The night was silent, though bright, the moon was shining in its full with the stars around it shining bright. No night time noises were sounded. The trees, reflecting the moon's light, seemed silver in the dark, like

Flaréoné stood next to Ly, motionless, yet looking down onto her body. Although no emotion crossed his face, many things went on behind his eyes.

He hadn't even known Ly for very long, but here she was, lying in the ground in front of him, dead, and he felt remorse, sorry that she had died; he felt anger, anger at those who had killed her; he felt sadness, though this emotion was his custom and he was used to it.

Globox stood next to him. No tears fell down his face, but emotions played clearly across his face. No anger showed, though he felt a huge surge of sadness. He had known Ly more or less all his life.

But although a large portion of his sadness was directly because of Ly's death the rest was devoted to Rayman. Rayman had been closer to Ly then any other person that Globox knew. Ho wondered how Rayman would take it.

But although his brain registered that Ly had died, and thoughts played across his mind, he still could not believe that she was dead. It had always been Rayman who had defeated the bad guys, but whilst Rayman was away it was usually Ly who comforted them and assured them that Rayman would pull through. And now she was gone.

Suddenly he felt an emotion that he had not felt in his memory, in fact one that he had probably never felt at all before this. It took him a second to realise that he hated those creatures that had killed Ly.

Now tears fell down his face as he remembered all those times that Ly had been there for him, all those times where she had raised their moral, and the times she could make even the worst of things into fun, even the great war against the pirates she had invented the walk of life, and the times where she had helped him look after his children.

His thoughts turned to his children, and he realised that they would not understand why Ly would not be able to come back, and even worse, those old enough to understand that Ly was dead…they called her auntie…Auntie Ly. What would he tell them?

He looked at his own hands. He realised that he had welded great power, and suddenly he felt light-headed, for he had always thought that he had no powers, other then the rain dance, which served for no more purpose then to provide water. He had always thought of himself as useless in battle, which was why he was exceedingly happy at having been able to help Rayman against André.

Furio and Furion lay on the floor next to Ly, making futile attempts to revive Ly, but they knew secretly in their hearts and minds that no magic could give the dead life. They conversed silently through their minds, but although they both sought to give the other comfort, they couldn't shake the feeling of losing a friend.

Their were draining their powers using their most powerful spells, so although no life was returned to Ly, her skin was still a healthy colour, and her body would not decompose for a long time. The cuts that had been the result of the knives had vanished, leaving her skin smooth and clean.

This was the scene that Fianna saw as she awoke out of her unconscious state. She realised that she was on top of Rayman, and embarrassed, she got up quickly, and realised that she was aching all over.

Her memory returned to her, and she picked up her sword from where it had fallen on the floor, placing back into its bag. The others were standing with their backs to her; she limped toward them, wondering why they were not even looking at her. And where was Ly?

She was about to say something when she saw Ly's body. Her eyes widened, and she gasped slightly. Was she…was Ly…dead? She turned to Globox.

'Is…is she…' she couldn't bring herself to say the words. That would make it real. She knelt by Ly's body, and held her hand tight, feeling for a pulse. There was none. Tears fell down Fianna's cheeks as her thoughts were confirmed. Ly was dead...

She clenched her teeth, but the tears would not stop flowing, she let out a deep shuddering breath. Her eyes cried with sadness, but they burned with anger.

Ly, the only friend she had had for a long time; the closest Fianna had come to having her sister back, her family back…gone…like her family, her mother, her sister… and in her heart she knew that it was the same person who had ordered Ly to be that had ordered the deaths of everything she ever loved.

Ly and her sister had even looked alike, and Fianna could not shake the memory of watching her sister die; the old sorrow that she had long since buried deep in her heart was opened again, and along with it burned the new rage at the person who had killed her family and friends.

She heard a rustle among the leaves, a shuffling sound. She turned to see Rayman coming toward them, on foot lagging behind. His blue eyes were alert, but filled with pain. His foot was obviously causing him pain.

