With Eyes Closed to the Sun An Epilogue

by Croik

As Ashley, Sydney, Merlose, and Joshua make their way back home after Lea Monde, Ashley searches for the answer to his mysterious past

2. Default Chapter Title

Eyes Closed to the Sun--An Epilogue

Part 3

Sydney tightened his jaw as he stood slowly from the bed. He had never felt this weak before, not in his entire life. He was cold. To most this would have been nothing extraordinary--he was, after all, only half-clothed on a chilly night. But for Sydney Losstarot, the feeling of his flesh tingling with cold was another first-time experience. His body had since his birth retained a natural warmth; it almost radiated from him as proof of the power his human skin encased. Now, that power was all but drained out of him. Alone in the quiet room, he felt a loneliness descend upon him. A familiar, penetrating loneliness.

Being careful not to upset the still healing flesh on his back, Sydney wrapped the bed sheet around his shoulders. It was only a mild comfort against the temperature. He moved with slow steps to the open window, and seated himself upon the sill. He couldn't remember how many nights he'd spent this way, staring out at fresh stars with a quiet, solitary longing. Ever since that day, when his body cried in pain, and his blood flowed like rain….

Sydney felt his metal arms growing tense, and he forced himself to relax. There was no use in feeling bitterness or regret now. Ashley had been right--the hunt was over. He'd been snared, stabbed, even skinned--he grinned ironically at the thought--and now, was waiting only for the inevitable outcome.

/Not yet. Not until I am certain./

He sighed, closing his eyes. He reached inside himself, slipping deep into the darkest recesses where he rarely dared to travel. Into his memories. He recalled that hot summer day with a startling clarity: the stifling, humid air within the underground temple; the damp feel of the rocks; the dozens of shadows created by hundreds of tiny glittering candles. Hardin's hand was on his shoulder--for a moment he could feel it, pressing against flesh that was now gone. There were others there, faces hidden in the corners, afraid to speak or even breathe least they disturb the ceremony. The axe handle smelled thickly of leather in the moist air. The blade shone in the dim light like reflections off a golden moon.

/That was the night that gave me hope,/ Sydney thought distantly, still gazing wistfully at the far-off stars. /When I knew someday a man would come, and grant me salvation from that wretched life. Without knowing his name or countenance, only the imprint of his soul upon my own, waiting…always wondering…./

Sydney sighed deeply, grimacing as the pain spread through his back. /I…I chose true, did I not? Ashley, I waited all my life to meet you. You cannot be false./ He pursed his lips into a thin frown, his metal hands curling around each other in frustration. /You cannot. My soul would not lie to me--you must be the one./

Ashley stalked out of the small village, uncaring that he was shirtless, barefooted, and unarmed. The night air was chill against so much uncovered flesh--nothing beyond what he was used to. The tiny rocks that bit into the soles of his feet when unnoticed. He didn't even realize that the Blood Sin carved into his back had begun to sting anew, as if digging deeper into his flesh, seeking to place its mark upon his very bones. He only continued to march to the edge of the forest. The dark thicket of trees that would have made anxious even the bravest of men was now nviting him to lose himself inside their twisting maze of bush and shadow. He accepted, pushing without reserve or falter into its core.

/Tia…I thought that you had forgiven me./

He stumbled, growled at himself, and continued on. His limbs were stiff and resistant to the movement--why should he be here, seeking answers from the wilderness when rest and slumber awaited him back at the inn? Running from Sydney, from Merlose, from the nightmare would not grant him peace, but only a momentary reprieve from the madness. As soon as he returned, it would start again; as soon as sleep was achieved, the visions would ignite. This restless wandering was his only peace.

At last Ashley slowed, too weary to continue. Only now did his scarred and blistered feet voice their complaint at his cruel treatment. With a heavy sigh he sank to the ground, and leaned his back against the rough bark of a nearby tree. /What am I doing?/ he wondered, rubbing at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. / Coming out here…have I gone mad at last?/ Another deep, remorseful sigh slipped through his lips. /Always, the truth eludes me. I…I thought she had forgiven me. But those visions…the warmth in her lips…in his eyes…were they fabrications from mine own mind? Our love…our happiness…./

The Riskbreaker shook his head fiercely. "No. How can I accept that?" He lifted his head, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. / Agent Merlose interrupted me earlier. Sydney may not be able to see my true history, but I know the voices--I know my own soul. Perhaps I can succeed where he failed. I must try./

Ashley concentrated as he had earlier, raising the image of the broad-leafed oak that stood alone amid the endless grassy plains. He heard his son's laughter before he saw his face, and cringed, the innocent voice pressing into him. He broke his own concentration before allowing himself to view the death again.

/No, this is wrong. It does me no good to see that horror again. I must…delve deeper./ He took in more fresh air, and reached back, past the fields. To a dim, crowded room where people laughed and dance, surrounded by a haze of smoke and alcohol stench. A celebration. Music spread through the cracks between the people as they pranced about the small establishment in the steps of a gleeful dance. Their laughter circulated more easily than their own breath, so stifling was the atmosphere.

/I remember this. I know this place./

Across the churning mass of spinning bodies and limbs, two pairs of eyes joined, and then were lost again. Two people sought each other out among the crowd. Two voices laughed, sang, and bid farewell come the evening's end, never knowing what else may lie in store for them. Unaware that they would meet several days later by chance, beneath the ever-comforting leaves of the far-stretching oak.

/We met that night at a celebration. She was beautiful, blindingly. But I did not think of her until our paths crossed once more out in the meadows. The secret place we would both escape to when weary. Fate was kind to us that day./

Ashley opened his eyes, though the images stayed with him even then. A soft, sad smile came into his lips. "I remember," he murmured joyfully. And other, trivial memories paraded across his sight: walking through the streets in the rain; catching a cold and being teased for his cold all that week; Marco, tottering across the room only to poke his father in the eye. True memories--so real that he could feel them in his eyes, his ears, his hands. Pure reality. Their wedding ceremony, the first time they made love, the birth of their beautiful son--

/Where was the ceremony held?/

He paused, caught by this sudden, seemingly unimportant concern. Where had the wedding taken place? He remembered the ornate building, decorated with paintings and tapestries donated by their family and friends. Faces came in and out of focus. But what was the name of the place? It had had such a beautiful name, that small house on the outskirts of the city.

/What was the name of the city?/

Again Ashley was forced to stop. He had no idea what the name of the town was, or even what province it had been in. Where had they lived together those six short years of marriage? Where had they met--where had his son been born? Tia's father had been a wealthy merchant within the town they resided, a kind man who wished all the best for his daughter and her family. Christophe--that was his name. Christophe DeLen. But where had his business flourished so well?

