Title: The Offer

Author: Sam

Series: Choices Freely Stolen 01 / ?

Rating: M: language, death, and future chapters

Setting: Autumn 1992: The Realm of Dungeons & Dragons

Characters & Ages: Bobby- 18 (in two months); Terri and Sir Timothy- 18; Uni (Elf)- 19 (Unicorn- 9); Lorne- 23; Sheila, Presto, and Varla- 23; Diana- 23 going on 24; Eric and Ayesha- 24; Hank- 24 going on 25; Kosar- 25 going on 26; Dekkion- 33 going on 34

Summary: No longer children the Champions of Power are faced with multiple choices and pressing tasks, the first of which is whether they should go home.

Spoiler: Basically, random episodes from the Animated D&D series, as well as the un-aired "Requiem" episode by Michael Reeves. Die-hard fans may not approve of what I do with Uni in this series, and for that I am sorry.

Category: Fantasy, Adventure

Disclaimer: "Dungeons and Dragons" is a trademark of TSR and the cartoon is a creation of many peoples, including Marvel Productions, TSR inc, Saban Entertainment, and Wizards of the Coast. I am in no way connected with these people, and I do not claim ownership to these characters, lands, or names. I have borrowed them to share a story-and most likely not a story any of them would have written had they had the time or no. I am making no money from this, and it is just for my entertainment, and that of free entertainment to a select group of friends. Thank You.

Distribution: Please ask first?

Note: For blueyes666.

Secondary Note: If you haven't read my other story "The Never-ending Story" then this sequel will make little sense. You can try reading this on its own with the knowledge that the series ended in 1985 and this takes place in 1992, but all other changes are too various (33 chapters worth) to easily sum-up. I recommend you go read it and come back and join us, but that is your decision. Any questions are welcome.

Feedback: Please? I love comments.

xxx

The four suns hung low in the morning sky, lighting the vast battlefield and beyond. Corpses littered the cracked, blood-soaked earth: orcs, goblins, lizard men, humans, horses, bullywogs, and any number of other varied creatures were represented. At the south end of the field lay a large five-headed dragon among destroyed equipment and various bodies she had landed on during her fall at the height of battle. Among the dead moved armored humans, elves, dwarves, and gnomes. They searched the bodies, dragging or carrying the dead into piles to burn or transporting the injured to makeshift staging areas for healing. When the victorious Armies of Light, sporting the standard of a white griffon head encircled by black, came upon a fallen ally, they moved the being into the camp at the south of the valley just beyond Tiamat's body.

Tents, large howdahs, and various wagons had been set up as a temporary living space. The largest dwellings were reserved for healing; the smaller ones for sleeping and dining facilities to be used on a rotational basis. Beyond the camp, to the southwest, stood a sparse copse of dead trees surrounded by palm-sized leafed vines called razor leaf, an edible healing plant known to sever a body's limbs if handled injudiciously. Among the trees, protected by patrolling unicorns and faerie dragons besides the razor leaf vines, lay the noble deceased of the Armies of Light. They would be given proper funerary rites later that day.

On the far western edge of the camp, nearest the trees but blocked from the sight by several tents, sat a fire pit. Distant enough from the breakfast fire to give the speaker privacy, but close enough to watch for signs of trouble, stood two men and three women, all dressed in various casual-type clothing and holding empty plates and water tins. They watched the group speaking by the fire and quietly awaited a return summons.

Unlike the numerous other cooking fires being utilized that morning, this one smoldered with red and violet flames, a thin haze of smoke hanging about the eight people near its warmth. The tallest, over seven foot in height and dressed in red and black robes, slowly stirred the embers with a branch; his black eyes set in a long pale face intently watched the faces of his companions, as if searching for some unspoken clue as to their innermost thoughts.

Across the fire, the former Children of Power sat pondering the choice they had been given.

"Home. . ." Bobby sounded more puzzled by the offer than certain. The seventeen year old blond Barbarian absently petted his girlfriend's long black ponytail as he tried to think how to answer.

Terri turned denim-blue eyes to Bobby's summer blue ones. She toyed with the golden heart-shaped locket she wore. She had fully recovered from the shock of her vision from earlier, but the Dreamer didn't look as comfortable - - as lethargic - - as the other Champions of Power. She looked down-right ill.

Venger continued to absently stir the fire as he waited for their answer: stay or go home.

The sudden angry roar of a dragon barely pierced the tired daze of the seven humans. Unenthused, they turned to look at the battlefield, where the massive five-headed dragon reared back. In a breathy reverberating boom she screamed "You fools! Do not come near me!" Her white head snapped at one of the men trying to aid in untangling her.

"I thought she was dead," Diana said distractedly.

