Disclaimer: Valdemar, Heralds, Companions etc … none of that belongs to me, it's all the property of Mercedes Lackey. I'm just borrowing the characters for a while … apart from Aline who is most definitely mine : )

A/N: Hmm … not a lot to say today. Oh – I've finally managed to locate a copy of the Mage Storms trilogy (had to order over from America, would you believe it?) Anyway, that should help with my character definitions because I know people like An'desha have been a little OOC, mainly because the memory of his character that I had comes from the Mage Winds trilogy. Hopefully my characterisation should be more accurate when the books arrive!

As ever, the thankyous are at the bottom of the page.

Oh and this chapter is dedicated to new reviewers maybell, Herald Kelsin and Breezefire – hope you guys continue to read and review!

------------

After the Storm

By: JoeyStar

Timeframe: Set a year or so after Owlknight

------------

(Palace – Secure Room)

Talia stood outside the cell and peered through the bars. The man inside – the one who had been posing as a servant for so long; who had murdered the heir to the throne – was rocking backwards and forwards, mumbling to himself. She was tightly shielded but the Queen's Own knew that if she were to reach out, all she would receive from the man was madness. It was as if his sanity had been torn right out of his body.

Beside her, Firesong shook his head in complete amazement. 'If I had not seen the hurt this man has done Dar'ian and my ash'ke I would accuse you of lying to me about his Mage Gift.'

Talia turned to look at him, her face worried. 'There is no sign of it?'

'This man does not possess any magic,' Firesong said flatly, running a hand through his hair. 'I – I do not understand this.'

She could feel his frustration, even through her shields, as she could feel the servant's madness. It was enough to send her running for the nearest exit and she fought the urge to massage her temples.

'There is no sanity left within him,' Firesong continued, his voice turning bleak and his eyes fixed on the man who had done so much damage. The man who seemed incapable of even knowing his own name. 'He is losing his mind.'

At this Talia started. If they were to ever learn who was behind this attack then they needed him both sane and lucid. The queen was looking for someone to punish and Talia didn't want to let her down. Not now, when surely they were steps away from discovering the root of this insanity. 'We need time to question him,' she said anxiously, looking beseechingly up at the handsome Tayledras. 'Is there anything you can do?'

Firesong shifted his weight, the icy blue robe he was wearing, fluttering around his ankles. 'I can … I can try,' he answered, sounding dubious, 'though I can't say how much good it will do.'

The sound of people approaching disturbed their conversation and they both looked around in time to see Kero and Eldan hurrying down the steps from the palace above, and a little way behind them, Darkwind.

Firesong frowned when he saw his old pupil. 'You should still be resting,' he chastised Darkwind, who he had not seen since the other had angrily stalked out of their meeting earlier that week.

Darkwind met and held his gaze, blue eyes level. 'It was me or Elspeth,' he said simply. 'And she is in no condition to be down here. I left her with the queen.'

Firesong's scowl lessened slightly as he recognised the wisdom in Darkwind's words. Elspeth, despite her pregnancy and what she had been through, still had will of tempered steel. She would have wanted Darkwind to be there in her stead and if he was honest with himself, Firesong admitted that if any pair had earned the right to question this miscreant, it was Elspeth and Darkwind.

Talia was peering over Kero's shoulder. 'Where's Skif?' she enquired. 'I would have expected him to be here.'

'He's pursuing another lead,' Kero replied shortly, turning to the cell. She pressed her face close to the small iron-barred window that allowed those outside to observe the prisoner. 'Is that him?'

'Yes,' Talia said.

Kero sniffed. 'Hardly looks dangerous.'

'Well, that's the problem. He isn't.'

'What?' Kero looked at Firesong as if he had gone mad. 'This man attacked your partner, fought off Darkwind, Elspeth and your student Darian – all Adepts – and killed Prince Kris and you're telling me that he isn't dangerous?!'

Darkwind moved forward and placed a hand on Kero's shoulder. 'Firesong is speaking the truth, Kero. I don't understand what has happened … but his power has gone. I can feel it from here. This man … he does not possess the Mage Gift.'

