((I know! I know! I took forever! I'm sorry!

Good/bad news, though. There's two more chapters left in this story. Then the third (and final, I swear) story will come along. It might take a couple months, though. I need to get Spirit Fading out of the queasy "before everything happens" phase it's in. It's really annoying right now. Not to mention I've got to come up with a title for the third story. I hate titles. I'm not any good at them, and I always have to have the right one.))

…

Screaming in the darkness. Furious wails shattered the silence like a fist through glass.

The shards of broken silence pierced his flesh and he cringed.

"I hate you!"

"Do you know why he betrayed us?"

"You never smile."

"Sade? Sade why don't you smile anymore?"

"Sade? Why don't you laugh anymore?"

"You never smile."

Voices. Clamoring for his attention, all speaking at once. He tried to concentrate on them, but his mind felt numb, dead. The words flew at him like arrows and the screams continued.

"You don't question anything. You just kill whoever you think needs killing and call it a good day."

"Oh, don't you play innocent! Your whole tribe does it, but none of them go so far as to push them all the way out here! I can't even sense your emotions they're so far out there. It's not healthy!

"And why not? Because if I say it aloud you'll realize you've been thinking it all this time?"

"What is your name?"

"And why not? Because if I say it aloud you'll realize you've been thinking it all this time?"

"What is your name?"

"And why not? Because if I say it aloud you'll realize you've been thinking it all this time?"

"What is your name?"

"What is your name?"

"What is your-"

Sade sat up, his breathing viciously controlled to keep from gasping unnecessarily. Was he really awake? He needed to know and didn't. The terror of his training failing hit him full force and suddenly he had to know if he was dreaming or not.

The dagger was in his paw and slicing open his forearm in an instant. The pain struck viciously, and the tension left him. He was awake, then.

Good.

Automatically, he bandaged the cut and looked around him, seeing more in the darkness than most could. Despite his mind beginning to reject the training, his body was still used to the skills he had attained and refused to let them slip.

There were two other creatures in the tent. Root and Redsplash. The wildcat had taken a general's tent and moved the squirrel and the otter into a tent guarded by fifteen creatures, all heavily armed. Sade had already killed five of them to illustrate his feelings on the matter, and knew he would kill five more before allowing himself to sleep again.

It was strange, this new interest in killing. Before, he had never wanted to kill. It had just been what he had to do. As necessary as breathing. But now…now that some kind of moral inkling of the guilt of all those murders and started trickling into his mind, he found the ease of it appealing.

An irreplaceable part of the world, good, bad, neutral, or some combination of all three, was gone. And he had killed it. It was some strange emotion in him now, one that he could not place, having listened to hundreds of others describe to him how they 'felt.' Some combination of revenge, guilt, and…perhaps amusement?

Maybe.

But then, he would never really understand. He planned on dying before he had the chance too.

…

"Are you alright, otter?" Strange, that question. The truth was never acceptable. Of course he wasn't alright. He'd gone numb on the inside. He couldn't feel anymore. A strange feeling of screaming and screaming and never making a sound had pulled him, choking, from his nightmares and had yet to fade away.

"Always." The expected answer. The acceptable one. The only one he dared now to speak.

"You cannot always be alright." A laugh hidden in the words. He was being mocked. Fallen bit back the scream that tried to rise up in him. There would be no point in losing control. "You have to be happy, sometimes, and sad. If it were possible to be one thing at any time, we'd be nothing all the time."

"Don't speak your riddles to me, badger." A quiet, thoughtful tone when he wanted to snarl. "I long ago grew tired of riddles."

"Life is a riddle."

"Who hasn't grown tired of living?" Fallen retorted and turned away from the arrow slit that allowed him a tiny view of the sky, crossing his arms over his chest, despite the pain that shrieked from his injured arm.

"I haven't." Advigilian answered, his eyes staring out at the sky with a look of patient anxiety. Almost as if he knew he was going to die and knew he could do nothing to stop it. "I was, I suppose, but the closer I come to death the more I want to escape it."

Numbness. Creeping from his heart to infect his mind. Did he even care if he died? If that black otter came along and ripped his guts out with a fishing hook, would he even care enough to acknowledge the injustice of it? "If you do not want to die, why do you stay here?"

"Because it is my duty to die here." Advigilian shrugged. "The hares must leave, but I must stay. My ancestors won't be appeased until they see my skull stuck on the ferret's castle walls."

"And what have you done to your ancestors that requires your death as atonement?" Numb to everything. Why could he not feel?

