(A/N: So long since I've update but I have a memory like an elephant. This chapter took so long to finally complete. I just got sidetracked and many of you who began reading this have probably lost interest. I don't blame you one bit. I will try to be quicker with the chapters but I have so much I am working on at the moment that this is a far cry. However I will try to make the next chapter a bit more prompt and not take another 10 months to upload!)

Night had fallen on Cyrodiil. Scar-Tail's black horse had made it easily to the east gate of Skingrad. The two guards outside looked at the dark argonian a bit nervous. A large gash in his arm with a scared little boy on the back of his coal-black mare. The guards at the east gate did not like it one bit.

The one to the right asked, "What business do you have in Skingrad?"

Scar-Tail was tired, hungry, and he was barely keeping his eyes straight. "I - umm - request entrance for me and the boy and the idiot cat behind us."

The two guards both looked behind the dark horse and saw nothing. They figured he was delusional as they looked at the large wound on his arm.

Apoltis then began to plead with them, "Please, my uncle is hurt. Allow us passage into the city!"

The two guards looked at each other and then opened the two large, wooden doors into the city. Scar-Tail snapped the reigns on his horse as it galloped in. The guards began to close the city gate doors when Ra'tarnik came up the path yelling out, "Wait!"

The guards did as they were yelled at with the heavily armored khajiit racing into the city, yelling back at them, "I ride with them." Referring to Scar-Tail and Apoltis.

Again, the two guards looked at each other, the one saying to the other, "Why do I feel as if I am not going to be wearing this uniform tomorrow?"

The other guard answered, "Probably the same reason I do."

The two closed the large doors wondering what they had just let into the city.

At a high paced trot, the black mare came to a sudden halt near an alchemy shop as Scar-Tail carefully got off his horse with his wounded arm. Apoltis followed suite and came rushing over to his uncle. Scar-Tail sat down near the alchemy shop looking at his gnashed arm as it shook with pain. His nerves were damaged and he would need more than potions to heal himself.

Ra'tarnik came galloping up to the two as he quickly dismounted his horse bringing it to a quick stop nearly pouncing off the back of the old yet sturdy horse. He went to the side of Scar-Tail as the shadowscale looked at the khajiit. "Blue day in Oblivion I let you help me to my feet."

Ra'tarnik smiled that cat-like smile of his saying, "I was worried, doesn't mean I am going to help." Looking down at the wound, "Doesn't look like I could either."

Apoltis gave him a longing stair of aid for Scar-Tail. Ra'tarnik looked around as all the shops were closed. Mounting back up, Ra'tarnik said to the both of them, "If I am not back in ten minutes, take him to the Two Sister Lodge on the south side of town. You will find it."

Scar-Tail looked up at Ra'tarnik and said, "I will show him there if need be." Referring to Apoltis.

Cocking his head, Ra'tarnik asked, "You have been there before?"

"A few times." Scar-Tail weakly stuttered out.

Nodding his head, Ra'tarnik nearly took off on his horse when he looked over at Apoltis. He couldn't help but blurt out, "By the Nine!"

Scar-Tail looked over at Apoltis and saw the arrow was gone and that all that remained on Apoltis's legs were the herbal wrappings. Bending over the boy with pain in his other arm he stripped the wraps off seeing that the wounds had healed themselves. As if nothing had happed to him.

Apoltis was confused and shrugged his shoulders, "What? It must have been the stone! Uncle, your arm!"

Regaining his objectiveness, Ra'tarnik took off on his painted horse riding like a mad-cat in the night through the streets of Skingrad.

Scar-tail looked at Apoltis and breathed out a long sigh of exhaustion, "So, we've got some time to kill. Mind telling me why you keep calling me uncle?"

Scar-Tail's directness threw Apoltis a bit off guard. "I - I thought that's what - what you were now. It seemed to fit you too."

A toothy grin crossed Scar-Tail's face. "Well, if that's the case, do you not think I should know a little more about you?"

