178

The rain didn't bother Myrah as she rushed to the tent, her heart pounding in her chest. The teen leading them had explained hurriedly that the last boat to pull to shore had found someone face-down in the sand, passed out cold. Only thing they could think of was that he had fallen off some other village's boat and washed up here, but the hope in Myrah's chest burned despite the cold drizzle. Maybe…just maybe

She beat the others to the tent once she knew which it was. Throwing back the dripping door flap, she burst in. The tent was empty other than the figure lying on a mat, a small table and fireplace nearby.

Myrah's heart sank immediately. It was dark in the tent—the fireplace cold. But even in the dim light, she could tell that the figure's hair was white, not black. It wasn't him.

"Leader Myrah…are you alright?"

Ranok, the village leader, came in after her. She wasn't sure what to say.

"Is this the healer's tent?" she finally asked, and the teen who had followed nodded solemnly.

"Yes. There are not many to go around; I believe our area's healer won't be back in this village for at least a few days. I can send for her—she may be in a nearby village."

"We will make sure the stranger is looked after," Ranok assured, his expression confused as he watched Myrah stare hopelessly at the figure on the mat. "He is most likely from a village further up the coast."

They should have trained more Healers, Myrah thought numbly. Even forcing Hershel to do those classes didn't mean there were enough to go around.

"Wait…"

The two men looked over at Myrah as she pushed her dripping hair out of her face, determination setting in.

"I will stay and see what I can do. I have been loosely trained in the Healing art."

They looked surprised, but Ranok recovered first.

"Is there anything you'll need?"

Myrah headed over to the unmoving figure as she answered. "A fire, and blankets if you can find them. If he's been in the water, then we need to…" Her voice trailed off as she reached the man on the bed mat. Myrah stared at the figure, rubbing her eyes. Surely her mind was playing tricks on her now.

"Myrah?"

Ranok had come over, his tone obviously worried.

"Perhaps it would be best if you rested…"

"I need a light."

He blinked, but turned to the young man. "Do as she says."

A few minutes later, the teen returned with a lantern. The watery light filled the small space. The teen handed the lantern to Myrah before excusing himself. With Ranok out finding blankets, the Western Leader was alone with the sleeping figure.

"It can't be…" Myrah murmured. However, as she brought the lantern next to the stranger's face, her heart twisted. Somehow, he had gotten paler—his skin was nearly translucent. His hair was nearly all white now, apart from a few soaked, dark locks. But she would know his face anywhere.

It was Hershel.

"Where have you been?" she blurted out quietly, her hand finding his. He really was so cold; she hoped Ranok would be back soon with the materials to warm him up. "What's happened to you?"

He didn't reply, his chest moving slightly as he breathed, and Myrah tried to rub warmth into his hands at least.

When Ranok returned with flint rocks for the fire and blankets, he saw the Leader staring at the sleeping man with a look of deep perplexity. Ranok's eyes drifted to where Myrah was clinging to the stranger's hand, and the village leader's face softened. "Perhaps this is who you were looking for after all?"

Myrah turned to see him in the doorway, and tried to smile. "It's Hershel…he's the Master Healer. He'll be able to fix everything."

Ranok's brow furrowed and he looked down at the stranger. "How'd he end up here?"

"I don't know."

"Was he always this pale?"

Myrah glanced back at Hershel and shook her head. "Something's happened to him. I'll have to ask him when he wakes up."

Ranok scratched his chin. "If he remembers you." He had said it more to himself, but Myrah blanched at the words and the village leader winced. "I just mean…sometimes when people go through trauma…"

She had stood now to take the blankets, her expression unreadable. "Thank you, Ranok. I'll stay here with him until he wakes."

The village leader nodded. "I'll bring your dinner in."


Pippa shivered. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and she had a horrible taste in her mouth. She grimaced as she started waking up; Lumanium tasted awful. She opened her eyes, blinking in the dim lighting. It was night again already? She shuddered; that tea must have put her out for the rest of the day. But at least the Healer hadn't gotten a chance to make her do chores, or lessons…

"Finally awake, then?"

Her expression darkened at Imgloss's voice, and she moved to push herself up off the bed mat. That's when she realized her arms really hurt. She made a little moaning sound as she squinted down at them. Bandages…why were her arms covered in bandages?

It hit her like a sniffer to the stomach.

"No…" she whimpered, her hands immediately pulling the bandages off of her arms.

"You have to leave those on," Imgloss snapped, but Pippa's eyes were wide as she stared at her forearms, where two dark bands now circled. She had been dreaming of apprentice bands for half her life; wanting more than anything for her Uncle Hershel to mark her as his true apprentice. But staring at them in the dim light of a horrible man's tent, her eyes and throat burned with hatred and injustice. Pippa was shaking with anger, and Imgloss came over to rewrap her arms.

"They need to heal," he pointed out angrily. Pippa immediately recoiled from his grasp, backing up to the tarp behind her mat.

"You tattooed me!" she shrieked, too angry to even realize she had her voice back. "I'm not your apprentice! I'm NOT and you tattooed me!"

"You are my apprentice, girl. How many times do we have to go over this?"

He grabbed her wrist to pull her over to where the bandages were, but she writhed and screamed.

"NO! NO YOU CAN'T DO IT!"

"I've already done it, you ruckus child!"