"Nothing." Advigilian laughed. "I was never what they wanted me to be. When I was supposed to be killing, I was always granting mercy. When I was supposed to be merciful, I was always killing." He looked down at the floor, a troubled look on his face. "I had the chance to kill the Nameless One once."

A streak of shock stabbed through him and he held to it as long as it lasted. A bolt of lightening to the shield of numbness, and both cracked in their own way. "What?"

"He came through here back when his band was small, and his reputation was little more than whispers of a small village or two entirely annihilated. My hares and I killed all of his followers. Him, though…" Advigilian shook his head. "If you have ever seen the Nameless One, or even heard him speak, you'd understand why I let him go. I had too much respect for life, I suppose, but executing him seemed like it would be such a waste. He was the type destined to be great. Do you understand? It was not clear, even then, if he would be evil or good, but whatever he chose he would be great, and I was still foolish enough to believe that good would always triumph. I gambled on right, and I was betrayed. There is no good in vermin, otter. They have no souls."

"Then who does?" Fallen demanded, bitter in a distant, detached sort of way. "If the ones we battle have no souls, then do we? And if they do have no souls, than they can't help how they are. It's like killing a bird for flying. If we believe that vermin have no souls, and we kill them for the things they do, then we have to admit we're tarnishing our own. Perhaps ruining them completely."

"Then admit it otter. Because if you don't, you'll hesitate someday. You'll have the opportunity to save the world from a curse, and you won't do it. We have to kill them, Fallen. Because if we don't, their actions become our responsibility. Every life that ferret claimed or broke or harmed since I let him go isn't his fault. It was just his nature. It's my fault because I had the chance to kill him, and I didn't take it."

A deep breath. The expected words again. Just enough sympathy to sound sincere. "You can hardly blame yourself."

The badger turned on him with a snarl and the otter realized, vaguely, why most called it madness to challenge a badger. They were terrifying creatures when angry. "It is my fault!" The badger roared. Fallen's eyes narrowed slightly, and he wondered if the badger would really fight him. It would be, if nothing else, very interesting. But Advigilian sighed and looked away. "I've settled with that a very long time ago, otter. I don't need someone to tell me something I know isn't true."

"Then why do you still rage?" Fallen demanded, looking down the long hallway and wondering, if he ran fast enough, could he run back to the time when he, too, let his chance to kill the Nameless One fall away.

Advigilian frowned, his eyes echoing of past pain. "I knew he would come here eventually." Advigilian muttered, so quiet Fallen could barely hear him. "I just always thought he would come himself. I expected no mercy, but I did expect him to respect me enough to come watch me die instead of hearing about it from his little messengers. Death has never seemed so useless as it does now."

"Useless?" That seemed the strangest way to describe death.

"Yes. Useless. Pointless. Futile. Pathetic. It is a shame that this mountain will fall to vermin, but it has always been destined too."

"How could you know?"

"We badger lords of Salamandastron have always been acquainted with the future. But in the hundreds of seasons we have ruled here, that knowledge has never given us joy."

Fallen stared and him and then looked away. "I don't suppose the future would be any happier than the present, and I don't suppose anyone should ever expect it to be."

Advigilian stared at him for a second and then, suddenly, laughed. The annoyingly amused badger was back, and the bitterly thoughtful one was banished. "A little cynical, aren't we?"

Fallen's eyes snapped to his. "I hardly think it's a laughing matter. In fact it seems a rather serious matter to me."

"Who has time to be serious when there is so much to laugh at?" Advigilian retorted. "Might as well die laughing. Seems like it would be more pleasant than to die crying."

"You need to get more sleep, badger. You're talking nonsense."

"Oh, don't you dare condescend to me, otter. I was damning the world for once and for eternity before you were born!"

"Yes. You'd think you'd have learned something by now."

…

Darkclaw scowled at the mountain. The army was about two miles back, still relatively out of sight and commanded to stay that way. The element of surprise was rather wasted, as the badger had been warned, but Darkclaw preferred not to have a bunch of confused idiots blundering around. He'd have to have a word with them, of course, but he'd wanted to get them to the mountain first. He'd needed to think of what exactly he was going to say.

"You asked for me?" Sade. Ah, yes. That one.

"Yes. Did you bring your master?"

"She's asleep."

"Had too much to drink last night?"

"I believe her and the squirrel got into a competition." Sade answered. "What do you want?"

"We have some hostages." Darkclaw told him, gesturing over his shoulder at the army. "Random beasts they grabbed on their march here. There's no use to having them, so I want you to kill them."

"You want me to execute them?"

"Yes."

"Is there any specific purpose?"

"Not really. I just don't want to feed them. And from the mess you left of those guards, I've gathered you have no qualms about killing the defenseless."

