannah could register the words and think 'What in Avo's name is going on? They want us to fight?' the warriors pulled out a variety of weapons and launched themselves at Hannah and Sparrow. Hannah dodged to her left and Sparrow somersaulted to his right as a particularly tall monk swung a heavy broadsword at their heads. The sword ate into a pillar behind Hannah's back. She kicked out her right leg, caught the warrior's right knee in a bone-cracking crunch, and rose to her feet, pulling out her hammer while the monk clutched his knee in pain. 'Guess it's a good thing we didn't bring furs. They'd be more hassle now than we needed.'

Hannah swung the shoulder over her head, ready to crush the monk's skull. "Don't kill him!" Sparrow yelled. She shot him a quizzical look as he thrust the pommel of his sword into another warrior's stomach. "Don't kill any of them! They aren't the enemy."

'Sparrow might be right. This doesn't seem insidious.' The thought of mercy departed almost immediately, as a man's meaty fist clocked her on the jaw and caused her to stumble backwards. The broadsword-wielding monk was now joined by a monk whipping a heavy iron chain over his head and a shorter, mace-bearing monk. Hannah balanced herself and held up her hammer defensively. 'Alright, so I can't kill you. I wouldn't want to anyway, as you haven't done anything to justify the shedding of your blood. But I will maim you to the best of my ability.'

The warriors' patience extinguished before Hannah's did, and they lunged at her as a unit. She blocked their high attacks with the handle of her hammer, deflected their low jabs with the handle, and redirected their midrange blows with a turn of the hammer. When the chain bearer whipped his iron at her in an effort to strangle Hannah, she caught the chain on the handle of the hammer, yanked it from his hand, and whipped the double weapon in a wide circle before her. All three warriors stepped back, which gave Hannah the opening to knock out their legs from under them.

Another fighter launched himself at Hannah's head with an ax raised over his shoulder. She had to restrain her strength when she whipped the hammer around and caught the warrior in his small chest. She twirled it over her left shoulder and blasted another warrior in his kneecap with a jab of the handle of the hammer.

Three more warriors converged upon Hannah. She improvised a roar and slammed the head of the hammer into one's stomach, while the other two collapsed after Hannah butted them in the heads with the hammer.

More combatants flew at them, and it became harder for Hannah to use non-lethal force against them. She found herself surrounded by a small force of warriors ready to annihilate her. Thinking quickly, Hannah slammed her hammer on the ground. The impact radiated throughout the stone floor, creating a pattern of cracks as it rippled beneath the fighters' feet and toppling them like a pattern of dominoes.

"Stop!"

Hannah paused with her hammer over her shoulder. Sparrow crouched and aimed his sword like a skewer over his shoulder. Another monk clothed in a brown cassock stepped forward and removed his shroud. He was a tall, burly man with skin darker than Hannah had seen on anyone before. Swirls of fine blue tattoos danced across his alluring face, gleaming bald head, and tree trunk-like neck and disappeared into his robes.

"You have passed our test. Welcome to our ranks."