NextHeaven: Sorry for the length of this chapter, I know its rather short and very boring! I was thinking of making it longer, but decided against it as I think the next part should be separate. Anyways, thank you for all who reviewed in the last chapter and I promise the next one will be more interesting :)

Chapter 21

The journey had been long and arduous. His legs ached from the continual climb up the mountain and then down the other side into Yason-Roven. But now he was here and he must put his tiredness behind him until he found what he sought. The General of the Alliance stood outside the main gates to the great city of Epentar, observing the guards patrol from a safe distance. Although perfectly capable of fighting them, he did not wish to expend the little energy he had left, so he merely waited.

And waited.

As night finally fell on the land, the guards left to change shifts. He saw his chance and dashed through the gates, his dark clothing blending him into the night like a spectre.

The place was larger than he had imaged. Twisting buildings rose into the sky, jagged and dismal; a physical portrayal of the poor state of Yason-Roven. Eerie lights cast flickering shadows on the ornamentally carved stones of the ground, and he was thankful for their dimness to conceal his presence. He immediately spotted where his destination was: the largest building in the city, towering high above all the rest, undoubtedly the castle.

He made his way silently towards it, avoiding patrols of guards, although strangely the place was rather quite. He had expected more security for the capital of Yason-Roven. However, as he reached the rear of the castle he soon discovered why there was a lack of citizens and guards. Piles of bodies lay where they had fallen, twisted and screaming in their final moments. Blotches of dark putrid flesh covered their skin like parasites: so this was the plague that was ravishing the Yason. Children, women, men, people of all different ages lay there in these death heaps and Agreian could not suppress the feeling in his heart. What was it? Pity? But how could he feel such a thing for his enemies? This…They deserved this for their blasphemy. I can't pity such traitors, the ones who deliberately tried to destroy our race, our home…I can't…

He abruptly turned his attention away from the death piles, determined not to let it taint his mission. He snuck around the back of the castle in search of more conspicuous way in. Finally he came to a part of the wall where ivy was thickly clinging to it. Perhaps if he was agile enough he could climb up to the nearest window. He carefully found a foot hole and hoisted himself up, catching his breath as he felt the ivy nearly snap under the weight of his feet.

He finally reached the sill of the large, oval window and cautiously peered in. Most of his view was obscured by thick drapes but through the small opening in them he could see that it was a bedroom from the plush bed and decorated walls. He wedged a dagger underneath the frame and was about to force it open when he heard voices from within the room. He quickly lowered himself from the window before two people entered the room.

"What'll we do? I'm so worried about her…" A woman's voice, soft and young. He squinted to try and see her but the drapes were in the way.

"She is not proceeding as planned…I knew this wouldn't work. The ritual must have wiped her memory, I don't think she even recalls why she's there," He knew that voice. Orha.

"I can't bare to think that I've lost her…That this has all failed," The woman finally walked into his line of sight. She was dressed in an elaborate black dress with a matching mask covering most of her face. He immediately knew who she was: Amila, Queen of the Yason. He had heard stories of the dark, reclusive women. Some said she was suffering from the plague which ravaged the land; that would explain the mask.

"Your Majesty, let us not think the worst. If indeed she has forgotten her duty then we must take action to prevent the Alliance from gaining the Celestial Shard. We must postpone them as long as possible until we formulate some course of action,"

"You make it sound so easy, General Orha…When we have lost before, how can we possibly win on this same battle? All odds are against us," The Queen walked over to the window and Agreian felt a bout of panic that she was going to pull open the drapes, look down and see him. But she didn't. Instead it seemed she just stood a few feet away as if she was scared to even look at the outside world.

"We can create anew from the ruins of our past…" Orha seemed to be waiting for a reply but the Queen just stood there, the mast obscuring any expressions. Finally Orha bowed and there was the click of a door as he left the room. The Queen stood there a moment longer, still not daring to come closer to the window. I was barely audible but Agreian still heard the whisper from her lips.

"Perhaps…you are right…" She finally turned and walked out of his line of vision. But the door did not click, so she was still in the room. A few moments later she reappeared, this time in a long flowing gown of the same midnight black, however the mask was still in place. She sat on the side of the bed that he could see and removed an object from her neck. There was that ethereal glint and he saw what he had come here for: the Celestial Shard. So, she carried it around her neck all the time? This sent both a wave of dread and relief through Agreian. Relief because he had it in sight, dread because to get it, he may have to fight the Queen of the Yason.

Setting it down on the bedside table, she got under the covers and blew out the candles. It seemed to simple: wait for her to fall asleep then nip in and take his prize. No…there has to be a catch here…its too easy. He had come here expecting guards and security en mass and he had been presented with the Celestial Shard right in front of him and unguarded apart from a sleeping Queen.

An hour had passed before Agreian decided the Queen was asleep. He only had one chance at this and he didn't want to screw it up. Taking a deep breath he carefully wedged open the window wide enough for him to enter. Once inside the room he moved with the stealth of a shadow towards the shard which glinted from the moonlight. There was still no stirring from the bed; so far so good. His heart was pounding in his ears as he cleared the last few feet. It now lay in front of him, only a arms length away. Without hesitation he grabbed it.

It was cool in his hand, but no freezing like ice. A kind of healing coolness which made his fingertips tingle. How easy it had been, who would have thought? Then he felt something colder, like ice along his neck. He froze, this was not a good feeling. This was a very bad feeling. He tentatively reached up, his fingers coming into contact with the smooth sharpness of a blade. He swallowed.

"Just as I expected," someone whispered in his ear. He immediately recognised it as the same voice he had heard earlier: Queen Amila. He swallowed, feeling the knife momentarily dig into the soft flesh of his neck.

"I would advise you to step back, madam," he said mustering as much power into his voice as he could. She let out a soft chuckle, her breath tickling his neck.

"And who are you to command me, mister Agreian?" her voice was soft, yet as sharp as the knife she held to him, not young and innocent as it had been earlier. He felt his knees go weak and his stomach drop. There was nothing he could do to get out of this situation: he was trapped.

"You see we cannot allow you to take the Celestial shard. Doing so would mean…something beyond your comprehension, something very terrible indeed,"

"Terrible for you, you mean,"

He felt she was about to reply but was cut off by the sound of the door opening.

"Your Highness, let me take him off your hands," it was Orha again. Typical…

He felt something cold snap around his wrists and then Orha came to face him.

"Such a bad choice to come here…but ah well, I can't say I wasn't looking forward to it," a grin crept to his lips as he clamped his hands over the General's body. Agreian nearly jumped, a trickle of blood now coming from the knife still at his neck. Orha systematically found every weapon which he concealed and threw them down onto the dark ground.

The knife was removed from his neck to his relief and was replaced by two guards holding him firmly by the arms. The dark figure of the Queen came into view.

"Take him away," she said, turning away from him.