"They had weapons."

Darkclaw laughed and raised an eyebrow. "So you'll justify it like the hares and otters do, will you? They had weapons, so it was a fair fight?"

Sade blinked suddenly, and seemed to shiver without moving at all. "I justify nothing. They had weapons, and so were not defenseless. Had they been weaponless, I still would have killed them."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Darkclaw shook his head, smiling softly. "Kill the hostages, otter."

"Of course." Sade's eyes narrowed at the mountain, ignoring the slightly surprised look on the wildcat's face. "I suppose you want me to kill them in view of those in the mountain?"

"Obviously. And don't kill them all at once."

"Obviously." Sade replied in exactly the same dismissive tone Darkclaw had just used on him.

…

"What're you doing?" Redsplash scowled at Sade, eyes narrowed.

"Preparing to execute defenseless beasts." Sade replied distantly, looking at her blankly. "Is that not something you wanted me to do?"

"Not particularly, no. You're supposed to be guarding me."

"I imagine if I had refused Darkclaw he would have manipulated the situation until a substantial death threat was placed against you and you were forced to order me to kill them. It was more efficient if I simply followed his orders when they were issued." Sade wasn't even looking at her anymore as he went about cleaning the skinning knife he'd pulled out of his pack.

"What happens if I get attacked?"

"An entire army would descend upon the attacker and kill them." Sade informed her. "Darkclaw's already ordered the entire army to watch you."

"He's what?"

"Ordered the army to keep you from harm." Sade glanced at her. "Isn't safety what you wanted?"

"Yes, but not to be treated like a child! I can take care of myself!"

"Then why was my protection required?"

Redsplash glared at him. "Because it was!" She bellowed. "But fine, play your little killing games! And if I die, I order you to live forever!" She stalked off, and Sade stared after her, some disgusting emotion slithering across his consciousness. She had no idea what she'd just sentenced him too.

…

"What are those idiots doing?"

Advigilian turned to glare at the hare who had spoken. "Get back to work!" He snapped. "We need to get the children out before we're surrounded."

"I don't like this idea." Fallen admitted. "I don't think the group will make it to Redwall."

Advigilian scowled. "I've done all I can do for them. I've sent all the adults that I can persuade to go, and the elderly hares aren't near as weak as I made them think they were. If it comes to a fight, some of them would survive."

Fallen shook his head. "I don't like it."

"You think I do? I don't have a choice! I ran out of time!"

Fallen watched the hares scurrying past. "They're taking too much food." He pointed out blandly.

"What?"

"If any of the hares in here are to survive, you're letting the travelers take too much food."

"You know as well as I do that none who stay will survive." Advigilian muttered quietly.

"Yes, but you don't want your fighters to know that."

"They already do."

"Defeatist attitudes will only get you defeated." Fallen retorted and then straightened. "Fine. If you won't ask me to do it, I'll volunteer."

"What're you talkin' about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Otherwise you wouldn't've woken me up to tell me the hares are leaving." Fallen stretched slowly, frowning. "I'll take the travelers a safe distance away and point them in Redwall's direction. And I'll make sure there's enough food. You may be planning on dying, but I'm not."

"Then don't come back." Advigilian told him. "You're not part of this mountain, Fallen. You don't have to be here to watch it fall."

"I'm part of the world, badger, and I have my own scores to settle." He shrugged. "Besides, I doubt I will die here."

"Must be nice."

Fallen blinked at him. "I'm taking over the travelers and restricting their food supply. You might want to tell them I have authority before I have to fight for it."

"Fine." Advigilian hesitated and shifted as if uncomfortable. "And thank you for getting them away from here."

"I'm the hero of the time, badger." Fallen gave a quick, meaningless smile that seemed like an excuse to grimace. "What else could I do?"

…

"Squirrel!" Someone was shaking him. "Squirrel, wake up!"

"Wha' d'you want?" Root demanded, throwing an arm out wildly in a hope to slap his attacker over the face.

"The otter is gone!"

Root snorted and gestured to his left. "Red's over there."

"No, she's not. That's the problem." The idiot kept shaking him. "She's gone missing."

Root gave a heavy sigh and rubbed at his eyelids, sitting up slowly. A ferret was crouched down beside him. "Redsplash is missing." The ferret told him excitedly.

Root glanced over at where Redsplash should've been curled up, snoring her little heart out. "Hmm…guess she is. Sade's probably with her, though."

"The other otter? No. He's gettin' ready to kill the captives."

"Oh, damn." Root groaned. "I didn't wanna hear that. From now on, don't tell me anythin' that would send a happy mouse mother into hysterics, alright?"

