A/N

I'm really sorry that I took so long (again) but I found out something about myself. I absolutely can't write fighting scenes. So I asked a friend of mine to write it. She hesitated before she saw my desperate gaze and then took a pen and a piece of paper and started.

Then I needed to type it and fill it with my own lines to combine this two pieces. I think she is a brilliant writer.

So have fun but be warned. This is not a happy chapter..

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The hall was filled with silence. Nobody said a word as Chris and Wyatt stared each other in the eyes.

„How lovely. Chris to the rescue!" Wyatt stepped forward.

„Look Melinda. Your favourite brother is here to save the day!"
He opened his arms wide as to embrace his brother but turned instead facing the crowd.

„What a nice surprise."

He turned around again.

„You should have informed we about your homecoming, Christopher. I would have invited you to my little party."

„Your little party? Don't you mean your little feast of the Sacrifice, Wyatt!" Chris strong voice floated the hall.

Melinda stepped forward but Chris stopped her with a shook of his head.

„By the goddess you could never see the bigger picture, could you?"

„Not when you are the one who is painting it."

Wyatt's guards moved forward but he stopped them.

„What do you say Wyatt. I challenge you. Just you and me."

„How pathetic. The old good versus evil battle."

Wyatt went towards Chris until he stood in front of him.

They looked each other in the eyes.

„As you wish, Christopher. I see you already chose your weapon."
Chris raised his sword.

„Ah. I see." Wyatt eyed the sword. It was made of pure silver and had a green gem in the middle of the Sword grasp.

„This will indeed be a battle between good and evil. Isn't it ironic that I will fight with Excalibur and you with Ralok? The legend says that only a truly evil being can carry it."

„The legends were wrong. You need better scientist, brother. Ralok can only be carried by the most powerful being. Indifferent if it is good or evil."

„And now you are going to tell me that YOU are the most powerful being?"

Wyatt snorted.

„I challenge you, Wyatt."

„Excalibur!" Wyatt's sword flow right into his hand.

It were Moments like These, when Faith cursed her husbands attitude. She knew, without looking at him, that Wyatt would respond to his brother's unspoken challenge. And she also knew how things would turn out. She knew in the moment when he released his hold on her and stepped into the middle to confront his brother she heard him call his sword and inhaled deeply. Nothing was decided yet she told herself. Everything could still be okay.

Closing her eyes, she prayed fervently to any Gods, Demons ob Ancestors that may listen, that her beloved would come out unharmed from this fight. Ignoring the fact that her praying would be a desperate measure.

The sound from clashing swords woke her from her dream - like state and she saw her husband and her brother - in - law circle each Otter, the same concentrated, determined look on each face: one was here to change future and destiny, the other to keep save what he had achieved and loved most. Every one of them determined to win, regardless of the cost. And every single Person in the Rom knew, it would only end when one of the opponents surrendered - or died.

And Faith knew that giving up wasn't something Wyatt would do.

It didn't take much time for Wyatt to realize that his brother had improved his fighting skills - a lot.

"You have been practising little one."

"All for you, brother. All for you."

Chris stokes were brutal and fierce, he was fast and skilful - and Wyatt found himself at the receiving point, pushed back to a merely defensive role- one which he wasn't used to. He was the aggressor - had always been - and not his little brother. And what was it suddenly with Chris's confident, firm behaviour ? His thoughts and musings were interrupted as he had to block off some rather violent strokes and for one moment - just one - his defence wasn't enough: he heard his wife cry out and the rest of the assembled group took in sharp intakes of breath, as he stumbled backwards.

Disbelievingly, he looked at his sword - arms saw the blood running down and drop on the floor where soon a puddle of the thick, red liquid was to be seen.

"It's not possible", he whispered to himself, fighting off a wave of nausea that threatened to overtake him.

"It is." A firm voice. Steps that came steadily nearer. Wyatt was still looking at his feet where his sword laid - attached to his right hand. The fingers still curled around the hilt.

"You know, it wasn't me alone who defeated you tonight." Chris was standing before him now, blood dripping from his sword, an unreadable expression on his face - something like pity? Remorse? Guilt? Wyatt wasn't sure. He looked over to his wife who had gone deadly pale and was visibly shaking.

He locked eyes with her while Chris's words washed over him.

Words like "…our ancestors..","…combined powers…", "….I had no other choice.."

They made no sense to him. No sense at all.

And suddenly his younger brother stood so close to him that he could feel his breath on his face, saw the teas in his eyes and could hear his hoarse voice whispering: "I'm sorry. You left me no other choice."

It was second time that day that he heard a desperate cry from his wife. The second time that Chris's sword made contact with his body - and the first time ever in his life, that he fell to the floor in front of an enemy.

He heard voices. Shouts. They were all meaningless now. They didn't matter . Nothing mattered except for the loving, warm, melodic voice that he could now hear.

Gently hands , that lifted his head on something soft. That stroked his head. His face. Took the pain away. Made him feel at ease, at last.

He whispered her name one last time and with a heartbreakingly desperate effort. And when the last colours disappeared and darkness engulfed his whole being his heart cried out - to his mother.

And Faith buried her head in her husbands now motionless chest - and wept. Till no more tears would come.