The darkness called to him.

It wanted him.

And the owner of the darkness needed him.

He had nowhere to run, no place to hide.

As he watched from the bottom of the dais that bore a mighty throne, fit for three people to

sit upon, Eyroon, the heiress of Torak, came out from behind the throne and smiled down at

him with her murky-deep eyes.

He kneeled before the empty throne in chains and only a loincloth that covered him. His hair

was longer then he remembered, for now it was a little past his bulky shoulders, he was paler,

and his hands were smooth as though he had never used then in his knightly work-outs with

he hadn't had that awful dream of Zandramas.

Was it even a dream?

He still couldn't figure that out.

"Why am I kneeling?" Durain questioned the beautiful maiden.

She raised an eyebrow and looked around.

The hall they were in was dim, and empty, and every word they uttered echoed as though

they had screamed them. There were no windows, no light from the sun. They were in

complete darkness other then the torches clinging to the walls.

"You do not know who is coming?" She replied with an answer.

He shivered in thought of who it might be.

"Don't fear him, Beldurain." Eyroon said quietly. Her barely murmured phrase echoed

clearly in the hall, and the soft shuffle of her slippers, hidden under her gown, vibrated

with her voice as she slowly walked down the dais.

Surprised by her calling him this, he gazed at her with his brown eyes that shone like two

brown suns from the reflection of a torch nearby.

"You are a sorcerer-are you not?"

"Y-yes." He replied.

Eyroon smiled, "Good," She said.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I need to know these things, it is my duty."

"What is your duty here? This is a hall but I don't remember walking here. Where is here

anyways?"

Clicking her tongue, she muttered, "Too many questions, Beldurain. But I will answer

them, for you need to know these things."

Drawing in a deep breath, she murmured, "It is my duty to find the Son, and here? Here

is. my father's realm. Belgarion truly believed he could kill a God who was not meant

to be born?" She chuckled dryly, then added almost to herself, "Torak never dies.Gods

don't die, Beldurain."

After a moment of silence, Durain questioned her, "What Son are you talking of-me?-

Because I'm Polgara's son?"

"I'm talking of the." She squinted her dark eyes at him, as though she were telling him

one of the greatest secrets in the world, "I'm on a search for the Son of Shadows."

"Son of Shadows? Who is that?"

"I believe it's you-although me father doesn't think so."

"What's the Son of Shadows?" His throat had tightened, and now he watched her with

wide fearful eyes.

"The Son of Shadows is the one that will forever be possessed by the Demon- "

"Enough will be enough Eyroon." Came a light voice that was tight with restrained anger.

Quickly looking over Durain, Eyroon's dark eyes blazed and she glared at the woman

behind Durain.

Durain, even though he hadn't turned to look at who it was that was behind him, he felt

heat bore into him, knowing that whoever it was, was staring into the back of his head

with hatred.

Looking over, Durain gazed upon the woman who had kidnapped his cousin Geran when

he had been an infant, and had stolen his soul in his dream.

Zandramas was exactly as Garion had said she looked.

Beautifully cold dark eyes looked right into his as her glowing skin captured every crease

in her forehead as the black robe she wore enhanced her skin, and helped darken her eyes

and hair.

"Polgara's son." Zandramas murmured, "Well.you look nothing like the witch."

Durain glared.

Zandramas chuckled loudly, "Well, well, well. you have her temper alright."

"I thought you were sent to be eaten by a demon forever." Durain retorted.

Fire spat out of her eyes, but she raised an eyebrow instead.

"I made a deal with the beast. In exchange for my soul, it gets the soul of a sorcerer born

with ancient blood.Belgarath's blood-I heard it's more.delicious."

Durain paled.

"Stop toying with him, Zandramas!" Eyroon roared from behind Durain. "Just deal with

him and hurry up."

Zandramas smiled that smile that seemed to be pasted upon her doll-like face.

Turning her dark life-less eyes on Durain, she murmured in thought, "Deal with him."

And the glowing little sparks under her skin buzzed with energy, moving faster with her

excitement of 'dealing with him'. Desperate, Durain looked over his shoulder at Eyroon,

but what he received was nothing he expected.

"I'll see you again Beldurain." But as she said this, her voice murmured in his head,

"Stay away from the light for as long as you can.for your life depends on it."

Looking back towards Zandramas, his eyes grew wide as he saw black whipping smoke

pour out of Zandramas' mouth that reached towards him, enveloping him in his deepest

fears.

The smoke grasped him, tightening around him as a snake does to its prey, and cried out

in his pain and horror and distantly heard the rattle of his chains as they bit into his skin,

demanding him to relent to the shadows.

He felt himself truly die now as the darkness took him.

************************************************************************

"He's coming to see you!"

"He'll make the moon break under his anger."

"Hide dear Belcoro."

"Coro.heh."

These voices.voices he knew, yet didn't, rang through his head in a whirlpool as he lay

in his wife's arms.

"He's coming."

"Coming."

"He hunger's for life again-do you not feel it?"

"For you."

"Life is worth the death of an innocent sacrifice."

"Coro.shall you give us your daughter for your brother?"

"No." Coro murmured in reply, half asleep.

A distant knocking drew him away from the shadowy visions-pictures that these

pictures allowed him to see.

At the mention of 'brother' Durain's face, exactly like his, flashed into his mind.

Durain's face was smiling first, but as the voices became incoherent, he saw his infant

daughter, Aranda, his wife Ulthanis, and then slowly, he witnessed Durain's face cease to

smile.

The smiling mouth opened in a shriek of terror as his twin brother's face began to decay,

and with his brothers soundless scream, Coro screamed, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping

the sight in his mind will vanish.

"Durain!" Coro wept.

The knocking grew louder, and he awoke in a fit of sweats.

Ulthanis was pacing the floor with Durnik shaking Coro from where he lay on his bed.

"I'm awake, father!" Coro cried.

Durnik backed away, breathing hard.

Polgara stood in the doorway, holding the crying infant Aranda.

"What is it?" Durnik, his simple father, questioned.

"Nothing," Coro replied.

"Don't lie! It was something!-you were screaming like you were being ripped apart!"

Ulthanis, Coro's blond gorgeous wife shrieked, pointing a finger accusingly at him.

There was silence aside from Aranda's weak cries.

"It was Durain." Coro muttered, sitting up to lean against the wall their bed was pushed

to.

Polgara lowered her face to the baby, and avoided all eyes that were shot at her.

"What about Durain?" Ulthanis asked.

"I-I saw him screaming.and.and decaying."

"Oh!" Polgara tossed her head, and stormed out of the room.

Durnik looked away from Coro, "Did you have to say that?" And left the room to search

for his wife.

Ulthanis just stared at Coro in bewilderment.

Gazing away from her, Coro stood up and looked out the window and saw the hill on

which Durain had been buried in.

What was Durain trying to say to him?

Why were those voices warning him?

And what sacrifice were they talking of?

'In exchange for your daughter you'll get your brother'-what was that about?

If anything happened to Aranda.Coro would do anything to get revenge.

Anything.

But little did Coro know that that was exactly what the Dragon God wished him to

believe...