Kero stared incredulously at the younger Hawkbrother. 'This is the right man, isn't it? Or have you all gone mad?'

'This is the right man,' Darkwind murmured, looking down at his hands.

Kero's gaze flickered between them. 'But how is this possible? I may not be a mage myself, but enough of my family are for me to have an understanding of magic and this – this isn't possible!'

'Easy Kero,' Eldan said gently, drawing her back slightly. 'Why don't we listen to Firesong's explanation?'

Everyone looked expectantly at the silver-haired Adept. He drummed the fingers of one hand against the opposite arm as if searching for an answer. Then he grimaced behind his blue mask and threw his hands up in the air. 'I don't have an explanation! What has happened here – it makes no sense. It is like nothing I have ever seen before; nothing any Tayledras has ever seen before.' He turned to Kero. 'I am very sorry, Lady Herald, but I cannot explain it.'

She met his gaze, one blonde eyebrow arched and a smile tugging at her lips. 'That must just drive you mad.'

Firesong laughed ruefully. 'How well you know me, my friend.'

Eldan had taken Kero's place at the grate and as he stepped back, his expression was thoughtful. The lock of white hair that had become something of his trademark over the years, fell over his eyes and he brushed it back unconsciously. 'He looks crazed,' the Herald observed.

'Oh great,' Kero moaned, 'as if it wasn't hard enough to question him already.'

Talia cleared her throat. 'That is just one more problem that we are going to have to work around. Selenay has waited long enough. We owe this to her … and we owe it to Kris.'

Her calm words sobered the group and they fell silent as she took a large iron key out of her pocket and slipped it into the cell door. She twisted it a quarter of the way around and the glanced back over her shoulder at the others. 'Firesong …?'

'Of course.' He stepped forward and pressed the flat of his hands against the door. Those with the Mage Gift felt the energy around them shifting as Firesong release the wards that had been placed around the cell in light of the magical power the prisoner had previously exhibited. It seemed a little obsolete now that the man was apparently Gift-less.

With the barriers lifted, Talia turned the key the remainder of the way and drew back the heavy mixture of bolts and catches that sealed the door shut. When she had finished she paused briefly to catch her breath and then hauled the heavy door open.

The servant hadn't moved and he didn't acknowledge their presence as the mixture of Heralds and Tayledras Adepts entered the cell. He simply continued to rock steadily back and forth, his eyes wide and staring.

Talia held up a hand, forestalling any comment or action. She walked across the cell and knelt before the man, taking his shaking hands in her own and lowering her mental barriers slightly.

Wincing, she immediately threw them back up again and released him, her own hands shaking.

'Talia? Are you alright?'

She smiled weakly at Eldan. 'I shall live. Though I do not know how much use I can be to you; his emotions are so jumbled – there's nothing I can do with them.' She rose unsteadily to her feet.

Kero cursed under her breath. 'We need him to be lucid, not insane.'

Firesong drifted across the room and looked down at the prisoner, unable to keep his nose from wrinkling in response to the man's physical and mental state. 'Let me see what I can do.' He forewent the kneeling down and crouched instead, gingerly touching the man's forehead. Those watching saw his back tense and then relax again. In front of him, the man's rocking slowed and he actually turned to look at Firesong, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

'There,' the Adept said, his voice tight. 'I have him – though I cannot say how long he will remain. Ask your questions quickly.'

The other four in the room exchanged looks and Eldan waved Kero forward, indicating that she should take the lead in the questioning. The formidable woman stalked forward until she was standing inches away from the servant. Firesong moved to the side so that he was out of her way; his eyes were closed underneath the mask and his face slightly paler than normal as he struggled to retain the man's sanity.

'Who are you?' Kero began with the most obvious question.

The man trembled and now that they were close to him, everyone could see why Darkwind and Elspeth had had such trouble recalling striking features about his appearance. He simply did not have any – he was the most nondescript man that Kero had ever seen and that was what made him the perfect spy or assassin.