Venger's deep voice answered "the Elf used the Net of Healing on Tiamat. She will live."

Turning, the seven again looked at the mage on the other side of the fire, his face solemn behind dancing red and violet flames. Slowly, he stirred the embers with his stick, watching the others in return. After a long moment he asked "shall I send you home now?"

They looked at one another. The promise of home, of an end to heartache, a peaceful future, beckoned like a siren's call: simply agree and go home.

Something felt wrong. Terri shook her head, trying to clear the fuzzy lethargy overtaking her. Feeling queasy, she curled an arm around her stomach and took a deep breath, gagging as the campfire's smoke hit the back of her throat. "The fire - - " she said, barely audible, then repeated louder, "the fire's making me sick. Can we put it out?"

Holding his stick still at last, Venger watched the Dreamer with sharp black eyes.

Again she pleaded "can we douse the fire? I'm going to be sick." Terri had paled considerably.

A splash of cold water over the flames sent up a thick curtain of black and purple smoke, making all seven gag. Hank's free hand went to his mouth, the other still gripping the bucket he'd poured over the fire.

As the wind dissipated the writhing cloud, Eric asked "what was that?" He blinked, the feeling of lethargy lifting as he rose to his feet. "What kind of wood was that?" He thought he had used typical fuel for the breakfast fire, but no fire he'd made before had been violet - - and none had smoked like that after putting it out.

Presto, quickest to understand what had happened, frowned fiercely, his golden eyes blazing with sudden fury. Unable to give vent to his anger verbally, he mind-screamed: 'Varla! I need you!' The Magician's eyes never left the form of the mage across the fire pit.

Among those watching, Varla looked shocked by the violence of her friend's call. She said "something's wrong. Let's go" and lead the others quickly back to the gathering. "Presto?"

"I want you to tell Venger exactly what I think of him," Presto growled mentally.

Such hostile thoughts were evident to the telepathic Kosar as well even with his protective amulet. He stepped forward and draped a finely woven rope net over Presto's shoulders. "Here, this should help," he said as the net began to glow and Presto's damaged throat began to heal.

Venger remained passive awaiting what would come. His face looked almost serene as he watched the Magician with unfathomable black eyes.

Impatiently, the twenty-three year old Magician shrugged off the net, Sheila picking it up. As Presto stepped towards Venger no one made a move to stop him; no one spoke, confused and stunned by the normally soft-spoken man's unexpected animosity. There hadn't been enough time for it to heal him completely, but Presto's throat felt well enough that he gladly switched to his verbal voice, a hoarse intense sound very unlike his normal light tenor.

Raising a shaking hand and pointing directly at Venger's face, Presto growled out, "you son of a bitch! How dare you try to manipulate us!"

Diana frowned, stiffening. She turned confused, but less dazed, eyes on her friend. "Presto?" her voice sounded wary.

He ignored her, his voice rising as he vented hoarsely. "You were trying to send us back. You tried to trick us with that fire." As Varla put a gentle hand on his arm, Presto moved forward another step. "You want us to go home, but you're wrong, Venger. That's not my home!"

"Hey, Presto," Hank began in a placating tone. He began to realize that Venger had hypnotized them somehow, but Presto's anger was distracting - - and terrifying.

"No," Presto made a cutting motion with one hand, still glaring at the former arch-fiend. "You knew, didn't you? Both of you knew and you still want to send me back there!" He pulled away from Varla and strode right past Ayesha, ignoring her attempts to catch his arm. "You knew I was born in the Realm, you bastard. I don't belong on Earth. I belong here!" The Magician came face to face with the still calmly seated Venger. "You want to send me away from my home - - my family!"

Finally, Varla broke through the man's rage. "Presto! Please!" At his annoyed look, she held up both hands, grey eyes meeting gold. "You're not making sense, Presto. You weren't born here. You came from a different world nine years ago." She tried to sooth him with her gentle tones, reaching for him again.

Hank reached out as well, touching Presto's shoulder. "Yeah. Calm down, Buddy. I know it feels like we've been here all our lives. Let's sit and talk this out."

Presto shook off Hank's hand without breaking eye contact with Varla. "No. I wasn't born on Earth. I was born here: in the Realm. It's why I've always felt at home here, even at the beginning." The Magician jabbed a shaking finger at Venger, nearly hitting the tall mage's still serene face. "He wants to make me leave - - send me away. He wants to take me away from my parents and my twin and. . ."

"Twin?" Varla looked hopelessly confused, her voice laced with the tears she tried to hold back at the overwhelming emotional display.