His heart began to sink once more. He could not recall the name of the place that had been their home, or where he had come from before the marriage. Not a single name to fit the faces of their companions at the wedding reception remained in his memory. Their lonely oak--where was it now?

/The city of Terrall. A hungry city of whispers, where all children were orphans forced to beg in the streets. Where the tax collectors could not perform their duties; there was nothing but poverty to seize. I grew up in such a place. There were no wealthy merchants in Terrall, no beautiful women with sun-silk hair, no rolling plains and sturdy trees. Only sellswords and thieves./

/And Jan Rosencrantz./

Suddenly, unwillingly, he remembered how he had met Rosencrantz, referred to as "Shadowlicker" among Terrall's inhabitants. He was no older than Ashley himself--a brash youth with too much skill, and even more ambition. His beady eyes had sought out Ashley, realizing opportunity; he could profit well by depending on his comrade. They would join the VKP, he said, and become the silent angels of justice in this forsaken world. They would gain revenge on those that had cast them down into so pitiful a life, and save the victims that resembled them so much. Honor and duty and morality--upholders of the law. Men deprived of recognition to keep from becoming tainted.

For they had certainly felt tainted, living in the filth.

Ashley scrubbed at his eyes once more. /A pair of tales, each delicately woven, one no more believable than the other. For if Rosencrantz's words be true, from whence did so many clear memories originate? I am not so imaginative to have created them. Were they false, with this power I should be able to detect as such./ He shook his head--the visions were too clear to have been fabricated. /And this…./

Ashley pressed a hand over his chest to where the carved metal rood lay upon its silver chain. Tia had worn it every day of her life, strengthened by her faith. He could not imagine her without it hanging from her neck. He had taken it from her after her death. Though he had lost his faith in the symbol's true intent, it was part of her, and it kept him alive.

"Tia," he murmured, bringing the pendant to his lips, "you forgave me, didn't you?"

A gentle breeze began to blow. Ashley sighed, allowing his heavy breath to join it. Morning would soon be upon him. Slowly he climbed to his feet. /I am weary. To remain here will do gain me nothing. Perhaps…Sydney could help me. I must learn to understand my power if I am to use it effectively./

Ashley began his way slowly back towards Bevllou, placing his hand against a steady tree trunk every once and a while to help him along. By the time he reached the outskirts of the sleepy town, dawn's prelude glow was upon the eastern hills. It's optimistic foretelling of a new day was lost to him; he turned away from the brilliance, shaking his head. The sunrise had lost its beauty a long time ago as far as he was concerned. With yet another sigh he made his way back towards the inn.

He didn't make it that far. Near the town's outskirts he came across a scene he hadn't anticipated: Agent Merlose, sitting with her back propped against the wall of a shallow alley wall. He halted his approach before she could spot him. Some part of him felt an odd twisting of guilt—he hadn't meant to speak cruelly to her earlier. Even from his far-off vantage point he could see that her eyes were a bit swollen from the shedding of many tears, and her limbs were limp with fatigue.

/I've no need to apologize. She was presumptuous and far too abrupt./ He frowned thoughtfully to himself. /I…I could sway her. With this power…./ Inadvertently his shoulders rotated, as if calling the mark upon his back into life. /I could make her forget her sorrow, whatever it be. I could will her into contentment./ His frown deepened, filling him with unnerving indecision. /It would be so easy, with this power Sydney has given me. To twist hearts, as he has so often done./

But before Ashley could decide let alone act, another figure came into view: Joshua. He had forgotten about the boy during the confusion of the last several hours. /He is so young, I wonder how much he understands? Younger than Marco was…./

As he watched, the boy walked slowly to Merlose's bent, limp form. His young eyes were wide and questioning, his smile comforting. As a child he could not have understood what troubled her; but he moved to her with such certainty and compassion as only the innocent can provide, and wrapped his short, chubby arms around her neck. She glanced up sharply, surprised by the sudden outpouring of concern from the young boy. Her lips moved without knowing the words behind them. Glad for his silent, willing support, she smiled. She cleared her eyes and touched his head in a sigh of affection. He was welcomed into a warm, thankful embrace.

Ashley watched, somewhat mystified by the short scene. Slowly, the understanding came to him. /So that's your small power, young one,/ he thought to himself wonderingly. /Without a word, without even hesitation, you mend her. You have more courage than I./ He smiled grimly, and stepped forward, into Merlose's line of sight.

The Inquisitor spotted him and straightened immediately, though she did not attempt to urge Joshua away. She even seemed to be depending on the boy. Ashley tried to convey a look of peace—he didn't want to frighten her away, now that he had come to make amends. He seated himself in front of her, holding up a hand to fend off the words that were forming in her mouth. "I apologize," he declared, though softly, as it was a phrase he was unaccustomed to.

Merlose fairly gawked—she had expected nearly everything but that simple statement. Her lips fumbled over a response. "There's no need," she stammered. "Agent Riot, I am the one who—"

"No. I reacted hastily, and I…was unjust. Forgive me."

She stuttered stupidly once more. "Of course. I—I apologize as well," she managed at last. "I do, whether…need be or none."

Ashley nodded. "Accepted." /Yet I still do not understand why she acted in such a fashion. Could it be she…she perhaps finds interest in me?/ He did his best not to frown openly, though he did find the concept rather disconcerting—he wasn't sure why. "But if I may ask," he began carefully.

"I should explain," she murmured, looking to Joshua as if for help. He returned her gaze with questioning, unobtrusive eyes. "You see…." She gulped, and would not look Ashley in the face. Again he wondered if it would be easier to ask directly of her mind, but he restrained himself, waiting. "You remind me of my father," she said blurted out.

The Riskbreaker recoiled only slightly as proof of his surprise. He wanted to question, but remained silent, hoping for a deeper explanation.

"My father was a cold man," Merlose went on, her head bowed, still holding Joshua close to her. Her fingers moved slowly and unknowingly through his thin blond hair; he didn't seem to mind. "He…would have rather I been born a man, as I am his only child. My mother became barren, somehow, after bringing me into this world." She blinked her eyes rapidly, suppressing tears of shame. "I toiled hard, to prove myself to him. I earned only his silence in return. He died…two years ago. Just before I was named an Inquisitor."

"I'm sorry," Ashley said, at a loss for anything else.