Imgloss yanked her over, but she was sobbing now, still fighting him. Her arms stung, the air mingling with her exposed and raw skin, but she hardly noticed as she continued to fight him. He finally froze her, and she continued to scream at him as he wrapped her arms once again.

"Quiet." Imgloss ordered. "Or you'll lose the privilege to your voice again. As it is, it seems I'll have to keep you frozen in this corner until your arms heal. Or can you handle your freedom, hmmm?"

Pippa yelled curse words in his face, tears streaming down her face. She watched in hatred as Imgloss finished bandaging her arms with fresh cloth. But as she looked around the tent, looking for something she could use against this horrible man, she noticed a knife on the table. And next to it, puffs of grey-black.

Her scream made the glass bottles on the shelves vibrate, and Imgloss grimaced in anger. Moments later the sound was cut off as the aura slipped down her throat, but she continued to scream silently as aura winds whipped around the tent. The power was building up inside, and she had never felt it do this before. Everything was Hatred and Rage and the need for vengeance. He had tattooed her arms. He had cut off her hair.

Imgloss stared at her, his irritation mingled with interest as he watched her continue to silently react. When the winds started knocking bottles off of shelves, he scoffed softly.

"I'd knock you out, but we don't want to put so much Lumanium in your system, do we?" he mumbled to himself. Next thing she knew, Pippa was being dragged outside while she silently howled. After getting a certain distance from the tent, Imgloss tossed her onto the sand. The freeze spell was broken, and she immediately ran her hands through her hair in horror. Short. It was so short now.

In moments she was whirling on him, hands and arms filled with aura as she went to destroy him. But before reaching him, she crashed into some kind of invisible barrier. She slammed into it over and over with flaming fists, and Imgloss just watched with quiet amusement.

"Well, get on with it then," he said impatiently. "If you're going to have an overdrive over this. Foolish girl."

His voice was impatient and patronizing—he sounded like she did when she told Baffa to go outside and relieve himself. It filled Pippa with uncontrollable rage. The aura winds filled her little prison. If she hadn't been to such an inconsolable point, she might have wondered if she was actually capable of an overdrive.

Pippa raged for a little while longer, but the power never did explode. Eventually it died down, and she was left panting in the cooling sand, too tired to even cry anymore. The final wisps of aura died down and Imgloss shook his head as he allowed the barrier to come down.

"Not quite there yet, but you got close. Closer than most children your age could get, I daresay. Perhaps there's potential in you yet."

I hate you I hate you I hate you

She repeated it over in her mind, glaring at her self-proclaimed master from her place lying on the sand. Imgloss sighed and came over to scoop her up off the ground.

"Seems that you'll be too tired now for a lesson tonight. No matter; we managed to get a lot of other things accomplished today, didn't we?

I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU

But she didn't even have the energy to punch or kick him as he carried her back into the tent. Soon she was lying back on her bed mat, the tears trickling down her face. One of her hands had managed to make it back up to her hair, and the tears fell swiftly as she ran her fingers through it again and again. No longer was it a giant fluffy cloud; It was only an inch or two long now, and none of it flopped down into her face.

"It's just hair. It will grow back…and you look less like some feral animal now."

She bared her teeth and hissed at Imgloss as he came over to squat next to her again, his gaze disapproving.

"Eat this."

Pippa looked over at the bowl that Imgloss set in front of her. If she had the energy, she would have thrown it into the fire. As it was, she just managed to turn her face the other direction in an obvious sign of dismissal.

"You've been in Lumanium-induced sleep all day, girl. You need to eat something."

She didn't move at all, and she heard him scoff.

"Nothing but trouble for two days, not to mention everything I had to accomplish just to get you here. Indeed, I've put far too much effort into you to allow you to starve to death now."

She just shrunk into herself now, wanting him to leave her alone. She hated him, and she never wanted to see him again.

"Come on, you stubborn girl…"

Pippa. Her name was PIPPA. Did he not even care what her name was?! He was surprisingly gentle as he turned her head back to face him, but his eyes were hard.

"Seems that tonight, I'll have to feed you. Eat it, girl…or I'll go take your horrible behavior out on your family for never teaching you how to respect an Ancient of the Realm."

She ate it as he fed it to her one spoonful at a time, because there wasn't anything else to do. And truly, she was starving. But Pippa continued to glare at the horrible Ancient the entire time, her thoughts one long march.

I hate you I hate you I hate you.

179

"Willow weed is for burns…why did the healer stock so much willow weed?"

The voice came into Hershel's mind, causing him to stir. Moments later he was opening his eyes to a tent ceiling full of sunlight. Sunlight. It had been so long since he'd felt it, and longer still since he'd seen it.

"Is this Ipplum? Now I've gotten it all mixed up again."

His heart thrummed as he recognized the voice. Hershel moved his head to look over, and there she was…just a few feet away. Myrah's back was turned to him; she seemed to be looking through the contents of several sacks on a small table and talking to herself. Hershel couldn't help but smile as he saw her, a peace and happiness filling him. Could it just be a dream? But he could feel her confusion…her irritation as she tried to sort through the various weeds. She had to be real. For a few minutes he just watched her, not saying anything at all. Just enjoying being near her—being able to see her—though he had no idea how it had happened. The last thing he remembered, he was drowning in the depths of the ocean.

"And cyran seed. Cyran seed is for…"

Myrah trailed off, pressing one hand to her face as she cursed softly.

