Thankyou Nicole for being such a faithful reader! Sorry this chapter took aaaages, but it's extra long, so I hope that suits! And grrrr to the italics which, again, aren't working. Sorry, I know those things don't have the same effect!
Obi-Wan awoke in a pool of sweat, hands stretched out in front of him as if to grasp the last traces of his dream. His shoulder throbbed, and he carefully massaged it, sitting up slowly, trying to gather his fragmented mind.
"Does it hurt much?"
Inwardly he started at the sound of Qui-Gon's voice, but there was no visible surprise, even in his nightmare-dazed state.
"I didn't realise you were awake," he admitted.
"No. It would seem you are…preoccupied."
Obi-Wan stiffened. "It's nothing."
"And I suppose it was nothing last night, and the previous one before that, and every other night that we've been here."
He closed his eyes briefly. He should have known he couldn't hide the dream from Qui-Gon. "It's just a dream."
"Is it?"
Obi-Wan sighed. "I really don't want to talk about this now."
A short pause, then "As you wish."
A tense silence.
"How's your shoulder."
"Sore." He hesitated. "It was amazing, wasn't it? How she healed me. Like a miracle."
"Yes," Qui-Gon's tone was distinctly dry. "A miracle."
Obi-Wan frowned. Was it his imagination, or did Qui-Gon seem more tense than usual. He could almost feel his Master's words, desperate to spill out, to be heard, yet something was holding him back.
After another alarmingly tense silence, Obi-Wan gave an excessively loud, fake yawn and turned over in his bed.
"Goodnight."
For a moment he thought Qui-Gon was going to ignore him, then he heard the words so soft they were almost whispered.
"Sleep well Padawan."
He closed his eyes, and tried to sooth his troubled mind, to cling to those whispered words that reminded him that no trouble, no danger was too great for him and his Master. That as long as they stood together, nothing could tear them apart.
***
This is tearing us apart.
Qui-Gon stared blankly into the darkness, fears roaming around his tired mind, images of Obi-Wan turning away form him, shutting him out.
It's happened before.
All at once he was back on Melida/Daan, watching as Obi-Wan handed over his lightsaber, letting Qui-Gon walk up the ramp of the star fighter without his beloved Padawan.
He did it for love then, too. A different kind of love maybe, but it was love all the same.
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the unexpected prickle of tears gathering behind the lids. He was not a man who succumbed often to his emotions, but where Obi-Wan was concerned, there seemed to be no way of holding back. The boy was everything to him. Everything. He didn't think he could bare to lose Obi-Wan again, to watch him walk away…
In sudden resolve he sat up, pushing away the dark thoughts. He didn't care what Shara said, he had to warn Obi-Wan of the danger. He couldn't just let him walk blindly into his own demise. He couldn't just stand there and do nothing.
"Obi-Wan."
Silence, except for the deep, even breathes of his Padawan, which reached him through the darkness of the night. So young, yet already wise in the ways of world. So much still to learn, to experience.
Pain tore at his heart, as he realised that he did not have the courage to destroy the boy's dreams, the boy's hopes. That he did not have the courage to warn him of the dangers ahead because he could not bear to see the pain on Obi-Wan's face, pain caused by him.
He would not sleep that night. He would spend every moment watching over his Padawan, enjoying the innocence that can only truly be found in sleep. And when the sun's rays crept through the curtains, lighting the boy's hair with morning highlights and rousing him from his slumber, Qui-Gon would be there.
***
The atmosphere in the lift was tense.
There should have been plenty of room, but the four Jedi seemed to be taking up twice as much space as usual, leaving each other gasping for fresh air and open spaces.
Leyana and Obi-Wan were avoiding eye contact, and standing as far away from each other as was possible in a five square foot space. It was clear to everyone that Qui-Gon hadn't slept well, and the blueish smudges under his eyes gave testimony to this suspicion. He kept shooting little glances at Shara, as if his bad night had been her fault, and she was pointedly ignoring him, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling, refusing, also, to meet Leyana's eyes.
The four occupants breathed audible sighs of relief as the lift reached the fifth floor with a gentle whoosh, and they scrambled out, desperate for the increasingly appealing space in the room beyond. It was a large room, very beautiful, with huge marble pillars bursting from the floor like whirlpools, twisting elegantly up to the ceiling, framing doors and enormous windows that offered views of brightly coloured gardens and deep blue seas.
