A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Hope you'll all like this chapter (the much anticipated story of Sara's past!)

"Rhea," Sara called into the temporary canvas tent where the female warriors were sleeping. "Can I speak with you for a second?"

"It's the middle of the night." Rhea mumbled, her voice clouded by sleep. "Whaddya want?"

"I want you to tell me a story."

"You want a bedtime story?" Rhea glared at her with bleary eyes.

"Not exactly." Sara looked down at her nails and, as casually as she could, brought her eyes up to meet Rhea, shooting daggers from them.

"Whoa." She blinked. "What was that?"

"I want the story of my past, Rhea. All of it. I know you know."

"How..."

"Jordan."

"Jordan?" Rhea looked over at her. "How did you know?"

"Got it from you through the Blood Tie you have with Sara."

"It's all about Ties these days, isn't it."

"It's true. Through hers to your memories. You know as well as I do that this can save us, Rhea. If we get their help..." Jordan gave the dark mage a meaningful look. "She has to know."

"I really wish you hadn't said anything." Rhea sighed and wiped a hand over her face. "Alright, Sara." She lead her away from the makeshift camp so they were almost into the woods. "It's better if nobody really knows about this, alright?"

"That's my decision. It is my life after all. Even if I still don't know about it."

"I knew this would how you'd react." She sighed again. "Alright. First, you have to understand that everything that I'm about to tell you was done only to protect you."

"Rhea..." She warned. Rhea sighed.

"Your mother wasn't mortal like you've been told. She was a powerful mage named Seraphina who fell in love with a mortal and was stripped of her power for the offense. Her day was around the time of the Demon King and, believe it or not, she was the right hand of the group who took him out the first time. That's why the first prophecy mentioned you as the one who would defeat the Ruler. It's in your blood to be a revolutionary. After the Demon King was overthrown, she helped place the Ruler you knew on his throne. At the time, he was a normal young man. He showed no signs of evil, no demonic behaviour. Nothing to suggest the monster he'd become. That's another thing about your original prophecy. You had to undo what your mother had done before you. After she had done that, she spent some time in the mortal realm. To get in touch with herself, she said. I think she was just bored with these realms - she needed constant excitement in her life to keep her interested. While she was there, she fell in love with a man named Alexander. I met him more than once. He was very, very nice. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes. You look a lot like him, actually. But not more than her. More an...equal divide between them both. You would have loved them had you known them." Rhea had a wistful look in her eye as she studied Sara. She shook her head and continued. "Anywho...Alexander was very handsome and very charming, but he was also very mortal. Not an ounce of magic in him. Mortal transformations weren't condoned then like they are now, so she had to see him secretly. She got pregnant in the mortal realms and carried you in both. That's why you're as comfortable there as you are here. She had planned to deliver you in the mortal realms and bring you back so fewer people would notice, but she got caught by surprise on one of her trips here and got stuck."

"Lovely. So I was a mistake and the child of an illegitimate father. Just keep making my day, Rhea."

"You wanted to know so badly. Anyways, there used to be a group called the Olenato, and they prided themselves in single-handedly keeping the 'mortal taint' out of our children. They monitored every birth, and when a child exhibited any mortal characteristics, they would be taken from their parents to be 'rehabilitated' . Seraphina wouldn't give you up, and she had the latent power to protect you. She managed to for years until they finally caught up. She sent you to me and I had to hide you. Nobody knows if she got out of that fight alive. She was powerful and talented, but she was outnumbered and there were no witnesses."

"I'm sorry, wait. She gave me to you?" Sara stared. "How does that even work?"

"I was alive then. I was alive even before then. All these years. I'm immortal."

"How come I've never sensed it? You're not that powerful. Or are you?" Sara shook her head violently. "I don't even know what to believe anymore."

"I'm mildly more powerful than you've noticed, but I was exiled, and that puts somewhat of a shadow over any power or abilities...beyond the norm."

"Shit." Jordan murmured.

"I had to keep you hidden from everyone for as long as I could." Rhea explained. "Otherwise they would have gotten you, and rehabilitation with them isn't as innocent as it may seem. I wanted to keep you in these realms to cultivate your talent, so I put you with a very powerful, very old family. They'd already been around for generations, and they were rich and influential and I knew would protect you at any cost. They were the royalty of this place. And they did well by you for almost ten years before the Olenato caught up. They don't like those who evade them. Your power combined with your parents combined with your escape made you the ultimate catch. Before they could get you, Illya, that's an old friend you had. Old powerful friend, mind you. Anyways, she sent you to the mortal realms to be with your father, Alexander. But they had already gotten to him, and he was dead. Bringing you back wasn't an option, so we had to let you stay. That's when you got your...first set of parents."