Faced with Kero's stony façade, the man blanched. 'M-my name is – is …' he spoke as if fighting some kind of compulsion. 'I-is … is Ventar.'

'He speaks the truth,' Eldan informed them from the rear of the room, having invoked the Heraldic truth spell which had, for hundreds of years, been the only magic that Heralds could perform.

Kero nodded at him and then returned his attention to Ventar. 'And what position do you hold?'

'I am … I am a servant.'

'A servant to who?'

'The Royal Family of – of Valdemar.'

'He speaks the truth,' Eldan repeated, in answer to Kero's inquiring look. Her eyes narrowed but before she could loose her temper, Talia stepped in. 'Kero, he does speak the truth because he is a palace servant,' the Queen's Own said diplomatically. 'Remember that the truth spell is an inexact magic.'

'Fine, fine.' Kero changed the direction of her questions, 'who are you working for?'

The man's fevered eyes locked on hers. 'N-no one …' he croaked.

Kero sat back on her heels. 'This is getting us nowhere.'

'Kero? Let me try,' Talia suggested, coming forwards and drawing her fellow Herald away. 'I don't think you're asking quite the right questions.'

Kero looked like she was going to argue but then she glanced at the man's trembling form and sighed. 'Go ahead.'

Like before, Talia knelt down in front of the man and took his hand. This time however, she kept the shields around her Empathic Gift stong and simply looked deep into his eyes, willing to trust her own judgement. 'Hello Ventar … I'm Talia.'

Behind the Queen's Own Kero rolled her eyes but Eldan urged her to be silent. Darkwind, who was only just within the doorway, waited patiently, his expression unfathomable as Talia attempted to connect to the man that had almost killed him. He, more so than anyone, knew the full extents of this man's apparent power … and the sudden surprising lack of it.

'I'm going to ask you a couple of questions.'

Having to treat a murderer so kindly – particularly in light of his specific crime against someone she had looked upon as a nephew – was making Talia's teeth ache. She wondered whether anyone else in the tiny room knew how close she was coming to losing control of her gift and forcing this man to relive all the pain he had caused. It was something that hadn't happened since her days as a trainee under the tutelage of the then Herald Kris and that she was nearing the position now told her how much strain this situation was putting on her shields.

'I want you to tell me who you were working for, before you came to the palace.'

Ventar stiffened, almost writhing although because he was still slumped in the corner of the room, his knees drawn up against his chest, he couldn't move very far.

Talia gently took his chin in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. 'Ventar – please answer the question.'

'I was a servant,' he blurted out, laughter twisting the words. Alarmed, Talia glanced at Firesong and saw that the Tayledras's face was almost as white as a Companion.

'If you could be swift about this it would be appreciated,' he murmured.

Talia nodded, still understandably disturbed by the giggles that were bubbling out of Ventar's mouth. She took a deep breath and composed herself before continuing. 'Who were you a servant for? Before you worked here at the palace?'

The anguish that crossed Ventar's face actually made Talia pause for a second. Then she reminded herself that this monster was going to be charged with one – possibly two – counts of murder and whatever brief sympathy she had felt, fled.

'I … I …,' Ventar visibly struggled against Talia's soft questions. 'I … I worked for – for … Lord Orth-Orthal … for Lord Orthallen.'

Somehow, no one was surprised. With this piece of knowledge, many seemingly individual pieces of evidence suddenly became part of a greater whole and behind Talia, Kero grinned triumphantly and began whispering to Eldan.

Talia forced herself to focus on the prisoner; there was one more question she wanted to ask him. 'And what about now Ventar? Who were you working for when you attacked Lyra, Elspeth and Darkwind? Who were you working for when you … when you killed Kris?'

Ventar looked away from her and resumed his study of the wall.

'Ventar?'

Beside the prisoner, Firesong let loose a barely audible gasp. 'Quickly Talia.'

'Ventar – answer my question!' Talia said forcefully, severely doubting that she would receive an answer. After all, Ventar had nothing to gain from being so honest … and part of her couldn't help wondering why he had been so free with his information thus far.

