14h Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY

The Barony of Willip, Furyondy

(About 1 Mile NW of the Brass Dragon Inn)

There was no face in the world for Aslan but Nodyath's; contorted in rage as he swung yet another blow that the paladin took on his shield.

There was no sound but their grunts and occasional cries of pain when one blow or another found a mark. The clinks and clanks of armor and shield in constant motion.

Snow kicked up by their movements swirled in a cloud around the two battling figures. At their feet, a growing mass of spots, trails and puddles of blood dotted the snow red.

Clouds of hot breath from two men nearing the edge of exhaustion blurred Aslan's view, as did the still-falling snow and an occasional drip of blood from a forehead wound into his eyes.

And still the battle raged on.

Smite!

Part thought, part prayer and part something that Aslan still had yet to define fully flashed through his body and mind at once. Nodyath screamed in anguish as Aslan's faith-powered blow shattered the armor covering of his left arm to pieces and still managed to penetrate his flesh enough to hurt.

Aslan had to hand it to his counterpart. Even in his moment of greatest pain, Nodyath refrained from shouting out anything incriminating. He did spit out "Damn you, Nodyath," but that bothered Aslan not at all. The fact that his friends were all still standing nearby without attacking was proof that they knew the particulars of this situation, and nothing that either Aslan or his foe could say was going to enable them to pierce this deception. Nodyath had indeed stacked the deck well for this fight, and Aslan was far too busy at the moment for contemplation of any plan which might unmask his counterpart.

Then movement out of the corner of his eye caught Aslan's attention. Some fifty feet off to the west, barely visible, stood a figure too tall to be a human. A roar born of sheer rage cut through the falling snow.

The devil.

There was no time. No time to see if Elrohir had one of his miracle plans up his sleeve. As a paladin, it was Aslan's responsibility to protect his friends anyway. And if Nodyath intended to read his mind every step of the way, then Aslan would have to rely on faith- the one thing he had that his counterpart didn't- to guide his actions, rather than thought.

Aslan stepped back and turned his head to see his companions.

"Elrohir!" he roared. "Get out of here! Take them all and scatter! Everyone in a different direction! I'll handle this and meet up with you later!"

"What?" the ranger spluttered. "You can't!"

"Do it!" Nodyath suddenly yelled.

Inwardly, Aslan smiled. Despite Nodyath's brave words, the paladin guessed that his counterpart did not relish having to face the hamatula, but not to agree with Aslan's plan would expose him as the imposter, and Aslan's friends would never leave if they knew who was who here. As it was, Aslan could hear Elrohir arguing with the others, trying to get them to comply. He could only hope they would.

The devil was advancing now towards them, apparently eschewing it's scorching rays in anticipation of quick impalements.

Aslan attempted to repeat the smite maneuver again, but to no avail. Both combatants were now acquiring wounds much faster than they had previously, and Aslan attributed this to the much maligned state that both their plate mail armors were currently in. That, and fatigue. The paladin's steel shield felt like a boulder in his hand. He had a momentary flash of Caroline Bigfellow, staggering around with over two hundred and fifty pounds of armor and gear in an attempt to inoculate her against attacks from this very same Nodyath, and he felt a wave of pity for her. He hadn't been in a very understanding mood then. He'd been hurt, and bitter.

He had forgotten, of course, what being hurt was really all about.

Aslan ducked under Nodyath's lateral swing and managed to push his counterpart back a step with a shield bash. The paladin dug into the ground as best as he could given the snow to get good footing and came in high and from the right with his longsword. Nodyath barely managed to deflect the blow with his own shield, all the while still glaring at Aslan with raw hatred.

"Why, Nodyath?"

The question, unanticipated, felt torn from Aslan's throat. Something inside him wanted to know- had to know- why someone more similar to himself than any other person could ever hope to be seemed so diametrically opposed to him. Did it have something to do with the Three Worlds? Was it a cosmic balance of alignment, or a matter of choice?

Nodyath, like Aslan, was breathing harder by the minute. Steam puffed from his mouth as cold air poured into the fighter's lungs. For a moment, Aslan thought Nodyath would ignore his query entirely, and then-

"Who's your father, Goliath?"

A cold not related to the arctic chill seemed to seep into Aslan's bones. He'd wondered about Nodyath's mother; had she been anything like Lady Mercy? Had she ever warned the young Nodyath that one day he might die by his own hand?

It had never occurred to Aslan until this very moment that "his own hand" might be the hand of his counterpart.

And yet love was supposedly to be the ultimate cause of his death; at least according to his mother, and there was no love lost between these two men. More tellingly, Nodyath's question carried with it the implication that he, Nodyath, knew who his own father was, and furthermore, the fighter's helm of telepathy already had told him that Aslan was ignorant on that matter. That put Nodyath ahead on that score. If only Aslan could find out…

"Who's yours?" Aslan responded, his voice rising with both envy and a lifelong frustration. "Who's your father, Nodyath?"

His counterpart merely shook his head. A little sadly, it seemed to Aslan.

"As I said, we're both dead men, paladin. One of us just goes first, that's all."

And then he was coming in again, his blade slashing. Aslan parried and counterattacked. Both men were approaching the end of their endurance when the devil finally ran up to them.

Aslan whirled to face it, the paladin flinging his arms wide and craning his neck up to look full in the face at the fiend towering over them.

"Come on!" he roared at the creature. "Take us both! Kill us both!"

The devil, all too eager, reached out for both combatants with blinding speed. One grayish-green hand closed over each throat. Aslan felt himself being lifted off the ground.