"Swelling." Hershel saw her stiffen as he answered, though she didn't react much more than that. After a moment, Myrah turned, her expression blank as she met his eye. He gave her a hint of a smile. "Cyran seed is used for swelling. You must not have been paying attention during that lesson."

"Hershel." She was at his bedside in moments, kneeling down. He began pushing himself up, but she put out a hand to push him back down. "Lie back down…"

"I'm fine," he assured. He was; in fact, he felt weightless in this moment.

Myrah scowled at him. "You've been out in the ocean and who knows where else. You show up here looking like a half-drowned phantom. Your shirt is covered in what looks like blood stains…" She trailed off, concern flickering over her expression. He moved once more to get up, and her eyes narrowed as she regained her thought process. "…You are hardly fine."

"And you're the expert now?" he teased with a raised eyebrow. "You've become a full-fledge Healer in my absence, it seems."

"Stop it," she chastised, but as he stared into her eyes, something else seemed to register to her. "You…you can see me."

He finally managed to push himself up to seated position. "Yes." He didn't explain further, and he could see her confusion in her expression. What was more, he could feel it; it was so freeing, being able to sense people's emotions again. Though he seemed to be better at it now than he had ever been at it before; rather than a fuzzy glimpse of a feeling, every emotion was stark and clear.

Myrah seemed to be uncomfortable under his gaze, and she glanced away. But then her brow was wrinkling again. "Your tattoos…" She glanced up at him, at an obvious loss. "What in Ancient's name has happened to you, Hershel?"

He hesitated, one hand subconsciously pushing a pale lock of hair off his shoulder. "It's a long story," he admitted, and she scoffed.

"It would have to be…you've been missing for weeks. Do you have any idea how frantic we've all been?"

He studied her face. "You've been trying to find me?" he finally asked. "What happened to goodbye?"

A flush raced up her neck and face and she glared at him.

"Don't you dare blame this all on me!" she started, but she fell silent as he grabbed her hand.

"I would never blame any of this on you, Myrah," he explained honestly. "This was all my fault."

She still seemed to have her guard up, and he wasn't sure how to explain all of this to her. Or if he even wanted her to know about how weak he had been at the Island. How weak he had been to have gone there at all.

Myrah didn't say anything and Hershel moved to stand. She followed suit, immediately trying to get him to sit back down.

"Hershel…"

"I told you. I'm fine."

He didn't say it angrily; just honestly. The power inside him thrummed in agreement. Slowly, he glanced down at where she had grabbed his arm in her attempt to get him to sit back down. That's when he realized that one of her arms was wrapped tightly. Myrah glanced down as well, and she flushed once again as she went to release him.

"Well…then it's about time you came back. That short Ancient…he's decided that he's Ruling the realm now. Doing whatever he wants, wreaking havoc."

"Imgloss."

Hershel's expression immediately darkened, and Myrah suddenly wouldn't meet his eye.

"He…he said that you went to the Island because of me." He was surprised at the sudden emotion in Myrah's voice as she glanced back up at him. "That isn't why you went, was it? You didn't go because of what I said the night before when…"

She trailed off when she saw Hershel's expression. Myrah exhaled shakily.

"Why did you go and do a stupid thing like that?" she finally hissed, but Hershel was still looking at her arm. It looked like it was supposed to be bound to her body, but the wrappings had become loose. It was hanging at such a strange angle.

"Hershel!"

He looked back up at her conflicted expression.

"Why did you go to that Island?"

His eyes flicked across her face. "Because I love you."

Myrah's expression melted to one of disbelief, and he looked back down at her arm.

"But you already knew that," he pointed out. "You've known that for months."

"You shouldn't have gone for me, you fool," she snapped. "How could you do this, with so much on the line?"

"I only meant to be gone a few days at most. To seek the help of the First Ancients."

"Then what on earth took so long?"

Hershel's eyes flashed once. "The Island had other plans. Myrah…what have you done to your arm?"

She glanced down then, her mouth becoming a thin line. "It's broken…"

"I can see that it's broken. How did you manage to break it in the few weeks I've been gone?"

She didn't seem eager to explain, and he slowly lifted the arm from where it was hanging limply. Myrah tried to hide her grimace of pain, but he caught on to it. An idea suddenly flickered to life in his mind…Lunise sealing his wound with power. For a moment he hesitated, worried about what the repercussions could be. But his power thrummed inside him, assuring him that it would be alright.

Myrah gasped as pearly aura began to leak from his hands, engulfing her arm completely. He hoped that it wasn't hurting her. As he glanced up at her face, he could see that she was transfixed more than anything else.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was a soft hush, as if by speaking loudly she thought she would ruin the spell. He didn't answer, mainly because he didn't know. But after a moment, he removed his hands and Myrah flexed her fingers and bent her arm at the elbow.

"Its…you've…" She couldn't even form a sentence, so she finally just looked back up at him. "How?"

Hershel was staring at his hands, pearly aura jumping from finger to finger before racing across his palm.

"I don't know," he admitted, half to himself. "It's the power of the First Ancients; perhaps this is why they named themselves Healers."

She just stared at him.

"What happened to you?" she asked again, and he winced.

"Like I said, it's a long story."

The Western Leader looked like she wanted to push the matter more, but then something flickered across her face, as if she was remembering something. "You don't have time for that."