Antonio Rechton had money, that was for sure.
Leyana glanced around, trying to take it all in with a neutral eye, but she couldn't help being overwhelmed by the sheer perfection of the place. Not only the room she was standing in but the whole house, positioned on the cliff edge, surrounded by lush orchards and startling flowers, every room so grand and so beautiful she felt as if she was entering the home of a mythical creature, too beautiful to be real, to perfect to exsist.
It certainly distracted her from the tensions between the Jedi. She and Obi-Wan could barely look at each other, Qui-Gon was grumpy and Shara was just acting plain weird. Leyana could only hope this didn't effect their meeting. She had a feeling Rechton played an important part in the whole thing, almost as if he was the key to unlocking the mystery.
If we can all stay cool and keep our tempers.
She smiled wryly. So much had already gone wrong for them on this mission, surely nothing else could complicate matters.
She was about to learn just how wrong she was.
***
Obi-Wan took in his surroundings, but was too distracted to be impressed. It bothered him that he and Leyana could barely look at each other. Their friendship, forged through barely a week, was already something he had come to value, and he missed the knowledge that Leyana was someone he could talk to, someone he could trust. And now he had to deal with Qui-Gon's odd behaviour, something unexpected and unappreciated. When Obi-Wan had woken that morning, he had found Qui-Gon awake, and watching him. When asked if everything was alright, the Master had just smiled vaguely. He hadn't mentioned a bad night, or any particular troubles which were plaguing him, or any concerns. It wasn't like Qui-Gon to let a personal matter interfere with a mission, but Obi-Wan could see that this was obviously the case. He didn't know if it was him, or Shara, or perhaps some news from the Temple.
If only he would talk to me.
Suddenly Obi-Wan felt thirteen again, shut out from his Master's thoughts, plans, everything. He knew this wasn't the case, that Qui-Gon had long ago brought down the barriers and let his Padawan in. But sometimes it was hard to forget those moments, the way he had felt in his darkest, most desperate times.
And that's how Xanatos got to you.
Yes, that was how Xanatos had got to him. How Qui-Gon's former apprentice had managed to lure Obi-Wan into danger, had almost succeeded in killing him, by planting a false seed of doubt in his mind.
It was pure irony that Obi-Wan's thoughts should be on Xanatos, so many years after his death, at that particular moment. Because when the door finally opened and someone walked in, Obi-Wan realised he was seeing a ghost.
***
Qui-Gon stared, heart pounding, at the figure in front of him, sure that it must be a dream. A nightmare, because the man standing before him was dead, Qui-Gon had watched him die with his own eyes, could still see the swirl of his black cape as it disintegrated into nothing in the acid waters. Could still remember those midnight blue eyes narrow in triumph, a split second before he jumped. Could still recall every tiny detail as his former apprentice finally found his ending.
But here he was, stood before Qui-Gon once again, still tormenting his former Master, even in death.
Xanatos strode forward, a smile on his handsome face, his black hair falling in silken locks to his shoulders.
"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. I hope you have been comfortable?" The voice was warm, polite, instantly likeable, but to Qui-Gon it sounded like a poison: deceiving, deadly.
Xanatos turned toward the Jedi Master, and Qui-Gon waited for the recognition, that snide little smile, the smugness in his eyes. But none came, only an extended hand and the words: "I am Antonio Rechton. You must be Master Qui-Gon Jinn."
Qui-Gon stared at that hand as if it was a deadly weapon. Did Xanatos really expect him to shake hands? To pretend they didn't know each other?
He felt Obi-Wan's presence beside him, tense, waiting for Qui-Gon's lead. But Qui-Gon was at a loss. Should he play Xanatos's game, bide his time and try to figure out his plan? Could he risk letting Xanatos win, risk letting him hurt Obi-Wan?
The tension in the room built rapidly, and the seconds ticked by as Xanatos's hand remained outstretched but untaken, untouched. Finally Shara stepped forward, shooting an angry glare in Qui-Gon's direction.
"I am Jedi Master Shara Estaan, and this is my apprentice, Leyana Raeimi."
Qui-Gon could feel her uncertainty as she said, "This is Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi."