He began rocking backwards and forwards again, his movement forming an eerie counterpoint to the mumblings that could be heard.

Talia was about to give up and move away when she caught a word of what he was muttering. 'Ventar,' she said urgently, leaning as close to the man as she dared, 'who ordered you to attack?'

He didn't look up at her; he didn't flinch; he simply continued to rock and repeat that one word in a dead voice.

'Orthallen.'

----------------------------

(Haven – the Watch headquarters)

Skif poked his head around the door of the Watch headquarters and furtively eyed the man sitting behind the desk. The Watch Captain was round, with a mop of brown hair atop his head that was slowly turning grey. His dark beady eyes scanned the document that he was reading and his moustache quivered importantly. Skif was debating whether to indulge himself and have some fun with this man, when Kero's parting words came back to him and he realised he was too fond of his life to make Kero angry. With a mournful sigh he straightened his Whites and knocked against the doorframe.

The captain looked up, face reddening at the unwanted intrusion. Fixing the most pleasant expression he could upon his face, Skif stepped into the room and inclined his head towards the man. Catching sight of his uniform and realising who he was, the man rose with much effort and reluctantly nodded back.

'What can I do for you Herald?'

'And a good day to you too,' Skif replied cheekily before reigning his tongue in and presenting his case. 'I was wondering whether I could have a look at the details of thefts that have been logged with the Watch in the last couple of months.'

The man's tiny eyes narrowed even further. 'And what possible reason could you have to want to look at those files?'

Skif drew himself up. 'Why I want that information is none of your damn business. I'm working for Queen Selenay … do you think she would be pleased to know that you are obstructing my investigation?'

The captain glared darkly at him and Skif once again lamented his need to be swift. This one would have been fun.

:But what you are actually supposed to be doing is far more important,: Cymry reminded him, as if she was worried that he had forgotten.

:I know.:

'The details are in that room,' the captain said finally, pointing off to the right but making no move to show Skif himself 'second cupboard on the left. And if you touch anything else, I will know about it.'

'Thank you for your help,' Skif said in a tone that bordered on patronizing. Before the captain could reply, he hurried into the room that the man had indicated and opened the cupboard. Endless piles of reports greeted his gaze; all haphazardly scattered in a number of wooden crates. It didn't look as if anyone had inspected them in years.

Skif sighed bitterly and resigned himself to spending the rest of the day searching through endless details of people's thefts. As he settled himself comfortably on the ground, he had a wicked thought. He wondered, if he looked back far enough, whether he would discover any crimes that he could easily solve … because he had been the perpetrator.

:I don't think the records go back that far, Chosen.:

:No,: Skif agreed, a little disappointed, :probably not.:

Pulling out the crate that happened to be on top of the pile, he lifted up the first report and scanned it swiftly, before placing it facedown on the floor beside him.

:One down …:

:Several thousand to go?: Cymry suggested helpfully.

Skif ignored her and drew out the next report.

-------------------------

(Palace – Elspeth and Darkwind's suite)

When Darkwind returned to the rooms he shared with Elspeth, he paused in the doorway, taking a moment to just study this Outlander-woman who had come to mean so much to him.

She was sitting by one of the broad windows and her back was to him so she didn't see him enter. The position had become a habitual one for Elspeth – and not just because of her recent illness. Her increased girth due to the pregnancy made it difficult for her to move and even more difficult for her to stand – hence her increased use of the soft, low armchairs that they both loved so much.

Because her back was facing him, he couldn't see her expression but he knew that there had to be some tension in her face because she was waiting for him to return from questioning the man who had murdered her brother and put her sister in a coma. The argument that they had had preceding the questioning had been bitter and ugly. All of Elspeth's pent up anger and frustration had found an outlet in the face of Darkwind's refusal to let her accompany him and she had said some biting and heated things – things that Darkwind wasn't sure how he should deal with. While on one hand it was wonderful for Elspeth to be showing any emotion beyond sorrow, on the other Darkwind no longer knew where he stood in terms of their relationship. During their years together they had suffered through so much and in his more reflective moments, Darkwind had often wondered whether there would come a point when things would just get too much for both of them. Had they reached that now? Part of him wanted to comfort her and hold her in his arms and the other half was too afraid of discovering the answer to his question.