"Oh-no! Its your turn, remember?"

"I would like to listen to you rather than me. Tell me about your mother. What kind of woman was she? Tell me how she hatched you?"

"Scar, I am an imperial. We do not hatch out of eggs like you."

"Whatever, you know what I meant!" He said feeling a jolt of pain surge through his arm.

Apoltis looked at the ground wondering if he should talk about her. "She was a good woman. I did not see much of her in the early hours of the day. During the evening though, I could not get away from her. We always did something different everyday." He began to relax and fade off into memory. "No matter what we did she always had this golden smile when I was with her."

Scar-Tail lost himself in Apoltis's voice. He began to fade in and out of consciousness listening closely to Apoltis even though he could barely keep his eyes open. The sweet story putting him into a relaxed state. He liked listening to the boy. It made him wish his childhood had been as delightful.

Looking down at his cloak, Apoltis began to tell that story. "I still remember when she got me this. We had played up until that night. It had rained a bit and a cold wind blew through Hackdirt. My skin was wet and it felt like my flesh was turning into ice. I told her I was cold and she told me to stay outside. When she left, it got colder somehow. Like the lack of her presence caused the temperature to drop even more. I felt so alone until she came back out and she draped this cloak over me. She gripped me tightly and said, 'Here. Even when I am not there, this will be there for you. You will never not know my touch. Even when I am gone this cloak will be there and will always keep you warm when the chill of darkness becomes its coldest.' I thanked her and we must have hugged each other for ten minutes or more."

Lost in the memory, Apoltis felt something on his shoulder. He looked over at Scar-Tail who was touching his shoulder with his good arm. He was rubbing it like it had been injured. Scar-Tail muttered out, "I am sorry Apoltis. I wish I could give you that kind of love that only a mother could give you."

Apoltis brushed away some tears saying, "Ah, it is okay uncle."

"No! No it's not." Scar-Tail said, sitting up a bit from the short winks his body was trying to take. He pulled Apoltis close to him saying, "I never knew my brood mother."

"You never knew your mother?"

Scar-Tail shook his head. "I was trained right from birth to be - to 'serve' the royal court of Argonia. I never knew the idea of a gift or a parent. Too busy being what 'they' wanted me to be." He looked down the street and saw Summitmist Manor. He nodded his head toward the large estate which made Apoltis look at the large house.

"Summitmist Manor. My first, real stealth assignment. I was about seven or eight. Most fun I ever had was hiding in that cellar. Each one of those little sheep -" Scar-Tail then stopped and decided not to finish remembering who he was talking to.

Apoltis asked, "Sheep? Were you helping a farmer?"

Scar-Tail looked at Apoltis and could not lie to him. "I was helping a group of butchers."

"Why would they need help killing sheep?"

"Because I was one of those butchers."

Apoltis was still confused but then he heard the clopping of horse hooves. Looking the other way came Ra'tarnik with another person on the back of his horse. When he was close enough he brought the horse to a stop and the person in the back dismounted the horse along with Ra'tarnik.

This person was dressed in light blue robes as he bent down to Scar-Tail. He put his hands over Scar's arm and a light blue glow came from the robed person's hands. Scar-Tail went for one of his short swords but Ra'tarnik stopped him saying, "Halt Scar! He is here to help."

The man in the robe dropped his hood looking at the khajiit. The fear in his eyes was more than evident. He weakly squeaked out, "Who are you people?" A young voice asked fitting the young face under the hood. A breton in his late teenage years with his red eyes filled with fear. His hands began to shake as Apoltis came up to him asking sheepishly, "They are my bodyguards. Can you please help him?"

The young Breton looked back down at the wounded argonian, "I can only do so much here. An expert in restoration is needed for this."

Apoltis asked with worry in his voice, "Do you know of such a person?"

Without hesitation, the young breton said, "I do." Looking back at Scar-Tail, he asked, "Can you ride?"