He raised a questioning eyebrow, and she looked down at her arm as if ashamed.

"It's Imgloss. He's…he has your niece."

It made his blood run cold, but then again, he had already assumed as much.

"It was just barely the full moon, and he's gone and taken her already?" Hershel growled as he headed for the front of the tent.

"He's had her for days."

Hershel paused. Myrah's voice and emotions betrayed guilt, and he turned to see her staring miserably at the ground.

"She came to me for answers about the Island of the Ancients. I had never heard of it, but I invited her to come search the library for information. Imgloss came to my fortress to retrieve her…I tried to stop him. But in the end, I couldn't."

She rubbed her recently healed arm subconsciously, and understanding flooded through Hershel, with rage not far behind.

"Where is he?"

Myrah just shook her head.

"No one knows. We've been scouring the realm ever since he took her, but no one has seen any sign of them."

But Hershel was already searching. His eyes blazed as he focused on the surface of the realm….searching between the sparks of life and powerless forms for the distinctive Ancient flame.

"I know where he is."

Myrah blinked at his sudden revelation. "How?"

"Ancients have a very distinctive aura," he explained, but she just stared at him blankly. He would have smiled if he hadn't been shaking with rage at the thought of Pippa at the mercy of the Ancient tyrant. He moved to head out, but then Myrah was grabbing his arm.

"Hershel!"

He turned with a question in his eyes, and she clenched her jaw.

"Be careful," she finally ordered. "He's an Ancient, and he's not afraid to hurt people."

"He's the one who should have been careful. I warned him what would happen if he touched my niece." His voice was darker than normal, but he felt no reason to hide his rage. Myrah scanned his face and finally shook his head.

"Is this all just a dream?" she finally managed. "You here…looking like that. Everything that's happened…"

"It's not a dream, Myrah," he assured. She was still close to him, her hand still gripping his arm. Before he could talk himself out of it, Hershel leaned forward to kiss her gently. She froze. When he pulled away, she seemed at a loss for what to say.

"You just got your sight back," she finally managed. "Hershel, I'll only put you at risk. I can't be the reason that they cripple you again."

"I don't intend to lose anything because I love you," Hershel cut in, managing a small smile. "I don't intend to listen to anyone else's rules for my life again."

"But…"

He gave her hand a squeeze.

"I have to find Pippa," he reminded. "But we'll talk all about it later; I promise you that."

Myrah looked dazed, as if she wasn't able to process everything. He wanted to be able to tell her everything right then—to help her understand. To figure out if she could still love him, even though he was now like this.

But there was no time for all that. Reluctantly, he pulled from Myrah's grip and out into the land surrounding. His eyes flashed once as the white aura kicked up around him.

It was time to punish an Ancient.

180

This was worse than a well. A well had walls...bricks or dirt barricades that made it so that you couldn't just tumble down into their terrifying depths. Pippa stared at the hole in the ground a yard away and shook. No way was she going to get water out of that thing!

She focused instead on the invisible tether on her middle. She had been trying to burn through it with her aura all morning. She tried not to think of her hair or look down at her arms, now covered by bandages and long sleeves in an effort to keep her from pulling them off. She didn't want to fall apart again. If she could just get rid of this stupid tether, she could go home. Somehow. But the tether wouldn't budge, and she clenched her fists as she switched tactics and tried to transport. But either the tether made it impossible, or she didn't actually know how to do it again. Even though the aura whipped around her, she never went anywhere.

She wasn't sure how long she had tried, but suddenly she felt the sickening tug around her middle and dread shot through her. But instead of dragging her back into the tent, she realized the Ancient was coming to her.

"What on earth have you been doing out here?" Imgloss griped as he moved across the crest of the hill up to where the well-hole was. His expression darkened further when he saw the abandoned bucket lying on the ground, filling with dust in the wind. Pippa didn't even know what else to do; she bolted. She didn't get far before the invisible rope at her waist tightened painfully, jerking her backward.

"When I send you to do something, you do it. You've just been wasting time out here doing who knows what."

"Leave me alone!" she demanded as the rope continued to rip her back to where he was holding up a blazing hand. Pip fought against the binding, but it was no use. In moments he had her arm in one hand and the bucket in the other, dragging her over to the well-hole.

"No!" she yelled, fighting him, but he ignored her. Soon she was frozen in fear as they stood near the edge of it. Pippa's breath came out in short bursts as she stared wide-eyed down into the seemingly bottomless dark hole.

"You'll be fetching water every day, girl—probably multiple times a day. I'm not having this battle every time."

"I can't…" she started, but he shook her arm.

"No more excuses!" he snapped. "No more defiance. Now do as you're told!"

He gave her a shove towards the well's opening. Pippa shrieked in fear, immediately pushing backward.

"Don't!"

Imgloss paused; he must have realized something was wrong when she started clinging to his arm in fear, her eyes wide pools as she stared at the gaping hole in the ground.

"Don't make me," She whimpered, suddenly seeming very much her age as she trembled. After a moment Imgloss scoffed softly.

"It's merely a hole in the ground; nothing to be afraid of."

She gasped as he pulled her closer still.

"Not even that deep," he explained gruffly, shoving the bucket with the rope into her hands. "Had to make it myself; with our location being so isolated, there aren't really any other water sources about."