Her reaction brought Presto up short. Removing his glasses, Presto pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, eyes closed and head thrown back, trying to regain control. Finally, after several slow, deep breaths, he put the glasses back on and looked at Varla, almost unaware of the bewildered crowd around them. "Yes, twin. You, Varla. You're my twin sister. We have the bond scars to prove it." He absently reached one hand back, touching the area of the scar hidden under his tunic and trouser waistband. "I'm finally home and nothing," he sent a chilling glare at Venger "no spell will change my mind and send me away. I'm home."

Before Venger could answer Presto's charge, Hank's voice broke in, low and solemn. "Venger? Is he right? Did you cast a spell on us to make us choose Earth?"

"Yes."

The word was simply stated, Venger's voice calm and deep. He stood, his seven foot frame towering though not overpowering. "If you remain here, your lives will be harder than ever they were. Your trials will be greater. You will be safer in your world," he nodded in deference to Presto and added, "on Earth than in the Realm."

Diana's voice vibrated in an angry reflection of Presto's. "Shouldn't we be allowed to decide if we want the safe path or not?" She moved her hands restlessly, as if reaching for the javelin that wasn't there.

Venger turned his black eyes on the twenty-three year old Acrobat. "If you stay, you must be certain that no lingering thought of what you leave behind will distract you."

"Distract us?" Eric sent a glare at the mage, despite the vagaries in their heights. He strode as close to Venger as Presto had, deliberately trying to hem the man in. "You think you can play with us like puppets and it wouldn't distract us?" He stiffened his back, pulling to his full five foot eight inch height. "Presto's right. You're a bastard. I should have thrown away that stupid key. Then we would have recognized you for the lying control-hungry. . ."

Uni's hand on Eric's arm silenced him and the Cavalier turned his back on the mage, head bowed, fists clenched.

"Why?" Sheila's teal eyes met Venger's black ones. "Why would you try to trick us into going home? I - - I thought you were one of the good guys now."

Venger looked at the twenty-three year old Thief, a soft frown on his face. He didn't answer the charge of the pretty redhead, instead asking steadily, "have you chosen, Young Ones?"

Hank couldn't believe the audacity of the man. Shaking his head, narrowing light blue eyes, the blond Ranger crossed his arms carefully over his bandaged chest. "Venger, we need some time to think." He shook his head again and added, "clear-headed. No magic, Venger."

"Magic or not, I know what I choose," Diana ground out, anger vibrating through her voice. The Acrobat once more planted her hands on her hips. "I'm going to the Singing Forest to get the cure from Heart's Unity. I don't care who else can do this quest. I am doing it. Dekkion needs me, and I won't let him down. I love him." Shock crossed Diana's face at her own admission, and her eyes flashed to Kosar's sad blue ones.

The Psionicist offered a small half-smile to his first love. "I know you do, Diana." His verbal voice softly echoed. "I'll stay with him and keep him safe."

She reached out to hug him, rather surprised but thankful that the pain of their previous day's telepathic connection didn't extend to physical. "Thank you, Kosar." She smiled at him, squeezing his arms in strong hands. "You truly are one of the best friends I ever had."

He nodded, unable to reply.

"I'll go with you, Diana. I want to get the cure for Ramoud." Presto's hoarse voice broke through to the rest of the group and Bobby finally shook himself free of the odd lethargy of Venger's spell.

The Barbarian looked at the Dreamer in his arms. He didn't want to make such a significant life choice without asking her opinion - - unlike the choice Sheila had made for him what seemed a life-time ago. "Terri? Should," he cleared his throat and asked more softly, "should we go home now?"

She turned and looked at him. The eighteen year old woman well knew her boyfriend's thoughts and feelings. After nine years of watching him spiral deeper into obsession about the Realm, Terri didn't think simply finding Sheila and rescuing her would be enough for him. She knew Bobby belonged to the Realm. Going home would drive him insane, whether he knew it or not.

Cupping his face in her hands, Terri kissed Bobby softly, briefly. "We are home, Bobby." She prayed she'd never regret making the decision.

Surprise lit his eyes then he frowned. "But you hate it here, Terr."

Terri nodded. "As much as Eric hates it here. But, Bobby, I love you. I'm staying here with you." Her fingers stroked lightly down his scruffy cheek; it had been days since the teen had been able to shave.

At that, Bobby pulled away and set her on the ground, standing as abruptly. "Don't do this, Terri." He turned miserable eyes on her. "I did what I came to do. Now we can go. . ."

"Well, since we can't make up our own minds," she stood, her voice as harsh as Bobby's, "let someone else make our decision. Eric." She whirled around to the black-haired Cavalier with the bandaged head. "You always hated this place. What do you plan to do?"

Bobby shook his head. "You can't put this choice on him, Terri."