He had still not seen Ly's dead body. She watched as Rayman's eyes saw Ly's body, she watched as his eyes widened in shock, horror, pain, sorrow...many emotions running across his face. He rubbed his eyes gently, willing the image to go away, but it was no illusion.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out. He tried again.

'L…Ly?' the name came out a mere whisper. As he spoke her name, tears fell from his eyes, slowly at first, but then quickening; trailing down his cheeks and dropping to the ground. He made no move to wipe them. His blue eyes were blurred by the passage of water.

He looked like a child, unable to believe that she was dead. She had been more of a friend to him. She had been a sister. She had been his sister and play-mate ever since he had been a small child. He had known her all his remembered life, the first person in his memory who had ever been kind to him, the first person who had ever been his friend…

Fianna tried to speak, to comfort him, but no words came out. Her own sight became blurred as more tears came from her eyes.

Rayman limped forward toward Ly, wiping his tears from his eyes. With his wet hand, he lifted Ly's hand. It was still warm. Clutching it to his chest he let his tears flow free.

Fianna clenched her fists. The sorrow inside her was subsiding as more and more anger built up inside her, a rage that she had to concentrate to fight down. The same person who had killed Ly; who had ordered the deaths of her family, who had made Fianna's life a living hell for all those years…

It seemed that whoever it was, was steadily taking away everything she had ever cared for. In the short time that they had known each other, Ly had been like a sister to her. They had formed a bond almost instantly finding it easy to talk…just like sisters. She even looked a lot like her; the resemblance was just as striking in death as in life.

Fianna remembered watching her sister being killed, and weeping over her dead body as those who had killed her went away; she remembered burying her family…she tried to block out those memories but they would not leave her: her elder sister, her mother…her whole family torn away from her. It shouldn't have happened to someone so young; someone of her age shouldn't have had to bury her own mother and father. 

Whoever had killed them would pay. And Fianna would have her vengeance.

--

Rayman felt an empty hole inside him; a huge gaping pit of despair which Ly had previously filled up. As he looked at Ly's dead body he realised that there was movement about him. It was still night…or was it? How long had Rayman been standing here, looking at Ly's body and thinking…

Actually no more then half an hour had passed since Rayman had awoken, but to him it could have been a year. As he turned he wiped the drying tears from his face, and realised that they were getting ready to bury Ly.

They all stood back as Globox wiggled the fingers on his right hand. Evidently, something had happened to him, for he did not need to dance to cause rain-fall now; instead he needed only waggle his fingers.

And indeed a small storm cloud opened up out of nowhere in front of him and started spurting rain. From the ground a small chute appeared, growing into a small tree, but gaining no blossom.

Instead twigs grew toward the floor in a peculiar shape.

Spades.

Rayman understood what was to be done, and he stood by and let Globox, Fianna, and Flaréoné start to dig a small hole in the ground. He grabbed a spade himself and helped them. He tried a smile but it came out feeble and fake.

Before long a small hole had been constructed in the ground, enough for Ly's body to rest in. Rayman swept away the perspiration from his face, and the tears that had newly fallen from his eyes and mingled there.

He turned to Ly's body with a sad, defeated look in his eyes, and lifting her slowly placed her gently into the hole. He began to shovel the earth onto her body. Fianna Flaréoné understood that he had to do so on his own and indicated to Globox to leave him be.

As Rayman saw the earth cover Ly's face, he realised that this would be the last time he would see Ly's face. Sadness etched itself deeper into his soul, and as he turned he felt that he had left a part of himself with Ly in the grave.

--

'He survived.'

'Who?'

'Rayman, who else?'

'So?'

'Is he not our enemy?'

'He is indeed our enemy,'

'S--'

'But not our only enemy…'

'What do you mean?'

'He is not my major concern…'

'What do you mean…?'

'I mean exactly what I say. He doesn't worry me. No, there is another I fear'

'What…? Who do you mean?'