"Uh…alright."

"Good." Root nodded and stood up to peer out the tent. "Why can I see a mountain?"

"Because we're at Salamandastron."

"How'd I get here?"

"You were carried in a wagon. I think the…Sade got you to drink some kind of sleeping potion, sir."

"Oh, alright then." Root felt altogether bad. You're sober. He rolled his eyes.

I know.

You shouldn't drink so much.

It shuts you up. Now stop talking to me, I'm trying to concentrate.

"Should I tell Sade that Redsplash is-"

"No." Root interrupted with surprising vehemence. I know where she's gone. "I'll get her."

"Alone, sir?"

"Of course."

"It's not safe."

"Is it ever?" Root retorted and grabbed the dagger from the ferret's belt before bounding off towards where he knew Redsplash would be. This is gonna be a long day.

…

Redsplash didn't know what had led her back here. It was stupid. How she even recognized this pathetic little lump, she wasn't quite sure. But she knew. Knew exactly whose body was buried here.

"Fate…" A whisper that tore itself past her lips. She clamped her jaw shut so hard her entire skull shook. He was dead! He couldn't hear her.

With a sigh, she let herself slip to the ground. The recognition that she was lying so that, if she were to die and be buried now, she would be laying right beside Fatefiend, was barely more than a whisper. She wasn't sure what had brought her here, and she didn't know what to do with this fierce ache in her gut. It wouldn't leave her alone anymore.

"It isn't fair, Fate." More words slipping out. Strange, how she didn't even care now. "I never did anything. I never deserved all of this."

A brief pause, and she knew what Fatefiend would have said. He would have reminded her of all those relatively innocent beasts she'd slaughtered to ease her own life. He'd bring up how she lacked a conscience and how her eyes had that odd tendency to turn red and betray the berserker inside her.

"Before all that, Fate. Before you met me. You know now, don't you? You said you did. I didn't deserve it then, Fate. I never did anything to deserve this."

"That's not how it works."

"Fate?"

A deep, fatigued sigh. "No. I'm sorry, Redsplash."

Redsplash opened her eyes and saw Root, a tired, sick look on his face. He seemed thinner than she remembered, as if something had snuck inside him and was eating away at him. "Root."

"Yes. 's just me." He seemed to waver for a minute, almost like a mirage, and then kneeled and shook his head as if it pained him.

"You sick?"

"Sober."

"My sympathies." Redsplash murmured. "What're you doin' here?"

"Some ferret woke me up to tell me you were missing. Seems Darkclaw's got the army watchin' you."

"I know. He thinks I can't take care of myself."

"You can't."

"What?"

"I can't. Darkclaw can't. Sade can't. If we were ever meant to take care of ourselves, we wouldn't have mothers. Or fathers. Or siblings. Or even friends. We aren't supposed to be solitary creatures, Redsplash. Why d'you think it hurts so much when someone dies?"

"I dunno. I've never really thought about it."

"No. You don't seem to be too much of a philosopher."

"I'm not even quite sure what that word means."

Root snorted like he was too tired to laugh. "I didn't think so."

"'s not fair, you know."

"I know." Root agreed and there was a brief pause. "What's not fair?"

"That Fatefiend had to die. He was never… I mean, he shouldn't have ever…"

"Died? He was gonna die eventually, Redsplash. Was this death so bad?"

"Yes." Redsplash snapped, lifting herself up on an elbow to glare at him for a second before falling backwards, tired. "He never should've been murdered, Fate. An' if it had to happen, it should've been his father. He was supposed to be murdered while tryin' to kill his father, or never murdered at all."

"There's never a way we're supposed to die, Redsplash. I'm not entirely sure any of us should ever die. It's just the way things have to happen."

"How d'you wanna die?"

"I don't have a favorite way to die. I imagine I'll die in a few days, though."

"What?" This time she used both elbows to support herself as she sat up halfway.

"I'm not the best fighter." Root shrugged. "I imagine I'll die tryin' to kill that badger of yours."

Redsplash frowned, eyes narrowed and eyebrows drawn together. "You shouldn't have to die because I wanna kill a badger, Root."

"No, I really shouldn't, but that's loyalty for you. The only thing it's good for is an honorable death."

"Loyalty? What makes you loyal to me?"

"I used to be a slave, remember?" Root demanded, sounding vaguely amused. "I don't imagine it was Darkclaw's idea to save me, and Fatefiend…well, he's dead. So my loyalty goes to you."

"It just doesn't seem right. Death is worse than slavery. You don't owe me your life."

"Slavery is infinitely worse than death, Redsplash." Root retorted. "Look what it's done to you."