Pippa's eyes were filling with tears; all she could think about is how easy it would be to slip down into that bottomless pit…down where it was dark and cold and cramped. Her hands gripped the bucket so tightly that they hurt, and Imgloss shook her.

"Keep a grip on the rope, and toss the bucket into the well…"

"I can't."

She really couldn't. It was bad enough back home that her parents and her Uncle had stopped asking her to get water anymore. And that was with wells with walls. She stood petrified, wishing more than ever that she could transport away from all of this. His grip tightened on her arm.

"I do not have time to fight you on every little chore," he snapped angrily. "You will be doing this, along with everything else I tell you. I am your Master…and what's more, I'm the Master Healer. Continue to defy me, and you may just find yourself at the bottom of this well!"

The threat hit home; she blanched and began to tremble in earnest.

"No!"

"Toss the bucket in, then!" he said, grabbing both her shoulders to turn her towards the hole. "For once, do as you're told without all this insolence."

If she threw the bucket in, it would suck her in after it. Something would grab the bucket and pull her in, and the mean healer would let it swallow her. Tears trailed down her cheeks as her fear finally overrode her pride.

"Please," she sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes with a trembling hand. "Please…Master Healer. Don't make me."

His grip softened slightly, and she could almost feel the sudden shift from irritation to satisfaction.

"Mmmm…finally addressing me by my title. Seems you're making steps in the right direction as far as respect goes."

She hated him so much, but she was desperate to get away from this gaping hole in the ground that seemed to get bigger with every second.

"Hold the rope, girl. Don't let go."

Her heart fell but she did as she was told, swallowing hard. Imgloss took the bucket from her. With Pippa holding the rope, he tossed the bucket unceremoniously into the hole. Pippa immediately shrieked and dropped the rope, her overwhelming fear of what was lying in wait at the bottom of the well to pull her in overcoming her reason in the moment. Imgloss cursed as he tried to grab the rope before it disappeared over the lip and down after the bucket, but he wasn't quick enough. Both Master and involuntary apprentice stood in silence as they heard it all splash down into the dark depths. There were a few more seconds of quiet, and then Imgloss turned to face her.

Pippa knew what he was going to say before he said it, and she immediately tried to run again. But he managed to grab the back of her tunic and yank her back before she had gotten far.

"No! No no no…" she wailed, and he shook her.

"Useless child!" he spat. "I only told you to do one thing, didn't I? To hold the blasted rope…but you've shown yourself incapable for even that."

He pulled her to the hole, right up to the edge until he was practically forcing her to lean into the well's gaping maw.

"Now you're going to have to go in after it."

"NO! I can't….I can't cuz it'll eat me!"

He scoffed, shaking his head angrily as she clung to him in desperation. "It will do no such thing. You will go down there and get my bucket back."

"I'm scared!" she blurted, though she loathed having to admit it to him. She was crying in earnest now.

Imgloss merely sneered at her. "You should have thought of that before you…"

Before he could say anything else, a popping noise echoed across the landscape. Pippa hardly noticed, still crying inconsolably. But Imgloss straightened, gazing out into the desert landscape.

"Who…" he started softly, but then a sudden blast erupted in the middle of the desert. Pippa squealed as she was tossed towards the well's mouth, and she barely managed to catch herself before falling in. Imgloss threw an arm up to cover his eyes as dust and aura hit hard.

"Imgloss!"

Pippa's head jerked up, her heart pounding. She knew that voice. Pippa heard a soft curse from the short man standing nearby. She glanced up to see that the self-proclaimed Master Healer had blanched as he stared off into the dust storm that had appeared. It seemed he recognized the voice as well.

"Uncle Hershel?" she murmured, hardly daring to believe it. Imgloss heard her and his expression twisted in anger.

"Impossible."

But now a figure was emerging from the dust. Pippa shrank back; the whole figure glowed bright white. Pale hair whipped around an ivory face with blazing white eyes, fixing the Ancient with a murderous look. Around the figure's hands, two aura balls shone as brightly as the moon. Who…was that?

"I warned you what would happen."

The figure was speaking with her Uncle Hershel's voice and it made Pippa's heart clench. There was no way that was her Uncle…right?

She heard Imgloss muttering to himself and she looked up to see that the Ancient was backing up rapidly, his eyes and hands lighting with aura as he regarded the stranger with a look of fear. It occurred to her that she had never seen the horrible man scared.

"You cannot be real," the Ancient growled, as if trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking. "A trick….some figment…"

"You selfish, arrogant man," the ghost spat, his eyes blazing impossibly brighter as he continued to walk towards them. "Believing that you're untouchable…undefeatable. You think you're free from consequence. But you're wrong."

"You're dead!" Imgloss yelled back, finally stopping his retreat as his hands blazed brighter. "A ghost, and nothing more. You cannot kill an Ancient. You cannot harm me."

The glowing stranger laughed…it made Pippa shiver. Her uncle had never laughed like that—it was an angry, scary sound.

"You're not my Uncle Hershel…" she mumbled to herself, but she couldn't bring herself to say it loud enough for the ghost to hear her. She didn't want him to see her. But it occurred to her that maybe she would be able to slip away while her captor was busy.

"Maybe I can't kill you," the stranger said softly, addressing the Ancient with a deadly expression. "But you can be sure I'm going to try."

