So, here is the latest chapter. Hope you all enjoy. Thanks to...

Lain the Fluff Master: Hey, I know how that is. And I'm just glad that you're back here, reading again. And that you enjoy it.

Incarnated-soul: Yes, Derek is Kel and Dom's son. And Mira, mentioned in chapter four I think, is his sister. Jon definately spells trouble. And Tori's visions are very important.

Goldenkeys: I'm glad you like my story. Have you read my others? Some of the characters from those stories will be in this one in the future, so it might be helpful to read them also.

Flower Kid: That is a good question. But you needn't fear. Everything will work out and none of them will be gay or thought of as gay. Have you read my other stories?

Propaganda.inc: I'm glad you like my story. I've written two others, also original. Have you read them? Some of those characters will make an apperance in this story also.

Sammey/Beth: lol... yes you majesty. lol. Thanks for reading.

Cherryfaerie: Although I love that you read my stories and that you enjoy them, I wince at the thought of putting off school work... wait... no I don't. lol. Thanks for reading. You've been with me since the beginning and it was very much appreciated.

Mage Light: Yes, she does. lol. Thanks for reading.

Cylobaby: I'm glad you like my stories. Avenger has always been my favorite. That could be because it was my first. Or it could be because, like you said, assassins rock!

Warrior of Tortal: Thanks for reading. If you are confused about anything, feel free to ask me and I'll try to clarify as best as I can.

Wingedrider: Yes it will and yes she does. lol. Thanks for reading.

Chapter Seven:

Her emerald eyes fluttered as a sigh escaped her throat. She smiled and pressed the roses to her nose. White roses, the color of innocence. It humbled her to think that he thought so much of her. She had probably killed thousands more then he had, but it still brought a smile to her face.

He was doing that to her lately. Always making her smile. No matter what the day was like, he was always in her mind, always saying nice things to her. Always making her smile. Her cheeks hurt from the strain of such an unpracticed thing, but it didn't seem to stop her.

She heard the door behind her sigh open and she turned, ready to snap, to yell, to demand her strict orders of privacy to be obeyed, but when she saw who it was, she found all thoughts fading away.

"Hello, beautiful," he whispered, grabbing her hand as he fell to one knee, kissing it lightly. She murmured a protest, but didn't pull her hand away.

"What do you want?" she snapped, but the lash had left her voice. He looked up at her with his wolfish grin, so sinister, yet so disarming.

"Only to look upon your smiling face, beautiful," he smiled wider, turning it wolfish. Just as she was about to reply, the door opened, letting in blinding light. A woman stepped through and the woman with emerald eyes gasped, recognizing her and the hateful feelings that rose within her.

The knock sounding on Tori's door woke her from the dream, even as her hands fisted and the hate and anger surged through her like a tidal wave. She swallowed hastily and fought it back, then rolled from the bed nimbly.

She was still slightly disoriented from all that had happened the day before. She had been given her daily assignments, something that everyone had, including the Lady Knight Kel. Her duty was the latrines, but she didn't really mind. It was better then getting stuck trying to teach staff work to the peasants. She barely knew how she knew it, let alone how to teach others.

Along with latrine duty, she had to baby-sit little Jon for most of the day, and she had patrol duty with the rest of the squad. Today was the first day. She assumed the knocking on her door was Jon telling her it was time to wake. It was her experience that the children always woke the parent early.

She opened the door that lead into her private room and motioned Jon inside. Another thing that had been assigned to her yesterday was her own private room in the private bunkhouse, where the Lady Knight and her family slept. She had been surprised, especially when she learned that none of the other squad members had been given a room. She supposed that it was because she had to watch out for Jon.

"Good morning Jon," she whispered as she turned to a chair and grabbed her sword, which she fastened around her hips. "Shall we eat breakfast?"

"I already have," his face took on a sullen look and she nearly groaned. She had taken care of many children in her life, been introduced and disliked by some and greeted with all kinds of manners. She knew exactly where this look would take them, and she knew just how to act. He would try to make things difficult for her, and she would only make him obey and trust her by showing him that his efforts wouldn't affect her.

