Mozenrath paced back and forth in Tristan's lodge, his chest rising and falling heavily. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, his temper boiling just near over. Everything about his life was coming back to him in a flash. He remembered his life in the Citadel, his countless battles with the street rat. His constant attempts to conquer Agrabah.

Something else pushed forward in his memory as well. Slowly, almost fearfully, Mozenrath lifted his right hand and slipped off his gloved covering. The bleached bone digits disgusted him, even now when he remembered how they had come to be. He ran his finger, his fleshed fingers over them slowly, as if becoming accustomed to them again. "My gauntlet…" He heard the flap open and rounded on the interloper. "Where is my gauntlet old man!"

Tristan arched his eyebrow as he regarded the sorcerer. "You will never see it again." He said shortly.

Rage flooded his system again, but he grossly underestimated the Chief Druid's strength. The moment he had begun to charge Mozenrath found himself laid flat on the floor, face pushed into the dirt with the heel of a staff. "Let me up you…"

Tristan spun the staff and rapped Mozenrath's skull again. "Perhaps if I hit you hard enough you'll lose your memory again and my friend will return."

Mozenrath struggles stopped suddenly and he looked out of the corner of his eye at the Druid. "Your…what?"

"My friend." Tristan pulled his walking stick back and leaned on it as if very tired. "Perhaps you have seen him. He resembles you a great deal, though his common sense is generally better."

Mozenrath sat up, looking at the old man as though he had never seen him before. "I…I did not know you saw me that way."

Tristan nodded. He had been very careful not to make their relationship seem to be more than that of master and pupil. Though at time, he admitted, he had shown favoritism to a most talented student. "I did…but your actions today…" he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "But I suppose it is in part my fault. I kept things from you…things that perhaps if you had known…"

"You knew!" Mozenrath felt his temper rise again. "You knew who I was…what I am and you never told me!" He rose to his feet, hands clenched. "How dare you old man! How dare you keep my life and my power from me…"

"Do you remember Destaine?"

Mozenrath shook involuntarily and clenched his jaw. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"He has a great deal to do with you Mozenrath. He is the man responsible for shaping you to your current state." Tristan looked up at him as though studying a curious item. "I was wondering…with your memory now returned…how much of him do you remember?"

"Why bother telling you, especially since you already seem to know." Mozenrath snapped back, trying to appear stronger. Inside he shivered, the repressed scenes of nights spent in pain and terror rising like ugly black snakes in his mind.

"Yes…I do know. I know a great many things about you…though most of them I heard second hand or deduced from my gentle nudging in your mind." Tristan waited for a violent reaction, but was a little surprised to see Mozenrath leaning on a shelf for support.

"How…how much did you know…" He asked carefully, a swell rising in his throat.

"I knew of you by reputation. When you began to share your dreams with me during our training sessions, I began to see more of you, but as a person, not a sorcerer." Tristan. "I know why you dram of being invaded inside. I know why you chose to give your hand in order for the power to destroy the man who violated you. You are not the first man who made sacrifices for revenge Mozenrath. Nor are you the first to become what you hated." Tristan reached over slowly and put a comforting hand on the younger mans shoulder. "He made sure of that."

"Why…why did you keep me…why did you tend to me…why did you do any of this if you knew who I was!" Mozenrath hollered, a confused, almost childlike anger pushing through his body. "Why did you trust me with anything!"

"Listen to yourself Mozenrath. Who you were!" Tristan said firmly. "Even now you disassociate yourself from the man that was! Even knowing you long to separate who you are from who you were!" Tristan shook Mozenrath furiously. "Do you truly want to be him? Do you long for the dark hallways and rooms filled with the memory of what was done to you and what you did to others?"

"No…" Mozenrath whispered, feeling something strange brewing behind his eyes.

"Because if you do I will kill you."

Mozenrath looked at the old man, his jaw dropped.