Before the pale man could do anything, Imgloss had pulled something from a strap on his waist and threw it deftly. The man dodged the blade, but then grimaced. Imgloss's smile quirked dangerously as the white figure's shirt suddenly bloomed with crimson blood; it seemed the Ancient had thrown two knives.

"Mortal after all," the self-proclaimed Master Healer realized, the fear evaporating in his characteristic smugness. "Which begs the question…"

But the stranger's eyes merely narrowed. A hand had pressed to his stomach after the impact of the blade, but now pearly aura was engulfing both his hand and the wound. Imgloss's words trailed off as the stranger's pained expression disappeared, and he straightened as if nothing had happened. Pippa's eyes were wide and the Healer nearby spluttered in disbelief.

"It's not possible…"

But the pale man wasn't waiting to hear what Imgloss had to say. A wave of power erupted from his hands, and the short Ancient desperately launched a counter-attack. But his purple aura was quickly overcome by the white power cascading from the blazing form. Pippa watched only a moment longer before finally deciding to bolt for it. But despite the fact that Imgloss was invested in something else, the tether spell seemed to still be in full force. It wasn't long before Pippa had gotten to the end of her invisible rope, and she twisted and whimpered as she hit the sand and tried once again to free herself from it.

The white wave was surrounding the short Ancient now, and Imgloss cursed and quickly set up a force field around himself. Outside of his protective bubble, the pearly aura lapped like deadly water. The Ancient panted, sweat beading on his brow.

"Who are you?!" Imgloss demanded. The form scoffed.

"Do you really not recognize me?" he taunted, and Pippa watched with wide eyes as the form moved his hands. It looked like he was crushing something in his grip, and she heard Imgloss grunt as the aura began wrapping around his shield. The force field groaned from the pressure as the stranger continued. "I guess I do look a little different than the last time we spoke."

"You cannot be Hershel," Imgloss challenged through clenched teeth. "That weakling must have perished on the Island. Why have you stolen his form? Why have you come for me?"

The stranger's eyes narrowed, his hands clenching further. There was a cracking sound, and the Ancient's shield started to break down.

"Underestimating me," the pale figure murmured. "I guess I should be used to that."

Imgloss was staring at the cracks zig-zagging across his barrier, his expression a mix of disbelief and terror.

"Impossible…"

"It's me, Imgloss," the stranger assured with deadly sincerity. "I told you I would be back. And I told you what would happen if you ever touched my niece…"

Pippa's stomach clenched harder. Niece? Was it Uncle Hershel? She took in the murderous look, the hair flying free in the wind of his aura instead of being tied at the nape of his neck. His tattoos were gone…and his whole body seemed to pulse with light.

"Uncle Hershel?" she whispered again, but his attention was still consumed by the Master Healer, who was desperately trying to keep his shield from breaking down.

"Who are you?" Imgloss roared again, and the other man yelled out as he suddenly ripped his hands apart. The shield exploded.

Pippa shrieked and once again tried to back away from the battle occurring a few yards away. But her tether kept her bound to the Master Healer, who was now cursing and fighting the frothy wave of power.

"You know who I am!" the pale stranger challenged angrily, and he moved his hands again as if to tell the power to constrict. The Ancient cried out as the pearly aura began squeezing him, lifting him into the air in a deadly vice.

"This power…you shouldn't be able to…this is impossible…" Imgloss said as the power squeezed tighter. The veins in his neck and face were popping out, and Pippa could tell he was afraid. In fact, the Ancient Healer seemed absolutely terrified. It should have made her happy…but in reality, the entire scene made her want to run and cry at the same time. But she couldn't leave, so she hunkered down to cower in the sand.

"I'm not the same person I was when you dropped me off at the Island," the figure explained coldly. "But that doesn't mean that I forgot who I was…forgot what I promised to do. I didn't suggest we dissolve the organization so you could hurt people, taking what you want with no thought of consequence, and force my niece into slavery!"

With each word, the power seemed to squeeze tighter. Imgloss seemed to be struggling for breath, and the pale man's voice became soft.

"You recognize this power…don't you? The Power of the First Ancients."

"You…should not…be able….to wield it…"

"Maybe I'm not as weak as you've always thought I was."

Imgloss cried out as the power grew tighter, and Pippa heard something crack.

"I am…an Ancient! There must…be…a life price…"

He sounded more desperate than demanding, and the powerful man scoffed again.

"Perhaps…but I think I'll see how far this power can take us. You hardly deserve any better: lying, poisoning, bargaining with desperate people in order to take what's precious to them. Hurting Myrah… kidnapping a child to fulfill your own selfish need for entertainment!"

With each accusation, Imgloss gasped and choked. The power was killing him, Pippa realized. Her father had said that nothing could kill an Ancient…but it seemed that for once, her father was wrong about something. Imgloss's words were strangled now, almost too hard to hear over the buzzing aura.

"You…can't…"

"It seems that I can."

The stranger's eyes continued to blaze as he began bringing his hands together; the finishing blow. Pippa's eyes widened, and Imgloss spluttered in fear and desperation.

"….Mercy…"

It was all he could manage, the cracking sound occurring again, the breath squeezed from his lungs. But the pale figure merely narrowed his eyes.

"After everything you've done to me…to my family…to this realm? You didn't show me mercy, Imgloss. You do not deserve it yourself."

