Disclaimer: I only own the stuff that I came up with. Yes, we know…

Chapter 8—Watchful Eyes

What little sleep Dayn got was riddled with a jumble of nightmare images and memories from his childhood. He'd awoken with memories of that nightmare voyage to Britain so long ago and his first meeting with Arthur…

Dayn huddled in the corner of the ship's hold, shivering from the cold that he couldn't seem to shake. Alone where the soldiers had left him, he felt more afraid than ever. He'd never been alone before, which made Orren's absence even more painful. Tears had long since dried on his dirt-streaked face, and Dayn bit his lip as more tears threatened to fall. He was tired, but the motion of the ship scared him, making him afraid to sleep. He'd never been on a boat before, and the rocking of the ship on the waves made him nervous, not to mention slightly ill. His hands were tied in front of him, the ropes biting into his wrists painfully. He couldn't remember them binding his hands, nor did he remember being brought onto the ship. He recalled lunging for Orren's fallen dagger, yelling with rage as he attacked the soldier who had killed his twin. Things were fuzzy after that, and by the time Dayn had come back to awareness, he was here in the ship's hold. He could hear the soldiers above him, and his fists clenched angrily.

"Should someone check on the boy?" Dayn held his breath, hoping they wouldn't come, desperately wishing to be left alone.

"No, leave him. He's like a wild animal—he's liable to attack if you get near."

"Ha—Claudius found that out the hard way, didn't he? I laughed my ass off. Once Claudius had left, mind you." They both chuckled, and Dayn slowly relaxed as he realized that they weren't going to bother him. He didn't even know where they were going. He felt a wave of helplessness wash over him as he realized the boat was taking him farther and farther from everything he knew. He drew his knees up to his chest, dropping his head as he struggled not to succumb to the tears that welled up in his eyes.


A boot caught Dayn in the small of his back, sending him sprawling down the gangplank of the ship as the soldiers took a more leisurely route off the ship. Dayn rolled to a stop, and slowly crawled to his hands and knees in the cold, wet grass. Anger tightened his throat, and he struggled to climb to his feet. Before he could gain his footing, however, a booted foot caught him in the side. He struggled to hold back tears, just as he had for the past month as he'd been dragged away from his home to travel across both land and sea.

"Captain, restrain yourself or I will do it for you." The voice came from Dayn's left, and he turned his head to see a young man in Roman armor coming toward them, a group of teenage boys of varying ages behind him.

"I brought another Sarmatian lap dog for you, Commander," Claudius said, ignoring the reprimand. Dayn noticed the hostile glares of the boys, and felt a little less alone than before.

"Are you robbing mothers of their children, now, Captain?"

"The bitch that whelped this one couldn't pay her taxes." Fury welled up inside Dayn, and he rushed to his feet, hurling himself at Claudius with a bellow of rage. A sharp cuff to the side of the head dropped him, and he lay stunned, feeling the cool grass beneath his cheek.

"Hey, you alright?" Dayn blinked as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw a tall boy of about seventeen years gazing compassionately down at him. Much to his shame, Dayn's eyes filled with tears, and he wiped at his face as best he could with his hands tied, embarrassed by the display of emotion. "It's alright, boy." He smiled softly, helping Dayn to sit up, as the other boys formed a loose circle around the two of them, standing against any Roman interference. The Roman soldiers slowly retreated, grumbling as they headed for the nearest tavern for refreshment. The man in Roman armor approached, and Dayn shrunk away as the man knelt down in front of him.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore," he said with a friendly smile. "My name is Arthur…"

"Dayn, hurry it up! Arthur's waiting," Lancelot called out from the doorway of the stables, snapping Dayn out of his reverie.

"Yeah, I'm coming," he hollered back. "It's not as if Arthur's going to leave without us," Dayn mumbled under his breath as he slowly swung himself into the saddle. "It's too damn early…why we can't leave at a decent time," he grumbled, continuing his rant.

They rode out at dawn, the rising sun at their backs as they galloped out of the fort. Dayn and Tristan trailed the group from behind, their exhaustion evident. And we have absolutely nothing to show for it, Dayn thought scornfully. With no trace of Niamh, they had had no choice but to leave. The entire group was subdued, as most of them were convinced that they were on a suicide mission. Even Bors was quiet, his usual boisterous mood suppressed.