She shook her head, and scrubbed at her eyes. "I only regret never earning his approval. He was so quiet, so cold, and I…." She licked her lips and pushed the words through. "I so wanted to make him proud. If only one smile, if only…." At last she raised her head, and met the eyes of the man before her. "Perhaps I saw a bit of him, lying beneath your eyes, Agent Riot. I cannot stand to see a man so isolated, so uncaring. It frightens me. But when we touched…I saw something come to life in you. Something small but real…and I thought…."

Merlose chuckled at herself and her foolishness. Ashley could only stare. "I thought I could help you," she whispered. "I saw the man I could never reach, just beside me. I hoped to make you feel some warmth…."

Ashley stared at her, not knowing what to say or what even to think. The understanding came gradually over him; he felt foolish now, for misunderstanding her intentions so horribly. She had only wanted to help him, and he had forced her away.

"I once had a family." The words leapt from him before he knew that they were waiting inside him, cycling through his lungs, on the tip of his tongue. And a tremor ran through him, rising emotions that he'd tried to hide: pain, regret, sorrow. He'd kept them in check, focusing on the rational dilemma of unwinding his twisted memories. He'd not been allowed to dwell on the loss itself. "A wife, named Tia, and a young son, barely older than Joshua." He looked the boy over appraisingly, who was now watching him with those silently forgiving eyes. /Why does he make me feel so calm? Or am I merely seeking my answers wherever I can?/ "They were killed, several years ago. Or so my memories told me."

Merlose watched him intently; the unnatural intimacy he was exposing was a gesture not lost on her. Ashley went on hesitantly. "But the city told me otherwise. Sydney…he reached into my very soul, showing me a different tale. He told me that my family…my life…was nothing more than a lie given to me by the VKP." She gasped just barely. "That they had manipulated mine own cherished memories, to the purpose of molding me to their will. To ally myself to their justice."

"But Sydney's power—" Merlose began.

"Aye, I know." Ashley raised his head, and found that he could not keep his eyes off the young boy who remained at his fellow agent's side. Those soft brown eyes gave him peace. "And now, the playwright has lost sight of his script—he knows not which tale is true."

She frowned deeply. "He may claim so."

"I trust him." The declaration surprised even him, but he did not question its merit. "Sydney…it seems that he does not wish to lie to me further. He is uncertain, as I am uncertain." He sighed deeply, and then paused, as a tiny hand took his. Joshua was staring up into his face, smiling frankly. Before those young, untainted eyes, Ashley found no arguments. /You do have a power, little one,/ he mused silently. Ashley gently patted the boy's head, and his lips turned upward in a smile. It was the first pure expression to light the Riskbreaker's features in a long time, which did not go without notice from Merlose. But Ashley barely recognized her presence, as his focus was entirely on the boy. /Even Sydney was young like this, once. He most likely even bore a similar appearance. We were all once innocent as children./

Ashley paused, remembering the vision he'd been treated to the night previous, high atop the Grand Cathedral as he held the wounded and heartsick Sydney. /I saw his soul…as a child. A child no different than this boy./ He inhaled sharply, having suddenly come across a deep understanding. /You bore this burden all your life. How you must have suffered. The pain of duty—of isolation. The pain of the innocent, damned by their faith./ Briefly, he closed his eyes. /Sydney, I have misjudged you. Forgive me./

He reached out once more, running his fingers through the young blonde's thin hair. "Worry not for me, Merlose. I…am beginning to understand." He nodded to himself, assuring. "Yes, I understand. Sydney did not give me this power so that I would use it, nor so that it would remain unused." Joshua cocked his head to the side quizzically, and Ashley smiled, reminded of his own son's curiosity. "My answers will come someday, when I am ready. But until then, I have a heavy burden. I will take it. I…am the one he chose, and I cannot regret what cannot be undone. I will not let it condemn me."

Merlose watched him, her eyes wide, trying to understand. "Agent Riot?"

"I am well." Only when Ashley spoke the words did he realize their truth. With a bit of a stiff groan he pushed to his feet, and helped the woman to stand as well. "Thank you, Callo Merlose, for your concern and your care. We are perhaps equal now?"

She blinked, clearly puzzled. But she smiled, nodded, and cleaned her face. "Yes, perhaps. Thank you for…understanding."

"Aye, the same. Now, I have but a small favor to ask. Would you take young Joshua back to the inn? Dawn is upon us, but I fear he has not had enough rest to make up the night. Keep him company for a while, that he might sleep some more."

Merlose smiled, though she knew he spoke as much for her benefit as for the boy's. "I will. I shall tend to Sydney as well, if he requires it."

"Much indebted. I will be gone only a short while." Ashley nodded to assure them of his well-being, and bid them well. "Tell him that I am well, and that we shall set off once I return."

"Aye." She hefted Joshua into her arms, who was already bearing the signs of sleepiness in his drooping eyelids. "Take care." And then they split off to their different errands, having found the peace they'd been hoping for.

Eyes Closed to the Sun--An Epilogue

Part 4

Sydney watched the sun blossom to the east from his windowsill perch. It had been some time since he'd been able to appreciate so simple an event as the birth of a new day. Had it always looked so beautiful? He did not remember.

Merlose and Joshua had arrived a short while ago. Both looked tired, and had returned to bed after making sure that he was well. So, Ashley is all right, now, he mused over the Inquisitor's words as he gazed out over the town. What mean he? Has he found his truth? I wonder….

"The game ends again, dear friend."

Sydney started, his head snapping upward at the sudden invasion of a voice upon his thoughts. He glanced about sharply. Merlose and the boy were the only others in the room, and the street below was bare—who had spoken? At last he reached within himself, and there found the deep tones of the intruder: a voice within his mind. A…memory? But from what?

The door opened suddenly. Sydney did not even flinch, as he knew the man's identity simply by the sound of his footsteps. But when he glanced in that direction he realized that his comrade's countenance had changed, along with his wardrobe. Ashley was now clad in a new outfit of soft black leather, with pants that fed into a pair of thick boots, and a long coat that swished softly about his ankles as he walked.

"Ashley." Sydney regarded him with confusion. "What prompted this?"

Ashley reached into a large bag that he was carrying with him, and removed another article of clothing: a hooded coat made of what looked like fine wool. He tossed the bag aside, and stepped toward Sydney. His voice was soft as to not disturb their sleeping companions. "The weather is growing chill," he said, handing the coat over. "You were cold, when I left."

Sydney looked the garment over appraisingly, genuinely surprised and somewhat touched by the man's concern. Then he frowned. "This is a woman's coat."

