Martyn had been wandering the forest for almost an hour, tending to the plants and contemplating the world. He brushed his pale blond hair out of his eyes as he stooped to plant a sapling. The little rainbow tree sapling that he had 'liberated' from Sjin perked up immediately, finally in a real forest. As he stood, wiping the dirt from his hands (but just succeeding in rubbing it in), he heard a loud crack as though a tree had fallen. He rushed towards the noise, maybe it wasn't too late to save the tree! But instead of a breaking, or broken, tree he saw a human. Scratch that, it definitely wasn't human. It looked like a young boy, just over ten or so, with dark brown hair. He was taller than normal, almost as tall as the tree sprite himself, with unusually monochrome clothing. But the thing that defined him as most certainly not human was the lower half of his face. And, Martyn mentally added, the faint purple light seeping from under his eyelids. The sprite knelt down, checking for wounds, but couldn't see any. But there was blood all over his plain gray tunic. Martyn glanced at the setting sun, coming to a decision. He pulled the boy up onto his shoulder, grunting at the effort, and carried him back to his camp.

The first thing Rythian was aware of was the smell. A warm, smoky smell accompanied by crackling and the occasional clump of a heavy object falling. There was also a humming in the background, surprisingly tuneful. Rythian continued to lay on the uneven ground, fascinated by the flickering red and orange light that was dancing across the inside of his eyelids. The humming stopped as Rythian sat up.

"Look who woke up!" Came a cheerful voice from behind him. Rythian turned to see a man grinning so wide his smile seemed to stretch almost as far as Rythian's could now. He had floppy pale yellow hair that was lying against a bright green cloth band. His eyes were a sparkling blue that seemed to have a smile all their own. Even his garb seemed cheerful, a vibrant green tunic with an odd symbol marked in a darker green. His pants were a dark brown. It was then that Rythian caught sight of the man's ears. They were pointed at the tips and longer than average. Mary's ears had been smooth, was this a male thing? But then again Rythian's ears were smooth as well.

"Why are your ears pointy?" Rythian asked, his voice scratchy. The man laughed.

"Of all the things I expected, hello, where am I, what happened, I was not expecting you to question my ears." His answer seemed joking enough, but he sounded a little hurt all the same. "I'm a sprite, we all have pointy ears."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't even know sprites existed." Rythian said apologetically. "What's your name?"

"I'm Martyn Littlewood. I'm the guardian of this forest, and most of the forests around here come to think of it." The last part seemed more of an afterthought.

"I'm Rythian En- Just Rythian." He cut off his last name, it wasn't something he was comfortable using now.

"How did you get here? When I found you, you were on the forest floor." Martyn asked. Rythian frowned. He remembered the portal…and mother…and, oh.

"Mary!" He stood up urgently. "Was there anyone next to me? Did you see a lady nearby?" The tree sprite shook his head.

"Sorry, no one. It was just you." Martyn looked sympathetic. "Was she your mom?"

"No, a friend. She was really hurt when we…" Rythian trailed off. He knew Mary was dead. There was no feasible way she could have survived, but maybe he could heal her. "We need to look. She'll be there, she has to be!"

"But it's the middle of the night! Mobs will be everywhere!" Martyn exclaimed, gesturing to the sky. Rythian didn't even bother to look up at the stars he had always longed to see.

"Just show me which direction then, you don't have to come." Rythian scowled. Martyn rolled his eyes.

"Fine, come on. It's this way." The sprite headed out of the camp, gesturing for Rythian to follow. Martyn had been right about mobs, there were dozens of them crawling about the forest. But they didn't seem particularly observant. They made good time, arriving at the spot only minutes later. Rythian frowned, noticing the forest lit with the same purple light he had seen in the End. An idea struck him and he closed an eye experimentally. The light dimmed immensely. Apparently his eyes glowed now. Martyn and him searched the vegetation for a good five minutes before Rythian found her. She was lying in a bush, totally still. Rythian pulled her onto a clear patch of ground, her blood pooling darkly in the soft loam. Her eyes were closed, mouth slightly open from her final breath. Rythian reached for her neck with shaking hands, searching for a pulse. Nothing.

"Mary?" He whispered, shaking her gently. He didn't really expect a response. Tears began to slide silently down his face, leaving burning red trails in their wake. He lowered his head, his tears mingling with the blood on the ground. Rythian's face was reflected in the pool, not unlike a demon peering up from a hellgate. The skin on his lower face was tar black, a bleak plain broken by ridges of purple veins and valleys of torn flesh that oozed purple. His mouth was a worse, an uneven trench that hid jagged fangs and a black tongue. His eyes were a deep purple now, with sparks of turquoise shifting near the pupil. Those eyes narrowed in rage. The Queen had taken so much from him; his childhood, his humanity, even his sanity. But now she wished to take his little scrap of light, his only companion? No.

"NO!" Rythian yelled, startling Martyn. He refused to just let Mary die. If his eyes had been glowing before, now they burned. Purple mist leaking from his eyes and fingers Rythian pressed his hand to her throat. The mist shot into her, and both she and Rythian tensed. A ripple of pain forced a pained yell from Rythian, but he kept pushing. He reached deeper, the pain almost intolerable, every drop of power forced into her still corpse. Suddenly a pair of hands was wrenching him away, calling his name. Rythian lay prone on the forest floor, breathing heavily. Martyn helped him to a sitting position, holding the poor boys shoulders.

"That's enough." Martyn's voice cut into the stillness that had beset the forest.

"Never enough." Rythian coughed, shaking his head.

"She's dead Rythian, you did your best."

Rythian nodded, but he didn't believe it. He hadn't been enough. He wasn't strong enough. A low growl echoed from his throat, mirroring his broken heart. Mother would pay for this.

A/N: Dan dun DAAAA