"I'm staying," Eric turned around, black-brown eyes serious, intense. "I promised Uni I'd help her break the curse. I'm not leaving until she's happy." He shrugged as if there could be no other choice, ignoring the surprise everyone else displayed at Eric's concern for the former unicorn. As far as they recalled, he barely tolerated Uni - - of course, that had been six years ago - - before Eric and Uni had been forced to rely on each other for survival with no one else to help them.

Terri looked back at Bobby. "See? If even Eric is going to stay, why shouldn't I?"

"But. . ."

She touched his cheek again. "Bobby, that last vision was truly beautiful. I've only had one other prophecy I've liked and that was when you came back to me." She dropped her hand to clasp his. "I want to control this ability. I want to have less nightmares and more wonderful visions." Her eyes locked with his. "I can't learn that at home."

Finally, Bobby nodded his head. Softly, he said, "Okay. We stay. And," he looked at the others, "maybe this Heart's Unity will know how to change Uni back to a unicorn. We can go with you guys on this quest."

Uni nodded, smiling widely, oddly large maroon eyes shining in her pale face. "Airk?" she looked at her longtime companion. "We can help Diana and Presto."

"It's a good place to start," Eric nodded, his eyes trailing to the others. "What about you guys?"

Ayesha grabbed for Presto's hand. "Albert, I will stay with my father and my people. When you get back, we will rejoice."

The Magician gently touched one finger to the princess's cheek. "That's great. I'll look forward to the feast after we heal Ramoud and Dekkion." His golden eyes held Ayesha's brown ones for a long moment.

"I'll stay with Mother and Father," Varla interrupted, though she, too, hadn't yet taken her grey eyes from Presto. 'Can he be right? Can we really be twins?' He couldn't have known about the purple and black scar across her lower back - - the bond scar. "You will be careful?"

Presto drew his eyes from Ayesha and offered a smile to the red-haired Illusionist. "Of course," he rasped then flushed at the obvious results of his 'being careful.' He had to let his throat heal completely; he just had too much to say it seemed.

Sir Timothy turned to Hank, his companion for the last several months. "I will stay with the wounded. They'll need protection."

Hank put a hand on the Knight's shoulder and nodded. He turned to Sheila and softly said, "Sheila?"

The Thief reached over and gently took the Ranger's hand. "If you go, I will. If you stay, so will I." Like Bobby, she had offered the choice to someone else. Unlike her little brother, she smiled, her manner confident. She knew that she wouldn't mind whatever choice the man made.

As he always had, Hank considered all the options. Slowly, as sure as Sheila, he nodded once. "The quest. We'll help our friends." Sheila's bright smile felt like a reward.

"It is time, My Friends." Dungeon Master walked into the circle of Champions. "The fallen are to be honored."

Everyone looked surprised at the small, ancient mage. Slowly, as the meaning of his words sank in, they turned and headed into the copse of trees, heading to the funeral rites of Sir John, Freddie, Dekkion's warbird, and several others. No one spoke as they left the two mages behind.

"Was that wise, My Son?" The aged magician continued watching after the retreating figures.

Venger frowned softly. "They needed to be sure of their hearts, Father. Every moment they spend in our Realm draws them further from their return." He turned his dark gaze on the smaller man. "A time will come when they will no longer be able to leave the Realm."

Dungeon Master turned wise old teal eyes upon the younger mage. "The test you devised. . ."

"You have often tested them in the past," Venger cut in. "Riddles and puzzles and trials - - this was merely another."

Shaking his head, the elderly mage looked back to the group as they headed into the copse of trees. "Learning tests, teaching riddles, yes. However, Venger, manipulation is not the same as a riddle."

The tall mage frowned and curled his hands into his robes, not enjoying the feeling of being a chastised pupil once more. Almost sounding defensive, he said "they made the choice they were ever meant to make, Father. They saw beyond the smoke and flames to the soul of the choice. The outcome is correct."

"Ah, but the journey is as important as the destination, My Son." Dungeon Master shook his head sadly. "Trust once broken is doubly hard to repair." Looking up at Venger, the Dungeon Master lowered his voice, almost to that of an afterthought, and said, "you still have much to learn, Young One."

Shock flashed over Venger's face as his father turned and headed back into the large healing tent.

xxx

The travelers should have waited until the entire group had healed: Hank's chest wound and Eric's head wound could be detrimental to the quest. However, no one wanted to risk Dekkion or Ramoud any longer than absolutely necessary, especially if Venger was right and the quest took a year to complete. They did consent to wait until the next morning, giving them the afternoon, after the funerary rites, to gather supplies and locate new clothing and their Weapons of Power.