"Rhea? How...old...am I exactly?"

"Um..." Rhea ticked off a couple of her fingers. "about...oh god this sounds terrible."

"Please, Rhea. I don't care how it sounds. I just want to know. All this...it's a little hard to deal with if I don't know the facts."

"Promise not to yell?"

"Rhea!"

"You were born around the time when Henry the seventh was reigning, so you do the math."

" You're kidding." Sara's voice fell flat. "Please, please, please, please tell me you're kidding!"

"She's not." Violet whispered, materializing from the shadows with Rain beside her. "I can see the pictures in her head. And in yours. You remember, Sara. You'd know that she's not lying if she removed the mind block she has on you."

"You lie to me about my life for five thousand years and then you fuck with my mind too!? Rhea!? What the hell!?" Sara's voice tore through three octaves before settling into a steady shriek.

"Quiet, quiet. We're trying not to tell everyone."

"Take it off, Rhea. I want access to my own memories, if it's not too much trouble for you."

"Don't be difficult. This is why we tried to hide it from you. It's so confusing, I'm sure you'd agree."

"Rhea."

"Sara, you won't remember all of it. I don't want to confuse you."

"Violet seems to disagree, and she can see into my head." Sara glared at the dark mage. "I want it off."

"Fine, but you'll only get bits and pieces of the early stuff."

"Now!"

"Remember," Rhea said, raising a hand slowly. "You asked for this." Then, in a swift motion, she pulled her hand across her body, leading a trail of magic through Sara's head, in one ear and out the other. Sara shivered as she felt Rhea's magic scour her mind and memories, the sensation almost like a layer of skin was being scrubbed off. She blinked a few times as the black and red magic filtered out of her head, and then, when she closed her eyes, even to blink, she saw bright images that could only be from the past she never knew she had.

A young Sara sat on the packed dirt floor of an ancient kitchen. Right in front of the fire, she was clearly in everybody's way and not helping in the least, but they bowed their heads as they skirted her small form, treating her with as much respect as they could bestow upon a child of seven. As she watched them slide loaves of bread and pieces of meat into the large stone oven, she produced small magical sparkles from her fingers, giggling as they frightened a cook and a milk maid.

"What trouble have you been causing, child." A woman with bright blonde hair swept into the kitchen, bringing with her a grace that was sorely out of place in these rooms. "Always underfoot, you are. Nothing but a nuisance. " She chided Sara in such a gentle, loving manner that her words held no sting.

"I wanted to help, Illya." Sara explained in a clear soprano voice. "They wouldn't permit it."

"One of your status does not spend her time in this type of company, dear heart." Illya didn't speak with any venom in her voice, not an spec of condescension marring her tone. She was simply stating well known facts. "You are only making it more difficult for our wonderful staff to complete their given tasks. Why don't you come away with me, and we shall play a game together."

"But I never do anything." Sara complained as she was lead away. "I want to help."

"You are a woman of status now. You shall be required to learn your place if you want to stay a member of this house. You do want to stay, do you not?"

"Oh yes," Young Sara whispered fervently. "More than anything in the world."

Flashes of colours, images and snippets of conversation rushed through her mind as her memory shuffled to something new; something darker.

Sara had grown. She was now nearing the age of a young woman. Her body had elongated and slimmed, and held the wiry, strong muscles of a trained fighter. Brandishing a clear crystal blade, she heard the voice of an older professor teaching her the arts of defence and explaining that her situation was more dire than the rest of the ladies, and she must be well rounded in the fighting arts in order to defend herself if the opportunity should arise. As she infused the blade with her unique magical signature, she also heard her teacher in the magical arts explain to her why those skills had to be finely tuned. Always ready and waiting.

All around her, men and women were holding weapons at the ready, some glowing with magical fire, some ordinary. They were all ringed around her, making it clear that she was who they were intent on protecting, though she was more than able to defend herself. A wave of large warriors rained down upon them, some clawing at them as birds and flying beasts, but most attacking from the ground. Their emblem she recognized as that of the Olenato, the group that had been chasing her throughout her entire childhood. She couldn't see the fighting from her position, and now that their opposition had left the higher ground of the ridge that was supposed to be protecting them, she couldn't clearly discern between the heads of her enemies and those of her friends. She heard the almost musical clang of swords against swords, an airy, whooshing sound that had to be the product of an exchange of arrows, and the strange, harsh keening that came from magic confronting magic. The smell of battle surrounded her, wrapped around her like a thick, sickening blanket. It smelt like the coppery, salty scent of blood mixed with the tang of sweat and the unmistakable tainted smell of fear and charred flesh. Only her in-depth training kept her from curling up and covering her ears. Though she was old beyond her years, she was still but a child in the eyes of many, and had been sheltered for many years by the very people who were being slaughtered for her sake.

