Author's note: This is a joint fic written by Lady Carrea and The Talented Mr Kipling.

Chapter 1:

Being back at the Guild was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand he had access to the biggest store of Healing information in the country, and he was nearer to those he cared for. But on the other hand, he was away from home and part of him longed to go back. Even now after arriving not so long ago, his heart ached to be back in the familiar countryside which welcomed him each day. He sighed. He hated being drawn in both directions. Fortunately the short walk through the Guild had lifted his spirits somewhat, and the sun shone down brightly sending warmth throughout him. As always the University glowed softly, towering high above them all, watching silently. The sweet smell of the gardens lingered as he approached them. A small group Healers walked in front of him, and laughed then went their separate ways. It's so happy here. As he glanced towards the hedges, he caught a glimpse of Sonea. Then she was gone. Frowning slightly, he went to investigate and soon found her sat in a small hedged section. He chuckled as he saw her jump, and joined her on the garden seat. It's nice to talk to her properly again. He thought as they spoke. But there is something out of place... Something more than Regin.

"I think your company is very enjoyable." He heard himself say with a gentle smile upon his face. Sonea quickly looked away, and he felt his heart twist violently. No, surely she can't.. He looked at her warily, then smiled again to hide the pain and shock. So soon? Dorrien carried on nonetheless, trying his best not to betray himself. After a while he looked up and found that Sonea had left. I can't believe it...

It was with a great sigh that he allowed himself to sink into the soft padded mattress on his own bed in the High Lord's Residence, revelling in the feeling of being cushioned and protected on all sides by expensive high quality fabrics. The times when he could fully treasure and bask in the privileges of simply being the Guild's leader were few and far between, like a favourite costume that gathered dust in the wardrobe. He had other personas, different outfits, but nowhere near as many as he'd had before his journeys in the Allied Lands all those years ago.

Ironic in a sense. Akkarin had always felt his life had been too busy back then and now it was too empty. His lowered gaze flicked expectantly up to the scarlet underbelly of the drapes dangled over him, as if expecting a reply or something to inform him that his statement was not true.

He held his gaze, boring holes into the fabric with his subtle glare, almost wishing for a second that it would indeed ignite. A whiff of burning, a wisp of smoke. Anything?

A heavy velvet like silence had descended over the room and the magician's gaze drifted from the drapes to the ceiling beside it as he focussed on sounds beyond the bedroom door.

The muffled sound of footsteps against the carpet in the Dining Room, the sharp chink of china knocking against each other – Takan was setting the table. A tap that hadn't been turned off completely, a floorboard creaking as his servant moved around downstairs.

But other than that...nothing.

The High Lord puffed his cheeks and pushed the air out between his lips, the noise sounding like a small eruption in the absolute quiet. Heavens, he was so bored. Maybe he could pay Lorlen a little visit, but that would have to wait for the moment – his assistant was also there with him, and Akkarin wasn't in the mood for giving out meaningless social pleasantries.

Osen had never held much love for him, even less so since he'd taken Sonea on as his novice; and so Akkarin offered him none back in return. Nevertheless, Lorlen seemed to have grown fond of his assistant over the years, and Osen's loyalty to his mentor was heartening – so for those reasons the young man's presence was tolerated.

Something to the right of him sharply caught his attention and he turned to face the window, wincing a little at the bright light that soaked into the otherwise dark room.

Mildly curious, Akkarin rose to his feet and went to the gap in the curtains, peering outside.

The glow of the mid-afternoon sun made everything he looked at shimmer with a strange ethereal light and the High Lord found the contrast between his quarters and the Guild grounds outside more than a little ironic; after all, it was mainly through his own efforts that the city had yet to be seized and conquered by a band of power-hungry Sachakan magicians that only he knew about. ...It almost made it sound as though he'd made them up himself.

His nails bit into the windowsill.

He was not hallucinating. He was not making it up, the Ichani were real and they existed; and they had been sending in spies to keep an eye on him. He was not being paranoid.

Then why won't you tell anyone about them?

Strategically, his first choice would have been Takan.

In fact, back in the early days of his arrival, the Sachakan had insisted that he help Akkarin, feeling somehow responsible for the damage his own people were inflicting. Akkarin had seen him fight that one time; the Sachakan had a magic potential on par with Lorlen's, and knew how dangerous the Ichani were. But...he'd also seen what that one occasion had done, it had gone terrible wrong when it turned out Takan and that particular spy had known each other from their days together in Sachaka. Akkarin knew that scar had taken time to heal over, and he couldn't ask his friend to do that again.

The High Lord's gaze slid to the gardens and settled on a familiar figure. Sonea wouldn't understand, wouldn't believe me without proof. The corners of his mouth twitched. She's too smart to fall for it...but what if-

His thoughts were interrupted as another figure appeared besides Sonea and she jumped, a little startled. Akkarin's eyes narrowed a little. So Rothen's son has returned to the Guild. The black robed magician was all too aware of what his novice felt for the young man, he had read it in her thoughts the day he truth-read her. Akkarin's lips curled a little. This man was a little too curious and nosy for his liking; finding hidden passages to the University roof, discovering the spring all by himself...and now he had taken a liking to Sonea, keeper of one of the biggest darkest secrets the Guild had to offer. It all seemed a little too...suspicious.