But you already know that, don't you?His gaze drifted over Xanatos's familiar features; those deep, dark eyes, that wide taunting mouth, his pale, smooth cheeks-
Qui-Gon blinked in shock. That wasn't right. Where was the circle? The broken circle?
He could vividly remember the time that the circle was formed. It had been in the last battle, the final standoff, or so Qui-Gon had then thought. He did not know Xanatos would return in the future to once again wound him, a wound so deep it had almost cost Obi-Wan's life. He had not known, as he sliced the ring from Santos's father's finger, that it would become a symbol of pure evil. He had not known, as he watched the light fade from Crion's eyes, that it was not the end, that there would never really be an end, and Xanatos's memory would follow him from galaxy to galaxy, always there. He could still hear the hiss of searing flesh as Xanatos pressed the burning metal against his cheek, marking himself with the broken circle, a symbol which would, one day, be known throughout the universe as a ruthless corporation, interested only in greed and riches. A broken circle that would never again be whole, because Xanatos had decided he would rather die than allow Qui-Gon to make him the man he once was.
But where was that circle now? Where was that reminder now?
Qui-Gon heard a slight intake of breath, as Obi-Wan reached the same conclusion as himself.
This isn't Xanatos.
It wasn't just the missing circle, Qui-Gon realised. The air around this man was pure, there were no whisperings of the dark side, warnings of danger, as there had been with Xanatos. There was no evidence of the Force at all.
The realisation that this man was a stranger provoked a whirlwind of emotion inside the Jedi Master, the principle of which was relief. But Qui-Gon could detect something else, something he would never have expected to find.
He was disappointed.
***
Antonio Rechton surveyed the four Jedi through his midnight blue eyes, carefully taking in their appearances, noting how much each one was trying to hide, but still giving away.
The tallest, Qui-Gon Jinn, seemed relaxed in his chair, but Antonio had no doubt he was alert to everything going on in the room. The sharp, blue gaze took in things others didn't see, scratching below the surface. But there were troubles there, a sleepless night, a slightly haunted look. Concern. Concern over the boy beside him.
Obi-Wan Kenobi. A handsome young man, whose dedication to the Jedi would no doubt be tested, perhaps was being tested even now. Yes.
His eyes sought Leyana, and he smiled inwardly. Young Kenobi had already fallen in love, and with another Jedi no less. Their eyes continually darted towards each other, but they looked away at any actual contact.
Guilt?He looked at the fourth Jedi who sat tall in her chair, an almost regal air surrounding her pale skin. She had made a hard decision, he could see it in her eyes. She didn't know if what she was doing was right. Of Laketarian origin, he would have guessed, that smooth skin, those bright eyes. Her beauty was outstanding, although nothing compared to the girl next to her.
"I understand you have some questions you would like to ask me?" His voice was cool, calm, collected.
"Yes." It was the woman who spoke, her purple eyes searching his face.
Searching for dishonesty. For a murderer.
"How long have you lived on Seratina?"
It wasn't what he'd expected, and the question threw him. Why did they want to know about his past?
He smiled politely. "I'm sorry, I thought you were here about Marquis Thelos."
"We are, we're just trying to gather some background information."
He nodded, smiled again. "Well, I've grown up here. I was an orphan, you see, abandoned in Sera when I was just a baby. A Seratiniun couple took me in and raised me. It never felt like I was different. Seratina is my home."
"And so you decided to run for Governor."
"At the time of elections, there were threats against Seratina's natural environment from outside corporations. They wanted to use the open spaces to build factories, chalk mines, destroy the planet's natural beauty. They didn't tell the Seratiniuns this, of course, they showed them plans of parks, beautiful, exotic parks, but I discovered their real intentions, and exposed them to the people of Sera. I promised them I would protect their planet. And I have."
There was a slight defensiveness in his voice that he was sure the Jedi would notice, but she just nodded and asked, "Did you enjoy your time as Governor?"
He smiled. "Very much. I love Seratina with all my heart. I wanted the people of Sera to feel they had a Governor they could trust. I know it is said that all politicians are corrupt, but I wanted to show them it wasn't true."
"Then why did you resign?"
He sighed, and looked out of the window, across the vast ocean that sparkled in the sunlight. "My time was up," he said simply.