"Aye. My apologies, but there was little selection at this hour. Moreover, I hoped to throw off any witnesses we create along our path back to Graylands." He paused. "How fares your injury?"

"I am well." He turned, so that his legs hung together inside the room, and switched his sheet binding for the coat. It weighed only lightly on his shoulders, which he appreciated. "The hurt is already subsiding," he added pointedly.

Ashley straightened just barely. "So, you knew."

"Not at first. You hide your talent well—it would seem you have an instinct for it." He raised his head to meet Ashley's eyes, and faltered somewhat. They looked…pure. The once dark and closed irises, though still quite reserved, shone with a new kind of light in them. He thought briefly that he had mistaken it for the dawn beams, but when he reached out tentatively with his power, he could feel the change. There was knowledge in that gaze, in his posture and in his firm tone of voice.

Sydney gave no outward indication that he had noticed. He only lifted his chin and asked, "So, what have you discovered?"

Ashley regarded him silently for a moment, trying to gauge his true thoughts. Sydney had the feeling that he was being easily read—he was anxious to hear what his prodigy had been able to accomplish. At the same time, he was also genuinely concerned for the man's well-being. "Nothing of merit," Ashley admitted at last. "My mind runs only in circles. I cannot reach any conclusions."

Sydney sighed faintly in disappointment. "I…am truly sorry, then. I would that I could assist you." I wish that I…that I could release you from pain. From all of it. No man should suffer as we have, Ashley. He licked the insides of his lips, watching the man that stood before him. He was at a loss for words, now. He knew that he should apologize once more—that no profession of guilt would ever be enough for his selfishness.

That will not help him now. He does not need to hear that from me again; he understands. He felt a twinge of hope within him. He does not blame me. The anger I saw is gone now. He understands.

Sydney's eyes were drawn suddenly to the charm hanging from Ashley's neck. He had never needed to wonder at its origin; the symbol's owner was etched deep into them both, now. Absently, almost unconsciously, he reached for it. Its bearer did not flinch or recoil as the metal fingers lifted it an inch off his chest. "But I can tell you thus," Sydney said quietly. "This pendant you wear, this rood—there is much feeling in it. Feeling for you. It…loves you, Ashley." When those words tumbled from his lips they spread a tremor through his spine, like a stream of cold water across his burning skin. "It protects your very heart, even from me…."

Ashley did not respond, whatever he might have been thinking. Sydney replaced the icon. But even then he did not remove his hand; his cold steel talons splayed across Ashley's chest, lying very still. For a moment he willed that his long since deadened limbs regain their function, to convey to him the warmth and strength of that place above the man's heart.

He has courage. Here, he keeps it. He cherishes it, as he cherished the bearer of this rood. Sydney refused to break his contact with the man's eyes, even as he could not read their depths. He was searching—for what, he did not know. Perhaps for the soul mate his prophecy had promised him. Sydney's own eyes were filled with regret then, which he dare not try to dam. He wanted his raw emotion to be seen for once.

Ashley's silent expression did not change. With slow movements he removed the hand from his chest, returning it to its master. Sydney did not protest and lowered his head. I was foolish to believe that he could understand me. Could trust me.

A hand touched the top of his head. The fingers were callused and worn, but gentle, sliding through his hair as one might comfort a young child. It was a small gesture, but one that conveyed emotion such as Sydney had long since forgotten. "It must have been hard." The words Ashley spoke penetrated him deeply. "You must have suffered."

Sydney gulped, and found that he could not speak. His throat was suddenly tight and without function; his fingers curled and relaxed around the windowsill. The truth of those short phrases was stated clearly in the trembling of his limbs. "Aye," he was just able to whisper, nodding faintly.

"You waited for me a long time."

He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. Why do I feel so weak? He was upset and angry with himself for his own vagaries of behavior. I am not so unaccustomed to human touch. I am not so easy to move. "Aye."

Ashley cupped the man's face in the palm of his hand, lifting it so that their gazes could meet again. "You must have been tired. And afraid."

Sydney stared up at him, his eyes wide, his body shaking. Ashley was watching him also, though his expression was sure and still. His lips were arranged in a delicate, grim smile. It was a look of patience and acceptance, like that of a kind father that consoles his son after a nightmare. And though Sydney was comforted by it, by the tenderness of so paternal a gesture, he suddenly began to feel small and fragile. Waiting for that hand upon his cheek had been the only thing holding him upright all along. He closed his eyes and turned his face into the touch, a deep sigh emptying from his shuddering lungs. "Aye."

They stayed that way for several moments more, unmoving and without words. At last Sydney opened his eyes when he realized that moisture was seeping through their lids and onto his cheek—and Ashley's hand. I…cry? His lips parted to speak, though he had nothing to say. He straightened; Ashley recoiled. For I…to have lived so long, and done so much, to shed tears after such simple statements of truth…as if I had never heard truth before….

Sydney used the thick collar of his new coat to wipe his eyes and face, as his companion waited patiently before him. I have never slept alone, his mind whispered as he struggled to compose himself once more. There was always a willing body, one that sought to prove their devotion. But…I have always been strong. I have always protected them from the world, from the tyrants that would do us harm. Never have I…. He took in a deep breath and pushed to his feet, forcing stability into his legs that they may hold him upright once more. No one has ever made me feel so weak. It was never I that received that comfort.

Ashley did not question his well-being or even comment of the strange events that had taken place between them. "I still have preparations to make," he said. "Rest a while longer. I will return to fetch you all once I am ready."

Sydney nodded. "Certainly." He understands my pain—he allowed me to be weak, if only for a moment.

"Take your rest well—our lessons will begin once we are underway." He started towards the door.

The cultist stared after him, frowning with bewilderment. "Lessons?" he echoed.

"Teachings of the Dark," he replied coolly. "I have much to learn, if I am to be your true successor, Sydney." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I trust you to teach me well."

To this he smiled, regaining his old spirit once more. A sly grin spread across his thin lips. "From prey to preacher, is it then?"

Ashley's eyes thinned with dull amusement, which caused Sydney's grin to widen. "Perhaps. I'll be not long." And then he left, closing the door softly behind him.

Sydney smiled to himself, and glanced once more at the sun rising beyond the hills. And perhaps, several more dawns of this sort await me. I believed my savior to be the one that would grant me peace through silence and release. Instead, he showed me warmth, and hope. All that I fought for was not in vain. He inhaled deeply, and released the morning air within a satisfied sigh. Thank you, Ashley Riot. I was not false. He found a comfortable position on the bed once more and closed his eyes, even knowing he would not sleep. He was already formulating a plan for the day that lay ahead.

