"He must die."

"No!" It (for he refused to call whomever the voice came from he) laughed, that same laughter that now haunted him night after night.

"You fight me, but it is a loosing battle. You cannot win. Soon your soul will be mine."

"That won't happen. I won't let it." It laughed again.

"Foolish boy." Scorn was evident in its voice. "You don't have a choice in the matter." He fought desperately against the dark presence in his mind. "You are mine to command, mine to mold.

"They know. They know you are jealous of him. They know you want what he has. They see through your lies like a child sees through logic. They plot against you. They laugh at you behind your back. Especially her. She laughs the loudest. Silence her. Silence them all."

"No!" He screamed. The only response was more of an unintelligible hissing rather than an actual word.

"Yes."



He was in the nothingness again. He went there every night. They spoke to him there. They taught him what he needed to know.

'It is time.' The voices always startled him. He often wondered who they were. They always spoke the same words but slightly out of synch, as if they were echoing each other.

"What has?" He wasn't very hopeful of getting a clear answer. They might be very good teachers, but he was certain they purposefully set out to confuse him.

'The prophecy.'

"What prophecy?" Silence answered him. When he was beginning to think the voices had left him for the night they spoke.

'Minhara.' They seemed to sense his confusion even before he spoke. 'Saironia.'

"I don't understand."

'Saironia.' He called out again, but they would not answer. Silence was his only response.