Her enemies, now easily recognized by their evil, disdainful smiles, cut their way through the protective lines of her friends towards her. They advanced at an incomprehensible speed, blood spraying about them in a sick fountain, springing out of the cut necks they handed out liberally as they moved. Suddenly, inexplicably, Illya was in front of her. This woman, who had become one of her closest friends, looked sick with fear.

"It is no longer safe for you here," She said quickly, the glow emanating from her hands growing bolder and stronger by the second. "I am sorry we have failed you, darling. You must now leave and protect yourself as we have taught you."

"What about you?" Sara asked clearly, though her voice was but a whisper. "You will be safe?"

"You mustn't concern yourself with my safety any longer. You must simply keep yourself in good health, you understand?"

"Yes, but how can I possibly..."

"I shall send you to the Mortal Realms. To be with your father. You'd like that, no?"

"Intriguing as it may be, I love it here." Sara's wide, innocent eyes were glassy. "It is the only home I've ever known. The Mortal Realms cannot possibly compare."

"Maybe they cannot, but they are your only hope now. You have enemies everywhere in these realms. You must conceal your magic from the mortals. Make them think you are one of them, but keep in practice regularly, for you never know when you might need to utilize your skills, and I will not have our efforts wasted by you letting your magical aptitude fall by the wayside to your new life as a mortal girl."

"I can fight. I can help."

"Your time here is over," Illya glanced over her shoulder as the immovable wall of opposing warriors gained more ground. "Avenge us, my darling, when you return as a powerful sorceress. It shall happen to you one day. You shall remember all of this, all of us, and you must make our deaths worthwhile."

"I'll find you, Illya. I promise. I will never forget you."

"You shall never see me again," Illya whispered as she coated Sara in a sheet of magic. "For this is not a battle I anticipate I shall walk away from. Goodbye, Dearest. Fare well."

Then she was gone.

Sara's early years as a mortal were but a blur in her mind. She vaguely remembered hearing of her father's untimely death and searching for a new family to call her own. She saw herself working odd jobs for petty cash on the streets of medieval towns, time nor place having any meaning to her. She winced when she saw herself being hanged for witchcraft multiple times, never dying because she truly was a witch, of sorts, and otherwise immortal. Something that hanging could never terminate. More of her flashing memories rested on her deaths than any details of her life. She had contracted the Black Plague at some point and died from it, was burned at the stake once and survived, coming back as a small child. It was at that point that she was adopted by a kindly family who had only recently lost their own daughter.

Yet again finding herself by the fire, Sara sat embroidering a Midwinter gift for her new adoptive father, her mother by her side, her younger sibling playing on the rug in front of the hearth. This was the picture of a happy family life. This particular clan, the Garths, treated her as if she were one of their own instead of an outsider as she was. Though her memories were fuzzy at this point, she recalled some of the more brutal attempts to kill her because of her practicing her magical skills. Though they were growing along with her, they were becoming more difficult to hide as she learned and practiced more difficult spells and incantations, causing her no end of trouble. But she couldn't bear to give them up. Her promise to Illya meant very little to her now and didn't influence her decision to persevere with her skills in the least. It was more that this small, dangerous talent of hers was the only connection she had left to her true self. She had considered giving it up for a short while, until she had purchased a home of her own and could work in private, but after but a few days, she found she could not continue her life without it. So she chose to walk the dangerous line between the worlds, continually tainting her blissful life with unhappiness.

Her mind sped through more flashes of memory. The purchase of a small hut that was all her own. The realization that nobody could walk in on her practices. An overly exuberant show of power that got her hut burned down in her first week of ownership, her inside as the flames licked at it and burned it to the ground. Another reincarnation. A number of years where very few notable things happened. An apprenticeship with what looked to be a seamstress. Polaroid picture style flashes of her in different fashions that ran through the popularity food chain throughout her long life. Countless blank years.