--------

Ashley took his time preparing for the journey. After the cost of the inn room, the new clothing, and provisions for the four of them, he had little left to use in the way of transportation. A carriage would attract too much attention, and renting horses would require one of the stable guides accompanying them to be sure that the animals were returned. As Sydney was a reported criminal, this was unacceptable. It would have been easy to state that Sydney was a prisoner of the two VKP agents, but that sort of news would circulate quickly through a small town such as Bevllou. If those rumors reached the Grand Steward an escort would most likely be sent. Moreover, if Ashley never returned it would be assumed that some foul play was being conducted. In any case, Ashley hoped to draw as little attention to themselves as possible while he decided on a course of action.

In the end, he settled for purchasing a pair of chocobos from a small farm on the town's outskirts. The large, gentle birds had lost popularity over the decades as mounts, guaranteeing him a fair price. Though horses would have been faster he was satisfied; the pair he selected had sturdy, three-toed feet and intelligent-seeming eyes. They would do well.

After helping himself to some of the food he'd bought, Ashley returned to the inn and roused his travel partners. Though Sydney regarded the choice of transportation with a doubtful expression, Joshua was beaming. He reached out his hand to the first bird, which sniffed at him curiously. He giggled and scrambled back to Merlose's side.

Ashley smiled faintly at him. He thought perhaps that he should have felt some regret, faced with this boy that reminded him so much of Marco. Strangely, having Joshua calmed him. The boy's kindness to him the night before had felt like forgiveness, which his weary heart drank of fully.

"Sydney, you ride with Agent Merlose," Ashley instructed. "I'll ride with the boy." When he noticed Merlose's uneasy expression he added, "To keep our weight more evenly distributed. These chocobos have had little experience with long distance riding, and I alone will be enough of a burden for one."

Merlose was still frowning, but she pulled herself into the saddle of the first bird just the same. She even lent Sydney her hand so that he could join her more easily. Ashley lifted Joshua onto the second and mounted behind him. After making sure they were all settled, he led the way out of the town, following a dusty path into the forest.

"You said long distance," Merlose questioned abruptly, just as they had entered the woods. "Our destination is but a day's journey from here."

"Our destination has changed," Ashley replied calmly.

"Where do you take us, then?"

"To Albren." Albren was another small town to the west of Graylands, several hours of travel away even by carriage.

Merlose frowned, clearly not understanding the purpose behind his decision. Sydney, however, caught on. "You intend to circle the city."

Ashley nodded. "We will not return to Graylands until a plan has been made. In the meantime, we must be wary of the VKP's spies--more Inquisitors shall be sent, I imagine. We may not be able to stay in one place for long."

"Agent Riot," Merlose rejoined, "I cannot be gone for very long without them noticing. And once they notice they will suspect."

"Aye. From Albren, you and Joshua shall return alone."

"But--"

"On this issue I will not be swayed," he interrupted sternly. He fixed her with a firm eye. "You and the boy will return, as if we had never met after the city's collapse. You will be well met and give your report of all you know. By the time it is known that Sydney and I yet live, we will have come up with a course of action."

Thoughtfully, Sydney added, "It would be best to listen to his advice. If you tarry with us long, you will be made a rogue yourself. And you must look after the boy."

Merlose glanced at Joshua, who was gently patting the chocobo's head, not paying attention to them. She then looked to Ashley, who was able to interpret her gaze well enough. If Sydney is going to tell Joshua that they are brothers, then he shall do so. It is not our concern. She seemed to understand the look he gave her, and turned her attention forward once more, remaining silent.

Ashley shifted, collecting his thoughts. "Now, Sydney," he began directly. "I trust you are well enough prepared to begin our lessons?"

"If you so wish." The cultist raised a slender eyebrow. "That is, if you are satisfied with our present audience." He nodded toward Merlose.

"Even having heard your instructions," Ashley pointed out, "could she execute them?"

Merlose frowned at his obvious opinion of her abilities, but Sydney hummed thoughtfully. "No, I suppose not. But she will quickly learn what you are capable of."

"If you're thinking that I would report to—" Merlose quickly began to defend herself.

"There's no need for that," Ashley interjected. "By the time we progress to such important matters, she and the boy will be gone. Besides," he added for her benefit, "she would not tell."

She stared at him, surprised by the unusual show of faith. He merely nodded in affirmation. After last night, he felt a mysterious kind of affection for the younger agent. Had it not been for her misguided advances, he would not have reached the resolve within himself. "In any case," he continued a bit awkwardly beneath her appreciative gaze, "there is one question I would like settled before we begin. About my memories."

Sydney's expression sobered. "Ashley, you know my answer well enough."

"I am not searching for the absolute. I merely wish to ask how it is possible that I have these memories." He raised his head slightly, gazing up at the clear sky that resembled one he knew so well. "Both truths…are as real to me as that sky. If one or both are lies, how did they come to be?"

Sydney frowned as he pondered the question. Ashley and Merlose waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts. "Several possibilities exist," he concluded.

"I would hear them all, then."

"I expected as much." The cultist shifted on his mount--clearly he was unused to chocobo riding. "When I first touched your soul I reached your original memory very quickly. Leá Monde has a habit for curiosity, you see--she draws out the whispers within the minds of her inhabitants. Lays her wounds to the bone, so to speak."

"Is that why your powers are so amplified in the city?" asked Merlose. "The city opens our pages, and you merely flip through them."

"Aye, very much as you say. However, as Ashley journeyed deeper into my labyrinth I began to hear more voices--a change in the whispers," he continued. "Which led to my conclusion of VKP intervention."

Ashley pursed his lips into a straight line as he recalled that event in the forest clearing. In the aftermath he had fought carelessly--his mind had been in disarray from the horrible visions he'd witnessed. "And Rosencrantz corroborated that story," he murmured.

"There are several explanations." Sydney counted them off on his slender claws. "First: the memory of your family was created by the VKP, as Rosencrantz and I deduced. Second: the memory of you killing the innocent family was a fabrication, created either by Rosencrantz or the city itself. Though I do not believe Rosencrantz to have been capable of fooling even I."

"Created by the city, then?" Merlose's brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of the claim. "All this talk of a city with thoughts. Is it possible?"

"Aye, I believe so," Ashley rejoined as Sydney chuckled faintly in amusement. "Sometimes, I could hear it, as Sydney claims to. Every room and street in that place remembered the scenes played out upon them. The city has its own memories."