Dayn, too, remained doubtful about their ability to survive this mission. He knew the odds of a Woad attack, better than the others. Though the Woad tribe closest to the wall wouldn't bother them, those tribes that were further north could give them trouble. As much as he hated to, Dayn knew that he would kill any Woad who threatened him or any of the other knights. He felt the continuous strain of an internal struggle—to kill the Woads, who he considered to be his own people, in order to save his brothers in arms. The tribe he considered his own knew what he would do if confronted with hostile Woads who threatened the lives of him or any of his own, and they avoided confrontations with the Sarmatians accordingly. Dayn was grateful, for he didn't want to face the moment where he would be forced to choose between the Woads and the knights. Only fools from his tribe would still attack the Sarmatians now, for well they knew that the odds were against them. He just hoped Illbrech could keep the more reckless tribesmen from trying anything foolish.


Arthur couldn't rid himself of the cold feeling in his gut, the one that told him that this mission was a mistake. But there's nothing I can do to change anything, he told himself sternly. Orders were orders, and if they refused, his knights would be forced to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives, pursued by the relentless Roman army. Still, the odds of them successfully pulling off this mission were slim. Bors' words from the night before caused an ache in his heart, for he couldn't help but wonder if the others truly believed that he cared more for the Romans than he did his own men. He was still mulling over it when he called for a halt a few hours later. He didn't want to exhaust the horses, and the men could use a break from the saddle. He sat down on the grass, resting his elbows on his knees as he contemplated the words that had cut through him so deeply.

He looked up when Lancelot sat down beside him, a questioning look on his face.

"Arthur, what is it?"

"Nothing," he said, running his fingers along the grass beside him.

"Is this another one of those moments where you'd rather speak to your invisible god than speak to me," Lancelot said angrily.

"Lancelot…"

"Arthur, your faith is your own business. But how can you just ignore the flesh and blood around you? I'm your friend, Arthur. If you won't tell me anything, how can I help you?" Arthur sighed, gripping the blades of grass between his fingers, before releasing them to look at Lancelot.

"Do the others think so little of me, that they truly believe that I would ask them to spill their blood if I didn't have to?"

"Arthur, of what do you speak?"

"Bors. You heard him last night. Does he honestly think that I would see any of you die if I could stop it?"

"He meant nothing by it, Arthur. You should not let it trouble you. He was upset, is all. Give him some time, and he'll be back to his usual drunken self—you'll see." Giving him a slap on the shoulder, Lancelot rose to his feet and walked back to where the others were milling around, leaving Arthur to stare after him. Behind him, Arthur could hear the muffled conversations of some of the knights, and he turned to listen as Cei's words reached his ears.

"So, what do you think our odds of survival are?"

"If I knew that, I probably would have wagered on it with some unsuspecting Romans and made a profit," Caderyn said with a grin.

"No, seriously…do you think we'll all make it back alive?"

"Cei, it's not like you to worry over such nonsense," Aldric said from a few feet away.

"Yes, well…this is different, you know? We're so close to our freedom. I just worry that I might not be around to enjoy it," he said, looking worriedly at his feet. "Nevermind," he mumbled, turning to walk away from the group.

"What's with him," Caderyn asked, cocking an eyebrow at Cei's behavior.

"Leave him alone, Caderyn," Aldric murmured.

"What? I'm just saying, it's not like him to act worried about a fight. He's a good warrior—he has nothing to worry about."

"Look, no one is going to die—you all worry over nothing," Lancelot said impatiently.

"So, you speak for the gods now do you," Aldric said, turning his stern gaze on Lancelot.

"What are you talking about?"

"It is not our place to speak of who will live and who will die. That is the responsibility of the gods, and angry they become when we endeavor to take their place."

"Whatever you say, old man," Lancelot said with a teasing smile. Shaking his head, he walked away to stretch his legs, leaving Aldric to gaze after him disapprovingly.

"Mark my words, the gods won't stand for a mortal to trifle with their affairs." Caderyn shared a look with Dagonet and Bors who stood nearby before he walked off in pursuit of Lancelot.

Dayn and Tristan were taking advantage of the stop by catching up on some sleep, even though their break wouldn't be long. Some sleep was better than no sleep. It felt like only moments had passed when Bors shook them awake.

"Come on, boys, it's time we set off again." Groaning, Dayn sat up, pushing a hand through his hair wearily.

"Tristan, next time I agree to come with you on a fruitless search for a woman, remind me not to," Dayn grumbled.

"No one twisted your arm."

"Well, I couldn't very well let you search for her alone. You could have gotten into trouble."

