Of Beast And Blade

by Scribbler

[AU] In a distant realm where sword and sorcery rule, unlikely heroes have been chosen to save their world. [Ch20: Ororo finally shows her true colours. Meanwhile, Tabby's dramatic appearance in the fight against Sabertooth may be a double edged sword]

18. Prophecy Revealed

DISCLAIMER: X-Men: Evo belongs to Warner Bros. And Marvel Comics. I have never, and shall never own them, no matter how much I may want to. I've simply warped them to fit my own twisted mind. However, this fic and any original work herein is officially mine, and anyone trying to steal it will find out how painful a weapon a computer mouse can when used by someone with imagination.

WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film project, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* those movies. Influences rather include InterNutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.

CODES:

Hello = Narration

_Hello_ = Thought

"Hello" = Character Speaking

*Hello* = Bold

//Hello// = Psychic communication

A/N ~ Many thanks to UnknownSource, Cheesy Monkey, Ezrajade, Greer/Harry Wriggle, Klutz, Quill of Molliemon, ChaosCat, Ashika, Marian, Silver Warrior, AerinBrown, Creedman and Mag for reviewing last time. What can I say? I got sidetracked by other projects. Plus, there's that pesky degree that keeps getting in the way of more important things, like fanfic. Anyway, apologies for not updating for so long. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait, since it's pretty much a nexus for the whole plot. This is the chapter on which the rest of the fic hinges, so pay attention. Please return your seats to their upright position, buckle your safety belts, and don't forget to review on your way out. Thank you for flying Scribbler Airlines. Have a nice day, now.

*******************

'Of Beast and Blade' By Scribbler

Chapter Sixteen ~ 'Prophecy Revealed'

*******************

'It is a mistake to try to look too far ahead. The chain of destiny can only be grasped one link at a time.' -- Sir Winston Churchill

*******************

The Silver Sword peered intently into his Seeing Portal. To the untrained eye it would have seemed no more than a battered old mirror, edged in faded gold leaf with a multi-forked crack running its length. Yet, to him, it was his eyes, ears and sometimes even his voice beyond Belvedere. Through it, he could see any part of Earth-Realm he desired, provided it wasn't protected by magick that he could not breach.

A growl escaped his throat.

The Temple of The Way was concealed by powerful magicks. Perhaps not as strong as his own, true, but certainly potent enough to render him blind when scrying for it.

He turned away, cloak scraping the floor in a magnificent swish. He had an idea of the location, but other than that he knew precious little about that wretched place, other than it posed a very real danger to him and his plans. One didn't have to be a sorcerer to see that much.

His army had been dispatched three days ago, and in the interim he'd received word that Emilios and his band were nearing their target. A swift message to the assassin had told him all he needed to know about the state his prey was in, and he was only too eager to aid The Silver Sword in destroying The Rogue's two companions in addition to her. Emilios generally liked showing his gratitude to the sorcerer who'd enhanced him. That this instance involved copious bloodshed was an extra bonus.

The Silver Sword paused for a second, wondering if it would be better just to let the assassins take care of things on their own. Though he was often loath to admit it, they were much more efficient than his own troops, and had the benefit of experience in this sort of thing on their side. What contingent of the Silver Army was still at Belvedere were mainly conscripted males with little fighting knowledge beyond childhood tussles over females. However, he'd been pushed for time and forced to resort to them, since the majority of his forces were extending his reach into far flung lands. Still, he'd sent along a few Changelings of his own, just in case. It didn't pay to take anything for granted.

He shook the errant thought away. His army was under strict instructions to simply do as much damage to the temple, and kill as many inhabitants, as they could. Hopefully, their efforts would cripple the infernal place, making the residents easy targets for a later by more proficient troops.

A sneer crawled across his lip. The Temple Mother would be easy pickings then; so preoccupied with gathering together survivor. He was certain she'd let her defences slide at that most vulnerable instant. She had to. He'd spent so much time investigating her, learning of her and her past, that he didn't even entertain the thought that she could do anything different. That would be the time for him to strike.

The sneer turned into a horrible smirk at the prospect of having the great Ororo the White completely at his mercy. After all, it wasn't every man who could claim to have taken on...

The door across the room banged open. A slave hurried in, falling respectfully to his knees near the entrance.

"Oh great and masterful lord," he respectfully began, but the Silver Sword cut him off with a roar.

"How dare you enter my private chambers uninvited? Even those of high rank fear to approach this place unsolicited. Is your brain too addled to heed their actions, or do you think yourself better than them? I should slay you now for your sheer insolence."

The slave covered his head in panic. "Please, sir, I only bring a message from the Menagerie Keeper. I ain't meaning no disrespect, sir. Honest, I ain't. You are my sun, my light, my deepest darkness. You're my everything, from when I wake to when I fall asleep at night - "

"A message from Gerris?" The Silver Sword's tone turned puzzled. "He dares interrupt me for a second time? What is this message, boy? Speak quickly, or I shall burn out your tongue and keep it as a memento."

The effect was electric, if not particularly favourable. "H-he says… he says…"

The Silver Sword's hand strayed to the pouch at his belt, which everyone knew contained his magic crystals and powders. Many were the times he'd created spectacular explosions with its contents. Those in the sculleries still talked of the 'Belly of Worms' incident, whereby one of their number had run afoul of him and choked to death on a mouthful of maggots that crawled up from her stomach.

The slave gabbled what he'd been told as fast as he could, words tripping over each other in his haste to get them out. "He… he said to tell you that she - The Rogue, that is - I mean… His bird, the raven told him that, well… she's awake, sir. Came to in the past few hours and getting stronger with every one. He thinks she'll be on the move soon, sir." He cowered in fear of retribution for the news. It didn't matter to the Silver Sword that he was only a messenger. Slaves had been murdered in this gods-forsaken fortress for much less.

Yet, the expected strike didn't come. When he finally risked a wary glance, the slave saw the tyrant in quiet contemplation, stroking his chin with one hand.

"Awake?" he murmured reflectively. "Ach, I should've known she wouldn't fall so easily. He *did* tell me she was made of sterner stuff, after all, and he should know her best. It seems I misjudged his judgment on this matter…" A slight chuckle sounded deep in his throat. "Well, well, Rogue. It would seem you still have some fight left in you. A pity. I know what your plans are, and I can assure you, they shall never reach fruition. You shall not be allowed to breach my fortress and fulfil the prophecy. A man makes his own destiny, and you do not feature in mine."

Abruptly, he snapped to attention and strode out of the room, stepping over the quivering body in the process. The filthy youth shielded his face from any strike that may still be made against him. The Silver Sword was unpredictable in all but his cruelty, and just because he hadn't made a move yet didn't mean he wasn't going to.

Nonetheless, the older man seemed unaware there was anyone in the chamber save for himself, and paid the slave as much heed as that accorded. In fact, with a muttered word and a wave of one gauntlet-covered hand, all the candles in the room were doused, and he made to close the door behind him as he left.

_Perhaps he ain't so mad about Master Gerris' message. Perhaps I'm safe after all…_

The Silver Sword paused in the doorway, no more than a silhouette against the torchlight. His head swivelled until just his eyes blazed through the gathering darkness like two cruel sapphires, harsh and unforgiving.

The boy barely had time to look up before he burst into flames. His body contorted sickeningly, as he was literally eaten from the inside out by the hungry, flickering tongues of fire. Within second he had vanished inside the inferno, which, somehow never seemed to touch the expensive carpets, nor singe the sumptuous wall hangings.

Quickly as it had come, the blaze vanished, leaving behind only a small pile of glowing ash. There was not even so much as a vague scorch mark anywhere.

"I don't like bad news."

*******************

Kurt sat in the leafy branches of his favoured Oak, feigning sleep. He was wedged into the crook of a branch in such a way as nobody but he would ever consider comfortable. A moth fluttered past. Absently, he swatted at it.

"So you're not asleep then?"

The question caught him off-guard, and he grunted in confusion as he opened his eyes. Peering down, he could see nobody around, which only served to further increase his bewilderment.

"Wo… who's there?" he called blearily, half-entered sleep making him sluggish. "Who said that?"

"Up here." The voice came again, and Kurt obligingly craned his neck to stare into a pair of dancing brown eyes. Jubilee smiled down at him from her lofty perch. "Hi."

"Guten Tag, Fraulein." He closed his eyes again. He really didn't want to talk right now.

The oriental girl swung her legs to and fro, kicking the empty air. "They're looking for you, y'know."

A grunt.

"They're pretty worried."

She wasn't going away. Kurt shifted irritably and indulged her with a word. "They?"

"The others. The Temple Mother, Jean, Kitty. They evened called Sam from the stables - "

"Sam." A hint of derision crept into Kurt's voice. "Let them look for me. I need some time to myself."

Jubilee cocked her head. "Kitty seemed especially bothered about you. When you just Bamfed out like that you gave everyone a big 'ol scare. Good job Rogue was asleep, or she might have done something violent, which I can't see Teah receiving very well."

Another grunt.

"Don't you even care?"

"About what?"

"About Kitty. She's been looking for you absolutely *everywhere*."

"She's got Sam to help her. I just needed some time *alone*." He emphasized the last word, trying to make her see its significance.

Jubilee, however, ostensibly had skin thicker than the fabled elephants of the East. She didn't take the hint. She didn't even acknowledge the hint. Instead, she lowered herself carefully onto another branch and looked down at him.

Kurt could feel her eyes on his cheek, so he turned away. They bored into the back of his skull instead, and his tail swished almost petulantly.

"Kurt, what's the matter? This isn't like you."

"You know me so well as to say something like that? Nothing's the matter," he said tersely, but his tail negated the comment. The thing had a life of its own, sometimes.

Jubilee snorted. "Yeah, right."

Kurt slitted an eye open. "You aren't going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Nope. At least, not until you answer my question." She leaned forward. "So what's up?"

He made an exasperated noise. "I told you – nothing."

"Uh-huh, sure. Don't give me that. I *know* something's the matter, so just tell me. It'll be much easier than the alternative."