Sydney's voice took on an almost nostalgic air. "The walls speak of days past, gossiping among themselves like a flock of senile old men. Each soul has left its mark upon them." He paused, looking Ashley over. "It may even be possible that one such soul has resided in you, Ashley. You entered the city as a man without a soul--Leá Monde prefers her dead to dance, 'ere the souls rot. You may have been mistaken for a corpse, and was filled."

The Riskbreaker didn't approve of such an analogy, and proved this with a sour look. "Were I possessed, could such a thing escape your attention?"

"It is not an impossibility to fool the master, on occasion."

The group fell silent momentarily, considering all that had been said. Merlose was the first to speak. "Even if that were so, how would you determine which memory was the phantom, and which true? Could you exorcize the ghost?"

But Sydney wasn't listening, caught in his own thoughts. He glanced up sharply when Ashley called his name. "Pardon?"

"Exorcism," Merlose repeated. "Could you cure Ashley?"

"I'm not so convinced the city is at fault here," he said distractedly. "There…is something more I neglected to report. Something the dearly departed commander said to me."

"You mean Guildenstern?" Ashley said curiously.

"Aye. Just before he…relieved me of my burden." His shoulders rotated, and for a moment his eyes grew dark with the memory of that pain. "I retained but half of my senses at the time, and I only remembered until early this morning." He looked at Ashley then, with a kind of penetrating, meaningful look that was almost unsettling in its intensity. "He said that this was not the first time he had 'won the game,' and called me by a name other than my own."

Ashley's straightened, his senses suddenly focusing. He couldn't help but glance about, as his skin was prickling with the weight of many pairs of anxious eyes. Sydney's words raised a peculiar apprehension in him; Merlose must have felt the same, as she was chewing her lip. Joshua had also grown still, though whether he had grown bored of the chocobo or was affected by the declaration was undeterminable.

"Can you provide an explanation for this?" Ashley asked quietly, feeling oddly disturbed. "You had not met him previously, had you?"

"As the head of the Crimson Blades, twas only natural that our paths crossed now and again," Sydney replied with a vague wave of his hand. "I have always proven too clever a quarry for him, as with his predecessor. However." His voice lowered suspensefully; Ashley wondered how much of his attitude was merely theatrical. "When he spoke those words within the cathedral, I felt something very profound. I can think of no words to describe it. But they remained in me, hauntingly, and they are with me now. I remember them whenever I look at you."

Ashley stared back at him, still uneasy. Carefully, so as to remain unnoticed, he reached out with his gift. Every time he used it, he felt his mind reacting more quickly to his silent commands. Just as Sydney had described, he quickly came upon the voice, rumbling like a wolf's growl.

"The game ends again, dear friend."

He frowned, and as he puzzled over this new mystery, another voice surfaced--he'd called upon it without even thinking.

"I felt something very profound. It was the first time I feared not for my life, but for my soul."

Ashley broke the connection with a shake of his head. Meeting again…for the first time. Guildenstern knew something we didn't. As I saw Sydney and myself this night past, engaging in a conversation we could not have shared…. Is there some chapter of life we are all missing? He glanced up at his group, taking in Merlose's wide, curious eyes, Sydney's lips twisted in a grim smile, and Joshua, who had returned to patting the chocobo's crown feathers. I feel as if there is someone here, watching us, expecting something of us. This strange bond I have with Agent Merlose…was I not bound to Guildenstern's lady as well? As Sydney seems bound to Guildenstern, and Rosencrantz to us both….

"I fail to see what connection you are implying," Ashley said abruptly. "What has this to do with me?"

Sydney's expression was calm, but also thoughtful--he had been thinking the same. "Perhaps a great deal, perhaps not. But it is possible that both your truths are valid. There may very well be some common past we all share, merely forgotten."

Joshua yawned, interrupting the seriousness of the discussion. Ashley didn't mind, as he was somewhat grateful for the break of tension. Something within him stirred as the boy stretched and leaned against him. It had been a long time since he'd felt another body this close, especially one so small, and he welcomed it. Joshua wriggled sleepily before letting his eyelids drift shut in slumber.

Sydney smiled fondly at the boy, but did not speak. A glance shared with Ashley decided the end of the conversation for now. Being careful not to disturb the child whose pillow he served as, Ashley detached the bag of rations and handed it to Sydney. "Eat up. They're won't be any more until we reach Albren."

Eyes Closed to the Sun--An Epilogue

Part 5

Late that evening, the group shared their first and last proper meal as a whole. Merlose ate silently, her head lowered, contemplating the separation that was about to take place. Beside her, Joshua was eating as quickly as his young manners would allow. Sydney kept the hood of his coat raised to avoid any curious stares from the men at the small tavern, and Ashley spoke to them all amiably, drawing their short companionship to a close. "Joshua will be returned to his father the Duke at the Secondary Manor. Merlose will return to the VKP with her report." He stared at her across the table. "Have you prepared?"

"Aye, well enough," she replied a bit sullenly, moving her spoon about the soup bowl.

"Do not look so disheartened," said Sydney. "You did not miss us before we met, did you?"

Merlose raised her eyes to him with a look of annoyance. She sighed. "You know I will worry about you pair. Staying hidden from the Grand Steward will not be an easy task."

"You forget our talents already, dear lady. Have more faith."

"There's no need for concern," added Ashley. "We will do well enough. I'm more concerned with Sydney's teachings."

The cultist snorted in amusement. "Yes, as you should be; we have much to do. You must learn to focus your Heart-Seeking, Foresight, Hindsight, Scrying, Willing, Teleporting, Summoning--" He paused, chuckling at the displeased expression his company wore. "Do not fret--you already have all the ability you'll ever need. It merely needs taming."

"Yes, I understand."

The four finished dinner and then moved outside. "There is a small caravan of travelers headed for Graylands by cart tonight, and I've arranged for you to accompany them," Ashley told Merlose as they ventured out into the darkened streets. "They are meeting on the town's eastern-most border. You'll be back within an hour, and the VKP station there will return you to headquarters."

"I wish we did not have to part under such circumstances," she replied. "Agent Riot…there are still so many questions I have."

"Aye. Hopefully, if we meet again, I shall be able to answer them." He paused, as Joshua had taken hold of his coat and was tugging it shyly. With a hint of a smile he knelt down to the boy's level and gazed at him questioningly. "Yes?"

"Mr. Riot, Sir," Joshua said with faltering speech. "Are you leaving?"