'There is currently no need for you to know. I'll tell you when the time is right.'

'Yes master…'

--

The clearing was bathed in a bright light. The large tree-leaves were green, with a small tint of yellow that was a reflection of the light. Though it was bright in the clearing, it was still night.

And though Flaréoné was on watch, he was not looking out for any enemies.

He was sitting not far from Rayman, and he looked as though he was waiting for something.

A bird was flying around the clearing. There were many peculiarities about this bird. It flew effortlessly, floating around the clearing. Its eyes were a dark black, with yellow where the whites should be. Its head was orange, as was most of the rest of its body. It had a bright orange, red, and yellow glow about it, which became brighter and more yellow as it reached it stomach, then dimmed and turned slowly red again as it reached the tail feathers. The tail feathers were wonderful oranges and yellows; an orange feather between every two yellow feathers.

It also happened to look like it was on fire.

The bird was a phoenix.

Though the phoenix was a creature of fire, it had a free will, and served Flaréoné – the aspect of fire - only because Flaréoné had once saved its life.

Phoenixes did not live in the world Rayman lived in; indeed, they had not been sighted for many a century. The world in which they lived in could only be accessed by a portal-like rift in the worlds. Many of these had been destroyed, but some alive still retained the power to re-open these rifts.

Flaréoné was one of these people.

There was a very powerful connection that existed between the two, Flaréoné and the phoenix, not unlike the one that Furio and Furion had. Flaréoné rarely needed help from the phoenix, and he only called upon it in the direst of needs.

'It will happen tonight.' He whispered, and though he said it to himself, the great bird turned abruptly in mid flight, and landed gracefully on Flaréoné's shoulder. Its shape seemed to adjust so that it could fit comfortably. Phoenix's had no definite shape, but the most common form they took was of the bird.

'Yes…tonight. To have the most powerful effect, it must happen on a very powerfully magical night. Tonight…'

He turned his head and gazed at Rayman where he had slept. There was still a sad look on his face, but his brow was furrowed, and perspiration shone on his face.

He had wanted to keep the watch, but Flaréoné had not let him. Rayman needed rest; physically, mentally and emotionally. He might as well have that rest whilst he could.

It was a magical night. Flaréoné could feel the magic pulsing in the air around him; he could almost breathe it in.

'The time has come…' he spoke to himself. He looked troubled. He had wanted to do this for a long time, yet at the same time he was dreading doing so. Then his face straightened and he stood up.

He stood quite still, as though he had been frozen. It was a small while before anything actually happened. His body seemed to start to flicker in the phoenix's firelight. The flickering became stronger, until it became evident that it was fire.

The fire grew, but never left his body, and didn't even seem to touch the earth beneath him. And still it grew.

It grew until his whole body was on fire. But then the flames began to grow stronger, and before long, Flaréoné's body was completely covered in flame.

A cocoon of fire.

The phoenix continued its patrol, but flying slower. It gazed silently in the trees, keeping an eye out for any creature that might be out there.

The stars went out. Clouds came and covered the moon. The only light now was from the phoenix's body. The clouds began to darken; dawn was close before Flaréoné began finally to emerge from his cocoon.

The flames didn't die down completely; instead they became near invisible and tight to Flaréoné's skin.

But the body that exited the cocoon was not the one that entered it. Flaréoné had changed.

His white skin had darkened slightly, but no the bronze of tan, but rather it was a natural light brown. His blonde hair looked fairer, waving though there was no wind, and in themselves looked like strands of fire. His tunic had disappeared, and he was bare-chested, with yellow-orange trousers covering his legs, with a black belt around his waist. His arms were muscles, and his chest broad. His features had also become clearer, and sharper, making him look more handsome. His face said that he was a young man, no older then thirty winters, but his eyes told a different story. They were the eyes of a person who had lived many a year and had lived to find the wisdom that came with age. His eyes though, his eyes where what made him stand out. They were yellow, in such a way that it seemed as though his pupil was actually split into two parts, narrowly connected.