"Do I really want to know what the alternative is?"

She considered the question for a moment. "Uh, no. No, I don't think you do."

"Thought so." Kurt sighed, and it seemed to come from the soles of his feet. "I just needed some thinking time. On my own. Emphasis on the last part."

"What did you want to think about?"

"Nothing, really - "

"Kurt. We've done this part. Please don't insult me by trying it again."

"Just… stuff," he conceded.

"Rogue?"

A long pause; then, "Ja."

Jubilee's voice became uncharacteristically serious. "She's had a pretty rough time - "

"Nein." Kurt interrupted. "She's had a *very* rough *life*. I never realised what being an assassin was like. All the stories make it sound so… so…"

"Dishonourable?"

"Glorious," he corrected. He unfolded his arms, staring at the tips of his fingers as the flexed in and out of his palms. "Think about it. The Guild of Assassins is so secretive that people have always fabricated what it's like to be member. Nobody ever survived long enough outside to spread the word about what life is really like in there. It's all hard work and difficult choices, just like the rest of the world. There's no such thing as loyalty, only obedience. The moment you start to care about people – your comrades-at-arms, your family – you're told to turn against them. And if you don't, you're cast out and someone else does the job instead." He shook his head. "Logan was like Rogue's *father*, and she was ordered to kill him. I know what it's like to lose a parent, but if I was told by a higher power to kill my mother… I don't think I could do it. In fact, no 'think' about it. I couldn't. I wouldn't."

Jubilee nodded, but said nothing. She could sense the empathy in his words and let him carry on venting them.

"I know it was insensitive of me to just leave like that, but I really needed to sort my head out. You see, Fraulein, all the time I've been with Rogue on her journey, that's all she's really been to me. The Rogue. No matter what she said, somehow I always went back to thinking of her as just that. That was who she was – her identity. It was like I just couldn't bring myself to believe that she had a life before becoming outcast – what she must've done to people as an assassin appalled me so much I refused to think about it, and the only way I could really do that with her being so close by was to think of her like… like she was born when she was outcast. There was nothing before it, so far as I was concerned. So, to find out what she'd been through… I just felt so ashamed of myself. She gave up so much because of what she believed in, and I never even guessed *half* of it… I always used to pride myself on reading people's body language to see what kind of person they are. When I first saw Rogue I noticed that there was something odd about her. Her bearing was disjointed, like there was something raging about inside of her that couldn't be resolved, and the bonds that used to hold her emotions together weren't there anymore. Now I know what that was all about. Or rather, *who*." He shifted his weight slightly, mumbling something inaudible in Germanic. "Ach, I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"Actually," Jubilee said softly, "you're making a lot of sense. But you shouldn't feel ashamed of yourself, Kurt. From what you've told me, Rogue wasn't exactly open with you. More the 'touch me and I'll ram this boot down your throat' than 'let's share life stories and sing songs around the campfire'."

"Until today. She trusted Kätzchen and me enough to tell us her past. Technically, she's not supposed to do that. As The Rogue she doesn't have a past. Or a future, come to that. Only the present."

"You were surprised that she'd break the rules again?"

"Nein, I'm surprised that she trusts us. She's changed a lot since I first joined her on her expedition. Our first meeting wasn't exactly a friendly one. She was ready to gut me where I stood without a second thought. Now I find her opening her heart and telling me her deepest secrets. It's… it's surreal, to say the least."

Jubilee nodded. "Keeping in mind that I'm speaking as an outsider who has a tendency to look to far into things, but I suppose it's because you and Kitty are the only ones who showed her the time of day since she was cast out of The Guild. She had to keep a low profile, so she couldn't exactly form many friendships as she travelled. The fact that you two cared about her as a person instead of a potential meal-ticket must have meant *something*, even to a prickly-pear like Rogue."

"She *is* a person. A very noble, very loyal person. I never thought I'd say it, but if the situation called for it, I'd trust her with my *life*."

"See?" Jubilee said, vaguely triumphant. "You *care* about her. I doubt anybody's done that since Logan and Pietro."

"Yes… Pietro." Kurt spoke the name speculatively, turning it over in his mouth. A whole lot of things made more sense with that name suffixed to them. "Poor Rogue. To be separated in such a cruel manner from the one she loved."

"Loves." Now it was Jubilee's turn to correct him. "He's still alive, remember. I thought that was the whole point behind this quest of hers – to find him again."

"It is, but… it worries me a little."

"What does?"

"Getting Rogue's hopes up like this. Logan told us that Pietro is at Belvedere – The Silver Sword's *stronghold*. If he is alive, and the horror stories about that place are true, then I don't know if it's a good idea Rogue *does* find Pietro."

"Shouldn't she be the one to decide that?" Jubilee said delicately.

"I suppose. But I still worry about whether it's such a good idea. I don't want Rogue to get hurt any more than she already has."

"Rogue's tough. By definition, she's resilient. Plus, there's always the possibility that this Pietro guy's fine, will be absolutely overjoyed to see Rogue again, and they'll ride off into the sunset in each other's arms."

"I only wish it were that simple, Fraulein."

"I know." She waved her hand dismissively. "However, I'm a hopeless romantic. If there's even the slightest chance of a happy ending then I'll root for that over everything else."

Kurt smiled wanly. "I wish I were as positive as you. Ach, was ist mit mir falsch? What's happened to me lately? I used to be so optimistic, but recently I seem to have been on a near-permanent downer."

"Perhaps you've just been growing up some. You say Rogue's not the person she used to be. Maybe meeting her and Kitty has changed you as well."

He nodded, thoughtful, and took a moment to say anything else. "I don't think I like adulthood much."

"Better get used to it. I hear it lasts the rest of your life."

At this, he laughed.

Jubilee smiled; glad to have elicited a more encouraging response from her new friend – and whatever he, or anyone else said, she already viewed him as that. Kitty, too, if she wanted. As a predominantly happy person, it pained Jubilee to see anyone else troubled. For that person to be Kurt – bubbly, joyful, cheerful Kurt – was even more worrisome. She'd only known him a short time, but already she knew enough about his character to realise that when he needed some 'thinking time' alone, then the situation was much more serious than he was letting on.

She scrutinized him for a few seconds, and then broke the gathering silence by asking a blunt, fairly pert question. "Do you love her?"

Kurt seemed puzzled - perhaps even vaguely embarrassed. "Who?"

"Rogue."

"What? Nein! She's my friend." He looked quite aghast at the suggestion. "Besides, she's still pining after Pietro. Rogue's already found her Geliebtes."

"Someone being already taken doesn't stop the emotions of other people. Haven't you ever heard of unrequited love? Or are those sorts of fiction-scrolls beneath your reading tastes?"

"Ja. I mean nein. I mean – look, I am not in love with Rogue." Kurt shook his head vehemently. "She's more like a sibling. Eine ältere Schwester, möglicherweise? Grouchy and often unfriendly, but loyal and true. Let me assure you, Jubilee; there is not, has never been, and will never be *any* semblance of romance between Fraulein Schlechtes Temper and myself. *Ever*."

Another thought struck Jubilee as he said this, and it slipped out of her mouth before the sensible portion of her brain could hold it back. "What about Kitty?"

"I - " Kurt stopped, alarm and discomfiture warring behind his eyes.

Immediately, she regretted what she'd said, and the dismal expression she'd inadvertently caused with her trademark lack of tact.

_Gods dammit! I promised I wouldn't mention anything. I even made Rahne promise not to breathe a word. 'Let things run their natural course' I said. Then I go and say something stupid like that? Stupid, stupid, *stupid*! Now I've embarrassed him. He probably hadn't even considered Kitty as a love interest after all, and I was just seeing things in The Great Hall. Wonderful, Jubes, just peachy. Open mouth, insert foot._

Coming to the hasty conclusion that discretion was the better part of valour, she decided to swiftly change the subject. Casting about in the poor moonlight, she searched for something else to fix upon. However, any such things were keeping themselves remarkably well hidden tonight, because she couldn't think of anything, and fumbled around uselessly for something – anything – to say.

Eventually she looked back down at the silent Kurt. He wasn't looking up at her, instead staring out into space with a decidedly pensive face. He was chewing his bottom lip with his fangs – something that made her shiver despite herself – and twirling a lock of indigo hair nervously around one thick finger. Focusing on him as she was, she abruptly noticed a slightly shorter patch of hair on his hand, little more than baby fluff, growing around a small, rounded recently-healed scar.

"Where'd you get the scar?"

Kurt twitched, as if startled from deep contemplation. "Was? Oh, this thing?" He held up his palm. "Long story."

"Someone did a good job of fixing it up. Teah?"

"Nein. It was…" He paused, distracted again. "It was Kätzchen."

_Damn._ Jubilee's brow creased, and at once she was glad of the dusky gloom in which to hide her expression. She wondered just how well those incandescent eyes saw at night.

Not that they were looking at her. Kurt was staring away again, obviously thinking hard about something.

She watched him for a second. _Hey, maybe I wasn't wrong after all._ She half-hoped she'd been right. Despite the lack in tact, it would've vindicated a little of her faux pas with truth. However, before she could stop herself, she undid any would-be upbeat possibilities in seemingly record time. "You like her, don't you?"



Kurt sighed, an unhappy edge to his voice. "Ja. She was one of the first people to treat me like a person and not like some… animal. Kätzchen saw the real me, despite my – how shall I say it? My distasteful appearance."

"Why don't you tell her? I'm sure she'd be pleased to hear it. All girls like being paid compliments. I know I do."

"I can't do that!" he exclaimed, appalled.

"Why not? Can't say I'm seeing the problem with that one."

"Well… I… That is to say…" he trailed off awkwardly.

"You're too scared to, aren't you?"

"Nein. Not *scared*, as such. It's just that… well… well, look at me!" He gestured wildly at himself, tail catching and tearing loose a few leaves as it whipped about.

