(Note: Atypically-brutal fight later in this chapter. You've been warned.)

Chapter 14

Red Horse

"Toy Sword, Toy Sword!"

The boy gritted his teeth, but to his tormentors it merely looked like he was baring his fangs at them. Squealing in mock terror, they retreated from him, but their laughter still burned at his ears. He continued on his path towards his home, stomping with each step as if to punish the earth beneath him, fighting to ignore the chatter of the children behind him as they continued to taunt him.

How far he had fallen, the toughest boy in his village, to be mocked by whelps barely old enough to walk on their own?

His hand unconsciously wringed at the hilt of the weapon tied with leather cords to the waistband of his rough linen tunic. The wooden grip of the sword had long ago been rubbed smooth by his hands, stained by his sweat, but the familiar feeling of it brought him peace… even if that was why they taunted him.

He was tempted to turn and face them directly. He was much bigger than them, bigger than all of the other boys his age. He had always been willing to fight anyone who provoked him, who even looked at him funny; anyone who called him a child or mocked his sword or asked about his father. He had been fighting since he was smaller than them, and he didn't lose fair fights. It wasn't his fault that those weaklings had older brothers or cousins or lots of friends. Even then, he fought, even when he was bruised and bleeding. That was what it was to be an oni, his mom had always told him.

He was far enough from the village now that his adversaries left him alone, running back to find someone else to harass. It was still a long distance to his house; he and his mom lived well beyond the outskirts of the town, deep into the woods. She said it was better for them, that no good came from relying too much on people like the ones in the village, but sometimes he wondered if it was because of him. He had always had to deal with the other kids and their jokes about his sword, but it was after the adults had started saying things that his mom had wanted to find somewhere further away to live. He didn't know what a 'bastard' was, but he knew that when he had told his mom that other adults were calling him that, she had gotten really, really mad, and the next morning the village center had been wrecked and several of the adults had been really hurt. They had moved that evening.

His heart hurt, so he stopped and tugged on the hilt of his sword. Even if they always said that he was too old to be carrying it around, it always made him feel better to look at it. It was something special; while some of the other young boys had wooden swords, theirs were crude and fake. His looked real; like someone had taken a metal sword and turned it into wood and shrunk it down for his size. It had been whittled and carved and sanded smooth, every detail perfect; his father had made it for him, his mom said, on the last campaign that she had been with him, before she had had to come back home and he had been born.

His father was still out there, fighting in the wars, his mom said. There was a lot of fighting going on, but his father was a hero, and everyone would know his father's name, she always told him. That was why his father couldn't come and see him.

Huffing, he replaced the sword at his hip, continuing his march to his house. When he was smaller, the woods between the village and his house had scared him, but he was bigger now, and he had his sword. The only thing his mom had warned him about was the people from the town at the base of the mountain. They weren't like the onis in the village, she told him, and so he needed to stay away from them. The people of the valley were humans, and they couldn't be trusted.

He could see the smoke rising from their fireplace now, and he picked up his pace, running the last bit before he reached their wooden shack. It was smaller than the houses in the village, smaller than the house they had lived in before, but his mom told him that it was just the right size for them. When he reached the door, he wasn't even breathing hard; he was a fast runner, faster than any of the other kids in the village.

He threw the door open and hopped into one of the chairs at the table, pulling the sword from his hip and leaning it against the wall. In his home was the only place he didn't wear it, because sometimes when his mom saw it she got a really sad look on her face, and that bothered him. The smell of stew hung thick in the air, and his stomach roared in anticipation.

"Hungry?" His mom turned to face him, looking away from the kettle sitting on the fire. He had always thought his mom was pretty, with a long, lean face, her white hair falling most of the way down her back and framing the long horns above her yellow eyes. Her horns were red, like the rest of her skin and his too, but the skin on her arms was crisscrossed with white scars. She had gotten them fighting with his father, and when he had asked if she meant she had fought against his dad, she had laughed and said some of them came from that, too.

He nodded, and she smiled, grabbing a rough clay bowl and ladling stew into it, thick chunks of meat plopping into the broth. His mom was a hunter, and he was learning too, though he wasn't good enough to chop a boar in half in a single swing like her. She extended the bowl towards him, and he hopped up to take it, eagerly tipping the bowl back and guzzling the stew, stopping only when he got some meat, which he chewed only briefly.

