--The Fourth Realm--

A fanfic taking place in the Realms of the Blood, created by

Anne Bishop whom I worship and pay tribute to every day.

Just kidding. Or so you think.

(Written by the Great and Powerful Keski,

spell checked by Microsoft Works Word Processor)

---

Chapter XI

Mistakes

---

The Kjeran scientist pulled an insectoid claw up to tap thoughtfully on his forehead. His appearance was only slightly intimidating to the smallish man. Slightly intimidating were his two praying mantis-like claws, though they were jet black and razor sharp. Slightly intimidating were his six long black jointed legs, also jet black, ending in needle-like points. Slightly intimidating were his two solid red bulging faceted eyes. Slightly intimidating were the wings that resembled those of a locust—save, of course, that they were on a much larger scale. The only human part of his appearance was his head, for even his torso was black and protected by a black exo-skeleton that was as impenetrable as armor.

"Results," he said in a strange accent. "Results are not of what have Iexpected."

The smallish man looked from the quivering mass of flesh on the table, to the Kjeran, and then down to the floor. "It's bad?"

"Not necessarily. Is not bad results. Simply unexpected. Experiment will must to be altered accordingly."

"What will happen to..." The man broke off and inclined his head to the slowly awakening creature that had once been human.

The scientist looked at the man, his large, round, faceted insect eyes taking in his distressed appearance. "It will to be disposed of. Why are you ask?"

"I--No reason. So... What shall I tell the Lord?"

The scientist raised a black claw that hinged back and forth on the joint. "Why are you to think you not tell him the truth?"

The man's jaw opened, closed, and opened again. "Then I'll see you after I report back."

"Do that."

---

Althemen, the new leader simply by a unanimous lack of argument, spun around. Something had troubled him. His eyes flitted about, trying to find any living thing except his current companions. Everyone else had stopped and was doing the same. It was Satiyen who first noticed a major detail, after only a few seconds. "Where's Alnevar?"

"I don't know," Althemen growled, his eyes resting on Luseik. "Luseik was walking in the back. He should have seen anything that happened to Alnevar."

"I didn't," Luseik said murderously. "I only just noticed he was gone."

"What, you were so deeply engrossed in your so-called concern for my daughter that you didn't notice when Alnevar was suddenly spirited away in front of you?" Althemen strode up to Luseik.The draghanstepped back.

"I told you, I didn't see anything. I wasn't watching Alnevar."

"You're a liar," Althemen snarled. "I hate Alnevar, and I want him dead, but I swear to you that I will be the one to make that come to pass, not you, or anyone you're working with."

"Who in Hell would I be working with!" Luseik snarled right back at the half-Eyrien. "My only mission is to return safely with Anna. Why would I harm a member of the group that is helping me do just that! If I harmed anyone it would be you, the pretentious, self-important--"

Althemen roughly grabbed Luseik's shoulder and his eyes flashed so that only Luseik could see them. Luseik's eyes widened. "You're one of--"

"Would you like to tell me what really happened to Alnevar?"

"I honestly don't know." Luseik shrugged off Althemen's hand as if he hadn't seen whatever he had seen in Althemen's eyes.

---

"What do you mean, you can't show me the results?"

"I have said. Is dangerous, too much dangerous to allow get you close to experiment."

The smallish man ground his teeth. "The Lordis not happy. He wants results, and he wants results by month's end at the latest."

The Kjeran sighed, a vaguely sibilant sound that almost sounded like a rapid clicking. His voice had the same clicking quality when he said, "Is still too dangerous. The subject is… I cannot know word… subject is scared."

"He's scared? Why?"

"Has forgot who he is, where he is, what was happened to him."

"So he's not himself anymore?"

"Is still self. Lost memories, all, but still has personality."

"Oh, wonderful. The one thing we would have preferred that he lose."

"Yes. Is now vicious, though, is scared, wants information I cannot give. What is happen to him, where is, you imagine the rest."

"Yeah, I can." The man bit his lip. "Is he still… Can we still…"

"With training, will be as useful tothe Lordas you. Is good, yes?"