Jubilee cocked her head, black hair falling lazily over one almond shaped eye. "I *am* looking, Kurt. I'm looking very hard at you, and not just because I don't see so well in the dark."

"Then you see why I can't tell Kätzchen about -"

"Actually, no. What I see is a boy of about sixteen winters, who's brave and loyal to a fault, but is too frightened to tell a girl that he likes her. Quite sweet, really. Like a plot out of a romance fiction-scroll."

"I'm not *frightened*!" Then his voice dropped to a more acceptable level, and his eyes darted about madly in case anyone else had borne witness to his little outburst. "I'm not frightened of telling her. I just… I don't think she feels the same way about me, is all."

"Why the heck not?" Jubilee asked in surprise.

"I just sometimes get the feeling that Kätzchen pities me a bit - because of how I look. You have to admit, I'm not exactly easy on the eyes. I wouldn't want her to say something she didn't mean simply because my appearance makes her feel obliged to. I'm not an emotional charity case. I have my pride."

Jubilee couldn't find her voice; she was so shocked at what he was saying. Kitty? Kitty saying she liked him that way because of simple *pity*? It was so absurd, it was almost laughable, and she probably would have let loose a snort if he hadn't continued.

"Kätzchen would be much happier with someone normal like Sam Guthrie, instead of a… a freaky little demon half-breed like me."

"Normal? What's normal?" Jubilee muttered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

She sighed. "If you really think that, Kurt, then perhaps you don't know Kitty as well as you think you do."

His eyebrows arched, and luminous eyes gazed at her through the gloom with a most peculiar light. In their depths shone a breathless hope, of the kind she'd read about but never seen. His voice was filled with affected nonchalance. "What do you mean, Fraulein?"

Jubilee could have bitten back her ill-thought-out words there and then, and mused back on her conversation with Rahne. _It wouldn't be right for me to push it between these two,_ she surmised. _If Kitty *does* like Kurt the way Rahne reckons, then it's Kitty's place to tell him, not mine. If I say something out of place, and she's not ready to accept his feelings yet, then the two of them may lose their little slice of happiness and it'll all be my fault. I don't need that kind of guilt, and they don't need that kind of stress._

"Never mind." She swung down onto Kurt's branch and lowered herself onto another before he had time to speak again.

"Was? What's that supposed to mean? Fraulein? Jubilee? Why won't you tell me? Fraulein!"

"Let's just say that I'd be acting like a hypocrite to someone if I let my tongue wag anymore," was the only cryptic answer she'd give. Then she turned her face skywards, back toward him. "Are you going to come back inside now? Have you had enough thinking time?"

He gave her a dubious look, before grasping that she really was serious about not saying anything more. "I suppose." He heaved himself out of the niche with a sigh and a yawn. "And thanks, Jubilee. You can be noisy, tactless and incredibly exasperating at times, but thanks for coming to find me. I appreciate it."

"Hey, I wasn't the only one looking. I just happened to be the one who chanced upon you. But you're welcome, I think," she added at his hurt expression. "Now let's get back inside the temple. It's getting cold out here, and I think Ororo wants to talk to you about something when Rogue wakes up."

"Talk to me?" Kurt sounded perplexed as he leapt gratefully to a lower bough, making the rest of the tree shake upon landing. Jubilee shot him a murderous look.

"Don't do that. I break easily. And she wants to talk to all three of you, Kitty included. Wouldn't say what about though. Must be pretty important for another private consultation."

"Jawohl." Kurt bounded, nose pointing floorward, down the body of the Oak. His tail snaked behind him like some furry blue serpent, winding this way and that. "I wonder what she wants to say to us? It must be important for the middle of the night."

Jubilee felt slightly nauseous at his death-defying acrobatics, but staidly climbed down at her own pace.

Kurt waited for her at the bottom, spaded tail flicking impatiently among the exposed tree-roots. "Come on, come on, slowpoke," he 'encouraged'. "You were the one who wanted to go back inside."

"Yes, and I'd prefer it if all my bones are intact when I do," she said, clutching desperately at a knothole whilst trying in vain to seem casual about it. It didn't work, and eventually gave up trying to look graceful in favour of just getting to the ground in one piece.

Kurt made an exasperated noise, tapping one foot to add to the lively tail. "Ach, you're slower than an old woman. I've seen sludge move faster than you."

"Then call me sludge."

*******************

Kitty sat perched on the end of Rogue's bed, nursing in both hands a bowl of hot broth that Underling Fred had brought. She blew gently on it, watching curls of steam sweep into the air and vanish.

Rogue wasn't, at present, in said bed, but was near enough to speak to the younger girl without raising her voice.

"It good?"

"I don't know. It's too hot to try yet."

Rogue made an indecipherable noise and went back to what she was doing.

Kitty watched silently as the white slip, carelessly flung over the folding screen, disappeared from view. A few seconds later another, more irritated noise emerged.

"Damn it all to the Seventh Hell! Isn't there *anything* else?"

Teah marched past, a small grizzling baby in her arms. Its mother was currently indisposed in another section of the Infirmary, and so the child had been duly deposited on the young healer. Her expression told that she was not in the best of moods – she was a physician, not a babysitter!

"No, there isn't. Now get back into bed, this instant. If I had my way you wouldn't be out of it at all, but you made such a fuss - " The infant mewled pitifully and Teah tutted. "Come out from behind there. And I mean right now, not tomorrow or next week. I haven't the time or patience to humour you."

She padded off into another room in search of sustenance for her unintended charge, leaving Kitty alone.

Kitty faced the screen, eyes wandering aimlessly. With a faint, inadvertent smile she replayed the confrontation between the two fierce females in her mind.

She'd returned upon telepathic confirmation from Jean – who'd also received a stern reprimand for using her powers so soon after nearly losing her body – that Kurt had been found and was on his way back to the Infirmary, only to find Rogue and Teah at loggerheads the moment she walked in the door. Rogue had awoken in a more clear-headed state than last time, and was most disgruntled to discover that beneath the bed sheets she was as naked as the day she was born.

"Shaking Sickness involves a fever!" Teah had told her, prior to the baby being dumped in her arms. "That's why you don't have any bedclothes on. You were too hot to wear them."

"So gimmie mah *real* clothes," Rogue had demanded.

"I can't. They were too filthy for words and absolutely crawling with germs. I had them burned as soon as I could."

"*What*?" The anger on Rogue's face had been almost palpable.

"They were a health hazard. This is a place for sick people. Do the math."

"Why you little - " She'd been halfway out the bed for Teah's throat before Kitty could get to her.

"Rogue, calm down, please," she'd begged, catching the older girl's arm and holding her back – not without some considerable effort. "You'll only make yourself sick again."

Rogue had seemed surprised, and perhaps even a little alarmed at Kitty's sudden presence at her elbow, but allowed herself to be cajoled back between the sheets amidst much grumbling and moaning about 'damn kids' who 'couldn't mind their own damn business'.

Whilst the grousing had been refreshingly familiar, Kitty couldn't help being surprised that Rogue had actually listened to her without biting her head off, let alone done what was asked. Yet more unusual behaviour to add to recent events.

Of course, Rogue had instantly negated that by whipping round and telling Teah, in very unflattering terms, "You'd better have something else for me to wear then, 'cause I ain't wearing none of those damn pink *dresses* you got on. I'd rather go naked."

"Initiate Ashari, please?"

Teah had frowned, pursing her lips at Kitty's pleading expression. Then relented. "Tch, all right then. I'll see what I can do. But no more complaining, or you really *will* go butt naked, I can promise you *that*. A few hours awake in my Infirmary and already I want you out of here…"

Thus Rogue had been handed some inscrutable white fabric and directed behind a nearby screen for modesty's sake when Underling Fred arrived.

Kitty raised the wooden bowl to her lips and supped. The broth was thick and nourishing, and full of nutty inclusions. Just right when you'd been up and about for more hours than you could count on both hands. She inhaled the delectable scent, snorting slightly when the fumes tickled her nose.

A tentative movement caught her eye. She looked up at the screen. "Rogue?"

"I ain't coming out," stated the disembodied voice, with an 'and you can't make me' air.

"Please Rogue?" Kitty wheedled. "Your broth's, like, getting cold."

"I said no. It's demeaning! I won't do it."

"*Please*, Rogue. Kurt's gonna be back soon, and Ororo wants to talk with *all* of us. I doubt she'd wanna, like, speak to someone she can't even see."

A scuffling sound, like someone folding their arms.

"Pretty please?"

Rogue 'humphed'. "You laugh and you're dead."

Kitty nodded, and then remembered the ex-assassin couldn't see her. "All right."

A fumbling of white slunk around the edge of the folding canvas, head down and fists clenched tightly by her sides. Rogue was a picture in floaty white fabric, with a hem that barely passed mid-thigh, short sleeves edged in delicate lace and… were those *frills*?

Kitty stifled a giggle at the incongruity of it all. Rogue's hair was mussed haphazardly into various greasy peaks and troughs, and her cheeks were coloured scarlet with both embarrassment and rage. She glared openly.

"One peep and you're dead. Just one. I don't need no weapons…" She flexed her fingers demonstrably, and Kitty swallowed her sniggering with no small amount of haste.

"It looks good on you," she offered, hopping off the bed and setting her bowl down on a neighbouring stand. With a quick flick of her wrists she'd turned the bed sheets down and gestured for Rogue to climb back in. The ex-assassin did so, grumbling all the way of course, but batted Kitty's hands away when she tried to tuck her in.

"Get off. I can do it mahself!" she snarled, teeth all but completely bared.

"Sorry. I was just trying to help," Kitty said by way of apology, holding up her hands in the universal gesture of defence.

"Well I don't need no help. I can manage just fine on mah own."

"A simple 'thank you' would've sufficed," she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good."

Kitty shook her head and sighed. As much as Rogue's earlier emotional outburst had shaken and surprised her, it seemed that it had been just a fluke, and not some life-changing episode after all. The shock of being catapulted so violently back into her own body perhaps? Or some other such rational explanation. Certainly, the bad tempered girl didn't seem to remember the incident now, and was just as crabby and unapproachable as ever.