Snaking his way up the wall of the alchemic shop with his wound glowing a bright blue, Scar-Tail said with a little of the pain being relieved in his arm, "For a while yet, I can. Lead the way."

Getting onto his black mare slowly, Scar-Tail hefted himself on the horse with Apoltis mounting behind. It was hard for him without the help from Scar-Tail. Feeling a little energy left in the mare, Scar took the reigns loosely as she reared a bit and clopped her hooves on the ground raring to go.

Following the khajiit warrior, the brenton and Ra'tarnik both mounted the other horse and rode off for the Mages' Guild building. Their ride was swift and in less than a minute they had arrived at the front door.

Nearly falling off his horse, Scar-Tail dismounted barely standing on his feet. Apoltis jumped down quickly to help him. He tried desperately to hold up the argonian but he struggled with the bulk of scales and muscle.

That was when Ra'tarnik came over and aided Scar-Tail in walking to the building. Ra'tarnik had a hard time too his body racked with pain. His metal armor chaffing his bruises and making his own ligaments feel hefty.

Looking over at the cat, Scar-Tail said with pain ripe in his voice, "You know, I thought about shoving you away."

"I know." Ra'tarnik replied with a growl.

"If it had not been for the boy struggling with me I would have."

Another low growl for Ra'tarnik, "I know."

The four nearly charged in but the breton slowed them. The doors were unlocked as there was always somebody awake to protect the guilds' belongings. Unfortunately it was the breton this night.

Ra'tarnik asked of the beton, with Scar's good arm slung over his shoulder, "Is there somewhere were he may rest?"

"Of course."

He lead the three to a well-furnished room. The curtains were a deep, dark purple and a alchemic workbench sat in the left hand corner. A large dresser to the right hand side in the back next to a full size bed. It looked so comfortable that Scar-Tail needed no help getting to it. He launched himself at the bed and landed softly on the mattress. He rolled under the covers breathing a hiss of comfort.

Sneering, Ra'tarnik said sarcastically, "Yeah, you're welcome."

The breton came around the armored khajiit saying, "He should be okay there for now."

"Yeah, he looks it." Ra'tarnik said, turning his back on Scar-Tail.

That was around the time Apoltis came up to the breton with his hand outstretched, "My name is Apoltis."

Looking at him with a sideways glance, the breton disregarded his clear need for a handshake. Whether it was out of shyness or rudeness Apoltis wasn't too sure.

"My name is Morecaster. Hanavin Morecaster." He passed by Apoltis and out the door saying as he left, "Come, the arch-mage must know of your presence here."

Looking up at Ra'tarnik, Apoltis asked, "Not very friendly, is he?"

Ratrarnik took a couple of steps towards the small boy giving him a pat on the back saying, "He's a Breton, Apoltis. Not many of them are. And people are less friendly to others that haul them away instead of asking them to go somewhere."

The two walked out of Scar-Tail's bedroom with Apoltis asking his khajiit friend as they followed the Breton, "You forced him to help?"

Morecaster casually looked back answering the boy's question, "He most certainly did! Barging into my quarters like a sabre cat from Oblivion!"

His heavy guard armor sounded as though it was going to put Ra'tarnik right through the wooden floor boards as he walked. Growling at Morecaster he said with a jeer and a show of his teeth, "I may have barged in but I don't like asking for help twice."

Thinking about Ra'tarnik's words, Apoltis decided to inquirer, "Wait, you asked twice?"

Again, Morecaster answered the boy's question, "I was busy with my studies."

They turned a few corners and were nearly to the arch-mage's chamber when Apoltis grabbed a hold of Morecaster's robes nearly swinging him around, infuriated, "Tell me it is not so?! That a student of healing people didn't want to heal?! How in Akotosh's name does that make sense?!"

Morecaster with a dull stair and a snarl to his lips retorted, "I have work child that I must complete! If I do not, my grades will fall and I will be booted from the Mages Guild as a student! You're scaly friend is of little concern to me, you insolent little whelp!"

