A/N: From here on out, there will be elements of "Tears." Not exactly like the episode, but close enough to be considered spoilers.

Loved

Darken set a hard pace, knowing that the others would follow if only because they feared to let him out of their sight. The summer solstice, the day the Stone of Tears had to be placed among the Pillars of Creation was fast approaching, but with the speed of their travel now that they had horses they should make it there with one or two days to spare.

And then Hali would give him the stone and he would seal the veil and be hailed by all as the savior of the world, assured an eternal place in the Creator's light.

Loved.

D'Hara would swiftly be under his rule again, and Cara would return with him. Perhaps he would allow her the honor of birthing him another heir. He had lost the taste for Confessor powers after hearing of his murderous almost-spawn.

If he was feeling magnanimous he would allow the Confessor and his brother to live and send them off to Aydindril.

It would reassure his enemies that he would be a fair and just ruler, crush the rebels before they could begin to turn the masses against him.

All would still be under his rule of course. But he saw now that he had been foolish to oppose the Seeker. It gave the people a living martyr on whom they could pin their hopes and anguish. By his very actions he had set the prophecy in motion.

This time Richard Rahl would serve under his brother, the public face of justice.

So long as he could be controlled.

Sister Alexia inched forward to the place where Sister Marianna lay slumbering. They were traveling quickly in all directions to gather the forces to complete Marianna's plan to serve the Keeper. It was Alexia's turn to keep watch while the others caught up on missed sleep.

So close. Stretch out the fingers, hold back the sleeve of the red dress so it doesn't drag, touch the key resting at Sister Marianna's waist. It's warm from the light of the sun.

A sigh and a shift, flickering eyelids. Sister Marianna most likely communes with the Keeper in her dreams. She rolls away and Alexia loses her opportunity.

So close.

Darken leaned back, dipping his hair into the cool waters of the stream they had camped near. The forests had begun to give way to marshes and the ground grew sandier the farther they went. The water he bathed in now was brackish. Soon they would reach the salt flats that led to the sea.

And the Pillars of Creation.

There was a flash of light and a sudden sucking of wind, as if air was suddenly missing. Darken opened his eyes.

"Sister Nicci… you're looking well."

She wore a black dress with a leather bodice, no longer the signature robes of a servant of the Keeper.

"I'm looking for the Seeker."

"And what makes you think that I know of his whereabouts?" Darken's mind whirred, "for that matter, how did you find me?"

"You're easy to track," she said arrogantly, "I just have to look for what isn't there."

"How cryptic. Have you been practicing?"

If he was thoroughly irritating she would leave him in peace. Hopefully before one of the busybodies he traveled with came to make sure he hadn't done anything particularly dastardly during his bath.

As if he did things just to do them. If there was no gain he would sooner save the energy.

Nicci flicked her long blonde hair over a shoulder, attempting to intimidate with a glare.

"We have something in common, Darken Rahl. Neither of us serve the Keeper anymore."

"Yes. Fickle master, isn't he? So hard to keep him happy."

"I am the most powerful sorceress in the Midlands. I can help the Seeker find the stone and protect him. If," she narrowed her eyes, "you tell me where he is."

"I don't know."

She sneered, a subtle ugly expression, "So this is the great Darken Rahl? Skinny dipping in the middle of nowhere waiting for his baby brother to save the world."

"If I have learned anything, it is never to wager against my brother. The veil will be sealed. Besides, waiting isn't so bad," he raised a hand to touch his lips, "if you know how to pass the time. Can I interest you in a bath? Though I am afraid the water's rather cold."

"Let me," she pointed a hand and he had just enough time to brace himself, eyes imperceptibly widening, "heat it up for you."

Lightning shot from her palm and arched into the water. Darken curled in on himself, jerking spasming as the current ran through his body. Steam rose and flesh cooked, dead fish rising to the surface of the water.

He had felt pain like this once before, when covered in green flames. His skin crackled and his hair smoked, it became hard to think. His ligaments shrunk, turning his hands to misshapen claws. He opened his mouth to tell her what she wanted, anything to make this stop –

Cara dove into the path of the attack, hand outstretched to turn the lightning back at Nicci. The blue bolt of fire rebounded into the sorceress and Cara gritted her teeth, putting every ounce of Mord'Sith magic into increasing the woman's pain.

No one harmed Lord Rahl and lived to tell the tale.

It was a matter of honor for the Mord'Sith.

And a matter of something else entirely for Cara.

Nicci stopped the flow of her magic, screaming shrilly, her hair smoking and her clothes melting to her body. Cara stalked to her, Agiel in hand, prepared to finish the job. The burned mummy muttered something in the language of magic and Cara lunged, only to strike her Agiel against a tree by the stream side.

Nicci had vanished.

Cara waded into the uncomfortably hot water, cursing the heavy boots that dragged at her feet. Lord Rahl was floating face down. She quickly turned him over and pulled him to the shore. His skin flaked off in her hands. Tiny beads of blood welled all over like perspiration, leaving a trace of pink in their wake.

The dead fish smelled.

She dragged him onto the sandy loam of the stream side. There was no response, even though she knew the grit would hurt his burns horribly. Cara had once employed that technique herself.

She searched for a sign of life, desperate to find one. He was too badly burned to save with the breath of life, and Hali would not be able to heal a dead body. She removed her gloves and placed a hand against his chest and another against his throat, uncaring that his flesh was spongy under her fingers.

"Lord Rahl," she whispered in his ear, then louder when there was no response, "Lord Rahl!"

Still nothing.

"Lord Rahl... Darken," she swallowed, her voice hitched, a high breaking note that she could not control, "I don't want you to die."

His lips twitched.