_I still can't believe what she said. Even if she was delirious. Rogue in love? The concept's pretty unbelievable. Rogue fighting for what she believes in; that I can picture, but in love?_ Her head shook, brain rendering the information impossible despite her desire to think otherwise. Rogue was violent. Rogue was a strong fighter. Rogue had a will of iron. But Rogue most definitely did *not* fall in love.

Did she?

"Hey… Shrimp?"

Mentally, Kitty sighed again. _Back to 'Shrimp' now. I suppose it was too much to hope for that she'd keep using my proper name._ "Yeah?"

"Where *are* mah weapons, anyhow?"

"Over there, in that chest." Kitty indicated to the other side of the room. "Safely locked away until you're ready to use them again."

"Nobody touched them while I was out?" Rogue sounded faintly surprised.

"Well, not exactly." Kitty scuffed her foot. "Kurt and I… well, we kinda cleaned them up a bit for you. We sorta hoped that if we did, you'd… wake up from the Shaking Sickness and see them." She gave a nervous laugh. "Dumb, huh?"

There was silence for a second. "No it ain't," Rogue said softly – far softer than her usual demeanour would allow imagination to picture. "That sounds like something an assassin would do. 'Free the blade from that which taints it, and so release the soul trapped within.' An old Guild Proverb. But how did y'all know about that?"

"I – we – didn't. We just kinda… hoped," Kitty finished lamely.

Another uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

"Thanks," Rogue said at last. "Guess I'm corrupting y'all, huh? Making y'all think like assassins instead of normal folk."

"Normal? What's normal?" Kitty asked, unaware of the irony attached to her remark. "We just wanted to do something that might help you. Thinking like an assassin didn't even come into it."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, as if considering what had been said.

"Thanks." Rogue pulled herself up into a sitting position, propping her back against the pillow and letting the sheets pool about her waist. She seemed uncertain for a moment, and then added, "For everything."

Kitty must have looked confused, because she then followed on with more words – quite a feat for the girl who supposedly disliked conversation so much.

"I don't know if I dreamed it, 'cause I sure had some weird dreams while I was sick, but I know that you two did something for me. And believe it or not, it meant a lot. Otherwise I wouldn't have told y'all about…" She paused for a moment, uncertain. She chewed her lip thoughtfully before continuing, brushing over the revelation she'd spewed forth when she awoke. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… well… Damn it, you ever repeat this and I'll have your hide nailed to the wall. But thanks. For calling me back, I mean. Don't think I could've made it otherwise. So just… thanks. For everything."

Kitty simply stared, and Rogue shifted uncomfortably beneath her solid gaze. She wasn't much at conversation, and she was even worse at thank-yous.

_Damn stupid things, manners,_ she silently cursed. _All they were created for was to fill in uncomfortable silences, but all they do is create more of them. I'd like to get my hands on the Kaju who - _

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted when Kitty bowed her own head, the sudden movement startling her.

"You're welcome," she murmured, half-hoping Rogue wouldn't hear her. It was a vain hope, however. Very little escaped the ex-assassin's sensitive hearing.

Yet Rogue didn't mock her as she once would have been wont to do. Somehow, the jibes just wouldn't come. She was aware that this was the usual place where she would interject with some cutting comment or other, but she just couldn't. The words weren't there in her mind, and even if they had been, she somehow doubted she would have voiced them. She couldn't. Or perhaps, she didn't want to.

_What in all Seven Hells is happening to me? Did they give me happy leaves while was out?_ She shook her head. _Nah, I'd have known if I'd been drugged. Must be going soft in mah old age, then._

However, all further uncharacteristic behaviour was swiftly cut short by the thick wooden door to the Infirmary swinging open and crashing loudly against the opposite wall. Both girls jumped in shock, and Rogue involuntarily readied herself into a combat position that would allow her to spring from the bed and kick some heads.

The stance wasn't needed, however, as through the doorway strolled a familiar figure followed by an even more familiar fuzzy blue one.

"Panic over. I found him," Jubilee called out to anyone who'd listen. Catching sight of the duo, she grinned broadly. "Told you I would."

Kitty felt a scowl begin to pull at her eyebrows, and quickly plastered a happy smile in its place – something Rogue's sharp eyes noted with surprise.

Kurt waved at them, mirroring Jubilee's grin toothily. His nose twitched like a blue rabbit's as he scented the air, and golden eyes swiftly transferred to the steaming bowls of broth on the stand. He smacked his lips.

"Nahrung! Wundervoll! Ich bin hungrig."

"There's a bowl here for you, Kurt." Kitty picked it up and held it out for him.

Kurt pouted slightly. "Only one?"

"Shuddup and be grateful, fuzzy." Jubilee ruffled his hair affectionately, and it was all Kitty could do to keep her smile in place. "If I'm not mistaken, then that's Underling Fred's special broth. His own secret recipe, no less. It'll sit in your stomach for a week, believe you me. One bowl is *quite* enough for any person."

"Jawohl, but I'm not just any person, am I?"

"No, you're, like, a total bottomless pit," Kitty quipped, not willing to be outdone.

"And proud of it," he shot back with ease. His eyes darted beyond her, dancing with some unfathomable light. He smiled in the direction of the bed's occupant. "Fraulein, you're awake."

"Yeah," Rogue replied, monosyllabic. Her voice remained steadfastly deadpan, her bearing unaffected by his charm.

"Wie gehen Sie fühlend? Uh, I mean, how are you feeling?"

"Fine, considering." Peering out from beetles brows, she shot him a suspicious look. "Where exactly have *you* been, anyhow?"

"Oh… around," he said furtively. He would give no further comment on the matter; though Rogue observed several furtive glances sent Kitty's way when he thought she wasn't looking. Several furtive, and… fearful glances?

Rogue blinked. _Why would the Elf be afraid of Shrimp?_

"Kätzchen, is that delicious-smelling stuff really for me, or are you pulling my tail?" Kurt's nostrils flared, drinking in the aroma like it was the elixir of life. The bowl *smelled* nourishing, and he filled his lungs with steam and scent.

Kitty nodded. "It's for you. Underling Fred brought it up specially. Said something about you'd smell it a mile off if you were really hungry."

"I am." A sudden, mischievous grin split his face. "Hey, Kätzchen, shall I show Fraulein Rogue my new trick?"

Kitty paused, frowning. "What new trick?" she asked, struck by momentary stupidity. Once the moment had left, however, she could have smacked herself for her gaucheness – especially with Jubilee in the room.

"*The* trick," Kurt said again, winking.

Jubilee caught on instantly, her own sense of fun lending a hand in her comprehension of his meaning, and making Kitty feel doubly inept.

"Yeah, Kitty-kat," she said jovially; using the nickname she'd created. "Let him show off. You know he's just *dying* to."

_Keep smiling, Kitty; just keep smiling._ "You mean Bamf, right?"

Rogue narrowed her eyes guardedly. "What's a 'Bamf'?" she demanded, turning the strange word over in her mouth and simultaneously wondering whether she actually wanted to know.

If possible, Kurt's grin grew even wider, showing gums as well as teeth. "This," he said in a melodramatic tone. He promptly disappeared in a puff of sulphurous smoke and imploding light.

Green eyes went wide, and Rogue's mouth dropped open. You could almost hear it clang as it hit the floor. She stared intently at the spot he'd so recently and so abruptly vacated. "What in the Seventh Hell….?"

Almost immediately, Kurt reappeared next to Kitty. It would have been the perfect demonstration of his powers, had he not unfortunately emerged several feet above the floor. His vibrant flourish turning into a strangled squawk, as he came crashing down to earth with a loud bump and a very sore rear end.

"Yowch!" His tail was squashed by his own falling weight, pushing a screech from his throat. He bounced to his feet, unceremoniously rubbing at the spot where it joined his spine. "Uh, I guess I still need to work on my re-entry." He pulled a face that elicited giggles from two of his audience.

Not so the third.

Rogue just stared, incredulity turning her face into a frozen mask of amazement. "What did you…? How did you *do* that?" she demanded, craning out of bed to see him better.

Kurt's grin remained unchanged, and he flashed his teeth at her again. "An extremely long and complicated story, Fraulein. One which I shall relate to you forthwith… ugh…" He swayed slightly, staggering backwards. He was forced to clutch at Kitty's arm and hip to stay upright, such was the length of the step. She blushed at the sudden contact, and when he'd got his balance back, Kurt jerked away from her, the skin beneath his fur tinting scarlet. Swiftly, he changed the subject. "I rephrase. One that I shall be glad to explain properly once I get some food in me. I'm getting that woozy feeling again. Es tut mir leid, Kätzchen."

"I *knew* you hadn't, like, had enough to eat. Sit down, Kurt." Kitty plonked him unceremoniously on the end of Rogue's bed, thrusting a bowl of broth into his tri-dactyl hands. "Here. You can have mine, too. I *told* you that you hadn't eaten nearly enough today, but you didn't listen to me."

Kurt frowned, but accepted the dish greedily. "Es tut mir leid, Kätzchen. Nerven, sehen Sie. I lose my appetite when I'm worried or nervous. All cleared up now, though." He raised the bowl to his lips, eyes sliding slyly in Rogue's direction. The glance was only for a split second, but it was enough to knock the ex-assassin back a few mental paces.

_The Elf couldn't eat because of *me*?_ The concept was too ridiculous to be true. _That greedy little Kaju? I wouldn't have thought a tornado could take his appetite away, especially with that high metabolism of his. He was risking a lot more than a few stomach growls by not eating. Nobody's ever been so worried about *me*. Not since before…_ She shook the thought away, scowling.

In mere moments, Kurt had drained the bowl of broth. He sat cross legged, tail trailing in his lap and tongue licking the last traces of food from the fur around his mouth. Droplets tended to catch there, and he made a great show of enjoying them just as much as the rest of his meal.

"Mmm, dass ist sehr gut. Give my compliments to the chef."