"Yes. Is very good.The Lordwill be very pleased with this. How soon will the, uh, subject be ready for… use?"

"The Lordwant results by end of month, yes? Then, subject will be ready by end of month."

The man smiled and nodded. "Very good. Thank you." He raised his hand to shake the scientist's, but paused and eyed the insectoid claw.

The Kjeran laughed. "One moment." He stood back, and within seconds, all of the black, exo-skeleton covered extremities had bent in on themselves, skin folding over them. In half a minute, a perfectly normal human stood there. He extended a hand.

The smallish man smiled. "Again, thank you, Doctor Keev. Rest assured, you will be greatly rewarded by your service to Lord Versiver."

---

Satiyen growled, unable to help himself. "We don't have time for this! Why can't we—Why can't we retrieve Anna, finish Oebr's pointless mission, and then try to find Alnevar?"

"Because," Althemen snapped, "I happen to know something about what's going on. An—My daughter wouldn't so readily abandon her friends simply because she was mad at one of them," he finished, shooting an icy glare at Luseik.

"Then what is going on? Please, inform the rest of us," Luseik said quietly.

"It is most likely that Anna is under a compulsion spell. One placed by an experienced Black Widow. Remember our little friend who rigged the drawbridge?"

"Mother night," Satiyen breathed. "Anna is in even more danger than we thought."

"I'd be willing to bet my life that Anna was softened with a subtle compulsion spell, nothing specific, just a spell to make her a bit more agreeable, a bit more compliant. Otherwise she'd notice the spell. Add onto that the allure of an offer for the use of one of these special Jewels—"

"You can't be serious! Anna wouldn't give in to that kind of bribe, it's exactly what we were sent here to stop!" Luseik was rubbing his forehead as he spoke.

"Then maybe the Black Widow who weaved our compulsion spell is a little more experienced than we know. Look, Luseik, you don't like me and I don't like you, but if we don't act fast, Anna will be lost to us forever. We're facing a dragon, Luseik. A dragon who is of the same species as the dragon Lord Lorn himself."

"Lorn!"

"Keep your damn voice down. I know a great deal more than you may think, and some very specific details about the nature of Lorn and his species are included in that knowledge."

"But—"

"You don't have as many allies as you think, Prince, and if you don't stop arguing I'll kill you right now and tell Versiver there was a terrible mistake."

"He won't believe you."

Althemen's eyes flashed again, and again, only Luseik saw them. "Won't he?"

Luseik narrowed his eyes. Althemen now seemed to remember the presence of Keski and Satiyen, who stared from where they stood several feet away. Althemen stared intently at Satiyen, who took a step back. "I only want to complete my mission," he said, "and that's to get Anna."

Althemen said something under his breath as he brushed past Satiyen, but no one quite caught it.

---

"Then our masters happen to have the same goal this time." For a fleeting moment, he thought he'd said that a bit too loud, but as no one responded, Althemen didn't fret. He continued down the hallway. Alnevar… Oh, Althemen knew exactly what had happened to Alnevar, and that fool was perfectly safe, even if no one else realized it. And the pretentious fool who'd snatched Alnevar from under their noses… Alnevar knew exactly who it was, and he'd pay for this disturbance.

Menteur would see to that.

---

"No! I want to know what is going on! I'm not going to do anything until you tell me what in Hell is going on!"

"Calm yourself." Versiver set down his empty glass and gave an inquiring look to the man standing beside him, who instantly stepped forward to refill the glass.

"I will repeat myself once more. I am Versiver, consort and husband to Kennesra, ruler of Hayll."

"Hayll?"

"Dachrea."

"Oh. Still—"

"If you want information, you will kindly hold your tongue until you get it."

The disheveled man sitting in the chair across from Versiver bit his tongue.

"You were, until approximately one month previous, a subordinate of mine. You volunteered for experimental research in creating something."

"Creating what?"

"Why, Skaviar, I thought you'd at least remember the answer to that."

"Well, I don't."

"You volunteered yourself for an experiment in creating the perfect tool. And, Skaviar, my good friend of two hundred and thirty-seven years… They succeeded."