He turned his eyes to Rayman. His face was no longer furrowed, but his face was still wet with sweat.

'Now it's your turn…'

--

Rayman stood at the edge of a cliff. He knew instantly that this was a dream. He looked down cautiously and saw the sheer drop; higher then Rayman would have believed possible.

He turned around and nearly jumped off the cliff by accident. There was somebody behind him, somebody who he didn't recognise but felt that he should. He was immediately caught by his golden eyes.

He took an involuntary step backwards, and fell off the cliff.

He shut his eyes tight. I'll wake up before I reach the bottom. But as in every dream, he still felt fear of reaching the bottom. A sudden heat was on his back. Have I landed? He opened his eyes carefully and saw that he was…rising.

He turned in mid-air; a curious feeling, and saw that there was what looked like yellow wisps of wind below him. Then he realised that it was fire, heating the air underneath him to make it rise, carrying Rayman.

He jumped off at the cliff. The golden-eyed person spoke.

'Rayman. Welcome. I am Flaréoné. When you wake up I will look like this. Do not be alarmed, this is my normal form.'

Rayman nodded. He didn't feel like talking. Wake up had reminded him of the world outside the dream…He shook himself mentally, and spoke aloud.

'How are you in my dream?'

'It is not a true dream. More of a vision, except you are living in it, and it will not happen in the future. It is happening in your mind. I'm sorry for invading your space, but there was no other way.'

'No other way for what?' Rayman asked. Flaréoné turned his back to Rayman before he answered.

'Remember the powers I gave you earlier this day? I told you that I had given you the powers. They are there inside you waiting to be unleashed.'

He turned suddenly and there was a fireball in his hand. Before Rayman could react, Flaréoné threw the ball at him.

'Ever heard the saying fight fire with fire? Good. You're doing it already.' A skin-tight flame had appeared around Rayman, like the one that Flaréoné had emerged from the cocoon in. the fireball seemed to just dissolve in its wake. 'Yes…good. But if I used a more powerful attack – or if I even charged up that fireball just a little more, your shield would have shattered. You have to work on it.' He turned his back once more and began to walk. 'Follow me.'

Rayman realised that on the cliff he stood on was a hill. He was standing on the lower part at the drop. Flaréoné climbed the hill. He stopped at the top and waited for Rayman to catch up.

'Behold!' Flaréoné said. 'The palace of fire,'

It was indeed a palace of fire. The walls were flames that burned for all eternity, tall and Imposing. Different shades of the flame showed the windows and doors. Flaréoné stopped at the door.

'Step through the flames. They will not harm you unless they are commanded to.' He spoke as though the flames had lives, that they were real living things. Flaréoné stepped through the door. Rayman followed. He felt a curious tingling on his back, and then he was through.

From the inside the walls were wooden, tall, mahogany, carvings decorated the walls. The doors behind them stood at twice his height, tall oak doors with heavy metal handles.

'You told me that you gave me fire powers. Seeing as you're the aspect of fire, that should make sense, but how do I…unlock them? How do I cast the fireball?'

'I'll teach you some of the most basic attacks and forms of defence. The rest will be much more powerful if you work it out yourself.'

'First – as you say – the fireball.' He thought for a second. 'You know how to make a powerball. Well to create a fireball is like creating a powerball, but instead of doing that, picture it on fire, like a fireball. Try it.'

Rayman tried it. The first time he did it, a powerball was created instead. He tried again, and managed to do it correctly.

'Ok, I know that, what else?'

'You know it. Now make it powerful. Break my shield.'

A glow surrounded Flaréoné; a smooth yellow shield that protected him from the fireballs that Rayman created.

Rayman created many fireballs, but none of them broke the shield.

'You power up your powerballs. Try the same with your fireballs.'