His mom laughed at his appetite, ladling out some stew for herself. He hated that she always got less than he did, but she wasn't a growing boy, she always said; he needed it more. He had finally accepted that, and had told her that when he was grown up he would take care of her, and then she could get the bigger bowl. She had laughed and agreed to that, saying, like they both always did, that they had to take care of each other, since it was them against the world.

"Did you have fun playing with your friends in the village?"

He nodded, not meeting her eyes. He didn't have friends, but he made her think that he did. Sometimes she asked about them, when he came home with bruises and cuts, but he lied.

"Alright, that's good. I'll need you to pick up some things from there for me tomorrow, so you can go back then. We'll hunt tonight." She nodded towards her sword leaning in its usual place next to the door. It was a broad, heavy blade that was taller than her.

"Can we look for more boars?"

She considered that. "Sure, but we have to stay on the north side of the mountain."

"Why? The best hunting is-"

"Because I said so." Her face grew stern, and she stared at him. "Listen to me. There's… something going on at the human town. I don't know what it is, but you are to go nowhere near it, do you hear me? Not even to the overlook. Promise me."

He took a long time to respond. The overlook was a favorite place among the village children, who loved to dare each other to climb to its highest point, where one could see most of the human town in the valley below. He had been dared recently, and hadn't done it yet…

"Yes, mom."

She ruffled his unruly hair, and turned back to the kettle. "That's a good boy, Ken."

"Have a good rest, Ken?"

Ken Takeda's eyes shot open, and he glanced around him, disconcerted. He couldn't remember the last time he had thought about… He couldn't remember the last time he had dreamed, either. He didn't really need sleep, most of the time, and didn't recall drifting off. Being able to ignore most of his body's needs had been one of the perks of being undead, after all.

"Time to wake up." Mikoto leaned closer to him, a strange smile on his face. "We have work to do."

"Yeah, sure, whatever, boss." Ken stood up from the tombstone he had been leaning against, resisting the urge to stretch. "Where's the other two?"

"They'll be here shortly." Mikoto walked away from him, motioning to the side. "As a matter of fact…"

Ken glanced in the direction Mikoto had pointed, and, sure enough, Elizabeth was making her way towards them. She was clutching an array of shopping bags, and had exchanged her usual black uniform for something a bit more stylish, and skimpy. A pair of sunglasses, made no less gaudy for the high price they had no doubt cost, perched upon her nose. "Did you know they had a shopping district on campus? Preternatural Street, they called it. They had some cute stuff, too." Her smile was unkind. "This was all a real steal, honestly."

Ken glanced at Mikoto, whose face was impassive; the boss was much better at concealing how little he cared. They were saved from having to comment by the huffing entrance of their missing member, Russell jogging heavily up the path towards them, a stack of books wedged between his arms and chest. Elizabeth placed her bags on the ground and turned to face him with naked impatience, though she hold only just arrived herself.

"S…Sorry I'm late, I lost track of time in the library and I was…" Russell breathed heavily, "was watching someone suspicious and-" He glanced at Mikoto, who gave him the slightest of smiles, and Russell fell silent.

"The library? Really? What were you doing there?" Elizabeth marched up to him, prying a book from his grasp and recoiling at the patina of moisture he had left on the cover. "How To Be a Better Poet?" She sneered at Russell. "Looks like you've gone soft in the head, to match that gut of yours."

Russell opened his mouth to respond, but a sharp shove from behind sent him and the other books spilling to the ground. He cried out in surprise and dismay, hastily scrabbling to grab the books from the dirt. Behind him, Ken laughed at his desperation. "Come on, nerd," Ken jeered at the supine Enforcer. "Give us some poetry."

Russell rose to his knees, his face red from more than just exertion. "Fine. How about this: I may be a nerd/ and Death, he's a Lich./ But War is a doofus,/ and Famine is a-"

Ken's punch interrupted Russell, and sent him tumbling back onto the ground, his glasses skittering away. Russell immediately groped for them, but the spike of a heel came down on his fleshy hand. "Care to finish that last line?" Elizabeth leaned down towards him, her face dark.

"Enough." Elizabeth and Ken glanced to their leader, far from pleased to see that he was almost successfully restraining laughter. "We need to get to work."

Ken walked towards him, brushing roughly against Russell as he climbed to his feet. "What work is there to do, really? Seems like those Fairy Tale people have it all under control."