Sir Timothy lingered slowly through the copse of trees, now devoid of the deceased, helping Varla collect razor leaf vines and leaves for the coming journey. Uni walked ahead of them, stopping to watch Silvermane's herd still rambling through the trees and among the Faerie Dragons. In the central clearing sat Eric, Ayesha, Presto, and Diana stuffing packs for the eight travelers. Bobby, Sheila, and Hank spent time with Jaref and Marinda getting replacement clothes for those which had been damaged or discarded.

Hank walked over to the seated group, looking down as he buckled his leather belt over his new studded leather hauberk, leaving it a little loose to accommodate the bandaging beneath the under tunic. Looking up, he smiled at the others briefly and sank down next to Eric, who fastened his left leg guard. Leaning over, Hank helped him with the right.

"Okay, which direction are we going?" Sheila asked as she and Bobby walked over. Sheila had changed back in the familiar lavender-colored dress with teal belt, something she'd foregone when involved in stealth missions. She wore a dagger at her belt, as she'd gotten used to having it handy. The severely bruised gash across her face, next to her eye, had been lightly bandaged.

Bobby still wore trousers and once more had a light tunic under his crossed leather harness. He'd also given up the barbarian's horned helmet; he'd grown up and had made his own wardrobe choices this time. He had his left foot bandaged tightly inside his fur-lined boots, the bandages acting as a temporary splint on his sprain.

Diana remained in the slightly longer halter and shorts she'd taken to wearing when working with Dekkion. She had been one of the few Champions uninjured. Though she'd felt guilty the previous night about her great health, she no longer did; it would be a boon on the coming quest.

As for Presto, he retained the tan trousers and tunic of green he'd changed to over the years, but he also wore a set of green robes over the outfit, open in the front for easy movement. His torn arm had healed completely when he'd finally allowed his throat to be tended to fully with the healing net.

Another uninjured Champion, Terri kept to the blue trousers and tunic she'd been given upon arrival. Her golden heart pendant on its chain remained tucked carefully under her shirt. One new thing accompanied the black-haired teen: Freddie's worn, blood-stained collar with faded tags. She busily stuffed them into her backpack, not meeting anyone's eyes; she'd been quiet ever since that morning's funeral.

Eric was in his familiar Cavalier's outfit of silver leg armor, sapphire blue chainmail, and golden breastplate, complete with crimson cloak. Once he had his leg armor on, he would look like the same Eric they all remembered, at least for the clothing. He still sported a bandage across his head, covering the talon raking he'd received in battle, but he was clean shaven once more, though he'd left his hair shoulder-length.

"South," Eric answered Sheila's question concerning Heart's Unity, offering a smile of appreciation for Hank's help, another indication of how much he'd changed over the last six years. "Silvermane knew where the Singing Forest is, and Uni was able to read his thoughts."

"How'd she manage that?" asked Presto, his voice fully recovered. He felt a bit bewildered at the vast changes to their once baby unicorn. It was hard to get used to her as a sexy red-haired elf with 'anime' eyes rather than the adult equine he'd expected.

Eric shrugged. "She can do some unicorn things when she's got that Alicorn Whip. I tried using it myself but it won't do anything for me except the whip part. But for Uni it let her teleport us from the Dragon's Graveyard and read Silvermane's directions today." He stretched and looked at the Magician. "Must be a unicorn thing."

Presto nodded and began folding the net. After a moment, he asked, "should we take this or leave it here?"

With a soft frown, Terri said, "it didn't help Ramoud or Dekkion."

Ayesha looked up from the pack she prepared for Uni. "How did it heal Tiamat and not Dekkion? Both were hit with our energy blast."

"No," Diana sighed and explained, "Dekkion wasn't hit by us. Tiamat rolled. He must have only been hit by the energy released from the demi-lich."

"And that's why he can't be healed," Ayesha added, softly. "A dragon can take that kind of hit but not a human." She looked extremely worried, biting her lip as she tried to decide how much to tell the others. She decided she would want to know if Dekkion was her friend. "If our brother doesn't get a cure before he dies, he'll become undead." Dekkion's needs were as dire as her father, Ramoud's: the desert king wouldn't stop bleeding or leaking other fluid from his wounds. Only the constant attendance of Raevonn, the Elf Healer, kept him alive as she daily replaced his lost fluids. "Kelek is to be tried by my people for attempted murder."

Bobby grunted, shoving a roll of spare clothing into his pack. "Speaking of jerks with spells," he growled out then modified his tone to one of avid curiosity. "What'd you mean when you said you'd taken care of your death back on Earth, Eric?"

The Cavalier shrugged. "It's kind of a long story," he said, sounding self-satisfied. "But since we've got time, I can talk about me." He grinned at the comically distressed look on the Barbarian's face. "Hey, you asked."

"Yeah, I did." Bobby sighed and gestured with one hand. "So talk already."