"And do you think me incapable of taking care of myself?"

"Of course not. I just wanted to be in on it if you got to kill anyone," Dayn replied with a grin. Tristan gave him a hint of a smile before he came to his feet and walked toward his horse, whistling for his hawk.


Tristan rode to the head of the column, taking his usual position as lead despite his exhaustion. Tired or not, he had never let anything interfere with his scouting, and he didn't plan to start now. They hadn't traveled very far when he suddenly stiffened. Spurring his horse, he steered out of the column and raced for the tree line. Arthur called out behind him, but Tristan didn't slow, leaving Arthur no choice but to follow him. They raced after Tristan, watching as he pulled his horse to a halt at the trees, and knelt down by something. As they reigned up behind him, Dayn saw what it was that held his attention so much.

"Niamh," he said, shocked to see her.

Niamh lay in a heap, as Tristan reached a hand out to gently touch her shoulder. With a gasp she came awake, scooting away from Tristan's hand. Dayn slid off his horse, coming to stand behind Tristan, stepping aside to give Arthur room to step up beside him. He winced when he saw Niamh's face. Her face was bruised, her left eye almost swollen shut, and her lip was split. A pair of shackles secured her to a stake driven into the ground, and Dayn could tell that it was driven in deep enough that Niamh hadn't had a chance of removing it.

As she realized who knelt at her side, she suddenly threw herself at Tristan, sobbing with relief.

"I need someone's sword," Tristan said, his arms automatically going around Niamh, much to the surprise of the other knights. Tristan wasn't exactly known for displays of affection. Arthur drew his sword and held it out to Tristan hilt-first. Tristan tried to stand, but Niamh clung to him, squeezing him as though he alone could keep her safe. Tristan looked up at Arthur, a silent question in his eyes, and without a word, Arthur nodded and taking his sword by the hilt once more, took a half-step back, bringing his sword up as Dayn hurried forward to grip the chain that held Niamh to the ground. Motioning to Galahad to grab another portion of the chain, they pulled it taut as Arthur swung Excalibur, slicing thorough the chain as though it were nothing more than a simple thread.

With a shudder, Niamh tried to suppress her sobs, still refusing to relinquish her hold on Tristan. He came to his feet with Niamh in his arms as he faced Arthur. "I can take her back to the wall, and catch up with you."

"It's too far for you to do that, Tristan. There's no way you could catch up with us, not at the rate we're traveling."

"We can't leave her here alone."

"No, that's not an option either."

"So, what, we're taking her with us," Lancelot asked incredulously.

"I don't see that we have much choice in the matter. We can't spare anyone to take her back, and we can't leave her here to be preyed upon by Woads."

"Looks to me as though the Woads aren't really the problem here, Arthur," Dayn sneered. "Those are Roman chains. Woads prefer rope."

"How do you know that," Cei asked curiously. Think fast, Dayn.

"Everyone knows that, Cei," he said, injecting confidence into his voice. If he sounded confident enough, no one would question him. He saw Tristan's eyebrow shoot up, as he heard his brash statement, but Dayn ignored it, knowing that Tristan wouldn't say anything. At least not in front of the others. And none of the others would question him, because they wouldn't want to seem ignorant in front of their fellow knights.

"Arthur," Lancelot exclaimed in exasperation, obviously not through arguing. Tristan carried Niamh past Lancelot, not caring about Lancelot's apparent misgivings. Tristan was going to do what Tristan wanted to do; Lancelot didn't even figure into it. Lance is such an argumentative bastard, Dayn thought with an amused grin. But then again, the same could be said for me. But Arthur looked none too eager to deal with it today.

"We will argue this no more, Lancelot. Now mount up," he said sternly. As the others began to follow Tristan's lead, Dayn hurried to follow suit. The delay had cost them, and they pushed the horses for the rest of the afternoon. They stopped just outside the woods, Arthur having decided that it would be safer to wait until morning to enter Woad territory.

Niamh was quiet throughout the long day, sleeping through most of the journey secure against Tristan's chest. As eager as he was to get answers to the questions swirling in his mind, Tristan did not push Niamh to speak of what had brought her to be chained up in the wilderness. She showed no inclination to speak of her ordeal, so he decided to refrain from questioning her until she'd had time to cope. His arms circled her waist, holding her to him so that no harm would come to her. When the weary band finally came to a stop for the night, she was startled awake when Tristan slid off the horse, his comforting warmth and support suddenly missing. He reached his arms up, and she went into them gratefully, allowing him to lift her away from the saddle.

