Disclaimer: Vanyel, Yfandes, Stefen, Valdemar, and all other related places and characters are owned my Mercedes Lackey. I take no claim in ownership.

Warnings: Mentions of slight violence and rape, along with homosexuality.

A/N: This is my first and most likely going to be the only fanfiction I write for The Last Herald-Mage. I'm hoping to maybe be able to write another someday, but I'm content with just this. :) Please, enjoy and review if you like. I have to thank Ann (garnigal on livejournal) for beta reading this for me.

Vanyel had been close to lecturing Stefen, but he kept a tight shield on his emotions. Even though he was angry, he tried to stay rational. His speech was cut-off though, as dozens of men suddenly swarmed toward them.

Waving his hands, several balls of fire formed out of nothingness, and exploded near the stranger's. He ignored the sounds Melody, Stefen's mount, was making, and quickly cut down one of their attackers. Yfandes' anger echoed through the link between them, as she managed to catch another in the face with her hooves.

For longer then he deemed necessary, Vanyel and Yfandes tried to fight off the small army. His heart and mind went cold, as he heard the shocked cry of his Companion. Vanyel paled, fighting against the group, all of who he guessed where bandits.

Part of his mind was occupied with worry about Stefen, and the downing of Yfandes distracted him further. Though it took a great deal of effort, he pulled his attention back to the task at hand. as a signal, much like an alarm, went off in his mind; Vanyel turned on his heels, preparing an attack, when a powder-like substance was thrown at him. He collapsed as whatever spell had been placed on him took effect. A seamless wall closed in his Mage and Mind Gifts, quickly appearing before Vanyel could react to it, and he blacked out.

---

When Vanyel awoke, he felt a fearful sense of confinement. He was confused, and his thoughts where muddled. As it all cleared, through the confusion from the powder, he dimly felt his feet and hands tied, and Felt the barrier around the little area of his mind that was not affected and was still his to control.

Summoning up some strength, Vanyel ran into the barrier that surrounded his mind, hitting against it in hopes that it would shatter and free him. Unfortunately, it stayed firmly in place and intact. Vanyel's anger grew, when his body was freed from the ropes, but he couldn't do anything more then weakly scratch at the floor.

Someone held him up, making sure he was standing up. Vanyel mentally braced himself as best he could for what was to come. He doubled over, when one of the brigands punched him in the stomach. In turn someone else kicked him in the legs, pain erupting in both areas.

The beating went on for longer then expected. Through the pain, Vanyel felt grim satisfaction; the focus stone hanging at his throat burned anyone that dared to touch it, and he knew it. Finally one of the men did one last hit, this time to the groin area, before quitting. They probably got bored, Vanyel thought, staying in the part of his mind not blocked or in pain; even though he tried not to take notice of the pain, when the man holding him up let go, Vanyel fell to the floor and twitched.

Vanyel forced his eyes open, even though his vision was blurred and unfocused, nearly blinded. Closing them again, he whimpered softly. Someone, one of the bandits, grabbed hold of his hair, and yanked him up. Whoever it was threw him against something, and positioned him. Saddle? Vanyel would have frowned, had he not been already and whimpering in pain. Suddenly, he was hit sharply with the harness that was with the saddle. Through the fog in his mind, he had a last thought before pain and rage started to fog his mind more then before; What are they planning?

---

Filled with an agony beyond comprehension, Vanyel cried weakly. He could feel what was being done, and it hurt and angered him. The whole time though, he had tested the magical barrier, each time proving to be a failure. Vaguely he felt someone ungag and let him loose, before tugging his clothes to their proper places, but he could do no more then weakly claw at the floor and his helper.

That same someone dragged him across the floor. Vanyel didn't know where he was being taken, or why; he just wanted revenge, to cause his rapist and beaters as much pain as them to him. Painfully, Vanyel beat on the barriers on him, quickly running back when each try failed.

He couldn't just find a weak or cracked spot, for there was none. The walls were smooth and looked unbreakable, which it was proving to be so. After what seemed like hours, a thin crack appeared in one of the walls. Vanyel watched it, as finally the wall exploded. Using his anger to help him, Vanyel burst through the spell placed on his senses and Gifts, and unleashed one of the most powerful surges of Mage-Gift power that Valdemar – or anyone – had ever witnessed.

Ignoring the pain that still lingered, Vanyel went through the building, or what was left of it, going after the survivors. A group of them where huddled against a wall outside, shivering. He watched them, his eyes gleaming a dark blood red.

"Vanyel!" The Herald-Mage quickly looked toward the voice, not really seeing the speaker – who happened to be his lifebonded, Stefen. Vanyel looked back at the group of bandits, and made a fast gesture. At the movement, one of the men stood up, and walked toward him.

He laughed, hearing the cries for mercy through the sullen silence. His voice was soft, sounding more like he was in a conversation, as he said, "What mercy did you give me, scum? It seems to me that I remember you. It seems to me that you where the first and the last to sate yourself. 'Little white mare,' I believe you called me."

With another gesture, the frightened man picked up the splintered spear-shaft that had been lying on the ground, and held the sharp points to his own stomach. Vanyel, though he didn't smile or make any outward indication of it, felt morbid satisfaction, as his lust for pain to come to the bandits was being unleashed.

"No! Van, no!" Stefen jumped in front of Vanyel, holding his hands out. "Van, you're a Herald, no matter what they did to you, you can't do that to him!"

Vanyel felt his mind clear for a split second, before the anger spilled back in and he turned back into the angered and wounded animal, less then sane. He tightened his jaw, and pushed the Bard out of the way with the power of his Mind magic. He stepped forward, even when Stefen got between him and the brigand again, outstretching his arm and hand for the final attack.

"Van-Van, don't! If you do this, you'll be just as bad as he is. Don't let him do that to you! Don't let them make you into something they are!" Going numb, Vanyel stopped, staring at Stefen. The red glow disappeared, and he blinked. His sanity restored, he looked around, until he saw the bodies of an old Healer and a child.

Oh no, they are...I just murdered innocents..., Vanyel thought, I'm a....I've got to get away from here... He tensed up, preparing to run for the door, but Yfandes beat him to it; she placed herself firmly between him and the exit. Let me go. I'm a murderer...

Vanyel felt a deep hatred for himself, for causing such destruction and the death of two possible innocents. And 'Fandes...Stef...how could they still care for me, after this? It's just...like 'lendel. Yfandes is going to repudiate me, so will Stef...no one can 'love' a murderer.

He didn't even really hear what Stefen was saying, as Yfandes gently forced him to step closer to his lifebonded. Vanyel shuddered when Stefen took him into his arms. He felt the onset of numbness in both his mind and heart. Through the link, he felt a weak pulse of loving, caring. Finally, he allowed himself to collapse into Stefen's embrace, his mind going blank from the aftershock of the massacre.

Now, only time could heal the broken Herald.