Tristan had no pity in his eyes. "If you are determined to the wizard of the Black Sands once more, than my duty as a Druid as clear. Knowing the full breadth of what you were capable of, I could not allow you to return and continue to corrupt the world around you." Tristan felt his gut twist as he said these words. He could no longer allow himself to feel any affection you his pupil if he would willing throw away all he had learned thus far.

"You…you…"Mozenrath shook his head…understanding Tristan more than he wanted to. He could no longer contain it. Mozenrath fell to his knees and wept. He could not hide his eyes completely through the bone of his hand. Warm tears slipped through and moistened the ground.

Tristan knelt beside his pupil, taking hold of his cheeks firmly. "To whom do we belong?"

"To the earth first, our people second, and ourselves never." Mozenrath said shakily, remembering the night he'd been initiated into the fold.

"To whom do we bow?" Tristan continued strictly.

"The lords to the kings, the kings to us, and we to the soil." Mozenrath felt the knot in his stomach begin to untie and his shaking calm. Tristan's hands felt warm and comforting against his cold cheeks. He reached up and touched them, steadying his breath and feeling the calmness come over him.

"And…in this path we have chosen…what must we give?"

"Our mind…our body…and our spirit…all for the balance of nature…" Mozenrath whispered as his mind felt clear.

"And in return for all we give, in return for all our sacrifice…we have within us the ability to awaken our innate, undeniable connection to the worlds unseen." Tristan said softly, his voice brought back to the kind old man that had been a constant in Mozenrath's life.

Mozenrath looked up into Tristan's eyes and fell into him, weeping till here were no tears left to cry.

Tristan held him, giving him the time he needed to let our his frustration and confusion. When the sobbing had stopped, the old Druid looked down and said gently. "Do you still wish for your gauntlet back?"

"No!" Said Mozenrath firmly. "I never want to see that fucking thing again." He swore.

"Good…"

"But…what are we going to do about Aladdin?"

"The trader…we will do as we have done with the traders before him. You are a Druid Mozenrath…not a sorcerer. You will compose yourself as a Druid should." Tristan ordered and knew for a fact how the act would hurt his pride. It could do with a little bruising. Especially now. Tristan decided. "I will do all I can to keep the two of you separate from one another."Mozenrath nodded. "However…you have disobeyed traditions in your attacking of Aladdin…just as much as he had disturbed it by attacking you." Tristan finished before Mozenrath could protest.

"He threw the first punch…" Mozenrath whispered and felt Tristan's staff slam into the back of his head again.

"That is hardly important." Tristan snapped and breathed a sigh. "If a punishment if installed for Aladdin then it must be done by the council and Luchtain, you however are a Druid and I do insist you make penance for your actions. No matter how warranted!" Tristan stopped Mozenrath's open mouth. "But…seeing as you are a Druid and we are expected to keep a certain decorum…I see no reason to make your penalty a public one."

Mozenrath bit his lip and nodded, acknowledging Tristan's authority, even if it stung his pride. He had made a big blunder, attacking a trader could do irreparable harm to the village economy, and as a Druid, better was expected of him. "What should I do then?"

"A weeks fasting and meditation." Tristan's voice boded no rebuke or complain. "You will offer sacrifice to the spirits in forgiveness for your actions. You will publicly make a trade with this man, showing no ill will brought. In the mean time I will make sure that it is stressed to Aladdin that he has done something considerably foolish and make a suggestion to the council on how it is to be handled." A suggestion was as good as an order when it came to a Druid's mouth.

Mozenrath did not argue, he stood and began to leave, a strange mixture of feelings swirling around his heart.

"Mozenrath…you know you may always speak to me…freely." Tristan reminded him.

"I…I have things to think about…too many to name all at once. I will have to talk with you when they have sorted." Mozenrath said, unwilling to face his mentor any longer.

"Then you may go. I will suggest to spend the night in your own home. I doubt any feasts will take place this night."