---

"Versiver doesn't know we stole the information from the experiment." The words were hurriedly spoken to the young, handsome blond man as he strode down the corridor alongside the nervous scientist. "Versiver doesn't know we've got spies in his service, and he doesn't know we're now capable of creating the same kind of tool he's made out of the man named Skaviar."

"Then what shall we do with this advantage? I'm not here to catch up on current events, Dieg, I'm here to find out what Menteur wants me to do."

"Of course, sir," the scientist said, nodding as he struggled to keep up with the man's long stride. "Menteur wants to duplicate the procedure. We've done it on another man, and it worked perfectly on his body, but he couldn't mentally or emotionally adapt to the changes and we had to… We terminated him. Menteur thinks you're fully capable of handling it, though. He wants you to be the subject of the procedure."

"Is it safe?"

"Perfectly. You won't feel any pain, during or after the procedure. The alterations will be purely beneficial."

"Then I'm in."

"Really?"

"We can't afford to let Versiver get too far ahead of us, right? And if you say the procedure is safe, Dieg, then I trust you."

Dieg smiled. "Then meet me here tomorrow at midday."

"Can do. In the meantime, I've got an appointment."

"Then I'll leave you to it, Prince Althemen."

---

Althemen swirled his wine glass a mere hour after his conversation with Dieg, gazing at the beautiful young woman sitting across the table from him, so intently staring at her lap, in which she wrung her hands constantly.

"I've been to this restaurant many times," he said, raising an eyebrow. "The food is quite good."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly, and took a small bite of the expensive steak that sat on the plate before her.

"You're spending an awful lot of time looking at your hands," Althemen persisted. "Am I that frightening?"

"No! I just—It's been a long time since I've been out to eat with anyone."

"Really? That's surprising. You're a very pretty girl."

"A girl? I'm at least fifty years old."

"And yet, in keeping with your Hayllian blood, you haven't aged a day since your twentieth birthday. Do you know how old I am, Lady? Two centuries. Two hundred years I have been alive. I do not believe I am old; I look, in fact, only as old as you. I daresay you are hardly 'old' and will not be so for many years yet."

The woman bit her lip and looked down again.

"Which is why I want to say what I asked you here to tell you… We both have many long years ahead of us." Althemen strove to catch her eye, but she avoided it desperately. "Many long years," he repeated. "I—I've never met a woman to whom I could say this, but…" He reached out and took one of her hands, drawing it towards him to hold it in both of his own. She found herself looking at him as he tried to peer into her very soul through her light blue eyes. "I want to spend those years with you. And despite the shyness you affect, despite the way you avoid my eyes because you see yourself as such a lowly commoner compared to me… Despite all that, I think you want the same thing."

She pulled her hand away slowly. "You're not… You can't… Althemen, I couldn't… Please…"

Althemen stood up, pushing his chair back gently, and came around the small table to kneel in front of her. He sensed a few interested stares, but kept his eyes fixed on the woman.

"I've spent months trying to think of when, where, how I would ask you," he said, "and I finally decided that simplicity is the best." He took her left hand in his own while his right dove into his pocket to emerge holding a small black box. His thumb flipped it open to reveal a simple but elegant silver ring with a single black stone facing directly up.

"Mother Night," the woman breathed. "Althemen, please—"

"I have to ask," he said quietly. More stares were upon him now. "Would—would you please consider doing me the honor of allowing me to become your husband?"

She stared at him. "Althemen…"

"I know that you are not comfortable around high society," Althemen said, "and it is not a problem. I can help you, teach you how to—"

"Althemen, I can't."

"But why?"

"I just can't." She jumped up, knocking her chair back. All eyes were on the couple now. "Althemen… I'm sorry." And with that, she turned and fled the restaurant.

"Tesora!" Althemen jumped up as if to follow her. "Tesora, please!"

The stares, out of respect, turned away, though Althemen knew the dinner conversation tonight would likely concern the fiasco. He let himself collapse back into his chair and stared at the wine glass. "Tesora…"

He picked up the wine glass, drained it, and signaled the waiter for another bottle.