Feeling truly at home for what had to be the first time in years, Sara looked down at the weapon in her hand and smiled a strange, grimace-like smile. She was fighting in the French Revolution (Her conscious mind was overjoyed at the reason for her inexplicable knowledge of the French language) as one of the very few, though bound and determined, female soldiers fighting in the army. The power that flowed through her and into the sword in her arm. She remember how the other soldiers, both male and female, had been guardedly impressed at her masterful wielding of the difficult instrument. It simply felt to her as if it were an extension of her arm, the weight as familiar as anything limb that she naturally had. She was a patriotic Frenchwoman at this time, though her alliances changed with almost every different life she lived. She had been working on her skills in the magical arts secretly for almost a decade now, and she had yet to perform any act even mildly suspicious. Of course, there was her subtle use of offensive tactics as she let her...special skill flow down her arm and into the blade, turning what was multiple hacks for even experienced swordsmen one clean slice for her. Of course, it helped that she had been trained for hundreds of years in the art of the blade, but this extra did give her a dangerous edge. The outcome did not please her altogether, and she soon moved on, though she was overjoyed at the ability to use her magic in a tense situation and remain inconspicuous for the first time. This skill was one she carried on into her next few lives.

More flashes, more incoherent memories. She had brief images of her fighting contentedly in several more wars, ecstatic at the knowledge that she had an advantage that few others possessed and that, even if she were killed, she wouldn't really die. Then there was the visit from Rhea.

The year looked to be in the middle of the nineteen-seventies. Sara was lounging at a beach, enjoying the feeling of the sun baking her skin and watching her brother play in the waves, her parents only a short distance away. She felt a strange prickling sensation all over her body, settling on her skin almost like static electricity. A woman walked up. Some of the other beach-goers looked strangely at this newcomer. She had appeared out of the woods in a strange black and red outfit that looked like it had gone out of style back when Henry the Eighth was still beheading his wives. Her hair was black and long with bright streaks that looked like blood flowing through each separate strand.

"Alright, Sara." She said, using the mortal name that her charge had taken on. "It's time now."

"Time for what, Rhea?" Sara remembered this strange woman, though they had only met a handful of times. Rhea had been a close personal friend of her mother's and had, over the years, been keeping a close eye on Sara's progress, something like a legal guardian or fairy godmother. She wasn't happy with Sara's shows of magic and constant deaths, but she had done nothing, believing in a more hands off approach to her self-appointed role.

"Time for you to live an entire life. You're young now. Young enough to live a whole, full, rich mortal life, but old enough in immortal years and years of magical practice to handle your skills competently through your unconscious mind."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm binding your powers and blocking your memories. You will only remember being a mortal girl from your recent birth on. You will be like any other child in these realms. No magic, no otherworld, no prior years of immortal life. You will remember none of it, yet the memories themselves will stay in your mind, locked behind a strong, unbreakable wall along with your magic. If you are chosen again, your powers will be unbound by a Deity, and you will resume your studies from the beginning."

"Why? Wouldn't it be better this way, having my years of experience?"

"I don't believe so. I can never know what was taken from you when you were made immortal. What life experiences you could never have with the knowledge of your never-ending life and strong magical skills. I'm trying to make you normal. Like any other little girl."

"We both know I'm not any other little girl. I'm the daughter of the powerful Kantaran mage Seraphina and the mortal Alexander. I've lived thousands of years hiding my talent, using it to help people, learning from my mistakes. I'll never be normal."

"None of that will matter if it's something you don't remember. You may never see me again, Sara, but if you do, I promise I'll tell you all this someday. Even if I make you forget who you are, I never will. I will be the keeper of your identity, Sarayelle Alkina, until you are ready to know it all. Goodbye."

"Rhea..."

"You won't even remember my name." Rhea whispered, placing a hand on Sara's forehead, letting her magic flow through the skin and bone into her memories, building a wall around everything from the start of her life and the lives she had lived since then, and finally, reaching out to her magic and tying it in a knot, binding it and its use from Sara forever. She vanished as Sara was blinking, confused.

"Who was that woman over here talking to you just now?" Sara's father walked over and looked around him, expecting to see a woman in a medieval costume strutting around the beach.

"I...I don't know." Sara said, looking around for the same thing. "I don't think I've ever met her before."

The memories started to slow down and stutter like the film at the end of a reel. The last thing she saw played out behind her closed lids was Nyx and Ammariah, her two patron Goddesses, unbinding her powers and telling her that she was now a citizen of the magical realm of Kantara.

