Someone was pressing something wet to my head. Someone was talking. Oh gods… My head hurts so much.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. What do you think I am?"

Another voice started to yell. It was so loud.

"I have never trusted you or your kind! I knew what you are!"

"Janos, please let the Seer do what she can without this fighting."

"No no, Vorador. I find his misguided views of my race interesting, do let him continue."

That voice. I know that voice.

… I think.

Janos stormed out of the room, fuming. That Hylden had taken over the care of him. Why Vorador insisted that she could help baffled him. A Hylden was a Hylden; they were all evil.

What caused him even more confusion was why he let the Seer stay.

A voice cut into his thoughts. "Is the answer so obvious that you can not see it?"

Janos did not need to turn around to see the Hylden standing there.

"Stay out of my head, Witch."

"I would if you would not think so loudly." The Seer walked around to stand next to the Ancient. "What a pair we make."

"We make no pair, Hylden."

The Seer ignored him. "The last of our kinds. We have been torn by war for too long. I remember a time when Hylden and Ancients would get along and befriend each other. Such times have past. Do you believe that our kinds will never find peace for each other again?"

"Our kind will never get along again! Any blood of yours is like a poison; one drop will taint even the purest of hearts."

"Do you truly believe that?"

"Yes."

"With every fiber of your being?"

"… Yes."

The Seer laughed softly at Janos' small hesitation. "You are not so sure? Typical of your race; to jump to conclusions with out all the proper knowledge. Why do you do this?"

"Do you have faith, Hylden?"

"Only in time."

"What does that mean?" Janos frowned.

"That I can not say for I do not truly know."

"You talk only in riddles. Give me straight answers!"

"I would if I had them to give. 'One drop of our blood will taint the purest'? Do not trust what only your eyes tell you, Janos Audron. You know of one of my kin and have trusted him. Did you know? Or did you only use your precious eyes to tell you the truth."

"I don't know of whom you speak."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

The Seer gave another laugh. "That I believe. When you truly see, you shall know of whom I speak."

With that, the Witch left the hallway, leaving Janos with only his thoughts.

Vorador sighed. He was worried that Janos would make the Seer turn back when she arrived. Luckily he hadn't and the Seer was able to tend to the person who lay dormant in the bed. She had been able to save him, something that Vorador knew that he could not have accomplished.

Vorador looked down at his hands. They suddenly felt dirty, just like they did when he made the Key for Janos. Just like they did when he gutted Tal Rasha's skull. Some memories came to him when he needed them the least.

Like the time when he was talking to Izual about him.

"What was the last thing he said to you?"

Izual replied with out hesitation. 'The last thing he said was a question. He asked, "Why do we always have to be so strong? Why can't we just crumble? Why can't we let the weight of our emotions crush us into oblivion? Why can't we just let go?"' Both the Ancient and fledgling were silent for a moment. 'I was never able to answer.'

I made a promise once to Janos. A promise that will help him live. I have done my best to keep it. But now I need to make a promise to myself. I need to promise myself that I will not let the madness infect me. I will not let it.

I can not let it.