Suddenly, Morecaster felt the edge of Ra'tarnik's ax against his throat as he was forced against the wall by the edge. Ra'tarnik spoke with his teeth bared in a snarl of lion-like fury, "I would watch my tongue as you speak to this boy when I am present, elf! And consider yourself lucky his scaly friend is ill otherwise you wouldn't have a head to speak of. Keep these little pieces of information in mind for the next time you feel testing your arrogance on him." Relieving the ax's blade from the Breton, Ra'tarnik returned it to his back and Morecaster felt his throat just making sure it was still intact.

That was about the time the arch-mage himself opened his chamber door being awakened by all the commotion. He was a high elf with long, white hair. He had a little more weight on him than most high elves as his yellowish skin was a darkened gold. Nowhere near as dark as Scar-Tail's scales but dark for the skin of an altmier. He looked at the boy, the khajiit, and the bosmer student with a half-a-sleep smile. Very uncharacteristic for a high elf.

Bowing in his presence, Morecaster began pleading, "Arch-mage Alcandur, please forgive the obscene lateness of the hour but I had no other choice!"

Shaking his head, the arch-mage Alcandur was trying to get himself aware, "What time is it?"

"It is two in the morning sir."

Blinking with exhaustion, Alcandur's smile did not fade as he said in a gentle tone, "New students?"

Morecaster looked at the two and then back at his master, "Umm, no sir, they are…"

Apoltis interrupted him, "Grand master sir, we seek your aid, sire."

Letting out an almost child-like laugh, Alcandur bent down to get a good look at the boy's face with a smile, "Sire? I am not the king of anything, dear boy."

Morecaster rolled his eyes saying, "Arch-mage, these two came for restoration help."

Alcandur stood up from the boy starting to get back some of his senses, "They do realize we specialize in destruction, don't they?"

"Yes well, I tried to convince the khajiit of that but he wouldn't listen."

Looking at the cat, Alcandur asked Ra'tarnik, "It is very late, please state you business so that I may return to bed."

Staring a bit sideways at the altmier, Ra'tarnik was cautious of this overfriendly high-elf, "One of our party was injured by a daedric weapon and he is…"

Alcandur quickly shut his bedroom door right in the group's face. They were all left awestruck until he came back out with arch-mage robes on and a book in hand with the restoration symbol on the cover. He marched out of the room with a determined look on his face heading instinctively right for Scar-Tail's room. He didn't even look at the group behind him as he asked, "How long ago was he attacked?!"

Apoltis was the first to answer, rushing along with the others, "About several hours ago."

"Which type of weapon was it?"

Apoltis had to think about it before answering but it was Ra'tarnik who answered, "A bola."

Alcandur stopped outside of Scar-Tail's room door and looked back slowly at the warrior khajiit, "A bola? I did not believe daedra carried such weapons."

With a toothy sneer, Ratarnik replied, "This one did."

Nodding his head, Alcandur entered Scar-Tail's room with the large book telling everyone to leave him alone in the room. He shut the door firmly as Apoltis looked up at Morecaster, "I thought you said he was a master at restoration?"

Morecaster sat down on a seat in the hallway saying, "He is. Well, his master mage was."

Feeling week in his knees, Apoltis nearly fell down on the floor with Ra'tarnik sitting down right next to him. With worry in his cat-like eyes, Ra'tarnik concernedly asked, "Hey little champion, are you feeling ill?"

Swallowing hard the boy looked at his good cat friend saying, "I do not. My stomach just feels - empty. It feels like it did when my mother died." tears welling up in Apoltis's eyes.

Ra'tarnik put an arm over the boy's shoulder saying to him, "You know, I have met plenty of fighters, soldiers, and adventures in my day. You're scaly friend in there is probably one of the toughest I have ever seen."

"You know he didn't even know his own mother?!"