With a slight nod, Eric put down his pack and crossed his legs as much as he could in the armor. He put his hands on his knees and said, "My dad never liked me."

"Aw, Eric, I think you're. . ."

Eric cut off Presto's words. "You were my best . . . my only . . . friend, Presto. Think back. You'll see I'm right."

The Magician frowned but fell quiet.

"Okay," Eric started again. "For those of you who don't know my dad, he's about six feet tall with brown curly hair and green eyes. My mom was about five-ten and had blond curls that spiraled, like in the antebellum pictures, and blue eyes." He gave them a moment to look at his own five foot eight height with straight black hair and brown-black eyes. "Dad was pissed when mom gave him two sons and neither of us looked like either of them. He filed some sort of legal paper to see if he could find out if we were legitimate, but I don't know what ever came of that." Eric's voice took on a bitter edge. "And he started divorce proceedings."

"Oh, Eric!" Sheila's teal eyes held sympathy.

He shrugged and said "well, Mom got one up on him. She died before the divorce went through."

"Your mother died?" Bobby wished he hadn't started this conversation. "But you were always talking about her."

Eric looked at Bobby, shaking his head slightly. "No." His voice softened and he seemed to choose his words with care. "I've never talked about my real mom. I was two weeks old when she died of some staph infection she got in the hospital." He looked down at his hands, taking them from his knees to fold the fingers together. He said, "All together, my dad's had five wives unless he also divorced Amelia after I left." He lifted his dark eyes to Bobby's blue ones. "Usually, I talk about Amelia when I talk about my mom. I was eleven when she married Dad. She's the one with the awesome garden and all those parties."

Picking up his pack, Eric began carefully stuffing it with his supplies, taking a long time over each piece of equipment. He very carefully folded a spare tunic. "She's also the smartest of the lot. She looked over Dad's history and figured him out. See, Dad's an okay businessman, but nowhere as good as Grandfather was. He just likes to think he can keep up. So, Dad marries for money to keep up appearances and give the business a jolt once in a while. At least, that's how Michael explained it to me. When he gets bored of his wife, Dad divorces her and gets all her money and land in the settlements."

"That's cold," Diana said. She looked like she smelled something vile, her voice hard.

"But he's right," Presto finally agreed on a sigh. He'd witnessed many things during his tutoring of Eric at the Montgomery Estate. "It's what his dad would do, I guess," he thought about it before saying, "but I liked your last mom, Eric. She was nice. She talked to me like I was a human being instead of an android in disguise or something."

"You mean the alien freak you turned out to be?" Eric joked, gaining a smile from Presto. The Magician had come a long way in his self-confidence much to Eric's immediate delight. Eric added, "Yeah, I like Amelia, too, even if she did throw those stupid parties."

"You didn't like her parties?" Sheila asked, thinking it might have been fun to go to nice parties. In her family, parties consisted of balloons, confetti, and lots of colors and noise. While those were great, a nice dress-up grown-up party would have been interesting.

Eric snorted and shook his head. "Dressed in a tuxedo and forced to stare at my dad's associates all night? No television, no play time, just standing around looking nice while the adults talked about things I couldn't care less about? The only fun I had at those things was when Michael and I would sneak into the conservatory and hide in the plants until some servant dragged us out muddy and complaining."

Presto sighed. "What did happen to your brother, Eric?" He hadn't seen his friend's older brother for a couple of years before they had gotten to the Realm.

"He ran away from home when I was twelve," Eric sighed. "That's what I was going to mention with this. Dad wanted Mom's money, but she left it to me and Michael in her will. Dad's the executor and can only touch it to give us stuff." Eric began folding his spare pair of trousers, taking the same slow care. At that speed, he'd be packed in about two days. He didn't look up as he spoke; he'd never even told Presto this next part. "When Dad married Amelia, she realized what he was doing and got some type of legal agreement to keep her money if they divorce. She was scared one of us might get hurt, and when Michael ran away, she got a private investigator to look for him without telling Dad. I think she thought Dad might've killed him or something." He finally looked up into Presto's horrified gold eyes, "But that wasn't Dad's style." He shrugged, and Presto put a hand on Eric's shoulder.

"Well, when Amelia couldn't find Michael, she wanted me to get a will, just in case. Dad was already saying he'd declare Michael legally dead so I'd get his part of Mom's fortune. Amelia took me to her family's lawyer and signed the papers for me as my legal mother. So, I got a will at age twelve."

"That's creepy," Bobby said.

"No, it's sad, Bobby," Sheila corrected softly. She hated the misery in Eric's eyes. His words were matter-of-fact, but his body language screamed self-doubt. She could see the overwhelmed little boy he had been, facing the loss of a brother and having a step-mother who insisted he think about his own mortality.