"You may tell him yourself, later. I'm sure Fred would appreciate that."

All eyes turned upon Ororo, as she walked gracefully into the room. She seemed almost to float rather than do something so pedestrian as walk, and spared a single glance for the door, still splayed against the opposite wall.

"Your handiwork, Jubilee? You really must curb that. Entering a room without destroying the door can't be so very difficult, can it?" She smiled, and it was like sunbeams on an already warm day. "Or have the rest of us mastered some thorny skill that still evades you?" The words were distinctly sarcastic, and if spoken by anybody else, they would have sounded as such. Yet, somehow, coming from Ororo's mouth all malicious intent was lost from them; cast aside in the friendly tone of her mellow voice.

Jubilee looked at the floor and scuffed her foot. "Sorry, Temple Mother," she muttered, obviously embarrassed.

Ororo just laughed. "Come now, don't be gloomy. It doesn't suit you. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave us for a while, my child." She nodded at the three non-temple members. "I have great need to speak with your new friends alone, and the matter at hand is both very pressing and very private. I'll let you know when we're finished."

Jubilee nodded obediently, keeping her eyes firmly glued to the floorboards. With a perfunctory nod at the trio, she edged out of the door, careful not to turn her back on the majestic woman until it was time to close it behind her. Then she turned and ran, cheeks flaming when the door banged shut.

The moment it did so, Ororo's mask slipped, shocking those who saw it. Her face became grave, and she called out loudly, "Teah?"

The young healer bustled through another door, caterwauling baby now asleep in the crook of her arm. Her hair was coming loose from its fastenings, and her eyes held a spark of exasperation. The Infirmary was a sprawling of many rooms, and she'd missed the majority of events so far as she rocked him to sleep in another, quieter one. She held a finger to her lips, and nodded at the older woman. "Yes, Ororo. What is it?"

"I need some privacy to speak with our three guests. Can you be sure that nobody disturbs us?"

"Will do," Teah replied shortly, and vanished back into the other area, kicking the door shut with her foot. It slammed, and Kitty winced.

_That can't be, like, good for sleeping babies._

Ororo turned to face them all with a tired sigh. Her face had taken on a distinctly haggard aura in the few moments since the room had been effectively sealed off from the rest of the temple, and Kurt noticed with his sharp vision that small black rings encircled her normally vibrant eyes. She looked nothing less than exhausted – the regret in her eyes a stark contrast to only a few moments previous.

He blinked, wondering if he'd read the emotion correctly.

Regret? Ororo? What did the Temple Mother have to be remorseful about?

Or… what was she about to *do* that she was going to regret?



A feeling of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach.

Ororo gestured with one hand, the other concealed within the magenta folds of her sleeve. "Please, be seated."

"I'm okay," Kitty shrugged, since she was the only one still standing besides Ororo herself, but the older woman shook her head.

"I'm afraid I must insist. I think you'll need to be sitting down when I've said what I have to say."

"Ororo, what's this all about?" Kurt asked worriedly, as Kitty perched herself neatly on a neighbouring bed, rumpling the erstwhile unused sheets.

Ororo sighed again and went to the window. She rested her palms against the sill, staring down into the courtyard below and keeping her gaze firmly averted. It was clear even to the most untrained eye that whatever it was she needed to say to them, she wasn't looking forward to it.

"Ororo?"

"I don't know quite how to begin," she admitted at last, still not looking at them. "I waited so long for this moment, but now it's arrived I find myself unable to do what is necessary. I thought this would be a time of great joy at my discovery, but… it's not. This is, in fact, a time of only remorse at the mantle I must place about your young shoulders." She hung her head, white hair falling across her face and shielding it from them.

Rogue snorted, unimpressed by the melodrama. "Listen, lady. I don't know you as well as these two seem to, but you're speaking nonsense, so far as I can see. If you wanna say something, then say it. Don't beat around the bush."

Kitty stared at her, horrified. "Rogue," she admonished, "have some respect."

"No, she's right." Ororo lifted her hands from the sill and clasped them behind her back – though she still didn't turn back to face the room.

The knot in Kurt's stomach tightened, and he reached out for Kitty's bowl of broth to steady himself. He knew from past experience that nerves sapped his energy, and that could only lead to another fainting spell. Somehow, though he didn't know exactly how, he was aware of how important it was he stay conscious for whatever was about to occur.

"This cannot be put off any longer, and it's wrong of me to withhold the truth from you young ones. I only wish there was some other way…" Ororo trailed off. Then she shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts.

They'd never seen her this way before. She seemed agitated, and as far removed from her usual composed self as was possible to get. It made all of their senses scream with trepidation – even Rogue, on some subliminal level.

"You've all three of you seen much in your short lives," Ororo said. "In some cases, too much. More than mere children should have to see. And yet you've borne it and survived. This bodes well for you for what the future holds. You're all aware of the one known as The Silver Sword?"

An involuntary growl left Rogue's throat, and she clenched her hands into fists. "Know him? I'd like to rip his damn throat out with mah bare hands!"

"Rogue," Kurt said warningly, shooting her a glance that only he could master – a look that instantly reduced her to a mere scowl, instead of impending violence.

"I'll take that as a yes." Ororo went on, "Then I trust you're all also aware of what he has done in recent years to Earth-Realm? Of the magical forces he's meddled with, the lives he's ruined and stolen, and the freedom he's destroyed, all in the name of increasing his own power?"

This took the three youngsters aback – Rogue included. Never before had they heard such vehemence and naked anger in the Temple Mother's tone. Her voice held all the marks of true hatred, yet all mixed up with a despair of which none of them could place the origin. It was a somehow chilling sound.

Kurt licked his lips. "Ja. We've heard of these things. How could we not, when all of the Changelings at this temple are the result of his magic?" _Kätzchen included,_ he added silently.

"I've done more than heard about his antics," Rogue gritted. "I've *seen* 'em with mah own eyes. I did some pretty awful stuff mahself when I was an assassin. Not that I saw it as such at the time, but even now, it ain't nothing compared to the… there ain't no other word to describe him; the *evil* he's capable of. It turned mah stomach every time I came across his handiwork, and that's saying something, considering some of the memories I got." She tapped the side of her head to demonstrate.

Ororo's gaze flickered sideways over her shoulder, but soon returned to looking out of the window. Apparently, she found it easier to converse with them when she didn't have to see their faces. "In all my years, I've never come across anyone quite as power-hungry as The Silver Sword. He's cold, and completely ruthless. He is willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants, whatever that might be at any given moment, and no matter how it affects other people. Ally or foe, he's shattered more lives than anyone can count anymore, and his influence has spiralled so out of control that I doubt anyone could stop him if he chose to do something drastic, like topple an empire or sink a continent. Yes, it has been considered that he might want to do these things. It wouldn't be the first time someone has tried. If he wanted to destroy all of Earth-Realm, I don't think there's anybody powerful enough left to oppose him. He has them all under his thumb, or else they're already vanquished."

Kitty gaped. "He wouldn't *do* that, would he?"

"He might," was the deadpan reply. "That's what makes him so dangerous. There's no telling *what* he has planned next. Power, land, knowledge, magicks – sometimes I wonder whether he'll ever be satisfied with what Earth-Realm has to offer. There have been rumours for some time that once he has exhausted all ways of dominating mortals, he wishes to extend his reach into the matters if deities, as well. He lusts after the power held by The Powers That Be, you know. *And* that of the gods."

"The *gods*?" Kurt was incredulous. "But nobody can take power away from the *gods*. They created everything. They… they *are* power. They'd just strike him down in the blink of an eye if he tried anything with them. They're all-powerful… aren't they?"

Ororo shrugged, circumventing the question. "As I said, it's only rumour. Now. But in the future, who knows? Power does peculiar things to a person. It corrupts even the most innocent of souls. And The Silver Sword has so much of it that we can only conjecture how it has affected him on a personal level. One must wonder about a man who plans battle strategy for evening sport instead of Bobstones."

The knot tightened another notch.

Rogue folded her arms. "That's all well and good," she said, vaguely defiant, "but what's it got to do with us?"

"It has everything to do with you," Ororo said sharply. "I was just making sure you realised the extent of what you are to be faced with."

"Faced with?"

At last, her eyes shifted from the window, coming to rest on Rogue's pale face. "This isn't some petty quest anymore, Rogue of the Guild. I know of your desire to reclaim your loved one from The Silver Sword's stronghold."

Rogue frowned deeply, eyebrows practically meeting.

"But now you are destined for much more than a simple rescue from that wicked place." A loaded pause. "Much more…"

Rogue wrinkled her nose. "Huh? I don't get what you're talking about, lady, but I sure as hell don't like the sound of it."

Ororo laughed. It wasn't a nice sound, and barely resembled the tinkling laughter she'd graced Jubilee with only minutes earlier. It spoke of pain and sombre knowledge, all mixed up with a dose of realism so harsh that it was painful to hear. A collective shiver ran down their spines, though Rogue shook hers off with a toss of her unruly hair.

"I'd be very worried if you *did* like the sound of it, child."

Tentatively, Kurt spoke up, voice quavering slightly with trepidation. He attempted to hide his weakness, but the waver in his tone was still painfully obvious. "Ororo, was ist los? What's the matter? What's going on?"

When she didn't reply, Kitty added her own voice to the proceedings. "Ororo? Please. If it involves us, then we have a right to know what's going on."

Ororo smirked acrimoniously. "Yes… you do." She turned to face them properly, surveying each of them in turn, as if learning the contours of their faces like she was never going to see them again. Then she sighed deeply, and it seemed to come from the soles of her sandals. "I'm sorry."

The knot in Kurt's midriff was so tight it was almost choking him, and he struggled for breath through the foul blanket of dread embracing his insides. "Sorry?" he squeaked, wondering where all his good mood had gone. "For what, Fraulein?"

"For not being able to change things. For not being able to shoulder this burden myself. For not being able to do anything but play messenger. I'm sorry, my children. Truly, I am."