Merlose frowned at the boy thoughtfully; the expression told Ashley that Joshua was not behaving as she would have thought he should. Ashley ignored her concern for the time being. "Aye, Joshua. You will be returned to your father."

The child stared at him expectantly, as if waiting for something more. His blue-eyed gaze wandered from the Riskbreaker to Sydney, and back. "Is Mr. Sydney going with you?"

"Aye. You need not worry--mind your father and yourself from now on." On an impulse Ashley scooped the boy up in one arm, as he had once done with his son. The familiarity of the gesture caused him both nostalgia and grief. But when Joshua smiled, the later emotion was quickly banished. This boy will one day make a fine man, he thought to himself, looking the Duke's son over one last time. He has such a trusting, innocent soul.

"Yes, Sir."

Ashley sensed Sydney standing nearby, and turned toward him. "Have you any last words to your former prisoner?" he asked lightly. I wonder what he will do.

Sydney lifted his head, which was shadowed by the hood he still wore. He came forward with smooth strides. "Do not think ill of me, young one," he said. "Was I not a caring host for you?"

Joshua regarded the cloaked man with the same ever-trusting frankness. "Yes."

He smiled, but the expression was not without remorse. "Commend me to your father, little Bardorba. Good luck be with you."

To the surprise of the three adults, Joshua returned his smile, and in clear, forthright tone stated, "And may good fortune follow you as well, Sir."

A moment of bewildered silence followed, as the oddity of Joshua's maturity left its mark upon them. Ashley was especially puzzled, and nearly forgot the age of the boy he carried. The words struck him in a way he hadn't encountered before; he grinned, and then found himself chucking in good humor.

Sydney and Merlose stared at him as if fearing for his health--neither had any memory of the Riskbreaker's voice lifted in such merriment. Ashley himself couldn't have explained the feeling that came over him. His throat was even a bit irritated at having to produce the sound that had for so long been unknown to it. His face must have been an amusing sight, as a moment later Sydney was laughing, and Joshua giggled. Merlose stared at them, clearly imagining that they had all taken leave of their senses.

Ashley released the rest of his gentle laughter through a deep exhalation. "You are quite a boy, Joshua," he declared, handing him over to Merlose. "Keep that spirit, and you will be well."

Merlose hefted the boy's weight in her arms. "And you are quite the surprise, Agent Riot. To be so affected by him." Despite her words she seemed please by his mirth.

Ashley reminded himself of her tale from earlier that morning, and smiled slightly. He wanted her to part knowing that she had, in some small way, helped him. And she had--she, the boy, and even Sydney have given him a new light. Whatever his past may be, the future that lay ahead was infinitely more important. As long as he continued on, the souls lost in his memory would not be in vain.

"Merlose, take care of yourself," Ashley told her. "If Sydney is right and fate did draw us all together presently, it may do so again. Be well."

She nodded, and replied, "And the same to you both." After one last lingering look over the two men she turned and headed down the street with Joshua in tow, towards the eastern border.

Ashley watched them disappear from sight. "You did not tell him," he commented. "Will he ever know who you are to him?"

"It is not necessary that he know," Sydney replied without hesitation. "Sometimes, truth is better left in its place."

Ashley nodded, and lifted his head slightly. "Aye. Sometimes, it is better that way."

The week passed at an even pace, slipping effortlessly from one day into the next. Ashley and Sydney traveled by chocobo each morning to a new town, and there rested the rest of the day and through the night. They spent every waking hour conversing or practicing with Ashley's expanding skills. The former Riskbreaker was an eager student; he followed Sydney's instructions perfectly, and did not protest even when it was necessary to test his abilities on hapless town members. He did not attempt any spells of a cruel nature, however: he tricked storeowners into believing he was some important town official in order to gain them a free meal, and "willed" a group of young mischief-makers into believing that they were covered in Snowflies. On several occasions he was even convinced to attempt using his powers on Sydney, with varying degrees of success.

Late one night, the men were seated in a deserted corner of the local tavern in the town of Verlo. Earlier in the evening Ashley had come upon a pair of VKP Inquisitors--both would return to their duties with no memory of ever encountering the missing agent. The information their memories contained, however, would prove its worth to Ashley. He now had much to think about.

"So, it is assumed that we are both dead," Sydney surmised. He drank from his glass of the establishment's finest wine--compliments of the perfectly "willing" owner. "Do the VKP never assume their mission failed?"

"Never," Ashley replied instantly. He had settled for a milder drink. "Though the likelihood of an agent dying is very substantial, the mission is always carried out to it's fullest. If an agent does not return from a mission, they are either completing the investigation or dead. Either way, the assignment is considered finished."

Sydney's eyebrows rose appreciatively. "Quite some confidence they have in you all."

"Within a group as selective as the Riskbreakers, it's necessary." He lifted his head from his glass. "We could easily disappear, Sydney."

"Aye, that we could," Sydney murmured with a strange, twisted smile on his lips. The face that held them was even paler than Ashley remembered, looking cold and faded amidst the tavern's candlelight. "But I fear there are vastly more important matters afoot than our tiny lives, Ashley. I have done much pondering this past week."

"I could tell," Ashley replied. "You are worried about the Cardinal."

The cultist smirked. "I suppose I should have grown accustomed to you plucking the thoughts from my brain by now. Yes, the Cardinal is what worries me." He met his comrade's gaze directly. "Though only a few of his men were very talented with the Dark, they drew from a wellspring other than Leá Monde. Through this power Guildenstern's skill was nearly a match for my own--within my own city, even." He sipped from his glass. "If such a wellspring exists elsewhere in this world, it must be discovered and tamed. The Dark must not be manipulated by anyone."

Ashley pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps that shall be my first task, as a Rood Bearer."

"Aye, Friend. There is only you…."

Again Ashley paused, looking the blond man over. "You are weary," he noted, mostly to himself. "Did I not know better, I would assume your death lay nigh."

Sydney blinked slowly. "You are more correct in your assumption than you know. But let us not speak of such things." He straightened in his chair with some effort. "Seeking out the Cardinal and his 'talented' men is not a viable option, I fear," he continued in a stronger tone. "They will be well hidden among their ranks. Though I have no doubts that Guildenstern was the most powerful of their arsenal, he may have had pupils on which to teach his art. You'd best draw them to you."

"Reveal myself." Ashley did not look pleased with his suggestion. "If it is known that I now bear the Blood Sin, they will seek me. To be used or disposed of."

"Precisely. You may gain some valued information by falsifying a trust."

He frowned, still reluctant but also convinced of the man's reasoning. "That may be." His lips quirked in wry amusement. "I am now the hart, I suppose."

