Chapter 2

Her wrist felt like it was being stabbed. A moment of temptation hit when they passed the opening wing leading to the mending wing and she could smell the freshly boiled and dried bandages, but she remained quiet and followed Fastion. A mended wrist wouldn't be very useful if Mornhaven attacked them without warning. The idea was a waking nightmare, scary for it was all too possible. If such an attack became reality, it could wipe out everything. They were already limited when it came to fighting the ancient evil and now that he was wounded, he seemed more dangerous and unpredictable in Karigan's mind. If suffering one more hour of pain would help get Sacor City defensible, then she would willingly put up with it.

They continued into the plushly carpeted royal wing. There was a Weapon at the door that she didn't recognize, but he spoke with Fastion and she was ushered through the entrance. Fastion gave her one of his rare, tight lipped smiles before disappearing behind the closing door. Inside sat the King and Captain Mapstone with their heads bent in quiet conversation. Walking across the well-polished marble floor, her boots clipped, echoing loudly enough to announce their late-night visitor. There was a moment were they did not look at her, but when they did, the world seemed to freeze. Both saw her, but nothing happened.

The moment was soon broken.

"Karigan!" her captain yelled and half rose from her seat in alarm. The King remained in his cushioned chair and stared at her in shock. The pain and dreadful urgency of their situation faded for a moment as Karigan became aware of her wild state. With knotted hair and ruined clothing, she must look little better than a groundmite. How long had it been since she had properly washed herself? Fastion hadn't seemed to mind, however, this company was entirely different than the weapon. She could guess how she looked. By the way Zachary was staring, it could not be good. After months in Blackveil, Karigan become used to the black dirt stains, stale clothing, and the constant smell of fear-induced sweat. Here in Sacor City, with its public baths and servant-filled tubs, the stench must be an unpleasant assault on every clean person in her proximity. Her reluctance and embarrassment were overruled by a sense of urgency and she stood as tall as she could to state, "Majesty, I am here to report—" Her teeth clamped shut at the end as the throbbing in her leg sharpened. She blinked, insistent her eyes would not water.

Finally remembering his duty, Zachary returned from his stasis of silence and shock and offered her the seat across from them. Karigan found it hard to look meet his gaze and focused on the intricately woven table cloth instead. It was gold and white. The distraction is what she needed. Steeling herself for the following discussion, she began with the most crucial update, "Mornhaven is back." They all knew this would happen eventually, but she knew the words would be like a physical blow. As quickly as she could, she told of entering the forest, the first attack coming from the flesh eating hummingbirds, and the almost immediate death of Private Porter. She tried to keep the gory details to a minimum, but as she spoke the images flashed vividly in her mind. When she had to recount their experience at Telavalieth, she faltered for a moment. She remembered Hanna, the kind healer, and how she had been pulled screaming into the ruins. The tale went on.

The dank memories of the forest seemed so real as she recalled them, that she didn't even notice when her voice slipped into a rhythmic cadence to match the passing of time. When she started telling about the entrance into Argenthyne, she lost all traces of her 'professional messenger' tone. Her words came out soft and her eyes took on a bottomless quality, as if she was lost in the memory of the timeless place. She didn't notice the concern on her Captain's face, nor the uncomfortable shift of Zachary as he watched her eyes transform.

"It was Ealdaen's home and he led us into their queen's city. The streets and buildings curved with an endless quality and walking through them gave the feeling of immense loss. As we passed, I heard the city talking like whispering mourners. We arrived at the sleeper's grove, but it had been tainted by Mornhaven's presence. Here we were attacked, we had little warning and before we knew what was happening, a groundmite's arrow had slipped past Graelalea's armor." The immensity of what was to happen next made Karigan's mind slow and her words came out carefully and she unconsciously touched the feather still tucked into her braid. "As she was dying, Graelalea gave me back some of my memory that had been locked away by Laurelyn, an enmorial only to be used at the proper place and moment."