The Jedi was looking at him, suspicion written on her face. He would have to say more. "Things become stale, they need changing, to be kept fresh. I did not want my leadership to run dry, so I handed my role to Thelos."
"And now Thelos is dead."
He blanched at her frank tone. "Marquis Thelos was a great friend of mine. If you are planning on accusing me of murdering him, I suggest you do otherwise." His tone was tight with anger, and he forced himself to release the clenched fist, to calm his breathing. Anger would not help him right now.
"We are not accusing you of anything."
Qui-Gon Jinn's very voice seemed to initiate calm, and Antonio relaxed slightly at the older man's words. "We are simply trying to find out who killed him, and why. Do you know of any enemies Thelos had?"
Antonio's eyes widened in surprise. Was this Jedi stupid? "The animal protest groups. They hated Marquis. Couldn't bear the decision he'd made to test on the Teeltas."
"What about Crea Landoor?" asked the woman. "Is he another friend of yours?"
He glanced at her in surprise. "Well, yes. He was my advisor, we're still great friends."
"But is he not a prominent figure among these protest groups?"
He took on a slightly pained look. "Yes," he admitted heavily. "It is rather a sore point between us."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows slightly. "And why's that?"
"Because he is wrong!" Antonio burst out. "This medicine will save the planet, it will stop our people from dying. He doesn't have the right to decide over peoples lives!"
"Perhaps you do not have the right to decide over the lives of the Teeltas," Qui-Gon remarked quietly.
Antonio felt a slight flush stain his cheeks. "True," he conceded. "Yet I think this instance may be an exception."
Qui-Gon said nothing, only gazed thoughtfully across the room. After a moment, he spoke. "Do you think Crea Landoor is capable of murdering someone?"
"No. I know Crea. He couldn't do it, he wouldn't. He's got his wife to look out for. He wouldn't take the risk."
"Sometimes our judgement is clouded by personal feelings."
Antonio sighed with impatience. "Look, you asked me a question, I answered it. No, I don't think Crea is capable of killing someone."
"But he didn't like Thelos, did he?" asked Shara.
Antonio shifted slightly in his chair. "No," he admitted. "But I think this dislike was more to do with me than Marquis. Crea was angry with me for handing over my position, he didn't want me to go. I think he focused the blame on Marquis, because he was the one to step up."
"So that's why he resigned as Advisor? Because he was angry at you?"
"He gave me an ultimatum, a sort of 'if you go, I go' thing. I don't think he expected me to go through with my resignation if it meant his job too. But he didn't realise how important it was to me to keep Sera the city I'd made it, to keep it fresh and full of life."
"But you say you are still great friends. Does he not blame you?"
Antonio laughed. "Crea couldn't function without me," he replied. "We've been friends many, many years. We would do anything for each other. We could never fight, not really. We're too important to each other."
Abruptly, Qui-Gon stood. "Well thank you for your time, Mr Rechton."
Antonio saw the other Jedi exchange startled glances. Obi-Wan rose. "Yes, we must be leaving," he said, but his eyes were on Qui-Gon. Something obviously wasn't right, and Antonio craved to know what it was, to be let into their world and explore their secrets, but he knew he would be denied any such privilege.
They were moving towards the door now, and only Leyana stopped to look back at him. Her golden eyes were bright and sparkling, when she smiled she literally lit up the whole room. She was definitely something special.
"Thank you," she said softly, and then she was gone.
***
"He was hiding something."
"Don't be so suspicious. He was perfectly normal."
"He was anything but normal. A Governor at only 22? No normal man could advance that quickly."
"Being brilliant does not make him guilty."
"No, but being guilty does."
Leyana narrowed her eyes at her Master. "I do not believe you can accuse him of being guilty without evidence."
Shara snorted. "And I have no doubt we will find some."
"Enough." Qui-Gon cut into their argument with a sharp tone, causing silence to ensue.
"Are you like this every mission?"
Shara and Leyana exchanged a glance. "Pretty much," admitted Leyana. "We always argue about stuff. It's just the way we are."
"Well the way you are is beginning to give me a headache," Qui-Gon snapped, rubbing his temples to illustrate his point. He sighed and passed a hand over tired eyes. "Perhaps we should finish for today, go back to our quarters, have a little space."
"We're beginning to grate on your nerves Qui-Gon," Shara said, a hint of a smile in her voice.