Imgloss didn't say anything; he couldn't. His face was red and his mouth hung open like a fish as he desperately tried to gasp for air, the aura around him ready to destroy him after all. The pale man brought his hands together…

"STOP!"

Pippa's shriek pierced the scene, and the stranger paused just before initiating the finishing blow. His eyes glanced over until the saw her cowering in the sand, and the child shook as his glowing eyes rested on her.

"….Pippa…"

His voice changed then. Suddenly, he sounded more like her Uncle Hershel would— soft and comforting. In fact, he sounded surprised…like he hadn't realized she was there. Pippa shook in fear.

"Go away!" she shouted, shaking. She didn't know who this was, pretending to be her Uncle, but tears streamed down her face as she tried to back up away from him. "Stop it!"

The man merely stared at her, and Imgloss managed to gasp a feeble breath as his attacker's focus waned. The pale version of Hershel got a strange expression on his face as he continued to look at her.

"Pip…it's me. Hershel…"

"You aren't my Uncle!" she spat, shaking hard in the sand. His expression became pained, his hands faltering a little more.

"I know I look a little different now…"

"Uncle Hershel would never do that!" she interrupted, gesturing at the Ancient in the throws of deadly power. "Even to the worst person in the whole entire world!"

The stranger's expression was flickering with different emotions, but Pippa continued to glare at him.

"My Uncle taught me that hurting people who hurt you doesn't do any good! He wouldn't do this….you're not him!"

She half expected the man to get angry and attack her next for yelling at him. She was rigid with fear at the thought. However, the man stumbled back like her words were a blow. Then he was looking up at the Ancient,still struggling for breath in his aura's grip. There was a minute where the stranger seemed like he was fighting himself, anger and uncertainty flashing across his face. She watched to see what he would do, her heart pounding. She hated Imgloss…it wasn't so much that she didn't want him to die. But seeing it happen like this made her feel sick.

The man lowered his hands. The wave disappeared and the Ancient crashed to the ground with gasping and hacking. His freedom was short lived, however, because suddenly chains of pearly light burst into being and bound him tightly in a bundle on the ground. Imgloss cursed angrily, but then a gag darted across his face and he could do nothing but lie in the dirt…injured and alive.

"I hope that added enough excitement to your life," the stranger growled at his prisoner. His power dimmed; his hair stopped flying around, his hands and eyes fading back to normal. He sank to the ground, and Pippa realized suddenly that he had been floating a little. Just an inch or so off the sand, but it shocked her regardless. She had never met someone who could float.

The man turned and fixed his eyes on her once more. They were no longer filled with white light, but they weren't deep brown like her Uncle's. She could see them better as he started approaching, and she whimpered. They were a faded color now…like a formation that had been bleached by the sun and worn down by wind. In the center there were soft pools with a muted glow; the barest hint of what was inside.

"Pip…" he started, and she tried to push herself away from him in the sand. The man's expression twisted with pain. "I won't hurt you, Pippa. I would never hurt you."

"Go away," she tried again, but now her voice was small. He had reached her, and she squeezed her eyes shut. But when she didn't feel any zapping—or even a touch—she opened them again. The stranger was kneeling next to her, frowning at something in his hands. At least, he seemed to be looking at something in his hands, but there was nothing there. His brow furrowed a moment and Pippa gasped as the invisible rope suddenly caught fire and burned with white flames. She stiffened as the power went around her middle, but she didn't feel anything but a warm feeling and a tickle. The child swallowed hard as she watched the power die. As she backed up again, she realized that she was free of the Master Healer's horrible spell at last.

Pippa bit her lip as she ran her hands around her middle, and then glanced back up at the stranger. He didn't make any move to touch her, and she realized that he looked so sad in that moment. It was the sadness in his eyes that helped her truly recognize him.

"…Uncle Hershel?" she tried. It did look like him…his face was the same. The sorrow in his expression was the same. He nodded slowly.

"It's me. Pippa, I'm so sorry…"

"What happened?" she cut in. "If you are my Uncle Hershel, why do you look so freaky looking now? And how come you can see again?"

He winced, his expression flashing with hurt and guilt.

"I was at the Island of the Ancients," he explained carefully. "And it…changed me."

She didn't say anything as she stared, and he sighed heavily, suddenly not meeting her eye.

"I'm so sorry, Pippa. After everything I promised, he was able to take you. I did everything I could to get here in time, but…"

He stopped in surprise as she threw her arms around his neck, but Pippa was too busy sobbing into him to notice.

"I knew…you weren't dead…"

She felt his strong arms wrap around her then, holding her tightly as he sighed again.

"Thanks to you, Pippa," he murmured. She pulled back, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"Whatta you mean?" she asked softly, and he held her face in his hands. His touch was steady, gentle. Even though he didn't look it, it seemed this pale stranger really was her uncle.

"You helped me escape that awful place," he explained with a little smile. "I could hear you calling for me…it helped me remember who I was."

She scowled a little. "How could you forget something like that?"

His expression flickered with something unreadable.

"It's a long story, Pip," he finally explained. But his brow was furrowing further as he really looked at her. "Your hair…"

She scowled furiously.

"He cut it," she mumbled, throwing a glare in Imgloss's direction. "And…and he…."