" - and I said to him, well that's just fine, but let's see how much you like it." Two people laughed in unison as Sara's senses awakened to catch the last of a conversation between Rain and Rhea. Violet was sitting on the ground beside her sister, her head in Rain's lap and her eyes half-closed. Jordan's knees were drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting on top. Her worried gaze was fixed somewhere beyond Sara's head.

"Somthin' wrong?" Sara slurred, wincing slightly as she straightened up and stretched her stiff muscles. Rhea's eyes searched Sara's face for a moment before resting on her friend's furious gaze. She had the good sense to look away.

"Why do you ask?" Of course, with her question directed at Sara but her eyes looking at the horizon, she looked ridiculous.

"Jordan looks like she's expecting something terrible to happen and as leader of this group, I think I should probably know what's going on."

"You were...unaware...for a long time." Jordan explained, relaxing slightly as she affirmed that there was nothing physically wrong with Sara. "I was getting worried."

"You looked like you expected the first wave of the zombie apocalypse to come stampeding over that hill in a deliciously gory un-dead cavalry."

"I did not." Jordan mumbled. Sara laughed shakily. "How was the show?"

"Hmm?"

"Your memories. Good? Bad?"

"They were...off-putting."

"How so?"

"I only saw flashes of things that had happened. It was weird seeing myself in all those lives. Like someone was putting my face on different bodies. And I died a lot."

"How many times?"

"I don't even want to count. I was hanged, burned and drowned for witchcraft; I got the Plague; Died of old age a couple times, actually, but it wasn't any less uncomfortable. There were other ways."

"No zombies?"

"No," Sara laughed at their private joke. "No zombies."

"Well, there's the silver lining."

"Completely. Burned for witchcraft, but at least there weren't any zombies."

"They eat your brains, you know. That's just not an attractive death for anyone."

"Oh god, can you imagine?" Sara took a large breath throught her laughter.

"As charming as this is..." Violet yawned. "What did you find that could help us now."

"I really don't know. I mean, it all happened in the past. The only thing that seemed to be stressed was that I'm good with weapons and in battles. Weren't you watching anyways?"

"No. I do have some discretion as mind reading goes. This is the first time you're seeing the story of your own life. That's always something that should be private."

"I can't make sense of it, Violet. It's all too new right now. Maybe if you ask in a few days..."

"That's just it," Rhea sighed. "We don't have a few days, and we need more warriors."

"If I remember correctly, you knew before I did that my memories held the key to our safety. Why don't you fill us in? Be helpful for once."

"I can't, Sara. I can see just enough to know that you have the information, but I can't access enough of your memory to know what that information is."

"That's just great. Really, Rhea. Thank you. So much."

"I don't need this now, Sara."

"Neither do I, but as a group, we all need this answer. Violet?"

"Hmm?" Violet hauled her eyes open again, not bothering to sit up. In fact, both she and Rain looked tired. That, combined with Sara's knowledge that they had been missing for most of the evening lead her to believe that the two were making side-trips to another location, or possibly another group entirely. Her feelings of mistrust came back with a strong vengeance, and she scowled.

"Never mind."

"There was something there..." Violet sounded confused as she sifted through Sara's mind. "Are you...mad at me?"

"Frustrated with everything." If the mind reader noticed Sara's too-quick answer, she said nothing, only nodded.

"Want me to see if I can find a clue in your memory? Fresh eyes and everything..."

"Give it a shot." Sara sighed and tried not to shudder as she felt the proverbial probing fingers of Violet's magic search through her newly acquired memories. It angered her to no end that the need seemed to outweigh the fairly sizeable risk in every situation she encountered, each of which somehow always involved either Violet or Rain in some way. Somewhat ironic, considering the two women were the only members of her group she considered to be untrustworthy, even taking into account their prisoner, Akona, who they knew nothing about.

"Got it." Violet grinned. "The fighting memories all came from the same source - the training you got when you lived with that old 'royal' family here in the realms. Seems that your friend Illya was a prophetess. She said you'd be back as a powerful sorceress to avenge them. I think our answer is at that house."

"Is it still here? I mean, it's been forever. Thousands of years is a long time."

"Of course it's still here." Rhea sounded appalled that Sara would think anything else. "They are the oldest magical family in all the realms. Even if the residents are, for the most part, countless generations older, it's the same family in the same palace. And they'll know all about you. Your story is passed down in their family legends in case you might need something like this. Your name will not be a foreign one. Though, I suppose they know you by your actual name..."