Redsplash winced. "What d'you mean?"

"Can you imagine what you'd be like if you'd never been a slave? If you'd never had to escape the Nameless One?"

"I'd be weak." Redsplash snapped. "Useless."

"Happy."

"So?" Redsplash demanded. "I'd've never met Fatefiend."

"And you would've never mourned his death."

"But I would've never met him!" Redsplash snarled.

Root nodded slowly and stood up, looking ill and worn out, bored of life and sick of the taste of air. "So d'you see now, Redsplash? Let Fatefiend's death go. It's not as bad as it would've been if you'd never met him."

…

The hares wanted to rest. Of course they wanted to rest. He'd kept them at a run for nearly two hours now. It was a wonder the older ones and the children had lasted this long. But Fallen was used to miracles, and he would push these hares until he felt he had achieved another one.

He was tired of being responsible for the world, but it was a burden someone had to bear, and he wasn't aware of anyone else who could. So it was his world, and they were his creatures, and it was his duty to protect them. Many of them thought he possessed some kind of magical power. Some strength the world had given to him to guard its creatures with. But, no. He didn't believe he had that. All he had were seasons of training and his futile and clichéd quest for redemption.

"Sir, we need to stop." This obvious statement was voiced with much panting and gasping.

Fallen glanced at the hare running beside him. As far as Fallen could tell, this would be their leader. The hare was a bit young for it, but age had little affect on leadership capabilities. It was only the arrogance of the adults that kept many decent and brilliant leaders down until they were old enough to behave only as hundreds had before them.

He decided to ignore the hare. Of course they needed to stop. But they also needed to survive.

…

"I don't suppose I could convince you not to kill the mouse?" Root questioned tiredly, his eyes locked on the struggling mouse that Sade was currently pondering how to kill.

"No." Sade answered calmly.

"Can I convince you to kill him quick?"

"It's possible." Sade admitted and elaborated at Root's look of surprise. "The wildcat didn't specify how I was to kill them."

"Then just slit his throat. Why be cruel when you don't have to be?"

"Why not?"

"Because what would the world be like if everyone was cruel when they didn't have to be?" Root demanded, attempting to avoid seeing the look of desperation in the mouse's eyes and failing miserably.

Sade seemed to think on this as he tested the perfect balance of a knife. "There would be no change." He decided finally. "Except in you and a few others, perhaps, and I doubt the numbers would be high enough to have a large effect on the world."

Root scowled and decided to change tactics. "Come on, Sade, what's the point? It's just a waste of energy."

"Actually," Sade began with a small, secretive smile that seemed to Root to come straight out of a nightmare, "I think I like it."

"What?"

"I'm not sure." Sade admitted with a minor shrug. "But I think I like it. I admit to being a bit confused as to what happiness and joy are supposed to feel like."

"Sade," Root looked at him with eyes infected with depression, "you're killing me. Seriously. All I'm asking is that you don't kill the mouse all slow and whatnot. It's cruel and it's useless, and I don't want you to!"

Sade glanced up at the mountain. "I have to drag it out long enough for the screams to get the attention of those in the mountain." The otter told him calmly. "As I only plan on killing three today, I want to get their attention with this one. I can't be wasteful with this. After all, you get no second chances with death."

"No, you don't." Root admitted distantly.

Sade glanced at him and, without looking, tossed up the knife, catching it easily by the tip and took in the look of disturbed awe on Root's face. "No one's making you stay and watch, squirrel. You should go get some sleep."

Root frowned. Somehow, leaving felt like betraying the mouse and the rest of the captives. He didn't know them, but he knew what Sade was going to do to them. If he couldn't save them, he should stay and witness this. Somehow, leaving Sade and the vermin alone was too much like refusing to look too closely at those in power. Bad things happened when no one watched to make sure they didn't.

But he was so tired. And his head hurt.

"Go." Sade ordered suddenly.

"What? Why?" Root inquired, his tone distantly amused. "Do my morals offend you?"

"Yes." Sade answered. "And my killing will offend you. It will be best if we avoid each other."

Root nodded and took a hesitant step away. Sade immediately began strolling towards the mouse. Root froze, his conscience shrieking.

The first scream from the mouse sent him scurrying quickly away.

…

"What're they doing, sir?" Leria demanded, that scared face of hers showing disgust and horror even through the damage.

"I suppose it's an execution." Advigilian answered, his voice tense and his eyes locked on the otter. "Or maybe torture. Hard to tell with vermin. They blur the lines so."

"But it's an…it's an otter. It's an otter doing this."