Her voice wavered, and she had to stop as the tears caused her throat to constrict completely. She tugged up the sleeves of the long-sleeved shirt Imgloss had forced her into that morning, and went to pull away the bandages. Hershel's expression immediately darkened at the sight of the cloth wrapping her arms, and there was a muffled yelp a few yards away where the chains tightened around their prisoner. Pippa was crying again, her hands fumbling with the bandages. Then her Uncle's warm hands were moving hers, gently removing the bandages himself. She sniffed pitifully as the apprentice tattoos were revealed, her misery bubbling up inside and making her want to curl up in a ball. For some reason, having to show her uncle the apprentice marks of another Master filled her with shame. But Hershel didn't look disappointed. He was furious. As she heard Imgloss's pained cries, Pippa realized that her uncle's wrath wasn't geared towards her.

"I didn't want him to," she finally managed. "But he just did it…"

Hershel seemed in another place as his hand gently wrapped around the tattoo. She winced as his palm came into contact with her raw skin, and he glanced up with an apology in his eyes. But then his hand and her arm were enveloped in a warm glow, and Pippa's grimace of pain faded when a happy feeling rushed over her skin. Her mouth hung open as Hershel finally removed his hand.

"Oh…"

It was all she could say as she studied the place where her skin had been red and angry, and where the dark line had circled her arm. Now it looked like nothing had ever happened. She finally swallowed and looked up at him. "How'd you do that?"

He gave her a soft smile, though she could see that fury was still burning in his eyes. "Like I said, the Island changed me."

He moved and healed her other arm as well, and she glanced down at the red stain on his shirt.

"Is that how come you could still fight after he hit you?"

He nodded. Goosebumps raced across Pippa's head and down her back at the warm, tingling feeling of the healing magic on her arm.

"And is that how come you don't have any tattoos anymore?" she asked as he pulled away, her other arm healed as well.

"Yes."

His mind seemed far away, and she grabbed his wrists to bring his attention back to her.

"Are you ever gonna put them back?" she asked, and his brow furrowed. She looked at his eyes while he was thinking. It was still strange how much he did look like her Uncle…while also not looking like him at all.

"I'm not sure," he finally admitted, his eyes looking down and tracing a spot on his wrist. "Maybe one of them."

"Is it really you, Uncle Hershel?" she asked. "Like…really honestly?"

He smiled a little, but it looked sad.

"It really is me, Pip. I promise. And now that I'm back, I won't let anything ever happen to you again."

His voice was more familiar now, not scary like it had been when he had fought with Imgloss. Pippa realized suddenly that she was tired, and she leaned into him.

"Do you have lots of cool powers now? Cuz you can heal stuff…and fly…"

"I can't fly, Pip."

"You were floating; that's like flying," she argued without missing a beat. "And you get super glowy when you're mad…"

She sat up, the realization suddenly occurring as she looked at him with wide eyes.

"Can you turn me into a gecko now?"

He stared at her blankly and she waved her arms.

"Cuz you've got all this new power! Could you change me into a gecko now? Or a dragon? Or a…"

He laughed out loud. Pippa trailed off and couldn't help but smile. It wasn't the sad little chuckles he had done for the last few months, or the mean, hateful laughter that he had geared towards Imgloss. This was genuine laughter, and Pip realized it had been such a long time since she had heard it from him. She couldn't help but grin.

"No Pip…I don't think I could turn you into any of that," he finally explained with a smile.

"Are you sure?" she challenged, and he paused. She had expected him to reply that of course he was sure, but he seemed to actually be thinking about it. Was he not sure?

"I think it's time we get you home," Hershel finally said, moving to lightly tweak her nose. It was a gesture that he used to do back when she was really little…like three or four. He had stopped doing it when she had gotten to be old and mature. The six-year old realized in surprise that she missed it…even if it was a baby thing. But then her uncle's words sank in and she nodded.

"Mom and Dad are probly so worried," she realized, and her uncle's expression became pained. Pippa gave him a smile. "But now they'll be ok…cuz they'll get me and you back!"

He nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, and Pippa followed suit.

"They were worried about you, Uncle Hershel. Everybody was."

He winced at her soft, genuine tone.

"I know. I…I'm so sorry, Pippa."

"You'll have to tell Archtiphos you're ok too."

Hershel looked down at her in surprise, and she shrugged.

"He didn't ever say he was worried…but he was. I could tell."

The Pale Master didn't say anything, but then he was lifting her up onto his hip. Pippa didn't really let herself be carried much, and her Uncle hadn't done so in years. But in this moment, she didn't mind at all as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Uncle Hershel? What are you gonna do with the mean healer?"

He turned and his eyes flashed as he caught sight of the Ancient, still bound in chains as he writhed and twisted on the ground.

"I will get you home first, Pip. Then I'll come back and deal with him."

"…Are you going to kill him?"

Her voice was soft, and she could see his expression shift to become the scary Hershel again. Not fully…but there was enough anger in his eyes. She realized then that her Uncle really wasn't the same person he used to be.

"He will have to be punished," Hershel finally admitted. "Whether it's giving his life or something else. But he cannot be allowed to go unchecked any longer; he's proven that much in my absence."

His voice was cold and heavy, and Pippa glanced over at the man in chains. She wasn't really sure what her Uncle would decide, but after a moment she shuddered and realized that she didn't care. She just wanted to get back to her mom and dad….and she never wanted to see the Ancient again. She laid her head on her uncle's shoulder, mumbling exhaustedly.

"Let's go home."

22