"I heard that in my memories." Sara nodded. "You called me something before you bound my magic, which I don't appreciate, by the way."

"Yes, your real name is not Sara. Nor is it Alkina, as you were told when you got your powers back. We had to call you by a different magical name when you re-entered the realms. Mostly to hide your true identity. Not that the Olenato could touch you now, but if your enemies, past and present, knew who you really were, you'd be in all the more danger."

"You never really stopped looking out for me, did you?"

"And I never will." Rhea vowed fervently. "I promised your mother I would, and she was my best friend. I will keep that promise to my grave and beyond."

"Devotion." Sara murmured. "It's...rather touching."

"I was her Jordan to your Sara." Rhea smiled. "I'm sure you understand."

"I do. What was...is...my name?"

"Sarayelle Alkina. Sad to say, I never knew what last name they gave you, and it changed constantly as you were bounced from family to family..."

"That's fine." Sara whispered. "Wow. Sarayelle Alkina. That actually sounds...familiar...in a way. Kind of like it belongs as much as Sara does."

"It's your real name. It should feel like that. I wouldn't give up Sara, though. It's who you are now." Rhea murmured. "Who you'll always be. Even though you have your memories back, I don't believe they'll change you so deeply that you will ever not want to be Sara."

"You're right." She sighed. "I think we should wait here tonight, then go to the house...palace...at first light."

"Sounds like a plan." Rhea nodded, smiling sympathetically as she caught Sara's slightly frantic, distracted gaze. "I'll pack up what I can tonight."

"Might as well help you," Sara said, her voice fading into the bushes as she, Rhea and Jordan walked away. "I won't be sleeping tonight."

"Did you honestly not know?" Rain asked, still on the ground with Violet half-asleep on her lap. "About her past and the royals?"

"I honestly didn't." Violet replied through a wide yawn. "I don't look into personal stuff like that on principal. But, I admit, it works out all the better for us."

"I know. The solution could have been anywhere, but it was in Caprety. It'll be nice to go back. I miss our home realm."

"We go back almost every night, Rain. You shouldn't miss it."

"I mean it'll be nice to go on...more official business. I like knowing that we have allies at hand. I bet half of Caprety's on our side now."

"It is nice. Especially since nobody here trusts us anymore."

"Nobody?" Rain raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch.

"Nobody that matters. Sara doesn't, Jordan certainly doesn't, and Rhea's getting suspicious about all our evening absences."

"But we still have...what's his name...the shape-shifter."

"Greg. Yeah, he's still on our side."

"Is he willing yet?"

"I've taken the enchantment off a couple times, but he's resistant when he's not influenced, so no. But I can handle controlling his mind. It's not exceedingly difficult, and he's mostly following Sara's orders anyways. It's like flying on autopilot."

"Well, get him ready, alright? I want our plan implemented while we're in Caprety, and he'll need to be taking our orders for this to work. I've got our old friends lined up as allies, and maybe a hundred or so others who take our position on the issue."

"You really think it's going to work?"

"Please. It's practically a given. Everybody's as sick of the 'Powers That Be' as we are, and we were born to do this."

"I'm still kind of...wary. Do you honestly think it's going to work?"

"Of course. I want a couple of enchantments on a few of the members of this group before we cross the border just to be on the safe side, but other than that, we're set to go. I'm looking at a couple of those spineless warriors Rhea brought with her, and uh...the mage from Sara's group."

"Gil? You're joking. She's keeping an eye on him."

"A close eye?"

"It could be closer, but yes."

"Whatever, Vi. If anyone can take his will from him right under her nose, it's you. We need him, and not just for the obvious reasons. She's not quite as close with him as she once was, I don't think."

"She kissed him the other day, Rain. That means something."

"It was pure excitement, nothing more."

"You're arguing with me when I can see into both their minds?"

"I've seen the way the prisoner looks at her. Akona? There's something between them. Almost like they're kindred spirits or something. I think he'll take her mind off Gil now that she's confused about her past, and that's when you need to strike. I know you still don't like this plan, but you don't need to worry, Vi. I promise you. As close as you and I are in mind and spirit, we can't fail."

"But what if we do, Rain. I've seen the prisons here. They're grotesque. And that's only if they don't kill us."

"We won't get caught. People want change, Violet. Mom knew it, and I know it. You just have to trust me here, because when I say change is coming, I mean it."

A/N: Repeating my earlier sentiments, I hope everyone liked the chapter. If any part is confusing, ask and I'll clarify. Please review! Thanks!