"That you are," Sydney chuckled, and he finished his drink. "And I have already devised the symbol of your resurrection, sir Riot. All I need is to arrange it with my father, the Duke."

His voice is hollow today, beneath the laughter, Ashley thought grimly as Sydney ordered another drink. His breathing is shallow. His skin is cold and white. Do I already speak with a corpse? He is giving his life up even as he drinks his wine.

"Sydney," he spoke quietly, almost as a warning. "Have I finished my training by you?"

Sydney glanced at him curiously, but was forced to delay his response as the barmaid brought him his drink. "You have learned all my tricks and spells. You have read every nuance of my mind and spirit, heard the whispers of my past and even glimpsed my future. My path is set--I'll not be deterred now."

He speaks with such conviction for a walking dead. Ashley looked away, admitting to himself that he had already predicted his mentor's fate. He knew that there was nothing more for him to learn from Sydney. Still, the thought of not having the cultist's aid disturbed him. He had not yet explained all the workings of his own history--including the bizarre scene he'd witnessed in Bevllou. With both of them it would have been easier to unravel the mystery.

"Worry not, Ashley," Sydney said, drawing his attention back. "You will yet know your answers. They lie within you, not me."

"Aye." Ashley continued to watch him drink the red liquid, unable to repress a sudden, disquieting image. "You appear as if attempting to drink the blood back into your veins," he muttered distantly.

He paused, glancing at Ashley out of the corner of his eye. "My blood was bled from me long ago, friend. You know that."

Later that evening, long after the sun had set and its sister nestled in the heavens, Ashley and Sydney approached the capitol of Valendia. They had traveled the short distance in silence. Ashley had spent most of that time in meditation; his mind drifted through Sydney's, picking out the whispers from his past. It was in this way that he had learned best from Sydney during the week of his tutelage, thanks to the strange bond they shared. But now he wasn't searching for archaic spells or symbols--simply listening to the voices that spread through Sydney's elaborate past. He was searching for clues.

"But we shall still talk this way, shan't we?"

Ashley sighed, focusing himself once more on reality. They had reached the edge of the city, and it would be necessary to abandon their chocobos to prevent gathering attention. He dismounted, and then aided Sydney in doing so as well. The chocobos were tethered to a nearby tree, and the two men entered Graylands' borders. Ashley helped his comrade along, as the man had lost much of his strength in opening his mind so completely. They encountered several guardsmen along the way, to which Ashley effortlessly made them invisible. Their short journey to the manor was thus uninterrupted.

Now they stood, side by side, staring up at the tall stone walls surrounding Duke Bardorba's estate. Sydney's face was arranged in an expression of peace and acceptance; his protégé, however, was far less at ease. Ashley was wondering at his own mysterious ability to change perspective in such a relatively short time--from viewing Sydney as another nuisance in a mission, to despising him for his false visions and cursed truth, and now trusting and depending on him. The week they shared, though nothing more than a string of lessons and confounding mysterious, had forced him to honestly believe in someone other than himself. He had not done such a thing in many years. And though previously he believed it inconceivable that he would care for this man as a friend, brother and teacher, now he did. No part of him would celebrate or even be relieved in the approaching death.

Sydney removed his hood and shook his hair free of it. "The time of parting is upon us," he murmured, smiling slightly. "Hardin, I neglected you in life. Now I join you." He collected himself. "Your apprenticeship has ended, Ashey. You have surpassed me, and will fare well, I so believe."

"Your last concerns in this life should not be for me," Ashley replied.

He chuckled with bittersweet humor. "Aye, as I shall take them with me to the next." He extended his hand, which Ashley accepted and shook. "I'll not bore you with sentiment. But be well, and Gods be willing, I'll not see you for a long time."

"Aye. Good fortune be with you."

"And may good fortune follow you as well, sir." Sydney laughed as he began to move away. "Farewell, Ashley Riot."

"Sydney," Ashley halted him. His jaw worked uncertainly as a final question burned in his mind. Though he'd heard the explanations before, and understood well enough, he had to ask one more time. "Why did you choose me?"

The cultist straightened, his body standing tall and still amidst the moonlight that was as pale as his skin. He glanced over his shoulder, and answered simply, "Because I knew you would remember me." And without another word he turned, making his way toward the manor gates.

Ashley released his breath in a deep sigh as Sydney, using the Riskbreaker's face, disguised his visage to the guards. He watched until the man was out of sight, and even then stayed, following Sydney's progress with his scrying talent. There was no need--he knew that the task would be accomplished, and witnessing it would give him no greater peace of mind. When Sydney reached his father's quarters Ashley discreetly ceased his vigil: this last moment of father and son was not for him. He waited, not fidgeting even as the minutes lapsed.

A sharp tingling sensation filled through Ashley's chest, though it was quickly extinguished. In its place rose a feeling of release, and blessed peace. He knew then that Sydney had passed on--not into death, but the land he had so fought to save from ruin. The man's spirit would not fade; Ashley gained some comfort, knowing that he would carry that legacy upon his back.

"Who walks there at this hour?" the gruff voice of a guard sounded behind him. "What is your business? Show your papers!"

Ashley didn't turn at first, gauging the man's capacity and skill. Carefully he twisted the guard's perception; when he faced the guard, the form of a woman took his place in the feeble-minded sentry. "Callo Merlose, VKP inquisitor," Ashley stated deliberately, showing off his nonexistent papers with a hand gesture.

The Watchman stuttered over a response. "M-my lady! I beg your forgiveness!"

How simple it is to twist man's mind. "It is no matter. You are merely doing your duty." Perhaps Sydney was right to depend on my morality.

"T-thank you, m'lady!" The sentry nodded respectively, and hurried away before he did something else to offend the superior officer.

Ashley paid him no mind, releasing the mind-binding spell that had created the illusion of Merlose. His boots made only the slightly sound as he departed from the manor outskirts. I am leaving, Sydney. Fare thee well, friend. One last time he glanced back at the high walls, where already the servants were beginning to stir with the news of the their master's demise: Sydney's plot would function smoothly. Soon Valendia would be buzzing with the news of the rogue VKP agent who had slain a member of Parliament. And from there, Ashley's new duty would begin.

He continued on, passing through the moon-cast shadows of the night--into the east from whence the dawn would soon rise.

*End

Return

(stay tuned, folks! This was only the epilogue, after all ^_-. After a short break to work on other projects, I'm coming back to write the "body" story. Oh, and as always, let me know what you thought!)