He felt something unseen and immaterial wash over him, and then it was gone, like water running off a duck's back.

Nodyath however, uttered a strangled cry of terror, and his eyes bulged in his head.

Aslan finally let the thought run through his mind, because he knew Nodyath now knew it as well as he did.

It's good to be a paladin.

Both counterparts used their Talent.

Nodyath polymorphed into a hawk and began to fly away.

Aslan polymorphed into a silver fox and dove underneath the snow.

Aslan dimly heard the whoosh of the scorching rays, and a screech from Nodyath. Fly-form would have been more practical, but under the influence of the fiend's fear touch, Nodyath could think only of flight, not hiding.

The paladin was blind under the snow, but his ears were keen. He slowly began to crawl away from where he guessed the hamatula was, hoping that his passage would not disturb the snow cover above him.

Silence.

Sounds now, vague.

Footsteps.

Then a scream. A human scream, abruptly cut short.

A thud.

More footsteps now.

The scorching rays again. Aslan could feel warmth; knew the devil was raking the snowfield, trying to uncover him. He stopped moving.

Silence again. Aslan could feel the fiend's eyes, searching. Searching for movement.

Now something different. A cold, cloying feeling. A darkness of the mind as much as of sight seemed to reach out for the fox but stopped short. The paladin could only guess at what kind of unholy power the monster was using now.

The cold receded. Silence once more.

And finally, an ear-splitting roar of fury, and what sounded like an explosion. Even underneath a foot of snow, Aslan's fox nose caught a whiff of sulphur.

Aslan waited a full minute before cautiously burrowing his way to the surface and resuming his human form.

As he had expected, the devil was gone. Aslan could see Nodyath lying in the snow about thirty-five feet away and trudged over to him. He had expected to find a corpse, but to his surprise, his counterpart was still alive.

Still saved an ounce of Talent left over for healing, Aslan thought. Smart. He himself had nothing left.

A new cold suddenly seeped through Aslan's bones as he realized what that meant. He took a deep breath and slowly knelt down beside Nodyath.

Nodyath was back in his natural form, so only his eyes and nose were visible through the slit of his helm of telepathy. Those light blue eyes, identical to Aslan's, regarded the paladin with an expression Aslan couldn't identify.

Aslan tried twice before he was able to get the words out.

"You know what has to happen, Nodyath."

Nodyath smiled, a thin bubble of blood escaping his lips.

"I didn't think paladins executed prisoners."

"You know what's at stake here. I have no way of neutralizing your Talent." (As he said this, Aslan cursed himself for destroying the collar that the Slave Lords had used to suppress his own Talent). "You'll escape, or kill others trying to. You've already earned a death sentence a dozen times over."

"Then kill me, paladin." Nodyath's breath rattled in his throat, and Aslan now saw the multiple places where the hamatula's spines had pierced him, and the burn marks where the fiery rays had caught him. "I won't fight you. Murder me in cold blood and spend the rest of your life trying to justify it to yourself. Every day you'll wake up to it, and you'll go to bed with it every night. You'll tell yourself over and over that it was for the greater good, but it'll never stick. And maybe, just maybe, one day you'll realize that I was right. With this Talent; this power, I was never meant to be a paladin…"

Those eyes fixed him again.

"… and neither were you."

Despite himself, Aslan closed his eyes. He knew Nodyath was right; knew what he might be risking by going through with this. Like Tojo, Aslan's code, his honor, his beliefs, now hung by a thread. He might well be denying his Calling for the second and last time if he went ahead with this, but he couldn't let Nodyath go. He couldn't.

Aslan felt his hand close around the hilt of his sword.

"Don't bother."

Aslan jerked his head around at the words, and for a moment, he thought the tall figure stepping out of the swirling snow about twenty feet away was indeed the returning devil. Aslan wouldn't have to kill a helpless human being after all, and even his own death seemed a small price to pay to still die a paladin.

But it was Cygnus.

The falling snow swirled around the mage's head. The hard, dark look in the wizard's eyes matched his mirthless smile.

"I didn't go very far," Cygnus said. "I guess no matter how hard I try, I'll always be the one who ends up acting unilaterally."

On shaking, unsteady legs, Aslan rose to his feet and faced his friend.

"Don't do it, Cygnus."

"I don't have a paladinhood to lose, Aslan."

"You still have what makes you a good and decent person."

Cygnus scowled. "Have you forgotten my son, Aslan? Have you forgotten Tad?"

"They're both still alive, Cygnus."

"And how long will that last if he gets away?" the wizard retorted, shaking his head. "As far as I'm concerned, it's the will of the gods that I was the one who found you."

And with that, Cygnus raised his right arm and pointed at Nodyath.

Even in the snow, Aslan could see the glint of the ring.

"No, Cygnus," he pleaded, still unable to believe he was doing this, or even certain if he should. "Don't do it. You still have honor, even if you don't realize it."

Now Cygnus' smile seemed, for a moment, sad.

"No, Aslan my friend," the wizard replied. "What I have…"

Aslan saw the anger now.

"… is an Enemies List."

Aslan heard the command word, threw himself off to the side, missing Nodyath's final expression- whatever it might have been- as the first of the shooting stars went off. For a moment, Aslan wondered if he himself would die; collateral damage from Cygnus' thirst for revenge but as always, the cool, calculating wizard had timed things to perfection. The blast of fire missed Aslan but just caught Nodyath at the edge of its radius.

The second and third stars were as dead on accurate as they were unnecessary.