Kitty's fingers curled nervously into her palms. In, out, in out – they played a staccato rhythm of half-moons in her skin. "Ororo, you're scaring me."

"I'm sorry, my child. I'm so, so sorry."

Rogue slammed a fist against her bedside cabinet, startling them all. "Enough with the damn 'sorrys' already!" she snapped, businesslike despite her bed-ridden state. Her expression was just short of thunderous, and she snorted at Ororo with no more respect than she might have shown a thief or beggar in the street. In short, she looked at her just as she would anyone else in the world. "Just tell us what we need to hear and stop drawing it out. It's pretty obvious this whatever-it-is leans on the side of 'important', so just suck it up, get on with it, and stop keeping us in the dark for Hells' sakes."

Ororo's head jerked up, blinking, but she nodded. "You are correct. I shall try to be more concise." She took a breath and continued, "Firstly, you must know of a prophecy that was made many thousands of years ago. It concerned the rise of a 'glittering darkness' – a 'shining bade' that has since been proved truthful by the augmentation of The Silver Sword. Yet, it also spoke of a saviour who would follow him into the world; an unusual saviour, who would strive to rescue Earth-Realm from the clutches of the 'subtle foe' and return peace and order to the lands once more."

"A saviour?" Kurt glanced around at Kitty and Rogue. Suspicion was starting to manifest in the back of his mind, and from the looks on their faces, it was doing so with them, too. "What kind of a saviour?"

"'A saviour of old; reborn to strive our cause, but deadly to our eyes. Demons will join the Jinrui, and salvation shall come from the heart of the Pehora,'" Ororo quoted.

Rogue made a choking noise, eyes widening out of their scowl for a second. "But that's… I… I *know* those words. I've seem them before, a long time ago."

Both Kurt and Kitty looked at her.

"Seen them, Fraulein?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I wasn't long out of The Guild, I took shelter in some big old abandoned house. It was shelter, so I didn't question much, other than there was nobody in it and the kitchens had good food along with the spoiled. When I was scouting the place for serviceable weapons, I found a whole bunch of papers – translations of an ancient text. I couldn't make head nor tail of them, but for some reason I always remembered what they said." She stared at the Temple Mother. "How do *you* know about them?"

"That quotation is from the Texts of Calorsiel. A prophet of many years ago. I know of it because I have a copy of it." Ororo loosed a long breath. "The prophecy was ignored for many years, and by the time I realised its true significance, it was too late. The Silver Sword had already begun his rise to power, and had gained a copy for himself, also. Now he seeks to destroy the saviour who is to come and fight for us."

"And why does this concern us, Ororo?" Kurt breathed, hesitant of the answer.

Blue eyes fixed squarely on him, making him squirm beneath their intensity. "It concerns you," Ororo said sadly, "because you three are that saviour."

A muted gasp circulated the room, and Kitty clapped a hand to her mouth.



"What?" Rogue was incredulous, though a distance part of her had been expected a statement like this. Still, her knee-jerk reaction was to fight it. "Can't be. You're wrong, lady. Dead wrong." She shook her head. "We ain't the saving type. Especially not me."

"And yet you would walk into your enemy's fortress to rescue the boy you love," Ororo said quietly. "You know better than anyone that what I say is the truth, Rogue. You speak Gehin. Tell Kurt and Kitty what 'Jinrui' and 'Pehora' mean."

"Fraulein?" Kurt looked expectantly at the ex-assassin, who fumbled uncomfortably away from his golden eyes, only to be met by an equally anxious pair of blue.

"Rogue, like, what's she talking about?"

Rogue bit her lip and hung her head, muttering a string of unrepeatable curses. "Jinrui means mankind, and Pehora means three," she said grudgingly.

"Demons will join mankind, and salvation shall come from the heart of the three," Kurt repeated, adding in the translations. His eyes enlarged, as he realised to whom they were referring. "Demons? Does that mean me?"

"It's talking about when y'all joined me on mah quest to Belvedere," Rogue bit out, glancing up at Ororo with something akin to resentment. "Ain't it?"

The older woman nodded. "It is. You three are the saviour of legend. It was written as such, and Jean confirmed it with a vision the night before you arrived. She saw you before she'd even met you, and prophesied what you were destined to do for us. For all of us."

"Wait a second, Jean knew about this?" Now it was Kitty's turn to be incredulous. "She knew all this time, and she didn't tell us? Didn't so much as *hint* at it?"

"I told her not to. It was important that all three of you be present to hear of your destiny, and until tonight, that was impossible. I told you that The Silver Sword also has a copy of the prophecy, and is trying to destroy the saviour. That's why he sent the Displacer Beast. It was dispatched to kill any of the three of you, because if even one of you is missing then the prophecy can never be fulfilled."

"Whoa! Hang on a minute!" Rogue held up her hands. "You keep saying 'saviour', but you talk about all three of us. Don't you mean 'saviours'? As in the plural?"

"No, I know exactly what I mean when I say 'saviour'. Now you must learn of the truth behind each of your existences, and all the lives that went before to create you three. Kurt," she focused on him again. "You wanted answers to your heritage, and you got them here when you discovered about your parents. But I didn't tell you before that I know much more about your history than even they did. Likewise, Kitty and Rogue. I know more about you three than anybody else in Earth-Realm, the Silver Sword included. He knows that three are going to face and try to vanquish him, but he doesn't know what these three are truly capable of. Now, I shall tell you of your destiny."

"Destiny?" Rogue sniffed. "I don't believe in destiny. I choose mah own path in life."

"Silence, Rogue." Ororo's tone was uncharacteristically brusque, startling them all. "Don't say things you know nothing about. If you refuse your fate, then you're consigning the entire world to death and destruction. Is that what you really want? To wreak not only devastation, but debauchery and literal Hells incarnate on innocents? *Is it*?"

"No," Rogue mumbled, folding her arms.

"All I ask you to do at present is listen. Afterwards, you can make your own decisions. The nature of the prophecy means that I can't force you into anything you don't want to do, whatever I may think of your choices."

"We're listening, Temple Mutter."

Ororo dropped her gaze, focusing solidly on the floorboards and tracing the grain instead of looking at the trio. She didn't want to see their expressions if they didn't believe her. She didn't want to see all her hopes – the hopes of all Earth-Realm – burst into flames on their faces.

Taking a deep breath for inner strength, she began her explanation.

"Long, long ago, in a time of hate and malice similar to the world The Silver Sword will create if allowed to do so. In a time of greater magic than we know now – of sorcery that has long since been lost in the mists of time. The world was a darker place then. Constant wars raged across the lands, and the sun appeared dark in the eyes of each soul trampled beneath its rays. This was a time not so very long after the gods created first Earth-Realm, and yet the beings in it, the first races, had already learned to hate and kill each other. Blood ran freely, and eventually times grew so appalling that Ajudan, the king of the gods, decided it was best to smite the entire world and start over. However, the other gods and goddesses disagreed with him. They'd come to like this realm, and the seeds of love and compassion that sometimes shone through the darkness, piercing the malice of people's hearts. Ajudan had indulged this world in the creation of souls – abstracts that contained mortal spirits and allowed them the faculty of choice, whether for good or evil. This ability to choose sometimes reaped glorious results, and there were pockets of the first races filled with something that would later be named 'compassion'. Many of the gods and goddesses had taken mortal lovers from these pockets, and protested on their behalf for Ajudan to reconsider. Such was their argument that he did indeed relent, but that left him with the dilemma of what to do about the problems facing Earth-Realm. The way things were, people we going to destroy themselves and those around them, anyway, without any need for the gods to do so, and the world would end by the hands of those that inhabited it. The ultimate irony, Ajudan laughed at their predicament, even as he removed his hands from the game board, for he had declared that no deity be able to directly and actively interfere in the ways of mortals.

"So the other gods rallied together and came up with a different tactic. They chose a man, a mortal fighter from Earth-Realm who had proven himself righteous by defending the innocent against all who threatened them, with no material gain for himself. He had flaws, as does any mortal, but his virtues far outweighed them, and they elected to 'reward' him for this intrinsic worth. The warrior's name was Rei-Shima, and he became the gods' champion. They gave him the gift of great power – more than any mortal had ever known before – and he used it to cleanse the lands of evil and restore peace and prosperity to all. Earth Realm was much smaller then, and in less than a score of years he had united the lands in harmony, and his exploits became the stuff of legend. The era when he roamed has since become known only as the Golden Age, and was a time of happiness and peace for all who desired it.

"However, despite all the good he did, Rei-Shima was still only mortal. He was not a god, nor one of The Powers That Be. Great though his gifts and abilities were, they could not make him live forever, and the day eventually came when his life ran out. However, fearing what would happen if such great evil should rise again, as it did before, the gods gave their champion one last gift for all that he had done in saving his world. He was given a choice, between eternal happiness in the paradise of hereafter, or staying dormant on the mortal plane to safeguard the world he had already left. As the gods had known he would, he chose the latter; and so, when he died his soul was split into three parts. These were characterized by different aspects of his life – one part stood for the love he felt for Earth-Realm, another was for the hope he inspired in people, and the last was for the death he wreaked upon his enemies, for though he was a hero, Rei-Shima never forgot that justice was dealt through punishment as much as tenderness. Love, Hope and Death; these three parts were then placed into three separate bodies, destined to be reborn and rehoused time and time again into the mortal world, waiting for a day when they would once again be needed and merge together to form the saviour, Rei-Shima."

A diamond pause followed this story.

"Love, Hope and Death," Rogue repeated at last. "I remember something about that in Calorsiel's prophecy."

Ororo nodded, and quoted the section. "'A law unto themselves; Death, Love and Hope, with eyes of fire and precious metal, shall come as one, to be reborn as that which has been and shall be again, and with one hand to stay the power of the glittering darkness.' "

"Eyes of precious metal." Kitty pursed her lips. "Gold eyes."

Kurt's fingers strayed involuntarily to his face, but he said nothing.