Rayman obliged, and the fireball grew in his hand, the heat growing, the fires flickering more dangerously. Rayman let it loose. It landed on Flaréoné's chest part of the shield. The whole thing turned red, but the fireball disappeared and the shield went back to the normal yellow.

'Much better, but not quite there,'

Rayman nodded and tried again. He held it as long as he could; the fireball grew larger then the powerballs were at max power, but it did stop growing eventually. Licks of flame flew out, disappearing into the air; the fire danced chaotically, and Rayman launched it. His hand was pushed backward slightly from the power of the fireball, and the fireball missed and landed on the wall. It went right through.

'Much better. If that got me, the shield would have broken. Concentrate on your hand, make sure it doesn't move, and soon it will be as easy as your powerballs.'

Rayman nodded, and this time he was expecting the rebound, and his hand stayed steady, and it landed again on Flaréoné's chest. The shield imploded, and the fireball whacked Flaréoné.

'Good. Now the defence shield that I made. Concentrate hard on fire, enveloping your body.'

Rayman did so, closing his eyes in concentration. His eyes opened in shock as he realised that he was suddenly surrounded in fire. He felt a sudden sense of de ja vu, and the very hall of the palace seemed like the one in which he had almost died defeating Mr Dark.

Flaréoné's voice came out from beyond the flames. 'Don't be afraid! Ask them to protect you.'

Rayman thought this sounded stupid, but he did so. He was about to ask them out aloud to protect him, but then he realised what Flaréoné meant, and concentrated hard on placing them around him body. They moved at his will, and went around his body. He told them not to harm him and they instead protected him,

But they were not smooth like Flaréoné's and they shattered at the first weak ball that Flaréoné sent.

'How do I make it strong and smooth?'

'More flames.'

Rayman concentrated again, his brow furrowed, and this time the flames knew what to do and came quicker and protected him straight away. Flaréoné had to make a big ball like Rayman's to break it.

'Good enough. There's another shield, much easier, and much more efficient. Especially against fire.'

'Tell me.'

'Ok. Look into your mind. The knowledge of everything that I gave you is locked in your brain. You need to find it, and unlock it. Gharsgash.'

The last word triggered something in Rayman's mind, and he knew what he had to do. A special type of fire was needed, and only one flame large enough to cover his body. He even knew how to make it, and what it did.

'How did you do that?'

'When I gave you the power, I gave you the knowledge to use it. I also made sure that if I spoke a certain word, a certain piece of information would be unlocked. It worked. Try it.'

Rayman concentrated on the certain fire. A huge flame appeared in front of him, a dark orange one, and it immediately covered Rayman's skin, very close fitting. Flaréoné powered up a fireball and shot it at the shield. The shield went a bright red, but then it went orange again, except a little more intense, and a little more powerful. It had absorbed the fire, strengthening the shield at the same time.

'Good! That was excellent! Now we have a short dual; practice what you've learned.'

Rayman started off trying to make the first shield, but as he was trying to get the flames under control, Flaréoné let off a small fireball and Rayman was forced to dodge out of the way. The flames stood standing, and quite by accident, Rayman learned how to move them around, not unlike the ones Mr. Dark had used on him.

Rayman remembered that Mr. Dark had been able to summon them just by looking at a spot in the ground. Rayman concentrated on a piece of the floor and made a flame come up out of there.

Suddenly a fire appeared in front of Rayman. It was not hot at all, in fact it was pleasantly warm, but it gave off a thick black smoke. Rayman tried to imitate it, but only a small amount of smoke came out, and the fire was small. Rayman remembered how to make it, and promised himself that he would learn how to do it properly. It would be a good help.

Though the smoke obscured his vision, it also prevented Flaréoné seeing what he was doing. He made a few more fires, then, making them follow him, he leapt out of the smoke, surprising Flaréoné and throwing fireball after fireball at him.

H threw a fist, and absentmindedly, he made it into a fire-fist, his normal fist with fire speeding it up, and also increasing the impact damage. It sped straight through Flaréoné's shield, and sent him flying into the wall. Shocked, he stayed lying where he was against the wall. He didn't know that Rayman would be able to do that.