Eric looked at the others. "Once Michael is declared dead, which hadn't happened while I was still there," he added quickly, "then I inherit Mom's fortune and both estates and the lake property. Before I got the will Dad would have gotten everything if I died, too." Suddenly, Eric got a malicious grin on his face. "But in my will I leave everything to my cousin Vivian." He laughed, even though only Presto seemed to get the joke. "Dad's always hated his brother's kids, especially the one who traipsed off to college to become an audio-visual major. Since my will was sealed until my death, Dad wouldn't have known that Vivian got everything." Eric shoved the trousers into the pack and brushed his hands on his upper thighs. "So, Dad would have done better not to declare me dead. He'd have been able to keep dipping in the money if he said he was looking for me. Once I was dead, he was limited to the summer house he got from Marian, the horse ranch in Montana he got from Pamela, and the chateau in Milan he got from Jessica."

Presto snickered.

Bobby hooted with glee. "Oh, that's good!"

Standing, Ayesha moved around the clearing to sit next to Eric. Without a word she took his pack from him and began stuffing the equipment inside at a rapid, organized pace. "Five mothers. And your father was more interested in wealth than the happiness of his children," she sounded sad and disapproving.

Eric nodded. "Yeah, he thought we weren't his," he reminded her.

"Um," Bobby hesitated then hurried to ask, "whose were you?"

Stunned then laughing, Eric said, "Dad's of course, unless someone can prove otherwise. What he didn't get, but Amelia found out, was that my mother had been adopted. Her natural mother was from Italy and as dark haired and eyed as they come. She was short, too, about five foot four."

The desert princess merely looked at him a long moment before continuing with the packing.

Suddenly unsure of himself, Eric ran his hands across his thighs again. "So, uh," he began, searching for a subject to discuss. "Uh, Sheila and Bobby are siblings, and Presto's got Varla now - - blow my mind, Presto! - - and Diana's got a brother." He turned to Hank. "Guess you're the odd man out being the only one without siblings."

Hank shook his head and chuckled. "Wrong. I have siblings."

"You do?" Sheila felt as surprised as everyone else, except Presto. He seemed to have already known that as he nodded. "How many?" She asked.

For a long moment, Hank didn't answer. Sheila frowned, "why won't you tell me?"

He looked at her and laughed softly. "I'm trying to calculate."

"What?" Bobby tilted his head. "You gotta do math to figure out how many brothers and sisters you have?"

"Yup," Hank agreed amiably. "Now, if you mean natural siblings, I have three, all sisters. Adopted siblings would be - - uh - - well, two on that side and four there - - so," he grinned and said, "so, adopted I have five sisters and one brother. And foster I'd really have to do some major calculations."

The others stared at him, even Presto this time. Finally, Sheila asked, "Your parents adopt and foster a lot?" She felt a bit overwhelmed just barely finding out something so significant to the man she loved.

Hank shook his head. "My natural parents gave me up for adoption, but I don't know why. They kept my three sisters. Then, a lot later, they adopted two more girls from the foster home they ran. I guess they just didn't know how to handle a boy, because their foster kids were always girls, too." He smiled to show he wasn't upset by the predilections of his natural family. "My adopted father was married for a while, and they had three girls and a boy. He adopted me just before his divorce, but his wife never filled out the paperwork to adopt me, so she's not legally my mother. I just think of her as Mom. My dad fosters a lot of kids," he smiled directly at Presto who flushed but smiled back. Taking that as permission, Hank added, "including Presto for a couple years."

The others turned to look in surprise at the Magician who blushed again but nodded. "Yeah, long story short, my mom was having a rough time and her parents didn't want to care for a kid, so I got put in foster care. When Hank's dad offered to adopt me, my mom protested and took me back."

"Whoa," Bobby looked shocked. "So, you could have been Hank's adopted brother?"

"Yeah," Presto said softly.

Eric latched on a different piece of information. "You're adopted, Hank?" He couldn't fathom how Hank could so easily live with such a momentous thing.

Hank laughed. "Why, Eric? Never met a well-adjusted adoptee?" He grinned to take any sting from his words. "My dad runs the iKnight Foundation/i."

"That's Amelia's favorite charity," Eric said then blushed since he'd just said his step-mom gave Hank's dad money all the time.

The Ranger just nodded. "And dad appreciates any donations he gets. Trust me. Feeding and caring for that many kids is a lot of work and expense." He smiled again at Eric. "So, yeah, I'm part of a huge family. The numbers always change." He shrugged and looked around the group, eyes lighting on Terri. "So, Terri, are you an only child?"

"Yes," she said. "And I'm feeling a bit odd-man-out here." Terri pouted playfully, earning a laugh from the others. She turned to Presto. "So, you're from the Realm?"