Yes, Qui-Gon thought. You are grating on my nerves, but it's not just that.
The meeting had unsettled him. Seeing Xanatos, or at least who he thought was Xanatos, had stirred too much emotion in him, and throughout the interview all he had been able to think about was his former apprentice. The most disturbing thing of all was that keen sense of disappointment he'd experienced, that almost desperate wish that it was Xanatos, and not just a stranger. Did he want to meet Xanatos again? Did he want to be face to face with the man who was once a son, but had betrayed him in the worst, most painful way possible?
He could feel Obi-Wan watching him. They were all watching him, but it was only Obi-Wan's gaze he felt. Only Obi-Wan who knew what he was feeling.
Shara and Leyana moved away, towards the Dingen, but Qui-Gon was rooted to the spot, struggling to contain his feelings, to hide them. A gentle hand laid on his arm, and he looked up into Obi-Wan's eyes, clear concern written there.
"Master" he began, but Qui-Gon shook him off, and turned away.
"Not now."
For a moment he could feel the shock and pain in his Padawan, and the boy flinched as if he'd been slapped. But Qui-Gon would not hurt him with his sudden doubts about himself, about Xanatos. He would not wound Obi-Wan like that.
He walked away, leaving Obi-Wan standing alone.
***
They moved in silence, the birds singing songs of carefree pleasure, the sun tracing patterns on their hair.
He could not yet speak, could not yet confront his fears, make them real, so he was silent. And she waited, patiently, ready to listen.
They had been walking half an hour before the first word was uttered, it burst from him, savage, ugly, hated.
"Xanatos."
She remained silent, waiting for him to say more.
"Even in his death he cast a shadow over us."
He turned to look at her then, her beautiful golden eyes steady on his face, all her attention fixed on him.
"He was Qui-Gon's apprentice, before me. The lure of greed and riches was too much for him. It was a long time ago now, but Qui-Gon still feels it like yesterday."
"There are many rumours about Qui-Gon's former apprentice."
He smiled bitterly. "That's what he was to me once too. A rumour. Harmless, intriguing, but non-existent.
He sighed, and sat down on one of the craggy rocks that decorated the rolling hills of Seratina.
"Xanatos."
She sat carefully beside him. "Tell me about him," she said. "Tell me what he did to you."
"He tried to kill me," he said softly. "He hated Qui-Gon, and would have done anything to wound him, to destroy him."
"So he went after you."
He nodded. "It was on a planet named Bandomeer." He eyes seemed far away, lost on Bandomeer, lost, once again, in the middle of an ocean, with no one to find him.
"I was imprisoned on a mining platform there, at Xanatos's request, I-" he hesitated, remembering the way Xanatos had tricked him. "I allowed him to plant doubt in my mind, against my self and against Qui-Gon. I wasn't his apprentice then, though I longed to be. He was afraid to take another apprentice, and so he shut me out. Xanatos knew this and used it against me. I didn't trust Qui-Gon, didn't trust that he would bother to look for me. But he did."
He closed his eyes, awash with memories that he had not visited in a long time.
"He returned again and again to haunt us, to torment us. The last battle was on Telos, his home planet. We had followed him there after he had attacked the Jedi Temple. You know he did much damage there. He almost killed my best friend, Bant, but I-" Tears behind his lids, his throat constricted as he felt fingertips brushing his own, saw wide eyes stare at him in shock, heard a body crunch against the rocks. "I tried to save him," he whispered. "I tried."
"I know."
Warm hands closed over his, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Bruck Chun," he said, and felt stronger from saying the name aloud. "Xanatos ordered him to kill Bant, but I went after him. We fought in the waterfall in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. He wasn't expecting the water to come back on, but I had seen the warning light." He was back in that room, seeing the little red light blink on, fighting his way to a firm foothold, bracing himself against the oncoming spray.
"I reached out to him, but I was too late, could only just touch his fingertips."
He squeezed his eyes tight against the memory, fighting the guilt that still lingered in his heart. When he next spoke his voice was flat, almost dead.
"Xanatos got away, fled to Telos. But Qui-Gon was determined to follow him, and so I went to. Again, he almost killed us, only this time it was his security squad pulling the trigger. He had become very powerful on Telos, and we were proclaimed escaped criminals within moments of arriving, but we managed to discredit him, show the people of Telos who he really was. What he really was.