Dayn watched as Tristan set up his bedroll for Niamh to lie on, knowing that Tristan could just as easily sleep on the ground as he did on the bedroll. Sitting down by the fire that Gawain had started, Dayn nudged Bors and nodded in the direction of Tristan.

"Well, Bors, the question becomes, will Tristan sleep on the ground tonight, or will he be joining Niamh in the bedroll?" Bors glanced over to where Tristan was tucking his cloak around Niamh as she snuggled inside the bedroll. Looking back at Dayn, Bors gave him a wide grin.

"If he doesn't share the bedroll, then he's a stupider man than I thought."

Tristan glanced up, as though he knew they were talking about him, and fixed them with a cold stare. Quickly, Dayn and Bors turned back to the fire, snickering at Tristan's discomfort. As the other knights set out their own bedrolls, the long day began to take its toll, and it wasn't long before conversation dwindled, and sleep fell over them before Dayn and Bors could see where Tristan bedded down for the night.


As they entered the woods early the next morning, Niamh shivered, and she pressed back in the saddle against Tristan's chest. His arms tightened around her, and he spoke quietly in her ear, startling her.

"What's wrong?"

"This forest…it frightens me. There are tales told of this forest. Strange things happen here, I have heard."

"Think nothing of it. You will come to no harm," Tristan murmured. Dayn rode up beside them then, obviously overhearing their murmured conversation, and he leaned towards Niamh with a comforting smile on his face.

"You have nothing to fear in these woods, Niamh. The Woads don't make war on women and children. That is the business of the Romans."

"How do you know this?"

"I have my ways," he said with cockiness in his voice. Giving her a playful grin, he slipped back into line. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, Tristan spurred his horse, riding ahead to take the lead. Because Tristan was a scout, Niamh would probably be better off riding with one of the others, but Tristan found himself surprisingly reluctant to let her go. Besides, with this bunch, he didn't trust anyone not to try something. Everyone could see that Caderyn was an insufferable flirt, and Lancelot would bed any female within arm's reach. No, it wouldn't be wise to trust her with one of the others.

They had been riding for some time when Tristan felt eyes on him. He reined his horse in, and Arthur pulled his horse to a stop right behind him.

"Tristan, what is it?"

"We are watched, Arthur."

"Woads?"

"Must be. Saxons haven't made it this far south yet."

The time approaches. Dayn heard the voice on the wind, and a chill came over him. Alright, Merlin, you mysterious bastard. So the time approaches…but what am I supposed to do about it?

Dayn felt it then, the almost imperceptible shift in the air that told him they were no longer alone. He knew when the Woads were watching, and they were most certainly watching now. This far north, it would have to be some of Merlin's band. Hopefully, they weren't here to cause trouble.

"We should not linger. Woads. They're tracking us," Dayn heard Tristan tell Arthur.

"Where," Arthur asked.

"Everywhere," Tristan answered, and Dayn knew that he was right. The horses, too, sensed that something was happening, and Dayn moved to sooth Brina as the hidden figures in the trees spooked her. Suddenly, arrows shot out of the mist-shrouded trees, cutting off the path in front of them.

Dayn started to yell to everyone to hold their positions, but Lancelot and Bors began yelling at everyone to get back. Arthur spun his horse around, and charged in the opposite direction, the knights right behind him. With a sigh, Dayn spurred his horse to follow, hoping that he could get Arthur's attention and get everyone to halt. Arrows continued to fly, cutting off every path until they were forced to a stop. The knights began to draw their weapons, preparing for battle, despite the fact that they were outnumbered.

"What are you waiting for," Gawain yelled, anxious to meet the Woads in battle.

Just when Dayn thought that he'd have to use his knowledge of the Celtic tongue to warn them off, a horn sounded in the distance. Dayn sighed in relief, putting his sword away as the signal for retreat reverberated through the trees. As the Woads disappeared back into the mist that they'd come out of, Tristan glanced over at Dayn, struck with suspicion. Dayn knew it was safe to sheath his sword before their retreat. How did he know?


Could this journey get any worse, Arthur thought as they left the woods behind them for the valleys and the mountain passes. A woman with them, the ever-growing presence of Woads…things couldn't get much worse.