"So… now you know," Ororo said sadly. "Truly, I am sorry for this, since you are no more than children, but it is your destiny to unite and resurrect Rei-Shima so that he may stop the ascension of The Silver Sword."

Kitty emitted a high whimper. "Nu-uh. You're wrong. You've made the wrong choice."

"You were chosen by a power far greater than I, Kitty. Far greater than all of us. An authority that was present before the beginning, and will remain after the end. You three were chosen by the gods themselves."

Silence – a gulf of quiescence that seemed to stretch to eternity and back.

Ororo should have suspected as much. After all, she'd basically just called into question everything these three had ever believed about themselves. To suddenly find out that you're not what you thought you were – not *who* you thought you were… Rogue in particular was already embroiled in a crisis of identity. Marie, Rogue, and now something more than either. She was part of something so powerful as the gods' own champion, a legend of millennia past suddenly brought to life inside her – inside all of them, when he should have been consigned to dusty texts and old tapestries. Added to that already weighty blow, to then discover that they must also travel into a den of evil and do battle with one of the worst enemies Earth-Realm had ever known; an enemy who had levelled entire armies and flayed people alive to relieve boredom… well, it was bound to affect them deeply.

Ororo waited with baited breath for a response.

Curiously, it was Rogue who broke the silence, snapping the other two from their trance-like state with the sound of her voice. "I believe you," she said simply, like she was telling them the time of day. "I don't know why, and I don't know how, and though I can't say I don't care about either of those justifications, somehow… I know that what you're saying is true. Ever since I first read Calorsiel's prophecy, I've known that something was coming. Something big. It… frek, it haunted mah dreams. Damn well plagued me 'til I finally accepted I'd have some kinda part to play in it. Until this second, I didn't know what that part was. Now I do know… so I believe you, Ororo the White. I believe you. And I'll do whatever I can to fulfil that there destiny and stop The Silver Sword. I promise."

Ororo smiled a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"I… I think I believe you, too," Kurt piped up weakly. He was clutching the broth bowl so tight, the skin beneath his fur was blanching. His fingers trembled, but his eyes were shining, and his voice held a note of bizarre decisiveness that did not match the rest of him at all.

"Thank you, Kurt. Truly, you have your mother's strength of spirit."

He blushed then, despite himself.

Ororo turned to the last part of the trio. "Kitty? What is your decision?"

Kitty sat, shell-shocked. Her skin was pulled taut across her face, and her eyes were wide with nothing less than total, abject fear. At the sound of her name, she tilted her head, eyes flicking upward. They were shining, too, but not with strength. Terrified moisture crept like dewdrops into her eyelashes, and her gaze held a clearly distressed and jagged edge, as she looked at the Temple Mother.

"My decision?" she whispered, parroting the words but not really hearing them. Then she blinked, and something trickled down her cheek. She didn't even acknowledge the tear. "Do I, like, have a choice?"

"There is always a choice, Kitty," Ororo replied, though it was a rhetorical question. "Always. And this is yours to make."

Kitty's gaze became unfocused, as she again considered what was being asked of her. Disbelief flew around her mind like a trapped bird. It couldn't be true. She was just plain old Kitty Pryde, not some piece of a gigantic cosmic puzzle. She was too small, too insignificant to be a part of anything like that.

_Choice? What choice? Do this, or the world will end. Oh, yeah, big choice. I can't do this…_

She resisted the urge to hold her head. Instead, her hand found its way to her chest, coming to rest above her heart, where she'd always been taught her soul resided. She could feel the faint pulse of lifeblood beneath her palm, and she swallowed, allowing her breath to follow the rhythm so she didn't start hyperventilating.

_No choice. No choice at all… This is too much… too big…_

She rotated her thumb, finding the spot where soul energy was supposed to be strongest. She had a memory of her father teaching her the spot when she was very small, so she knew where to place her hand on the first day of a new year, when she welcomed good spirits into the house and tempted them to stay with the promise of a good, kind soul to care for.

But was it really her soul? Or was it something more? Did she really have part of Rei-Shima's spirit inside her, waiting to be released? The idea seemed quite insane.

As insane as a temple full of randomly magickal beings? As insane as being able to walk through walls and people like a living ghost? As insane as a chimera blowing up her house? As insane as the son of a Demon wanting to be her friend?

"Kätzchen?"

Her head jerked up, perturbed from her thoughts, and her eyes instantly met a pair of pleading gold.

Kurt looked at her from the opposite bed, face full of earnestness. His brows had arched in concern, but his eyes still beseeched her.

She stared at him, and then her gaze slid sideways to where Rogue was also watching. There was none of the usual savageness to the ex-assassin, but an inscrutable expression nestled in her features. Her green eyes peered at Kitty, seeming almost to bore into her. The two of them mirrored each other, obviously willing the last part of their group to join them in the task they were undertaking. Without her, their efforts would be useless and doomed to failure.

Kitty blinked as she realised that, for the first time in her life, she was needed. They really needed her, and if Ororo's story were true, then so did all of Earth-Realm. She had been right – there really was no choice to it. Yet, it wasn't because the world wouldn't let her make any other choice, but because she would let the world give her any other. She couldn't abandon it to the cruelty of The Silver Sword. Not without trying to stop him, at least. If she did, then they'd all be dead anyway, so what was there to lose by trying? What was there to lose by fighting?

_No choice, really…_

She swallowed nervously. "Count me in."

At once, all their faces relaxed.

Ororo sighed happily. She'd found them. She'd discovered the three soul parts of Rei-Shima and turned them to their quest. At long last, she had succeeded in her task. "Thank you. Thank you all."

Rogue leaned forward in her pooled bedclothes, frowning at something. "I have a question though."

"What is it?"

"How?"

Ororo seemed perplexed. "Excuse me?"

"How exactly are we supposed to become Rei-Shima? It's all well and good saying we got his soul inside us, but how exactly are we supposed to let it out and 'resurrect' him, like you say?"

She nodded. It was a valid question. "I'm afraid I have no answer to that, Rogue, since he's never had to be brought back before. Nothing and nobody as dangerous as The Silver Sword has ever arisen since before the Golden Age, before Earth-Realm expanded into the immeasurably multicultural place it is today."

"You mean you're sending us on this here quest to defeat The Silver Sword, but you don't know how the Hells we're supposed to do it?" Rogue snorted. "That's the… Do you know how powerful that guy is? No, stupid question. 'Course you do. You know full well that he's got bucket-loads of magic – much more than any mage ever to walk Earth-Realm. So how are we gonna get him if all we got is the Shrimp's phasing, Kurt's Bamfing, and mah sword?"

Ororo folded her arms pensively, and tapped her chin with one delicate brown finger.

"You're keeping something from us, Ororo." Kurt took a steadying sip from the erstwhile forgotten bowl of broth. It was cold, and starting to congeal, but he didn't care. It filled his stomach and sat like a brick, and if nothing else, Kurt knew that he could rely on a full stomach to be simple and easy to understand. "What is it?"

"Well, there was a theory that each of the soul parts would be activated by its possessor performing some feat that demonstrated what it stood for – like being exceptionally and patently hopeful in the midst of a crisis if you hold the part of Hope."

Kurt spluttered, sending flecks of food onto the floor as the ramifications of the statement flipped over in his brain. His full stomach suddenly tasted sour, and he thought he could trace bile in the back of his throat. "You mean, the one who holds the part of Death would have to *kill* someone?"

"Possibly. As I said, it is simple speculation."

"Is there any way to know which of us got which parts?" Kitty asked feebly.

Ororo shook her head. "No. At least, not until they activate to resurrect Rei-Shima. They might have something to do with each of your personalities. But then again, they might be totally random. I honestly don't know. Calorsiel never spoke of it in such practical terms, and there is no other real reference to resurrecting the gods' champion in any text I have come across. And believe me, I've searched."

"I probably got Death," Rogue surmised. "It makes sense, given mah profession."

The others had to agree.

"Wonder what I got?" Kurt said in a small voice, worrying the rim of his bowl with his fangs. He stopped when the wood began to splinter, spitting out inedible pieces.

"Probably Hope, 'cause you're always so damned positive and cheerful," Rogue growled.

"So that means I got… Love?" Kitty asked, and then scowled. "That's ridiculous. There's, like, nothing in my personality that would reflect that."

Rogue gave her a curious sideways glance. "You sure about that, Shrimp?"

Kitty's scowl deepened, her cheeks colouring a smidgen. "Dead sure."

"Choice phrasing, Kätzchen." Kurt's heart sank as the handsome, distinctly un-fuzzy face of Sam Guthrie swam uninvited into his mind's eye. Hastily, he chased it away. _There are more important things to think about, right now!_

"Well, whatever happens, the fact remains that to have any chance of defeating The Silver Sword, you'll have to go to Belvedere to do it." Ororo wandered over to the window again, looking to where the moon hung bulbous and pale against the night sky. "Since he's aware of the prophecy, he's not leaving his fortress. He's trying to force you to go to him, where he'll have the advantage of his own home territory. This quest will be very dangerous. He's waiting for you, and he's bound to make more attempts on your lives before you get there. His reach is extensive and growing every day."

"We're all aware of that, Ororo." Kurt reached over and placed the empty bowl on the stand. "But if we're to have any chance of defeating him, then we'll *have* to go there. There's just no other way. Whatever happens, he must be stopped."

"We're going to Belvedere," Rogue stated, with an air of finality.

"Yeah." Kitty added, and then felt immediately inept at her contribution. _'Yeah'? Very articulate, Kitty. Not._

Ororo gave a vague smile – a ghost of an expression, really. "I can see why you three were chosen to house the three parts. You're brave and true, just like Rei-Shima was." She surveyed them for a long moment, and then her manner became brisk and practical, reflecting the position of power and authority she held. "You need to leave for Belvedere as soon as possible if you're to avoid further attacks. I don't think The Silver Sword is aware of your current location; otherwise he would surely have made some kind of offence against the temple. We have magicks here that prevent against scrying and suchlike, but they don't really help against more traditional tracking methods. We need to keep him in the dark long enough for you to get to the forest surrounding Belvedere."