Yes, he thought as the young Healer sent her a gentle smile, Lord Dorrien was a problem he'd have to keep a close eye on. The boy was stubborn, hard-headed, and Akkarin didn't like strangers poking their noses into his business. Especially business that could potentially get him exiled or executed.

But as Sonea turned her head away abruptly, her mentor caught the Healer's look of anguish and despair and found himself feeling more than a little satisfied with the outcome, and mildly impressed with his novice's control and apparent indifference. There were small tendrils of guilt, knowing that she would not have rejected Dorrien were it not for his own secret, but that could not be helped. Admirably, the young managed to hold himself together and carry on the conversation, though it was evident Sonea's attention was elsewhere now. She got up and left, the Healer's face still deep in thought, and it suddenly occurred to Akkarin that Dorrien didn't realise Sonea had even left yet. Well, well – there was a cold, heartless side to his novice after all, it seemed.

Nevertheless, it saved him the work off having to chase away the young man himself, and he would be more likely to listen to her words than his anyway. In theory.

Two short raps on the door brought him back from his thoughts and Akkarin turned away from the window, using his magic to open the door for his self-proclaimed servant.

"Takan."

The Sachakan bowed briefly before stepping into the gloomy room, the flat package in his hand bright and eerie against the darkness. Akkarin stiffened at the sight of the heavy cream paper, eyes never leaving it even as Takan held it out to him. The material was dry and a little rough against his hands, but he knew that this was obviously must have been the best quality paper the Thief could obtain at the time, no-one even knew about their connection in the first place. Not even Takan, but judging by the expression on the Sachakan's face, he knew what the letter meant too. The murders in the city had started up again; Akkarin's next opponent had arrived.

After being stuck in a deep reverie for what felt like a few minutes, Dorrien realised that in fact a few hours had passed. Something doesn't quite add up. He decided. There is something out of place... Why would she try to avoid me, and my father? With a stretch, he stood and brushed down his crumpled robes. Now where would she be? His eyes glanced at the High Lord's Residence, and he shuddered. He didn't despise the owner, but something about his residence always made him want to stay away. If I have to go in, then I will. I must know what is going on. Slowly he made his way out of the gardens and reluctantly approached the gloomy building. The dark bricks seemed to draw in all light and the shadows hung heavily upon the floor.

"Dorrien?"

"Sonea!" Dorrien jumped finding her standing behind him puzzled.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you."

"Oh, well... Do you want to go for a walk? We could visit the spring again?" Sonea replied uncertainly.

Thoughts of the spring made Dorrien wince slightly, which he quickly tried to cover up by pretending something had blown into his eyes. "A walk is fine."

In silence they both walked carefully along the path, slowly heading towards the gardens once more. Seeing a group of magicians heading their way, Dorrien steered them both into the maze of hedges and garden seats.

After a few minutes he broke the silence carefully, "why are you avoiding everyone?"

"I'm not avoiding anyone – well except the High Lord when I can."

"Then why do you not see Father? You say it is because you are busy, and yet earlier I found you sat here in the gardens. Even a few minutes would be better than nothing."

"Dorrien, please-"

"I can tell something is wrong!" He said stopping and facing her, "my father may not ask why, but I will. I can see it in your expression."

"You are being irrational. There is nothing wrong!" She pleaded.

"Then show me." He said looking straight at her. Sonea stood dumbstruck for a minute, in shock of what he asked for.

"Do you not trust me?" She replied hurt in a small voice.

"Yes, of course I do." He frowned. "But... This isn't like you. I want to know things are alright."

She looked back at him trying her hardest to blink away the tears, "everything is fine."

"Then why do you have tears in your eyes?" He asked softly, pulling her into a hug. "Please show me?"

Letting Dorrien place his hands on her head, she opened her mind to him, and quickly showed him things were fine.

-I'm sorry I didn't believe you.

-I understand...

-I'll try and reassure Rothen fo-

As Dorrien mentioned his father, flashes of guilt flooded Sonea's mind. Alarmed, Dorrien looked closer as she fumbled to hide away loose thoughts.

-I was right!

-No!

-I saw it myself! This is to do with Akkarin.

Sonea pulled away from him and looked at him warily.

"Tell me Sonea, or I will ask Akkarin myself."

"I am not allowed-" Sonea's hands flew to her mouth as she realised she had said too much.

"Not allowed? Is he blackmailing you?"

"No!" Dorrien scowled then strode off back towards the Residence hastily. "All right, I'll say!" He stopped and looked at her with a frown.

"The truth? No avoiding things? I care about you Sonea, I will not stand by knowing something bad is going on."

"You must promise not to say a word to anyone. And also you cannot have your mind read."

"Yes, yes anything!"

"You can't do anything either. Promise me!"

"I promise."

She slowly walked up to him and checked around for any people. "I found out something I shouldn't."

"What?"

Gently she leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Akkarin knows and uses black magic."