"Well, you can keep me company while I eat. And if you so choose to eat some more, by all means, go ahead," she knew that he had probably lied and by offering him an excuse she had neatly let him out of his own trap.

He eyed her suspiciously but followed her as she left the room. She was certain now, that she wasn't the first person to have to baby-sit him. He had a way about him that bespoke that fact that he knew what he was doing. He would try his best to get out from under her wing, but she wouldn't let him. Children had been her life and she had never given up on one before.

As they walked, she saw him eyeing her sword with more then a little envy and contempt. After all, he probably saw the same as everyone else, a boy barely becoming a man, short and pale, incompetent with a sword that nearly dragged on the ground. Why shouldn't he feel that way? It was going to be a bumpy road if she wanted his respect.

When she entered the mess hall, Derek hailed her and she instructed Jon to go sit by him. She expected him to disobey her, as most with his attitude would, but he did as she asked. Hurriedly she got herself a tray of food then headed to the table. Jon followed her movements with huge blue eyes, almost with an accosting expression in them. Yes, she thought, this would definitely be difficult.

She sat beside him when she reached the table with her tray in hand, across from Derek, and greeted him. "Would you like something, Jon?" she asked him kindly, still in a soft voice. He shook his head no, the sullen look still on his face.

She shrugged, lightly but enough that he noticed it, and began eating, letting the talk of the table wash over her. Unbidden her thoughts returned to her dream, or vision, as she was more inclined to call them, of the night before. She wondered who the woman was or how she was related to the woman connected to her dreams. The light that had entered behind the woman had clouded out most of her features, shrouding her in shadowy contrast, but she realized the woman was beautiful. Her body had held that kind of grace only a beautiful woman held as she had stepped into the door.

But she wondered why she was so hated. What had she done? What had happened between them could conjure such strong feelings? Even now, the memory of those feelings made her shiver.

Derek cleared his throat and she looked up at him from where her eyes had locked onto the tabletop. He was raising his eyebrow expectantly, as if he had asked her a question and she hadn't heard.

"Well? Are you up to it?" He asked again. She froze for a second, not sure what she was agreeing to but knew there was only one answer. Even if Derek had asked her a question, and not disguised a demand as one, she would still have only one answer. A no would make her a coward, and a yes would plunge her into the unknown. What choice did she have? So she nodded her head yes, one sharp jerk.

"Can I come on patrols too?" Jon asked, the first actual words he had spoken to her that weren't undermined with hidden meanings. She looked to him, saw the excitement shinning in his young, angelic face and sighed. He may not trust her and she may not be willing to bend to his every whim and trick, but she wasn't beyond wanting him to think she wasn't a boring boy with a sword to long for her.

"As long as your father says it's alright," she coincided, reluctantly. Jon exclaimed happily before jumping up and running away. She frowned after him, not entirely sure why.

"That was kind of you," Derek commented quietly. She turned to see him watching her with wary eyes. She gulped at the expression in them.

"When do we leave for patrol?" her voice sounded nervous to her, even though she tried to control it.

"Weren't you listening?" he demanded, all expression replaced by a stone block, his commanders face. She shook her head slightly, her cheeks heating. But what could she do? "Two hours. Just enough time for you to do latrine duty."

As Tori was saddling Wildfire Jon came into the stables to also saddle his pony. She nearly smiled at him, realizing how he had avoided her and latrine duties very easily, but knew the smile would be to forward of her. They weren't friends and he didn't trust her.

"I assume your father gave you permission, otherwise you wouldn't be saddling that pony of yours. You have a sword?" she asked of Jon. He nodded and patted the practice sword at his side, the only weapon his father would allow, had he known Jon had it.

"Good. Lets get going," she mounted and he followed her quickly. They met up with Derek and the rest of the squad and headed out across plots of land for farming that were being worked and into the forest. The ride, all though she was supposed to be looking for signs of Scanran raiders, she found very relaxing and spent much of the time enjoying it, basking in the gentle breeze and shade provided by the trees. Her horse she walked slowly, allowing it to slip further and further away from the group.