"I was hoping I was seeing things." Advigilian told her. "But, apparently, I am not."

"No, sir. It's an otter." Leria told him.

"A very well educated one at that." Advigilian acknowledged, and Leria glanced at him, alarmed at the retrained fury in his voice. "He seems to know where all the major blood veins are. He also seems very determined to avoid them."

"Indeed." Leria agreed, staring, open-mouthed, at the mouse who seemed to lack the ability to stop screaming.

"I want to kill that one, Leria." Advigilian told her quietly. "I want to rip him apart."

"Sir, you need to calm down. He's outside the mountain. There's nothing you can do."

"Nothing I can do?" Advigilian exploded, turning on the hare with a snarl.

She met his gaze, tilting her chin up in defiance of his rage. "Nothing you can do." She replied. "You shouldn't watch this, sir. It's what they want you to do."

"I know that!" Advigilian roared. "I am very well aware!"

She took a small step back, disturbed by rapid changing of his eyes. They'd gone red, redder than she'd seen even back when Advigilian had led all his hares against the vermin seasons ago. He was past furious. He was insane.

"Sir, you shouldn't watch this." She told him again.

His shoulders twitched and his eyes flashed and…he slumped, tired, disgusted, and helpless. Now wasn't the time for the final battle of his life. He had to give Fallen enough time to get the survivors a safe distance away.

"I hate this." Advigilian told her, turning his back and digging his claws into the tiny window slit. "I hate this part of my responsibilities."

"Waiting?" Leria suggested quietly.

"Sacrificing." Advigilian growled in a fit of desperate, bloodthirsty, powerlessness. "I hate having to let one beast die so others may live. Who am I to make this decision? How is one life any more important than another's?"

Leria was silent for a long time, apparently not sure how to answer. Finally, she spoke in her strange, garbled way. "Sometimes there are some things you have to do, sir. Even when you'd rather die."

Advigilian laughed a sick, disappointed-in-life type of laugh. "It's time like this that remind me why I used to want to die, Leria. Thankfully there won't be many more."

…

Fallen sat in the highest branch study enough to bear his weight, staring at the map in front of him. He didn't need to have it out. He'd memorized it seasons ago. It was one of the few objects he had that held any sentimental value. But such a strong pull it had…

It was old paper, but very strong. Despite the many times it had been rolled and unrolled, there wasn't a single blurring of ink or tear. Perhaps it was because he had taken such good care of it. Or perhaps it was because items with so much power in them never really seem to change at all. He hoped it would never change.

He turned it over carefully to look on the back, as he always did. A simple message adorned it. Fallen's eyes closed and his brow furrowed as he felt the familiar stabbing of painful memories and childish yearning. He knew the words without ever having to look at them.

'I don't know why you won't go with us. You'll never find redemption for a crime you didn't commit. But once you're done with all this idiocy, come to Redwall. It is-has always been-a home for those who've lost theirs. It's where you belong now.' A simple message, from one of the few real friends he had, that had endured for seasons. An offer of a home Fallen had never taken up. Could never take up. He'd had a home once. And he'd lost it. He didn't deserve a second one.

Below the signature, a name. Luke. And below that…a depiction of a flower.

That's what confused so many. The flower. That's why Fallen always avoided showing anyone this map. Because they always looked at the message, read it without his permission, and asked about the flower. That damn flower.

A Zinnia. White. A flower that meant 'thinking of an absent friend.' Which, of course, they were all doing at the time. Still did, occasionally. Fallen knew well that the pain had probably not dulled for at all Luke. But for Fallen…well…he'd lost many friends these long seasons. And he'd learned how to choke the pain of it to nothing and pretend he didn't care.

He was not the same he had been when Luke had issued this invitation. And if he hadn't deserved a home then, he certainly didn't deserve one now.

"Why're you lookin' at a flower?"

Fallen turned his head to stare at the hare that had scaled the tree and was now perched just above him, the one that would probably be the leader. "What else would I look at?" He asked quietly.

"The front of the map?" She suggested.

"But that's just a picture." Fallen told her. "Just a map. I've already seen it."

"You're lookin' at a picture of a flower."

"With a great many words and meanings behind it. Every picture has a story. The map just tells you how to get where you're going. The flower, though. There's an epic's worth of words and stories behind that."

"Hmm." She rolled her eyes at him. "D'you have any food?"

"None that you'd like." He answered. "Besides, we'll be moving again soon in a few minutes. If you have food in your stomach, you'll vomit it up."

"Are you tryin' to kill us?"

"Not actively." Fallen shrugged and folded the map up carefully, sealing away memories with the ease of one who'd had too much practice at it. "Now get out of this tree before you fall and break your neck. We don't have time for a burial."