"That's very sad. I knew mine."

"What was she like?"

"Oh, she use to talk about the sands of Elsweyr all the time while moving from town to town. One day we were moving camp when these badits came. They killed her."

Morecaster and Apoltis both were shocked by this. Ra'tarnik's head hung low thinking about that day.

"I'm so sorry!" Apoltis said.

Taking a long breath, Ra'tarnik gave one of those toothy grins to Apoltis saying, "Oh, I learned to live with it. And - I got the bandits eventually."

Overcome with curiosity, Morecaster asked, "What did you do to them?"

Ra'tarnik couldn't really remember. All he could remember was there was a lot of blood involved. He looked at the Breton saying, "It wasn't pleasant for them."

Alcandur emerged from Scar-Tail's room fifteen minutes later saying to the group with a glazed over look in his eye, "He will be fine. I tell you, I do not know where he received such a horrible daedric wound but it was probably one of the worst I have ever seen." He looked at Apoltis and Ra'tarnik, "Good thing you got him here when you did!"

Shaking his head, Morecaster said, "Good, now I can get back to my studies and…"

"Not so fast my pupil. First, I'd like to know just where these three ran amuck such vicious daedra?" Alcandur said to Morecaster.

With a pretentious sneer, Morecaster said, "Probably in some accursed cave they should not have been in. Maybe looking for miners to steal from or the like."

Ra'tarnik growled at Morecaster and struggled not to grasp his battle-ax. "Do not dare call me a thief! Especially after the story I have told you!"

Trying to restore some order, Alcandur asked Apoltis, "Young lad, can you recall the events?"

Looking at Ra'tarnik and the Breton who stayed calm so the boy could retell the tale, Apoltis began, "He wants my stone."

Alcandur was a bit confused. "Your stone?"

"Yeah. Gorghast - the man that killed my mother."

Nearly falling back against the wall, Alcandur sat down on the floor feeling light head and taken back by shock. Morecaster came to his aid holding the arch-mage's hand, "Arch-mage, what is it? What have they done to you?!"

Looking as though he had been hit by a heavy mace, Alcandur said back, "Nothing. It's just shock really. It will go away soon. Gorghast! Gorghast - I have not heard that name in well over half-a-century!"

Apoltis and Ra'tarnik looked at each other.

Still a little shaken but standing now with help from Morecaster, Alcandur said, "Come, into the study. You must know what you face." Exhaling with stoutness, Alcandur lead the way to the study as Morecaster, Ra'tarnik, and Apoltis followed him.

Making a few twist and turns down some hallways and then proceeding down two flights of stairs, they entered a huge circular room wall-to-wall with books. An altmier female sat behind a desk with a book that seemed short but for some reason seemed to have the girl's complete attention. She was about to say something when Alcandur stopped her saying, "Malfintia, Where are the books I had from my college days?"

With a confused look on her face she whispered out shyly, "I recall them being in a display case."

Alcandur picked a section of shelves and walked brazenly towards it. The other three followed while Malfintia just kind of blinked and went back to the book she was reading, The Strapping Argonian Slave.

Finding the display case with the books, Alcandur produced a key and opened the case like he was opening a tomb of a great king. He picked up one of the books and set it down on a table next to him. The other three sat at the table with bright torch light abound to illuminate the book well.

Flipping through the pages in a hurry, Alcandur said with a concentrated look on his face and his eyes glued on the book, "This is a historical recording of everyone who attended the Mages' College when I went to school there. It has drawn portraits and bios of them all. He must be somewhere in here!"

Ra'tarnik hissed out, "Gorghast?"

Alcandur was busy flipping the pages.

"He didn't look barely over the age of forty."

Still flipping the pages, Alcandur retorted, "You can do much when you are -" He stopped on a page, turned the book around for the others to see, "The bishop-mage of the college and to the empire."

The three looked at the picture and saw his face. There it was like it had been this evening.