Elspeth sighed, still unaware that he was watching her. Her thoughts must have been distant, otherwise she would have felt him coming and he wondered what she was thinking about.

At that moment Vree, who Darkwind had left with Elspeth for company, chose to announce Darkwind's presence by launching himself of his low perch and soaring across the room to his bondmate, calling in welcome.

:Thank you feather-head, but I was hoping for a subtle entrance.:

:?: Vree alighted on his arm, talons closing over the leather wrist guards he was wearing, and cocked his head to one side. Darkwind realised his mental thought had been too complicated for the forestgyre to understand but didn't have the energy to simplify the statement. He settled for a weak smile and a gentle caress instead.

:Mate sad,: Vree informed him unexpectedly, leaning into his fingers as they scratched the bird's crest.

Darkwind was touched by the bird's concern. :I know,: he murmured.

:Make happy?: Images of freshly killed rabbit swan out of Vree's simplistic mind and Darkwind's answering smile was genuine this time.

:I promise,: he swore, in time to see that Elspeth had turned awkwardly and was watching him from her seat. He avoided her gaze and focused on Vree. :Sleep?: he suggested to the bondbird, bouncing his arm slightly under the bird's heavy weight.

Luckily, Vree took the hint and returned to his perch, settling his head under one wing. Then and only then, did Darkwind look directly at Elspeth.

'Ke'chara, if you are going to shout again then could we save it for the morning? I am wearied tonight.'

His unusual bluntness obviously caught her by surprise because she opened her mouth as if to speak and then closed it again and looked away from him. Her expression was filled with such pain that he had to dig his heels into the floor to stop him from running to her. Such an action might comfort her in the short-term but it would do no good at mending the rift in their relationship.

'I … I truly did not mean to shout,' she said finally, eyes still downcast. There was no direct apology but Darkwind knew the message her words conveyed.

'I know my love,' he replied, using one of her terms of endearment.

'I just –' she broke off and looked up at him plaintively. 'Won't you come closer Darkwind? I'm not going to bite and this is making my neck ache.'

Chuckling to himself at how that remark was so typically Elspeth, Darkwind closed the door softly behind him and walked across the room to join her. As her blue eyes met his and she smiled shyly, it seemed as if nothing had passed between them. But then she shifted uncomfortably, he sat down abruptly and the moment was gone.

'What happened?' she asked after a moment and Darkwind knew that she was referring to the interrogation of the prisoner. He had expected her to ask but was debating whether it was wise to start such an in-depth conversation so late at night. From the droop of her shoulders he could see how tired she was; probably the only reason she was still awake was to find out what had happened in her absence.

'I think it can wait until the morning,' he said finally.

Her eyes narrowed angrily. 'Darkwind, tell me what happened!'

He shook his head, silver hair falling loosely around his face. 'I think it would be better if –'

'You think? I seem to be hearing a lot of what you think lately,' she snapped, face flushed. 'Do you want to know what I think? I think this has a damn-sight more to do with me than it has to do with you. You're not even related to Kris and Lyra!'

Her sharp words were thoughtless and they cut Darkwind to the bone. Elspeth was well aware of the delicate relationship that existed between Darkwind and his father – who, aside from his half-brother Wintermoon was his only remaining family. But in Haven he didn't even have their fragile support because they were miles away, in k'Sheyna and Darkwind was very much alone. That Elspeth's family had come to accept him had been a relief but to hear the words that had so often worried him, coming out of his lover's mouth was more than he was willing to cope with.

He rose a little unsteadily. 'If that is the way you feel then I shall take my leave of you. If you ask Kero or Firesong I am sure that they will be able to tell you what you wish to know.' He turned and walked back towards the door.

Behind him he heard a rustle of movement. 'Dammit, Darkwind!' Elspeth cried, 'don't walk away from me! I only want –' she broke of so abruptly that he spun around in alarm.