…

Redsplash stared up at the sun, wondering how long she'd been here. And wondering if she was ever going to leave. She knew she should. She was accomplishing nothing here. But the power to move eluded her. Her mind ordered arms and legs to work, to stand, and they openly defied her. So she lay there, staring up at the sky.

This is useless. Just stand up. She tried, again, to force herself to move. Nothing happened. Damn it.

She sighed heavily and glared at the sky. This was getting entirely too annoying. She wasn't an invalid! She could stand up!

There's the problem, then. You don't want to.

Redsplash scowled at her thoughts. What right did her brain have to go and start thinking?

What right do you have to sit up here all day? I'm hungry. Stand up and go get me food!

Ah, so it wasn't her mind. It was her stomach. Figured.

This isn't funny. I'm hungry.

…

Root stared at the mouse before him. He remembered him. From another dream. But the mouse had seemed different then. More…alive. Now he seemed distant and weary. As if the world was destroying itself in front of him, and he couldn't save it. Not anymore.

"I want you to stop drinking."

Root blinked at him. "What?"

"You're the last good one left there now. Besides him. And he left the mountain today with a bunch of hares and won't be back until the battle starts. Not that he's any in shape to be going to battle. He needs to go to Redwall so I can influence him. There's no use in me trying now. His mind is far too protected."

Root blinked at him. "Who're we talkin' about, again?"

The mouse gave him a long, tired look. "Someone you'll meet if you live long enough. Would you tell me what you plan to do once the otter leads the vermin to battle?"

"Darkclaw's in charge."

"And he's only doing this to humor her. And to kill a badger. But if that was all he was interested in, he wouldn't have gone about it this way."

Root's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Umm…sure."

The mouse snorted. "Do you remember days ago when the thought of killing anything repulsed you?"

Root blinked. "It still does."

"You're lying. You know you're lying. You're going to go to battle and kill for that…otter."

"Redsplash?"

"Yes. She's surprisingly influential for an individual completely lacking in charisma and charm. She's got one of their tribe feeling, a hero going numb, a Warheart going out of his way to keep her happy, and a pacifist willing to kill. I'd almost have to give her credit for doing the near-impossible if I didn't know it was all on accident."

"Aw, give 'er some of the credit, mousie." Came a familiar voice. "She's not as stupid as she likes to think she is."

Root's eyes widened in shock and he gaped at the ferret standing beside the mouse, a tense smile on his face. "Fatefiend?"

"Were you exceptin' someone else?" The ferret queried. "Cuz if you were, they aren't comin'. Too busy bemoanin' the comin' of the apocalypse." He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Like that ever got anyone anywhere."

"But…but you're dead."

Fatefiend gasped, one paw going to his heart. "I am?" He demanded and then let his paw drop to his side and gave a small, ironic grin. "Course I'm dead, squirrel. Doesn't mean I can't haunt your nightmares."

"I didn't invite you here." The mouse told Fatefiend sharply.

"I didn't care. I sensed me old buddy and decided to pay a visit. 's the respectful thing to do. You understand." Fatefiend surveyed Root critically, as if searching for a fault he knew would be there. "Been drinkin' lately, Root?"

"Why does everyone keep bringing that up?" Root demanded.

"Cuz I can smell your breath way over here." Fatefiend retorted. "And you can't smell anythin' through a dream like this."

"Ferret…" The mouse warned, seeming to be on the verge of a rather large breakdown.

"Oh, calm down, mousie." Fatefiend told him cheerfully. "I've come up with a solution."

"To what?" Root inquired.

"To who?" The mouse asked at the same time. The mouse and the squirrel looked at each other with bleary curiosity.

"To Root's whole moral deterioration."

"Have you?" The mouse raised a brow.

"My morals are not deteriorating!" Root objected.

"Course they are." Fatefiend told the squirrel. "But, luckily, you can avoid any more of it by using those healing skills o' yours."

"What?" Root inquired.

"Jus' set up a tent somewhere and do your best to help the wounded." Fatefiend shrugged. "Easy enough."

"They're vermin!" The mouse snarled.

Fatefiend's eyes flashed and it seemed that this fight was a familiar one. "Oh, are they? Well, shock as it may be to you, mousie, but so am I."

"He's got ya there." Root told the mouse seriously. "He is a ferret."

"I know that." The mouse snapped. "What I can't figure out is why it hasn't occurred to him that he is the only good ferret that had ever existed!"

Fatefiend growled and crossed his arms over his chest, mumbling something that sounded decidedly unpleasant.