"They are little better than livestock. They have their purposes, but leave them be, and they will wander off the nearest cliff." Mikoto shook his head. "The students of this school will need a little more… pushing before they are ready to turn on each other." His eyes fell on Ken. "Tonight, I want you to put your sword to good use."

Ken laughed eagerly, reaching out to claim his bokken from the gravestone it was leaning against. "You've got it, boss. Don't worry, I'll have them clawing at each other's throats in no time at all."

"As for you two…" Mikoto eyed Elizabeth, considering his options as he walked closer to them. "Find out what you can about any new students at this school that weren't brought in by Fairy Tale."

"Are we looking for anything in particular?" Elizabeth inspected her nails, clearly not excited by the assignment.

"Find out where they have come from. I want names, where they are from… and what they have been doing recently." He walked past the pair, stopping only to rest his hand on Russell's shoulder. What he whispered in the shorter boy's ear was lost in the wind, but Ken could see his lips clear enough to make it out: "I did like the poem, by the way." Patting Russell's shoulder, he walked on past, making his way back towards the school. "You have your jobs. Get to them."

"And what are you going to be doing, boss?"

Mikoto smiled back at Ken. "Getting things ready for the next act." He nodded to the others. "Just wait, you'll love it."

"Wahoo!"

Kurumu's enthusiastic cry rang out over the hubbub of the crowd, drawing amused glances towards Tsukune and his friends. They were nearly lost in the mass of students wandering back to Yokai Academy's dorms, having just left the bus pick-up area at the entrance to the dimensional tunnel. They had gone there to bid farewell to Ageha and Tsurara, who had departed along with the other parents a couple of hours after the final Monster Mentoring session.

Tsukune blushed as he thought back to the two mothers' final words to him. Their departure had gone better than he had expected; even the ominous bus driver had been absent, so Tsukune hadn't had to deal with his grim foreshadowing. Still, realizing that Mizore and Kurumu had told their moms everything that they had done had been… mortifying, really. At the least, he was glad Ageha and Tsurara seemed a little happier with him…

"Okay, Tsukune, listen. I've given Kurumu some advice about what you two can do next time, but just keep an open mind, alright? Try out some new experiences, let yourself go, make some grandkids for me…"

Ageha's arm fell away from Tsukune's shoulder, and he winced as he saw the blood leaking onto her hair around the icy blade that had lodged itself in her scalp. As Kurumu's mom dropped away from him, Tsurara stepped up to take her place. She favored Tsukune with a kind smile completely at odds with how she had just dispensed with her rival. "Take care of my daughter, Tsukune. She really does need you." She pressed one pale, delicate hand against his chest. "And our race needs the next generation-"

"Alright, Mom, let's go," Mizore grabbed her mother's shoulders and whisked her away from Tsukune, directing her towards the waiting buses. Nearby, Kurumu stooped to try to pick her limp mother up from the ground, dragging her after Mizore and Tsurara. Tsukune winced, glancing to the side where his other friends waited.

"Tsukune." He turned to face Ageha once more as she leaned up from the ground, supported by Kurumu and quickly recovering. The elder succubus glanced to the side, checking to be sure Yukari, Ruby, and Kokoa were distracted. "You know that secrecy never works. Everything is going to come out, sooner or later. Just be ready, alright?"

"We will be." Tsukune nodded resolutely, meeting Kurumu's eyes as well. "Whatever we have to do to make this work, we will."

Ageha's smile was brilliant. "Alright, I guess I can leave it to you all, then." Beyond her, Tsurara also nodded, having heard his words clearly. "Take care of our girls."

"I will. I promise."

Tsukune sighed as he remembered how confident he had sounded. That confidence had quickly eroded on the walk back. Despite Kurumu's enthusiasm, he had noticed a certain stiffness between her, Moka, and Mizore, and it even seemed to distance them from him. He didn't know what had caused the strife between them, but he had a hunch that it probably wasn't something they could discuss in front of Yukari and Kokoa.

"We'll go straight to the Annex when we get closer," Mizore stated, pointing to the crossroads ahead.

"Yeah, and we'll need to get to M.U.N.C.H headquarters too," Yukari mentioned to Moka, who nodded.

"So," started Kokoa, looking into the distance as she held her arms behind her head, "have you guys had any luck figuring out what those clubs are doing? It's been a week, and you haven't told us what you have discovered."

"Not much to report on our end," Mizore admitted. "They've got us busy watching movies every day for their film festival, since it's happening pretty soon. Sometime this coming month, I think."