Elspeth was standing before the chairs, the most peculiar expression on her face.

'Elspeth?' Darkwind asked anxiously, all the anger flowing out of him. He hurried across the room to her side. 'Elspeth, ash'ke, what's wrong?'

'I – ' this time she peered down at her stomach and then after a few moments, gently pressed her hands against her swollen belly. When she raised her head again, her eyes were shining with tears. 'Oh Darkwind,' she whispered, sounding entranced, 'the baby … the baby just kicked!'

In that instant Darkwind forgot about all the problems they had been having and simply stared at her in amazement. 'Really?'

She nodded, curly hair bobbing around her face. 'Here,' she took his hand and laid it gently against her stomach.

Darkwind waited impatiently. Nothing. 'I don't –'

'Hush,' she ordered. 'Just wait.'

And then he felt it, a feather-light brush against his palm followed by the stronger impact of the 'kick'. He gasped aloud at the touch – it was the most incredible sensation he had ever experienced in his life! This was his child – a part of him – and in that one moment, the baby wiped away all his fears and pain and he felt a rich, influx of love suffuse his being. Feeling strangely emotional, he wrapped his arms around Elspeth and kissed her soft hair, marvelling at the wonderful life they had created together.

The baby's assertive presence had obviously had a similar effect on Elspeth; her arms came around his waist and she leaned into his embrace.

:Darkwind?: her mind-voice was timid. :I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said and I … I love you. Please don't leave me.: She sounded so horribly lost that his heart almost broke in two.

Darkwind's arms tightened. :I will never leave you,: he promised fiercely. :I love you, ke'chara and I love our child. I will be here, with you, forever.:

:Forever,: she echoed, seemingly comforted.

Darkwind couldn't say how long they remained together, just content to hold one another, to revel in the closeness that had been so absent from their relationship recently. When they finally parted and he looked down at her tenderly, he could tell that she still desperately wanted to ask him about the prisoner, but in the interest of conserving the delicate peace between them, she relented and took his hand instead.

'You said you would never leave me,' she murmured, soundly oddly shy. 'Do you want to start proving that promise now?'

Smiling at her blatant invitation, Darkwind followed Elspeth into the bedroom of their suite, his heart no longer heavy. For while there were still problems to be addressed between them, words to be said and actions to be apologised for, somehow he knew that everything was going to be all right.

------------------------------

(Haven – the Watch headquarters)

'… At which point the assailant fled by way of the open front door, taking approximately two chickens with him …'

Skif felt his eyes growing numb as they scanned what must have been the thousandth theft report. His head felt as heavy as lead and even Cymry's company had been unable to stem the boredom that had overtaken him. A quick glance out of the window showed a darkening sky and the flickering of light from the nearby houses. It could very well be the morning of the next day – Skif wasn't sure – and he was no nearer to finding the elusive report. What he was sure however, was that he was going to have a word with the Watch about the state of their files. The reports should have been categorized in some way; by date or importance or nature of the offence, not simply thrown into a cupboard and left to rot. They were meant to be preventing and solving crime, not making it easier for the thieves to offend again.

I suppose I have many a lazy Watchman to thank for my own success, he thought idly, discarding his current page and pulling another one onto his lap.

'The plaintiff, one Lord Drevin reported the loss of his knives and showed no knowledge of the assailant.'

Skif sat up straighter, his eyes widening as he realised just what he held. A bright smile graced his face; this was Lord Drevin's report! Bending his head over the paper, he read onwards.

'When asked who had access to his possessions on the night that they were stolen, the plaintiff compiled a list of names:

Household staff: Arianne Verdan (Head Cook)

Lastor Galrin (Chief of Staff)

Rinaltha Eao (Chief Housekeeper)

Manran Kerti (Lord Drevin's Man-Servant)

Other: Lady Elva (Wife)

Lady Sarina (Sister-in-law)

Lord Retorn (Nephew)

Ventar Crelik (Palace Man-Servant)

When questioned about the presence of Lady Sarina and Lord Retorn, the plaintiff reported that they had come to Haven from their country estate for a family visit.