"Adthe is a stoat!" The mouse snapped. "And he hasn't done anything to prove he belongs here!"

"He shouldn't have to!" Fatefiend bellowed. "Mice don't! Hares don't! The only reason he has to prove he belongs here is because he's a stoat!"

"And stoats are evil!"

"So are ferrets!"

"Excuse me, you two, but is there any point to me being here anymore?" Root interrupted the argument tentatively, attempting to hold back laughter.

Fatefiend glanced at him, irritated at being distracted. "Set up a tent and save who ya can, Root."

"They're vermin!" The mouse objected tiredly.

Fatefiend's eyes locked on his, enraged. "Would you prefer he kill hares?"

The mouse winced and then slowly, regretfully, shook his head. "No…"

"Then let him heal vermin." Fatefiend snapped and, quite abruptly, Root felt himself being dragged back to consciousness.

…

"Root." Redsplash kicked at him again. "Wake up, Root."

Root groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "I swear, if this happens one more time I'm jus' gonna ignore it. Why does everything happen when I'm tryin' t'sleep?"

Redsplash snorted. "Nothin' happened." She told him as she swiped his pillow. "You jus' looked like you were havin' a nightmare."

Root stared at her, eyes narrowed. He remembered his dream this time. Far more clearly than he'd remembered any dream but the dream. "Not really a nightmare."

Redsplash raised an eyebrow. "Well, it looked like it."

Root shrugged uneasily. "Guess it did." He agreed.

Redsplash grabbed several pillows and the propped herself up against them. "Darkclaw says we're gonna draw the badger out of the mountain tomorrow."

"An' how does he imagine we're gonna do that?"

Redsplash stared at the roof of the tent, sighing. "I dunno. He's hard to listen to for more than a minute. I think he's gonna use those prisoners somehow. Somethin' about Sade and torture." She shrugged. "Y'know, an evil-genius master plan. You fill in the blanks."

Root snorted. "Why're you lettin' Sade help him?"

Redsplash shrugged. "Why should I go to the trouble of tellin' him to stop?"

"Cuz innocents will die?"

"An' it's better they die innocent." Redsplash stared at him, vaguely confused. "Really, Root, have you no compassion?"

Root gaped at her. "You're accusing me of having no compassion? Have you gone completely insane? Has everyone gone completely insane?"

Redsplash laughed. "Calm down, Root. You'll hurt yourself." There was a brief moment of very tense silence. "But, seriously, let 'em die now. Dark said they were killin' the cubs tomorrow. Just let it happen, Root. It's better this way."

"It's better this way?"

Redsplash nodded. "I thought about it today, Root. I've decided I would've much rather died when I was young than lived this hellish life."

"Maybe they would have happy lives! Destiny doesn't hate everyone!"

"No. It doesn't. But I hate the ones who're supposed to have happy lives. Why should they get to be happy? What's so special about them? What's so wrong with me?" Redsplash bared her teeth in annoyance. "So, no. I won't stop Sade. I might even help him."

"You're sick."

"Who isn't?"

…

Sade stared at the bloody knife clutched in his paws. In these recent times, he'd found his mind a dangerous place to inhabit. No longer was it the same cold, orderly place. What had once been a frigid white room was bloodstained and burning. Everything was different now.

Even tastes. A strange sense of appreciation for taste was beginning to worm its way into his unwell mind. What food he'd had today had come with power behind it. Taste had always been used to analyze, to pick up poison or to deem a substance harmless. Now…now it was growing, developing in strange, unnecessary ways.

He considered the bloody blade for a while more and then, triggered by a feeling he had decided must be 'curiosity,' leaned forward and licked at the blood. His eyes narrowed in thoughtful consideration.

Sade decided that, like everything else, it was merely interesting. So far he had failed to find a taste that summoned that emotion he guessed was happiness or joy.

He dropped the knife in the sand between his feet and shifted from a crouch to a more relaxed sitting position. Blue eyes drifted up towards the stars, and he wondered if he could burn them out of the sky.

There were so much new possibilities now.

But they were all so wrong. So hideously deformed.

The fact that he felt at all was a monstrosity. One he could only defend by analyzing everything with as close to a cold, calculating mind as he could get now. The problem was that, now that his training had failed, he was beginning to get some sick sort of personal preference.

Gods…a personality.

And it disgusted him.

He was glad that he'd be dead soon enough. Because there was this strange new voice whispering in the back of his mind, telling him that what he was doing was wrong. Telling him, ordering him, screaming at him.

And he knew what it was.

What am I going to do with a conscience?

…

"Sade? Why don't you laugh anymore?"

"I am not allowed to."