"Yeah, and they even give us popcorn! I didn't expect doing research on S.M.A.S.H. would be this fun." Kurumu grabbed Tsukune's arm, tugging him closer. "You should come with me sometime!"

"Monsters United is like that, too," Moka commented, giving Kurumu a pointed glance. "We've been helping them plan booths for a Monster Cultural Festival. I've learned a lot about different cultures, and we should all be able to go and see it next month."

"That's weird, though," Yukari mused, tapping her chin. "You said that the film festival was supposed to be next month? I remember Powaru telling us that the Academy only had one day open for an event like the festival, and I doubt they would do both in the same month anyways."

"Yeah, Ceann told us something like that, too, if I remember right." Mizore frowned as she contemplated what that could mean.

"Who cares?" Kurumu blurted. "They'll figure it out, and both activities sound really fun. There are some of the movies I wanted to watch with Tsukune-"

"Are you kidding me?" The group paused, turning to face Kokoa, who had stopped some distance behind them. "Movies? Cultural booths?" She glowered openly at the group. "Every day, I've been stuck with him and the slave driver!" Tsukune slumped at the disdain in her voice as she stabbed a finger in his direction. "We've been doing all of the work on the newspaper, and you all can't even find out anything! This is going to take forever unless someone takes it seriously!" With a loud cry of disgust, she stomped off of the path, wading directly into the forest. Tsukune and the others watched her go, helpless to stop her. They would do what they could, and push a little harder to figure out what was really going on.

Hopefully Kokoa wouldn't get into too much trouble.

"So, you gotta tell me." The first boy turned to his two friends, offering them a hungry smile. "Powaru or Sakuya?"

"Heh, that's easy," the broad-shoulder boy with the dark hair chortled. "Sakuya, all the way. She's always so cute and energetic."

"No way!" The thinnest boy shook his head, his eyes bulging even more than usual on his gaunt face. "Who could pass up the disdainful charms of Powaru? Her cold, queenly demeanor makes me want to squirm under her foot…"

"Dude, seriously," laughed the first. "You have some weird fetishes."

The three boys laughed as they made their way back towards the dorms. The path from M.U.N.C.H. headquarters back to the school's main building was shadowed at the best of times, and in the dying light they had been forced to break out flashlights to illuminate their way. Each of them wore the typical Yokai Academy uniform, bisected by a rust-red sash that proclaimed their allegiance to Monsters United. That club had been the reason they were so late returning to their rooms; with the cultural festival looming closer, they had been working harder than ever to prepare, though their leaders had recently become more detached from the daily work. Still, everyone was putting in their best efforts, despite the concerns about all of the students who had been ambushed by thugs from S.M.A.S.H. because of their allegiances.

"Hey, I've got one for you. What do you think about the new girls?" the first boy leered openly. His friends chuckled behind him, easily deducing who he had been referring to.

"Moka's so pretty…" the heavier boy moaned.

"Yukari is just like a little doll!"

"Yeah, hard to believe she's a second-year, right?"

Their idle conversation distracted them from the silence of the twilight. Yokai's grounds were not the most bravery-inducing during the brightest of daylight, let alone at dusk. Still, they felt safe, most of the way now to the main buildings, and they weren't particularly mindful of their surroundings. They had gotten tired of watching every shadow, and of being afraid of being jumped by packs of human-lovers.

That was why they didn't notice the figure in the shadows of the forest, watching them in silence.

As the daylight died, they were too far down the path to see the other young man step out of the woods. His dark uniform clutched at the shadows, but the weapon he held loosely in his right hand shed an unnatural light all of its own, a deep blood-red glow surrounding the sword, seeming to emanate from somewhere within it. The boy took up a casual stance in the middle of the path behind them, raising his sword to attention before him. "Awaken, Threadcutter."

The boys didn't hear him, nor did they notice what was happening to them. Softly-glowing strands of energy in various colors gradually appeared around them, the ephemeral strings emerging from them and running into the distance in every direction. Some of these strings even connected the boys themselves, thick yellow cords running to and from each of them. It was these strands that began to move, drifting quickly towards the boy in the black clothes as if being pulled by their centers. They extended faster than the group was walking, quickly drawing near to the red-glowing blade.

In a single, swift motion, the sword passed through the strings, severing all of them.