Clearly wanting to ask something, Lauren was about to interrupt, but Zachary stopped her with a shake of his head. Unaware of this interaction, Karigan continued to tell of Ard's assassination attempt, as if she couldn't stop until the story was over, Karigan went on to tell them of Laurelyn and her aid of the sleepers' journey back to the Elt Wood. As she told of the mirror man and his mask, Karigan's eyes cleared and she finally took notice of the two watching her intently. Captain Mapstone was obviously concerned, but Zachary's face held no expression at all.

"Yates is dead and I have no idea what happened to the others." With this conclusion, Karigan pulled her pained arm to her chest and slumped back into her chair. She was so tired, she could have slept then.

Captain Mapstone's voice broke through the reverie, "Karigan, how seriously are you wounded?" From the look on Captain Mapstone's face, she had wanted to ask that for a while. Karigan looked down, there was some fresh blood that had seeped through her uniform from the cuts made by the broken mask, but not enough that would tell of a deadly wound.

"My wrist is broken, I have some minor cuts", she responded and with a grimace, "I think my leg has been infected for weeks." All the evaleoren and other Eletian medical supplies had been lost with Hanna. Much had occurred since that day in Telavalieth.

"Is there anything else you need to tell us that cannot wait until tomorrow?" It was the king.

At first, his airy voice seemed inviting and Karigan wanted nothing more than to be able to talk to him about simple, everyday things. She couldn't remember a time when they had been able to talk on a personal level. Their conversations had always been about the country's welfare. On those long nights when she was in Blackveil, she'd had too much time to think about their history and she'd begun to doubt if they knew each other at all. The love he had professed might just be some ideal he'd created in his head. Could he really know what she was like? She looked towards his honey voice hoping for confirmation, but there was none of the usual comfort in his gaze. Instead, his eyes were flat and closed. A quickly, pulled up version of his King's mask. It took her a moment before she realized it was a hint of wariness that she saw lingering. Was he just on guard because of the news she'd brought or was this new wariness because of her?

"Karigan?" He sounded unsure.

"Um…" She had to gather her thoughts, "No, that is most of it."

"Then you are free to go." She nodded her ascent and pulled her stiff body out of the chair. Captain Mapstone rose with her and opened the door. "Steven? Fastion? Would one of you escort my rider to the mending wing?" There was a murmur of agreement and she ushered Karigan out the door. As she departed, Captain Mapstone gave her a look that promised further questioning in the future. Karigan didn't care. She was exhausted and very relieved that she would have a real bed to sleep in. Her mission was complete. At the moment, she was very content to let others handle the responsibility of Mornhaven.

*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*

After a murmured word, Steven nodded to Fastion and opened the door to allow the Lady Knight into the Royal Apartments. Few would have such blatant trust from the Black Shields, but Karigan had proved herself to have the best interests of the kingdom at heart. After she disappeared into the apartments, Fastion stood guard on the other side of the door. He was off duty, but with Karigan's tract record for dangerous message errands, there was bound to be something requiring his attention before the night was over. In the very least, he would have to make a report to the Commander of the Shields.

Karigan's reappearance was too important to not be recorded immediately.

The Black Shields kept records dating back to the long war and many of the older lores were wrought with impressions of Mornhavon's single-handed terror. Since the Spring Equinox, the King's Strategists and Generals had dozens of meetings where all they would do was poor over these histories of the Long War. An enemy cannot be defeated if he is unknown. Mornhavon, should he return, would have to be met on his own terms. This fact did not make Fastion rest well. With limited time, men and resources there was little they could do against someone so strong in the old powers. In the Long War they had mages, but those had long since been eradicated from these lands. Some of the Generals proposed to send the navy in search of distant Kingdoms for the sorcerers who might still reside there, but to Fastion it seemed risky and hardly feasible. Bringing a stranger in and trusting him with everything you had was never a good idea.

Zachary's Administration had survived Amilton's Coup attempt and the brief soiree with the Second Empire renegades. General Burke did not even have a proper army. Yet these could not prepare them for what they now faced. The threat of Shawdell, the Eletian Prince, had been nothing compared to Mornhaven at full strength. Even then, the Kingdom would have been lost had Karigan not stepped up to confront the inhuman strength. She could do things swords could never accomplish. Her absence had been noted. They could hardly afford the vulnerability in these uncertain times.