We followed him to the Sacred Pools, once crystal clear but then ruined by Offworld. He jumped in. The water was highly acidic, and he disintegrated before our very eyes."
His gaze turned over the hills, toward the blue sky.
"He had to end it on his terms, always did. I thought we'd never see him again, but today was too close, stirred too many memories."
"Why today?"
He glanced at her in surprise. It seemed incredulous that she should not know, that she did not realise.
"Antonio Rechton," he said. "He is the splitting image of Xanatos. I thought I was looking at a ghost." His tone turned bitter. "And so, obviously, did Qui-Gon. It's just like before. He's shutting me out." His eyes found hers. "Even Xanatos's memory is causing me to doubt."
"Why are you so afraid of him? He is dead, he can't hurt you. Why does his memory still wound?"
He sighed. This was the hardest part, the part he wished he could keep from her forever. The part that had nothing to do with Xanatos, but had everything to do with himself.
"I'm afraid of becoming like him. I came close once, too close. I almost left the Jedi forever, almost left Qui-Gon. I wounded Qui-Gon in exactly the same way he did."
"But you came back."
"Does that make any difference?"
"It makes all the difference. You were able to choose right over wrong. You went back to him, showed him that you would not abandon him."
"But doesn't the fact that I left him in the first place make me equally bad?"
"No, because you did it for the right reasons. Xanatos left because he wanted riches. You left because you wanted to help Melida/Daan."
He gave a bitter laugh. "And a lot of good it did them."
"The main thing is that you tried."
He turned away. "You know. Of course you know, everyone knows. They all blamed me."
"I didn't."
Her eyes drew his gaze.
"It only made me realise how precious every moment is, and no matter how many mistakes we make, we can always do good. Obi-Wan-"
Her hand moved across his chest, settling over his beating life force.
"Your heart is pure."
Their eyes locked, and Obi-Wan felt his desires rise. He turned away, gently taking her hand from his heart.
"Tell me about your friends on Melida/Daan. What was it that made you stay?"
He blinked. He realised she could not know the painful significance of that question, but it still it felt like a mockery. Could he talk to her about Melida/Daan? About Cerasi?
"It was her," he whispered. "Cerasi."
He had only ever spoken to Bant about Cerasi, had kept her locked up in a tiny box, preserving her memory. He knew now he had held that memory too long a secret.
"She was…indescribable. Vibrant, full of life. She thought she was invincible.
She was like my sister, no more than that. She was the closest friend, the most caring sibling, the fiercest warrior. All she wanted was peace."
He looked at Leyana, finding that gentle, golden glow.
"She died. I held her in my arms, and watched the life fade from her. Watched her eyes go blank. Felt her body go limp." Tears slipped down his cheeks, but he didn't notice them, lost in the memory of those final moments with Cerasi.
"She was the reason the war ended, her death. She brought peace to her planet, but she never got to see it, never got to enjoy it."
"Do you think she would have had it any other way?"
He shook his head sadly. "No," he replied. "She wouldn't have changed a thing."
For a moment there was silence, then she said softly, "My mother died. Two months ago."
He glanced at her, surprised that she would even know this.
"I met her," she said. "When I visited Levitãs. She was proud, she told me, proud of her daughter. She promised me we would meet again one day, but now it will never be."
She reached into her robes and pulled out a fine gold chain, the one Obi-Wan had noticed before but never thought to ask about.
"She gave me this."
She held it out to him, and he marvelled at the tiny pendant which hung there. It was a ball of light, literally glowing in her hand.
"It's a family heirloom, handed down from generation to generation, through men and women. She told me it would mean that a part of her would always be with me."
Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. "Even in death."
He took her hand, and they sat there, enjoying the warmth of each other as they relived their most painful memories.
Only as the shadows lengthened did they begin the walk back towards Sera, two figures, framed by the setting sun, made one by their joined hands.
***
Two black eyes followed the Jedi as they moved, oblivious, into the distance. A figure, hidden in the shadows of a tree, smiled to itself, pleased by the things it had heard.
"Little Jedi, little Jedi," it sang softly.
In the trees the birds ceased their songs, and the animal in the woods grew still. They cowered, fearful of the evil that permeated the air.
The figure smiled.
"You'll soon be mine."
***