The strings shriveled back, darkening to black as they retreated. As the yellow blackened all the way back to the cores of the boys, their pace began to slow. The leader stopped on the path, but the larger one continued on, roughly brushing him out of the way.

"Hey, watch where you are going, tubby!" the first boy shouted, shoving against the bigger boy's back.

"Maybe if you didn't pretend you were our boss, you would've gotten out of his way," snarled the gaunt-faced one.

"Yeah. You always treat us like we're idiots. And he's just creepy!"

"Yeah, well, someone has to keep you two from forgetting to breathe!" The first boy's grimace bared his teeth, but his expression fell into shock as a thick fist hurtled past him. He barely dodged, and launched himself at his opponent, fists clenched. Behind him, the thin boy threw himself into the melee, biting at the first unfortunate arm to near his face.
"Why do you always get the hot ones?"

"What do you mean, weird fetishes?"

"You-!"

It took only a few moments for the fight to end, each of the trio fighting until they lost consciousness. A short distance behind them, Ken Takeda admired his handiwork with a satisfied smirk. He knew he was supposed to be fomenting discord between the two clubs, but in the morning it wouldn't matter who had attacked who. No one would get their stories right, and the chaos would only raise tempers higher, turning it all into a conflagration of raised voices and clenched fists. After all, this wasn't the first fight he had started that evening, though he had stopped counting after twenty. The infirmaries and hospital would be busy tonight, and he had only gotten started. Now, he just needed to find a bigger group to-

"Got you."

Ken froze in place at the sound of the girl's voice, the glow of his sword dimming. Hopefully she hadn't seen anything, though it would take someone pretty attuned to monstrous energy to see what he had done with the fatestrings. His lips curled up in a guileless grin, and he turned towards the voice, facing the girl stepping out of the woods. "Oya, you shouldn't be out alone at night, girlie. It's not safe."

The girl stopped not far from him, determination and victory gleaming in her green eyes, the bat flapping near her pigtailed red hair wearing a similar confident smile. "I saw you, creep. I don't know what you did, but I bet you're the one behind all the fights happening around school!"

"Who, me?" Ken asked innocently, shrugging. He pointed his sword, now once again a wooden practice blade, towards the three now-still bodies lying just down the path. "I was going to break up that fight, before you interrupted me."

"Yeah, right!" Kokoa sneered as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Then what were those strings?"

"Ah…" Creative thinking was not Ken's strong suit. "You were seeing things?"

Kokoa didn't answer, her triumphant smile declaring her victory. Instead, she stuck out her hand, and the bat beside her responded, quickly reforming into a different shape, elongating and sharpening into a curved sword. "Ko-chan doesn't believe you either," she commented dryly, taking a ready stance with the saber held before her.

"Ah, man," Ken said, but the eagerness in his voice belied the complaint. "Do we have to?" He grinned madly, sweeping his own sword before him. To Kokoa's surprise, it, too, changed shape, transforming into a saber like her own.

Kokoa's shock lasted only a moment, and she launched herself at him, ready to treat him like he could be a serious opponent. Her appraisal was proven right when he parried her blow and responded in kind, her narrow dodge followed by another attack. As she pressed Ken, her strikes grew increasingly powerful, her monstrous energy flowing out of her as she saw that he was capable of taking it. The ring of metal crashing against metal pierced the silence, faster and louder, until it was a glimmering dance of sparks and reflected moonlight.

Kokoa waited for an opportunity, and one soon came, the boy's balance shifted just enough to leave him open. She seized the chance, throwing a surge of power into a single attack that should have shattered clean through his sword, even if he had managed to block. Instead, her arms shook as her blade slammed against his, his sword gleaming as he held her off without a hint of strain.

"Man," Ken laughed, smiling without restraint, "I think I'm in love. You really are something else… vampire, right?" He laughed, but it was madness that cavorted in his eyes. "This is fun. Let's play some more, alright?"

Kokoa leapt back, frowning at his reaction. Even she was feeling a little fatigue, but he showed no sign of tiredness, not even a drop of sweat. He was good, better than she had figured on, and for just a moment she considered that she might need help, glancing in the direction of the dorms. Surely she and her sister could easily-

"Hey, hey, you can't leave." He scowled, shaking his head fiercely. "You're the first fun I've had since I got here." He glanced at his sword, and it began to glow crimson.

"Plus, you don't want your big sister to think you are weak, do you?"