The gentle noises of the forest, such as a bird's call, or the rustling of leaves had a way of soothing her and she found her tense shoulders relaxing and herself lulling into a dreamy state.

It was towards the end of the trail when things began to go wrong. A bird took flight, startling Jon's pony, which had also been lulled by the gentle rhythm of the forest.

"Easy," she said, in a calm voice, grabbing for the reins. Jon had fumbled them loose when the white pony reared, clinging to its mane instead. The horse was easily settled, but by the time Jon was coaxed into continuing, the others were out of sight.

An eerie silence settled over the small section of trail they were on.

Her eyes darted quickly to the left and then the right, before she slowly motioned Jon to precede her. She stuck close to the pony's rump, her horse's shoulder pressed against it, keeping it close and her in slight control of where it went.

Quietly, she drew her sword as she heard rustling in the bushes. She knew, as the hair rose on her neck. A Scanra raiding party was tracking them. She listened closely, hearing the snapping twigs as the men stepped on them.

No horses, she thought, judging the distance to the edge of the woods. If they made it out, she could gallop the horses and protect Jon with her body from arrows. If she couldn't get them out of the forest, she would have to send Jon into a gallop after the others and fight on her own.

A sudden scream from the bushes announced the attack. With a panicked cry, she yelled at Jon "Catch up to the others" slapped his pony on the rump, dismounted and slapped her own. She had no training at all on how to fight against a person on foot while she was mounted. She would only make herself an easier target by staying on her horse.

She settled easily into her defensive stance, allowing herself one last fleeting panicked thought before shutting down her mind and anticipating the first attack.

It came at her in the form of a burly man with scraggly black hair and bad teeth, lunging in from the left. Like she had done so many times before without thought, she knocked his blow aside and sliced upwards.

Only this wasn't practice, this was real, with real swords, real people, and real flesh. Just like butter, she thought sickeningly, as the light sword with the emerald stone, faintly glowing sunk in though the man's waist and exited near his shoulder. She felt the blood hit her face as her eyes widened in utter terror at the thought of having actually stuck a man, and succeeded. His eyes widened in death, a look of pain and terror freezing in the black depths and in her mind. But she was already turning away, before the body hit the leaf-riddled ground, returning to her stance and meeting the next person.

After the first, she stopped thinking, stopped allowing herself too. To think would to be to make it all the worse, all the more real. Make her murders real.

The next happened the same way, the same way as before, but it didn't get any easier to see the death enter their eyes. Her stomach, at first queasy, had stopped existing to her all together. Everything stopped existing accept the sword in her hands and the pattern that she moved with it. The same pattern, always the same pattern, the same death.

It was over in little more then a minute, there had only been a few, she didn't bother to count. It took her several seconds to realize that it was over, she had become so automatic. And when she allowed herself to think, she whished she hadn't.

She kept seeing them, over and over, their faces and eyes and the death that she had caused in them. Kept feeling the sword as it cut through them so easily, so effortlessly. Kept smelling the blood as it welled through the open wounds. Every where she looked, she could see them, see there bodies as their spirits fled the world. And she wanted to weep and retch. Wanted to purge her of what she had done. Even seeing Robert murdered before her eyes was nothing compared to this. This, she had done, with her own will. The world spun around her.

Eventually, she began walking, slowly, dragging the sword behind her as her vision flashed with black dots. She couldn't deal with the fact that she had killed, so she shut her mind down, blocking out all thought and concentrated placing one foot in front of the other, a small frown marring her brow, her eyes scrunched in focus on the ground.

That was how the squad found her, as they charged back into the forest to back her up. But it was too late. She had already finished it. She tried to tell them that, but she couldn't get her mouth to work and it didn't seem necessary when the evidence was still strewn across the path. So she just kept walking, just kept making her feet move.

A face pressed close to hers as a name was boomed into her ears. She dimly recognized it as her own. It was repeated again, slowly, as the ice numbing her began to melt, the emotions began to heat. And she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle them, not with these people watching her.