When he found Karigan lying there, alive and breathing, a great weight had left his chest. She he had faced the evil multiple times and was, albeit miraculously, still alive. It meant that they still had a chance. So here he stood, waiting for her, because he knew that if she was still alive, then they still had a fighting hope. He needed to make sure she was ok.

As if triggered by his thoughts, wing beats broke the silence of the corridor and Fastion's body was filled with tension. This experience had happened once before. Part of the acceptance ceremony into the Black Shields is a test of their patron god. It had not been so many years since his initiation that he'd forgotten the feeling of being filled and taken over. There was the same rhythmic pounding that resonated through his body, as if his blood's regular habits were swept away with the power coming towards him.

"My faithful servant", the greeting echoed inside his head. It was a slightly painful experience, but he remained calm and still, aware that his fellow weapon Steven and any passersby would only hear Westrion's words if the god desired it. He kept his head bowed in reverence until a powerful hand compelled his chin up, tilting until his humane, grey eyes met the bottomless globes in Westrion's face. Their intensity drew him and he felt as if he was falling through the universe. His feet were still firmly on the carpet outside King Zachary's apartments, but his mind was transported far away, to see as the gods observe the mortal worlds. There was a burning sensation as if his eyes were not made for this, but Westrion was making it happen. Stars and lands could be seen in the clearly in distance. Places he had never imagined to exist. Shooting through the darkness between them were indistinct veins. They were everywhere, giving a texture to the universe around them. He didn't have to ask the question before the answer was offered.

"They are lives," Westrion's voice hurt less in this space without mundane walls to constrain it. Instead of echoing painfully, they just faded away.

Westrion took him closer, till the texture itself came alive in front of him. There were lines everywhere, every color imaginable, shooting around, splitting and joining together. Against the darkness, they shone and vibrated. Each line moved in its own individual way. Little lives and potentials, all intertwined to create the whole texture of this place. Looking at the whole of it made his eyes burn more. Finally, they drew closer to a particular plane of lines and stopped next to a long silvery green strand. This line didn't seem to have a direct path like the others it intertwined with, yet despite its seeming randomness, it remained thick and bright.

Following the line, Westrion placed a series of images in Fastion's head. Karigan was prevalent in each of these scenes. Of all the lines Fastion had seen, it was fitting hers was the most unpredictable and luminous. He witnessed her standing up to several school yard bullies and then fighting a huge crab-like creature. Next she rode at a break-neck speed, branches slashing her face as she went through the thick forest; then speaking to a tall woman whom he recognized as the First Rider. He witnessed her first confrontation with Mornhaven and then Zachary's heartfelt, but ultimately fruitless admission of love. With uneasiness, Fastion noticed how Karigan's once bright life-line suddenly didn't seem as fiery as it had before. He had thought there'd been a change within her this past year. It was clear to him, but he had not understood its extent.

"So you have noticed." Westrion's statement was in his head, as if they were his own thoughts. The god proceeded to flash a continuum of events and information through the Black Shield. Scene after scene played and eventually he saw one of her riding Salvistar. The implication was hard to miss. Karigan was no ordinary King's messenger. Despite those incredible things she'd survived, Fastion had never dreamed she was close to the gods. He knew he must tell Addison and the others.

"Tell them. Protect her. Protect Sacor City..."

The events kept streaming past. The images changed from the streets of Sacor City and out of the normal Sacoridian forest grew great black trees and dangerous things. Many of them passed by: hummingbirds and strangling vines and a forest floor ready to consume those who lay on it for too long. He saw Karigan's leg become infected and the poison slowly taking over her body. He saw her arm broken by a horde of skeletal beings. Each time Karigan was hurt in some way, the silvery green line representing her life would wan and weaken.

Westrion continued, "…not only from enemies, but also from friends. You have served me well in the past. Be her companion. Help her and your Kingdom will survive."

At that, Fastion was returned to his body standing in the corridor. Just then, the door opened.

Disoriented, he stared blankly at Captain Mapstone's familiar face, "Steven? Fastion? Would one of you escort my rider to the mending wing?"