He nodded happily. "Yeah. That's why I've always been drawn to magic."

Bobby grinned, teasing, "oh, and what magic you can do. Some of your spells were real doozies, Presto!"

Presto shrugged. "I've gotten better. And some of those past spells weren't so bad."

Eric nodded, surprising the others. "Yeah, there was one that was really good. If I hadn't been so me-centered, I would have been really impressed at the time."

Bobby frowned and leaned forward. "Which spell was it, Eric?"

The Cavalier stood with a stretch. "Oh, the one where he transported an aircraft carrier."

"Huh?" Bobby blinked then growled, "no fair naming a spell I wasn't in the Realm for."

Slipping his hands to his hips, Eric gave Bobby a superior look. "Oh, but it was before you left the Realm, Barbarian."

"I don't remember an aircraft carrier, Eric." Sheila frowned. "I'm sure I'd have remembered something that big."

As Diana nodded her agreement, and Presto flushed bright red, Eric threw his hands up in the air.

"I even remember the words he used," the twenty-four year old said smugly. "He said 'alla-kadavie, United States Navy.' And this huge honking aircraft carrier appeared. I tell you, it was the most impressive spell I'd ever seen. And he did it without his glasses, too." Eric grinned triumphantly at the others, who still seemed confused.

Presto nodded. In a small voice, he said "that was in the Tower of the Celestial Knights. Eric and I were together there."

"Oh!" Bobby frowned then shook himself as he recalled just how ineffectual he'd been in the Tower.

Before the group could share any more reminiscences, a commotion drew their attention to several men dragging the wizard Kelek from a boarded wagon. The older man struggled and swore at his captors until he saw the unicorn herd nearby and the Elfish Uni even closer, leaning over to harvest some of the razor leaf. Eyes widening, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, he screamed and tore his arms out of the grasp of the caravaners. "You! You foul little unicorn bitch!" he screamed, waving a finger at Uni. "I see you've been cursed to walk on two legs."

Uni straightened, startled, while Eric jumped to his feet. The men grabbed for Kelek and he darted away from them. The unicorns started circling, trying to hem him in without coming too close. No one wanted to risk his evil anti-unicorn magic.

Kelek shouted again. "I'll help you, Unicorn Bitch!"

Eric started approaching, his face ablaze with anger and hate. The others quickly followed him. Uni fingered her alicorn, looking stunned by the verbal attack mixed with the questionable offer of help.

In a clear voice, she answered, "I don't need your kind of help, Kelek."

"Oh, but I insist." Kelek shot a hand forward just as one of the caravaners made a lunge for him. Magical energy surged and shot directly towards Uni, who tried to duck out of its way.

Unfortunately, that was the exact wrong move to do as Uni had forgotten just where she was standing. When she bent over the vines willingly wrapped loosely around her neck and shoulders, causing the Elf to freeze in fear of decapitating herself. If she hadn't been so tiny, she would have been dead already.

Kelek laughed and threw more magic her way, screaming, "become a unicorn once more!"

"No! Uni!"

Eric threw himself towards Uni just as several unicorns moved to block the spell. Uni screamed. A vast violently purple mist sprang up, blocking all sight for the moment. Kelek laughed then choked as the caravaners and Silvermane attacked him, the men pushing him to the ground but the unicorn lord spearing him on his alicorn. Kelek choked again and blood surged from his mouth and chest wound. As he dropped to the ground, dying, the mist began to clear.

Where Uni had been standing stood an elegant cream colored unicorn, gold flecks throughout the body. The mane and tail were long and jet black and the eyes were a deep intense brown, almost black they were so dark. The unicorn wore barding of silver and blue and sported an alicorn of the purest ebony entwined in golden filigree.

"Uni?" Bobby breathed, wondering at the distinct change from redhead to brunette, from pale white to cream and gold. And where'd she get the equine armor?

"Bobby?" Uni's voice came from low to the ground, behind the unicorn, who looked rather overwhelmed. Varla and Timothy hurried up and used their knives to cut her free of the entangling razor leaf. She sat up, staring up at the unicorn above her in awe.

Terri drew a deep breath, stunned. She half-whispered, "that's the unicorn from my vision." And, truly, the unicorn was as beautiful as she had claimed.

Timothy helped Uni to her feet and stepped back, looking around with a puzzled frown. He checked the ground, dreading what he might find among the dangerous healing vines. Finally, he looked past the plants and unicorns to the other Champions. "Uh, where's Eric?"

Uni gasped, hands going to her mouth as she stared at the new unicorn in horror. Her voice came out almost inaudible as she said what only just became apparent to the others.

"Airk?"