"Torick. Are you hurt?" the voice penetrated the last of her fog and she knew who he was. Derek. Derek was asking her.

"Yes," a voice croaked from her throat, rusty from the emotions that she struggled against. With a great effort, she forced her emotions, emotions that wounded her, into a box and locked them into a corner in her heart. She would deal with them later, when she had more time and when she could allow her will to crumble.

"Where? Does it need to be seen to now? Or can you ride back?" Derek's hands were on her shoulder's pressing down as if to anchor her there. She took a small measure of comfort from it, the last little effort that she needed to push it all back. She straightened and force a weak smile, a fake one.

"I'm not hurt. I'm fine. But I would like to return to New Haven," she slide from under his hands and walked back where Wildfire was being held by Jon. He was watching her with wide eyes. He still didn't trust her, she knew, but he would respect her, now that she had shown him what she could do.

Harlow sidled over to help her into the saddle; she was too short to make it on her own. He must have seen the haunted look in her eyes earlier for he asked her quietly, "Was that your first?"

"Yes, Harlow. It was, and I'd rather just let it rest. I'm taking Jon back. I don't want to endanger him any more," Harlow nodded and rested his hand briefly, companionably, on her knee before making off with the rest to inspect the damage she had done.

The two were silent as they rode back, Jon in contemplation of the person beside him, and Tori in personal solitude, trying to strengthen her fragile mind set. She wanted to be in full control of all mind functions when she gave Derek a report of what happened when he returned.

She was surprised, to say the least, when the doors to New Haven opened to let them in and she was greeted by Jon's father. And Jon's father was not in a happy mood. That became apparent when he grabbed her left leg and tried to pull her from the saddle.

"What the hell do you think you were doing? You took my son out there without my permission! I could strangle you, you rotten, dirty little boy!" Tori, in instinct purely, kicked out with her foot, pushing him back and giving her enough time to dismount. She got a quick look at Jon's face and saw the white, pinched look. Obviously, he hadn't asked permission. Now what was she supposed to do?

"I'm sorry, sir," Gods, she didn't even know his name, "but I hadn't realized there were limitations on where I was supposed to watch him. If I had known that my baby-sitting duties were only within the confinement of these walls, I wouldn't have brought him out," she bowed her head slightly, to show obedience and hide the anger in her eyes.

"And you didn't think, not once, that you could endanger my son?" his voice had only gotten louder.

"Sir, your son was very well protected. Derek's entire squad was with us. No harm would have befallen him and none did," by now a crowd was gathering and she knew they would gobble up any gossip if they continued to argue.

But she was tired and wanted a bath to wash away the blood that was drying stickly to her hands. She grabbed her reigns as well as Jon's and walked away, leading their mounts into the stables.

She didn't say a word to Jon about lying to her. It was her fault, after all, for assuming he had asked permission. She should have checked. Instead, she asked him politely to see to it that she was given a bath and set about rubbing down there mounts.

The ritual motions of everyday occurrences helped to soothe away even more of the unsettled feelings. It was easier to shut it all off and build the wall locking it in thicker if she could get her mind away from it.

By the time she returned to her room and saw her steaming bath awaiting her, she knew she would be all right. Locking the bedroom door behind her, she stripped to the skin, through her wig in the corner and sunk into the tub to enjoy a full bath, a luxury she hadn't indulged in for a long time.

A/N So there is was. A heads up... a very important chapter is coming up.

Also, I discovered that I have in fact mentioned the woman with emerald eyes before, not nessesarily in that context, but she is mentioned in one of my stories. If you're up for a challange, I challange you to go re-read my stories and find where she is mentioned. If you can past the paragraph she's mentioned into a review on that story (not this one cause I don't want to give anything away). If you've already reviewed that chapter, send it to me when you're not logged in with your name in the space... well you should be able to figure out how. And the winner gets a prize. Well, each person that finds it gets a prize. Have fun and happy hunting!

Thanks again for reading. Review me!

Nubia