"What's in the forest around Belvedere?" Kurt asked.

"A resistance group my Great-great-great-great-grandson is a part of. It's made up of different races The Silver Sword's forces sacked and destroyed the homes of. Most of their people were either killed or taken prisoner, so their numbers are few, but they're powerful fighters, and understandably willing to do anything to bring him down."

Kurt blinked in bewilderment. _Great-great-great-great-grandson? But she looks barely old enough to be a respectable mother. How could *she* have a descendant like that?_

Ororo raised a knowing eyebrow, sensing the elf's train of thought from his expression. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Kurt, but I'm actually over five hundred years old. I have many great-grandchildren, as well as a host of other descendants."

He looked embarrassed at how patent his disbelief must have been, bending his neck slightly and lowering his eyes. "You certainly look good for your age, Bügel-Mutter."

"I'll take that as a compliment. I think. Now, about this resistance group - "

"Ororo," Rogue broke in, "I'm sorry, but I gotta say something. You see, when I became The Rogue, the Guild of Assassins sent a hunting party out to terminate me. Considering how long I was laid up with this Shaking Sickness, it's a fair bet to say that they can't be very far behind me now. There's… there's a good chance they'll try to attack the temple once they know I'm inside."

"With this many Changelings here, good luck to them," Kurt pooh-poohed, wanting to discuss mater of the resistance some more. "They probably won't make it past the front gates without being fried by someone or other."

"And that's another thing." Rogue folded her arms. "You say we need to find this resistance group in the forest around Belvedere. But odds are they're pretty well hidden if they've evaded The Silver Sword for so long. How're we supposed to find them without being caught ourselves? Are you gonna come with us?"

Ororo shook her head, white hair gently brushing her magenta-clad shoulders with a musical 'swish'. "No, I'm not."

Rogue frowned. "Why not? I know for a fact that you're incredibly powerful."

Both Kurt and Kitty shot her strange looks at this, each of them asking the same question; how did she know how powerful Ororo was when they didn't?

Rogue went on. "You could be a great asset against him if you went with us to Belvedere."

Ororo frowned in return. "And what would you have me do when we got there? Fight him? I can't leave this temple undefended. I'm Temple Mother; it's my responsibility to protect this place and its inhabitants."

"The others could come to," Rogue pressed. "They're all Changelings. They could fight alongside us."

"And die alongside us, too." The dark-skinned woman shook her head again. "No, Rogue. We are a peaceful sect. We do not attack, only defend, and only when necessary. Violence is not our way. We have children and elderly to think about, as well as those not in total control of their powers. They wouldn't last five minutes on a journey like this, and would be little more than a hindrance upon arrival."

"With that kind of attitude we're never gonna beat The Silver Sword!" Rogue snarled, contempt evident in her voice.

Ororo, by comparison, sounded sad. "You don't need our help to defeat him. You already have the power, deep inside yourselves. I don't think you realise just how powerful Rei-Shima is. If you believe in that, and in him, then everything will turn out right. I believe this as truly as I believe the sun will rise tomorrow."

"Ororo?" Kitty swallowed hard. "Will we… If we do resurrect this Rei-Shima person, will we… What'll happen to us? I mean, if he's got our souls, or we've got his, or whatever, then where do we go when he's reborn? Do we just… like, not exist anymore?"

"I… I do not know."

"Encouraging." Rogue folded her arms and blew a feather from her bangs.

"It is possible you will return to your three separate bodies after the danger is passed, but…"

"It's also possible that we won't." Kitty looked at her feet. "I understand."

Ororo looked at her for a moment, and then turned to address all three of them. "You needn't worry about finding the resistance group. If you're in the forest, then they'll find you. You'll know them when you see them. And when you do, you must say 'morehu'."

"'Morehu'? What does that mean?" Kurt screwed up his face.

"It's a word from my homeland to the East. It means 'saviour'. The resistance fighters will know what it means, and who you three are if you say it. I'll send word ahead of you to make sure. If the person you meet doesn't respond, then you'll know he or she is a member of The Silver Sword's forces, and an enemy."

"Oh. So it's a password?"

"Basically, yes." Ororo nodded. "Now, as for getting there, who amongst you can ride?"

Kitty's face broke out into a wide, if strained grin, faintly pleased to be presented with something she was good at. Rather than confront the possibility of ceasing to exist of they were successful, she chose the more passive route of just plain ignoring the whole aspect of the venture. "Ride? I practically, like, grew up on horseback!"

"I can ride," Rogue replied, in a more stately fashion. "It sorta came as part and parcel of the job. Good getaway transportation in a tight spot, if y'all know what I mean."

"Kurt?"

All eyes turned expectantly on him, but he shied away from their penetrating stares.

"Can *you* ride?" Ororo queried.

"I… I've only ever seen a horse once in my life," he answered quietly, as if ashamed of his own inexperience when compared to his female companions', "and then I must have spooked it, because its rider tried to get it to stamp on me."

"Oh, Kurt." Kitty's heart went out to him, and she gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll teach you to ride, no problem. It's easy as falling off a log."

"Danke, Kätzchen." Kurt said, though again he winced at her phraseology.

"All right, then," said Ororo's husky baritone. "Tomorrow, you two will commence horseback training at the temple stables. Rogue, *you* will rest and recuperate here in the Infirmary."

"Aw, but I - " Rogue started to protest.

"No, Rogue. You have only just recovered form Shaking Sickness. You need all the rest you can garner to regain your strength. No doubt Teah will help you, but she has other responsibilities, and therefore you must to help yourself, also. You'll need to be in top form if you want to reach The Silver Sword. Much less defeat him. Kitty will teach Kurt to ride so that you can take some of our horses to reach Belvedere faster. *You* will stay here and recuperate. Do I make myself clear?"

Rogue scowled at being treated like a wayward child, and a growl rose to her throat. Her fingers involuntarily curled into claws, nails digging into the crook of her own arm.

"Rogue," Kurt said warningly, in that special way of his.

She sighed. "Yeah, yeah, all right."

"Good." The white-haired woman clapped her hands together, as if ending the discussion in a more formal manner. "Then all is settled. Someone will come along to fetch you tomorrow morning, Kitty, Kurt, and take you to the stables. For now, I think it's best that you all get some sleep."

They couldn't disagree with that, and Kitty punctuated the moment by covering a yawn with her hand. It had been a long, emotionally and physically draining day, and they were all three of them tired. Even Rogue, after her long induced slumber, appeared rather worn by what she'd undergone in the few short hours since her awakening.

Like a mother hen, Ororo shooed the other two out of the room, giving Teah a perfunctory call before leaving. She made swift her departure after a baby's pitiable cries greeted her voice instead of the healer's, hurrying out of the door and closing it softly behind her.

Outside, she led the elf and Changeling girl back to their respective rooms. They made no light conversation as they would usually have done, and Ororo made no attempt to initiate any. It was obvious they wanted to be alone with their thoughts and ruminations concerning the revelatory news she'd revealed so suddenly to them. It was understandable really, and the Temple Mother fixed a grim smile to her face, as she bid them both goodnight and trailed off to her own private chambers. Should anyone have met her, they would not have been able to tell this night was different than any other. Not until she'd firmly closed her door and sunk down in her favourite chair did she let her mask slip.

And slip it did, in a shattering of happy fragments, revealing the misery beneath. Her blue eyes held such sorrowfulness that it would have made any heart bleed to look upon – the sorrow of knowledge she just hadn't been able to bring herself to tell them. Inwardly, she cursed herself for her mortal weakness, but it had just been too far to push. They were already dealing with so much, and dealing admirably, too. To suddenly find out that you bear part of the soul of the gods' own champion, and must untie them to resurrect said warrior, was a mammoth responsibility. Even she had to admire the strength of spirit in each of them for accepting both it and what they must do without running screaming in fear – although Kitty had come very close. Loading them with rumour and sceptical, unproven suspicions was too much right now…

An unhappy breath escaped her lips, and she cupped her forehead in her hands. When Kurt had asked about the person bearing Death having to kill someone, she had almost choked. The urge to tell them was so strong – especially when Rogue laid claim to that part of the soul. Both he and Kitty had such a strong bond with the ex-assassin; it was like she was the glue that held them together.

Or was she? Ororo wasn't stupid, and she hadn't missed the furtive looks passed between those two when they thought nobody was watching. She hadn't failed to see the adoration shining in Kurt's eyes when he looked at the Changeling, or the embarrassment and pain in Kitty's at the idea of possessing the soul part of Love. She would have smiled at their young affections, unrequited but increasing with every passing day, except that the knowledge she held to her breast was too weighty, and too sobering for merriment of any kind. She had her suspicions about Calorsiel's true meaning, but she dared not voice them aloud, lest she tempt fate into making them come to pass.

Yet, as she sat there in her darkened room, head in her hands, she couldn't help whispering to herself the lines that had caused her such worry – the words she hadn't been able to speak to those three youngsters, no matter how hard she tried.

"Be warned, for salvation comes at a high price. Death is the end, and yet through it we shall be saved, and the guilty sent to burn in the light of destiny."

*******************

To Be Continued...

*******************

*TRANSLATIONS*

GERMANIC

Was ist mit mir falsch? ~ What's wrong with me?

Geliebtes. ~ Beloved.

Eine ältere Schwester, möglicherweise? ~ An older sister, maybe?

Fraulein Schlechtes Temper. ~ Miss Bad Temper.

Wundervoll! Ich bin hungrig. ~ Wonderful! I'm hungry.

Nerven, sehen Sie ~ Nerves, you see.

GEHIN

The sharp-eyed may notice that Rogue uses the word 'frek' in this chapter. This is basically just another lovely little curse she knows, and is most commonly used in forms such as 'frek you', 'I'm frekked', and the ever-popular 'frekbar', which is just frek but upped to another level of blue language. "Oh… *frekbar*!"