The trees hadn't even sunk below the horizon behind them, when Lancelot paused at the rear of the column. He swung his horse around, reversing his direction. With a wave to Arthur to hold up, he rode back towards the trees, his gaze sharpening on a row of shrubbery at the tree line. There, he thought with satisfaction. Arthur and the knights had reigned in their horses, waiting to see what had captured Lancelot's attention.

Drawing one of his swords, Lancelot neared the bushes on foot, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He reached out swiftly, grabbing at a small figure concealed within the shrubs and yanking.

Dayn's eyes widened as the cloak around the person's face fell back, and he spurred his horse forward as Lancelot brought his sword to bear on the figure at his feet. Another figure, a man, broke through the underbrush, bringing his own sword to bear just in time to meet Lancelot's. The man moved protectively in front of the smaller figure, his meaning clear, and terror struck Dayn, as he suddenly realized who the man was.

"Tadhg,no," Dayn shouted, knowing that if Tadhg moved to strike, Lancelot would cut him down with relative ease. Tadhg was a good fighter, but he was no match for Lancelot's skill with a blade. Vaguely aware of the knights following him, he raced forward, silently urging his horse to go faster.

Lancelot stepped back, freeing his sword as he slowly sized up his opponent. This one would be no difficulty, he thought as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. He heard Dayn yell something, but ignored him as the man came at him with a broad swing of his sword. Lancelot easily sidestepped, the sword passing harmlessly through the air in front of him. Seeing an opening, he thrust his sword, knowing before he even pulled his blade back, that he had struck a killing blow. As the man fell, Lancelot backed away as Dayn ran up beside him, grief stricken.

"Tadhg," he murmured, kneeling next to the fallen figure. He looked up at Lancelot, a look of pain and confusion on his face that Lancelot didn't understand. Right then, a sound of sorrow came from the small figure still lying on the ground, and Lancelot turned, bringing his sword up.

"Dayn, what ails you," Gawain asked, coming up beside Lancelot.

Dayn said nothing, only staring down at the fallen Tadhg in shock. How did this happen? Why was he here—he shouldn't have been here.

"Come, Dayn, it was just a Woad," Lancelot said, goodnaturedly. Right then, Dayn began to stand, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword that hung in a scabbard across his back.

"Are you going to draw on me, Dayn?" Dayn took a threatening step towards Lancelot, and it must have finally dawned on Lancelot that Dayn was deadly serious.

"What is going on here," Arthur asked, putting himself between Lancelot and Dayn. "We don't have time for this nonsense, and I grow weary of breaking up fights between the two of you."

"Don't look at me, Arthur," Lancelot said, his eyes staying locked on Dayn. "He started this fray."

"And you did nothing to taunt him?"

"I but killed a Woad, Arthur, nothing more."

"I have a better question, Arthur. What do we do with the other one," Caderyn broke in.

Other one? Dayn ripped his gaze away from Lancelot to peer at the other Woad that huddled on the ground at Caderyn's feet. Caderyn gave Arthur a questioning look as he held his sword on the Woad who appeared to be of little threat to the knights. Dayn's eyes widened as he suddenly recognized the cloaked figure for who it was.

Rushing forward, he knocked Caderyn's sword away from the small Woad, and spun around to come face to face with the one person he had not expected to see.

The figure's hood fell back, and Orainne's thick auburn hair spilled out to fall down her back. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she came into his arms as she was wracked with sobs. Dayn's arms tightened around her, as he felt his own grief at the loss of Tadhg well up. He kissed the top of her head, rocking her back and forth as she cried into the front of his tunic. "Shhh," he whispered to her.

"Please don't let them kill me, Dayn," she said brokenly.

"You know I would not let you come to harm," he said, slipping into Celtic with the ease of one who has been speaking it for many years.

"Dayn, how do you know this girl," Arthur asked, his eyes meeting Dayn's over Orainne's head.

"It's a long story, Arthur."

"That's not an answer, Dayn."

"Fine, then. She's my lover. Are you satisfied?"

"Uh, Dayn…" Bors cut in, scratching his head with the tip of a dagger. "She's a Woad."

"Thank you, Bors. I know that," he replied sarcastically.

"How long have you been in league with the Woads?" Lancelot spoke up angrily.

"For three years," Tristan said quietly, before Dayn could respond to Lancelot's question.

"How long have you known?" Dayn asked, his eyes meeting Tristan's.

"You aren't exactly known for your stealth. It was obvious that you were leaving the garrison. I just didn't count on the Woads factoring into your excursions outside the Wall."

"You've known he was sneaking off, and yet you said nothing," Arthur said, his gaze turning to Tristan.