Ventar Crelik was returning a number of recently discovered items that had been left at the Palace by the plaintiff's late son, Herald Kris.

In both circumstances, details have been checked and confirmed.'

The report then went on the confirm the details of the theft – though, Skif soon realised, there was little help from that quarter as Lord Drevin had not actually been witness to the crime; he had only realised the knives had been stolen up to a day after the theft.

It was slightly disappointing and it wasn't the solid evidence that Skif had been hoping for. It certainly didn't seem to have been worth him sitting on a cold floor for several candlemarks, reading the most ludicrous of reports.

He rose to his feet with a groan as his tired muscles protested. After returning the reports to their crates and the crates to the cupboard, he carefully folded Lord Drevin's report and tucked it inside his Whites. No matter how useless he felt the document was, Kero would still want to see it.

:Cymry love, has anything exciting happened in the palace during my absence?:

Foregoing her usual teasing comments, Cymry proceeded to tell him about that night's events, including everything that had happened during the questioning of the prisoner. The man's name rung in his mind and pulling Lord Drevin's report out of his pocket, he quickly scanned it, eyes searching.

There it was: 'Ventar Crelik (Palace Man-Servant)' He had been at Lord Drevin's mansion on the night that the knives had been stolen! Everything was beginning to make a horrible kind of sense and Skif reassessed his opinion of the report. It appeared that it was worth something after all – and Kero would most certainly want to see it.

Mentally calling his Companion, Skif ran out of the Watch headquarters and hurriedly made his way back to the palace.

----------------------------------

FINALLY I can stop calling the evil man 'the servant'. You have no idea how annoying that was! Hooray!

Anyway, onto the thankyou's:

G. Zan: Good to have you back – I was beginning to worry that you'd got lost in the archives of fanfic.net : ) I'm glad you liked Lord Drevin – seeing as he was my main OC character, he got a good reception.

Hildi-chan: short but sweet – I likey!

Pyrinsomniac: Hehe – the bedpan scene! I thought it would highly ironic to have this all-powerful mage to be brought down by a bedpan : ) I think that's my favourite scene in whole fic!

Lizai: -shocked expression- are you suggesting my plot hasn't made sense so far? Lol – glad you like the bedpan scene, I was trying to break away from the clichéd all-heroic capture of the enemy

maybell: great to have a new reader! I should write cliffhangers more often! It's nothing personal against my readers – I just like taunting you : )

Queen's Own: Lyra's still sleeping! To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with her yet – that's why she's sleeping! Glad you think the plot is making sense … whew, that was a SERIOUS worry : )

Konitsu: yep – I'm getting the psychic vibes – but reviews are fun too! And Silverfox … I could never hurt him seriously : )

etcetera-cat: I'm so glad that people liked Lord Drevin. He was originally going to be my BAD guy but then I ended up liking him too much! Dammit! Oh, I honestly don't mind you picking out problems with my work – the only way I get to improve my writing is by people telling me what's wrong with it so please, continue!

Herald Kelsin: Another new reviewer – welcome to the story! Don't worry, I think the other characters are safe from death for the time being – cackles wickedly – and to be honest, Kris's death was more of a means to an end than anything personal. Another person who liked Lord Drevin! Guess I'll have to bring him back …

Breezefire: And a third new reviewer – hehe, there must be something in the air. I'm so glad you took the time to review! Yeah … I have a LOAD of loose ends to tie up – so many that I'm probably tie myself in knots! Hope you keep reading

faeborn2930: You know, I really liked Skif's speech as well! Skif being noble – it's always fun to write : ) Wow – my story comes before sleep? I AM impressed – lol

Aeriel Ravenna: Yup, servant = waste of matter – great description : ) Kris's father was originally going to turn out to be the baddy but it just didn't feel right somehow. And besides, I have greater plans in that respect …

Next Chappie:

- More is revealed about the murderer

- ANGRY Selenay

- Lyra …. Yep, you guessed it, Lyra sleeps

As always, please read, review … and enjoy : )