Kokoa gaped at him, uncomprehending. His lips hadn't moved with the words, but it had been his voice that had spoken, even as the blade pulsed with red light in time with the words. "What did you say?" she demanded, lowering into a crouch, tensing to launch herself at him.

"That's better." He grinned as she came, but his eyes widened as her saber began to shift even as it descended towards him. He grunted, blocking her strike, the back of his blade pressing against his hand as he strained against the weight of the massive warhammer. She followed her failed attack with another, but this one slammed against the handle of a hammer that matched her own. His counter was a two-handed baseball swing at her head, and she dropped to her knees, thrusting out with the spiked tip of her hammer before rolling away to avoid the overhanded counterattack that cratered the earth where she had just been.

This wasn't good, she knew. This guy was something else, and she needed to warn her sister and the others. If this guy could turn people against each other like that-

"You'll never be her equal. You'll be left behind and alone."

"Shut up!" she screamed at him and the glowing hammer he held. She came again, her weapon answering her demands, shifting into a narrow, quick rapier, aimed straight for his heart. He was faster, parrying the strike, taking the form of an experienced fencer as he lunged back at her.

"She pities you. They all do. Little baby sister, never one of them."

Kokoa's blade hissed through the air in wide swings as she batted furiously at him, silencing the glowing sword with her attacks. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl while she threw herself at him again and again, desperate to quiet the voice, to wipe the childish smile from his face.

"Aw, come on," Ken sighed, his grin slipping. "You're starting to get boring."

Kokoa roared, slashing straight down at him, and he raised his blade to parry hers to the side. It found no resistance, though, as Kokoa's weapon retracted, racing back to her hand. Ken barely had time to brace himself as she dashed forward, her fist punching forward, her knuckles guarded by the bat-shaped knuckles that framed her hand. Her opponent coughed as her punch slammed into his ribs, throwing him away from her, and she grinned when she saw him fall into the dirt, sprawling onto his back.

Her smile crumbled when she saw him sit back up. "That's more like it!" he chuckled, still baring his teeth. He tensed, and hopped back onto his feet, glancing down at the tear in his shirt left by the bladed edges of her knuckleduster. To her dismay, there wasn't even a hint of blood staining the ripped cloth. "Aw, that sucks." Ken shrugged, turning back to the fight as his sword glowed, melting down to ring his hand as a set of brass knuckles. "First hit goes to you, I guess. My turn."

Kokoa braced herself, but hesitated as the blur hurtled towards her face. He wasn't this fast before-

The first hit twisted her head to the side, her vampiric strength doing nothing to protect her from the power of that punch. The second slammed into her forehead, opening the skin and letting blood flow down into her eye. The third was against her solar plexus, and spittle sprayed from her mouth as she coughed explosively.

"Come on!" Her vision blurred further as her other eye immediately began to swell from another punch. "Fight back!" Her left arm went numb when his fist hit her shoulder, and she fought to stay upright. "Play. With. Me!" She couldn't keep track of the hits, even as he punctuated his words with them. She couldn't even stay on her feet.

"Get up!" He was still hitting her, disappointment and fury in his voice. "We're not done! Get up!" Pain wracked her body, but still he didn't stop, until a punch she barely felt crashed against her face.

The darkness was silent and still, and she didn't feel anything at all anymore.

Author's Note: Just gonna state this one for the observant: if you notice that a chapter's title is taken from the Book of Revelations, brace yourself, and, ah, don't stand in front of any fans, if you catch my drift. For those of you who remember my previous tale well, then this chapter is a sort of equivalent to Mizore Shirayuki from that work; it's time for things to descend towards the finale, even if that end is another six or so chapters away. Cry havoc, as it were…

Next week is Thanksgiving Break for the school I am working with, so hopefully I will be able to make good progress then, too. I am rather proud of myself; despite dealing with a Reunion/Homecoming last weekend (I got conned into doing all of the announcing for the court, since I speak so 'eloquently,' even though I'm only a substitute), a packed week at work, and a basketball game I had to sell concessions at on Thursday, I still managed to publish two chapters this weekend, and they were not small ones! I will push on, though; I have a lot of ground to make up for.

Now, I must step back from the keyboard and take up my trusty notebook once more, to plot and plan and envision. Thanks again to you who read, and you who comment; you drive me onward in my scribbling or typing.

As late as it is, though, perhaps I should afford myself at least a little sleep…

~Wynn Pendragon