Rayman sent his flames to surround Flaréoné, and then asked him if he surrendered.

 'I surrender. Congratulations.'

Rayman smiled, and helped him up.

'We'd better be getting back…' Flaréoné said.

Rayman nodded. His despair returned. He had tried to forget that Ly was dead, but he couldn't. He nodded again, and pushed the door open. As he exited it, he woke up. He saw Flaréoné's new form in the centre of the clearing.

With a phoenix on his soldier.

Rayman walked over to it. Its beautiful…he thought. He reached out a tentative hand, and touched its warm wings. It swung its head over to him, and its eyes seemed to smile.

'He likes you.' Smiled Flaréoné. Rayman smiled back.

Fianna woke from where she had slept. She walked warily to Flaréoné, and looked at the phoenix.

'Hello Flaréoné. I see that you've reverted to your original form. Good, maybe we could fend off the attacks better.'

'How did you know?' asked Flaréoné, startled.

'I can read minds. Well sort of anyway; I can only know what you want me to now. You wanted tot ell us that you would revert to your normal form, but you couldn't. I knew like that. I could do it since I was a small child. Sometimes its really easy, but most of the time I have to concentrate to do it. She reached out a confident hand, and stroked the bird absently.'

Globox woke up then.

'Hello.' He said, in a dull tone. He looked at Flaréoné. 'Who are you?'

'Its Flaréoné, Globox,' Fianna and Rayman said at the same time.

'Oh…how come you look so different?'

'I changed my looks.' He said smiling slightly.

'Oh…ok,' Globox looked slightly confused. 'That's a nice bird.' He said, trying to make conversation, but he didn't really feel like talking, and neither did anyone else.

It was still dark. Rayman looked up and realised that it was day, but heavy clouds had appeared, threatening rain, and blotting out the sun.

'We really should get going,' he said, pointedly looking at the sky. Flaréoné looked up and nodded.

'This way.' He said, leading the way away from the clearing. As Rayman stepped out into the trees, he took one last private, mournful look at the clearing.

The clearing where Ly had died…the clearing where Ly was buried.

He looked away with a sad look on his face again. He walked on again, following behind Flaréoné.

--

Traid was worried. He felt that something was going to happen, but he didn't know what, he had an apprehensive feeling. He had learned to trust his feelings.

People had begun to disappear around the valley of the freelings – newly dubbed the free valley – and he was beginning to think that it was too much of a coincidence.

He thought at first that people where getting lost in the strange forests, but then a small child had been reported missing from his home at night, a young man going for some water and not coming back…

He sincerely hoped that there were no people, no slave-drivers, waiting around for revenge. Or worse.

He could easily hold his own in a fight, being a very powerful shaman, and also having been a hunter and warrior for a short time. He knew that there were many experienced fighters amongst the freelings, and many that had potential to become good fighters. He knew that the freelings wouldn't have too much trouble taking care of a gang of slave-drivers, but even so, he had never liked fighting, and always preferred any other way.

Or maybe he was just over-reacting to a small matter. He sighed, trying to decide what to do. The valley was a new settlement, not quite a community yet; though some groups of people knew each other from before being slaves, or met new people whilst they were slaves.

He decided that it would be safest to send off a small search party to try and find the missing people, but he would make sure that they were decent fighters before they went. Better safe then sorry.

He called for some fighters that he knew. Three Muddies came soon enough, all three of them stout and good fighters. One of them was a good magic-caster too. He called some fighting Teensies, four in all, stout spears in their hands. He also sent an element that he created with his own magic. He needed to stay here, but he could also see and speak via the element.

He sent off the small group with simple instructions. 'Find the missing people, and report back when you find them. Any person there not meant to be there was to be captured – not harmed in any way unless they attacked first. Capture them if you can, but defend yourself if necessary.'

The group nodded and trouped out of the valley.