"Didn't figure it was any of my business," Tristan said without apology. Tristan never apologized for his actions, nor did he feel compelled to at any time. "Besides, you never asked."

"What is she doing here," Galahad asked. "And who was the man with her?"

"Orainne," Dayn murmured questioningly. "Why were you and Tadhg here? You're far out of our territory."

"We were sent to warn you," she said in a halting voice.

"What do you mean?"

"We received word that there were Saxon patrols this far south. Illbrech wanted you to be warned to look out for them."

"Saxons? They can't be this far south. Was he sure of the messenger?"

"The message was sent by Merlin himself, Dayn." Dayn relayed the conversation to the other knights, and Arthur's brow wrinkled in worry.

"If they only came to warn us, then why didn't they just show themselves," Lancelot said accusingly.

"Oh come off it, Lance! Had they approached us openly, you would have slaughtered both of them just as quickly as you killed Tadhg—without warning. You wouldn't have waited to hear anything they said."

"If you're waiting for me to apologize for my actions, Dayn, then you'll be waiting for eternity. I did what needed to be done. You're the only one who seems to have a problem with it. And that's because you've been working with the enemy. How far does your betrayal of us go?"

"I betrayed no one," Dayn yelled. "I've always stood for all of you!"

"I hate to point out the obvious, gentlemen," Aldric said, interrupting, "but we really don't have time for this."

"You're right, of course. Dayn, Lancelot, that's enough. We'll work this out later. Right now, we have a mission to complete. And if what the girl says is true, then our need for haste is of even more importance."

"So, what do we do with the Woad," Gawain asked, his gaze going to the shaking girl whose face remained buried in Dayn's chest. Dayn unconsciously rubbed her back, trying to soothe her, as his blazing eyes met Gawain's in an unspoken promise of retaliation should the knight pose any sort of threat to Orainne.

"I'm just guessing here, but I think Dayn wants her alive," Caderyn said with a grin.

"She's free to go this time. But make certain that she does not cross our path again. I don't trust Woads."

"I will not leave her here alone, Arthur. You heard what she said—there are Saxons about."

"She's a warrior. She'll be alright, so long as she does not tarry," Arthur said, moving to mount his horse.

"She's not a warrior, Arthur."

"I thought all their women fought," Cei said, his face questioning.

"Look at her, Cei. She barely reaches my shoulder—she's too small to pose a threat. She can barely hold a sword, much less swing one. And her aim with a bow is disastrous. That's why she's apprenticed to the healer. Arthur," he said, turning his attention back to the stoic leader, "please. I can't leave her. She'll be defenseless. Tadhg is no longer alive to protect her, thanks to Lancelot."

"I suppose you want to bring her along?"

"Yes," he murmured, his eyes pleading with his commander to grant his request.

"Very well. But you're responsible for her. And she must not interfere with our duty."

"Yes, Arthur. I understand."

I was wrong, Arthur thought grimly, as Dayn led the girl away. Things can get worse.


A/N: I was a bit saddened by the lack of reviews last time…I'm hoping that its just the weird problems that were going on with the network, and not a sign of lagging interest in my story. So, please review! Renew my hope in humanity!

chiefhow: I hope you did your happy dance for this chapter as well! If it's anything like my roommate's happy dance, then I imagine it is very entertaining. I know you were wondering about Niamh—I hope the lack of explanation for her being in the middle of nowhere doesn't bother you too much—I plan to pull the explanation in during another chapter.

Shallindra: Sorry for making you wait on updates—I have to squeeze story-writing time in between studying. I should be studying for my history exam right now, but I really wanted to finish up this chapter. Oh, and fear not—I don't have any plans of killing Tristan off. I hope that wasn't a spoiler for chapters to come…but I just can't kill Tristan off! Anyways, I hope the wait was worth it! Please keep reading and updating for me!

ModestySparrow9: I don't know if you got my email, but I sure hope so…anyways, I forgot to address some of the things you mentioned last time…first, I haven't seen The Grudge, yet—I'm not brave enough to want to see that one in a theater. But Darkness looks really interesting—comes out on Christmas Day in theaters, but I hesitate to see it for the same reason I hesitate to see The Grudge. I think I see Dayn a little bit more like Shane West actually, but it's a tough call—it's hard for me to picture someone as my character like that. If I had to say who Orainne looked like, I'd probably say she looks a bit like that singer JoJo. What do you think? Anyways, please review for me—hope to hear from you!