Apoltis was first, "That's him!"

Ra'tarnik came next, "I do not understand. How can he still look middle-aged when this portrait was taken over fifty year ago?"

Morecaster was last, "What's a bishop-mage?"

Alcandur made a slight nod to Morecaster, "My dear student, you're so young. You don't remember when the empire was recruiting mages from the Altmierie Dominion. He was trained here in Cyrodiil but soon left to practice necromancy and conjuration where he wouldn't be judged feeling he had learned everything he needed to from this part of Tameriel. He became a powerful warlock and became lead advisor of magic and magika to the Imperial Empire. That is what a bishop mage is.

I even remember why he was at the college. Some of the students had been a bit - shall we say - too ambitious."

Ra'tarnik took a sideways glance at Alcandur, "I could take a guess that I've met one of those rowdy magika users."

Morecaster was mortified, "How dare you accuse the arch-mage of being such an unruly whelp of…"

Alcandur interrupted, "I was the one who recommended it to the others."

Shocked, Morecaster looked over at his teacher and said, "But…"

"Hush Morecaster. These good people deserve to know the power they trifle with." Returning to the story. "I was one of the best students in destruction and just started on some of my illusion and restoration. Making rats and wolves appear. Couldn't keep them for too long but only a few seconds was all I needed to scare a few of the girls. I tell you when they screamed and their undergarments were in full display, shaking like -" Alcandur looked at the others at the table. He cleared his throat and continued on. "Anyway, I was up for punishment and the Bishop Mage himself was to discipline me. Now, I had been discipline before…"

"You had?!" Morecaster asked flabbergasted.

"Sure! This was not a first time I had done such things though it was one of the safest. Usually it was setting a small portion of their bed sheets ablaze or freezing the water as they bathed. That was a personal favorite of mine."

Ra'tarnik shook his head trying to hide a slight smile knowing the exact reason any male would want to see a female in cold water.

"At the time, Bishop Mage to me was just a title and nothing more. I disregarded it as many others I had. He entered the chambers the same way too. As pompous and proud as any of the other mages at the college. Though, unlike most of the others, he didn't acknowledge me. He just sat down and began reading." Alcandur's voice had changed. His pleasant demeanor was gone. Replaced by a sad voice of foreboding. A slow, scared volume to his words now as he recalled what had happened to him in his youth.

"Sitting there looking at the volumes of books around us and the fading sunlight I sat. I wondered if he was going to punish me at all. Seemed to be such a lousy punishment, sitting in a chair. He couldn't keep me in that chair. So I thought.

I finally commented to him, 'Excuse me?' He didn't say anything. So I said louder and more charged with my own arrogance, 'Am I going to be punished or not?' He just sat there and said to me, 'You are already being punished.' I remember thinking to myself again that this was a light punishment. Still, I decided to inquire further. For I had things to do. That was when I rose from the chair and he slammed the book down on the table and said, 'Sit!' I did just that. Not out of fear mind you but because I had no control over my body. When my body hit the chair it felt as if I had fallen back into a thousand tiny spikes. All of them piercing my flesh at once. Pain had I never felt before or even to this day as I had felt on that day. My screams were pain filled and loud but he stood up and said, 'Silence!' My very tongue seemed to choke me at that point. Gagging on my own appendage inside my mouth I remember my body going limp and -" Alcandur stopped remembering things from his past he really dared not remember for a long while but he looked at young Apoltis and found courage to continue on for his sake. He began to make hand gestures now as he spoke. Almost as if he was trying to pull the words from his mouth.

"I should have fallen out of the chair but I stayed. In that chair. A chair I had sat in so many times before now felt like a torture device I had never been privy to. Like I had entered some other alternate world. Some wild nightmare plain of Oblivion that looked very reminiscent of my college. That was when he began to rend the flesh from my bones. Being a master of all magic he could tear me asunder and put me back together like nothing happened. One of the worst things he did was let me out of that room."

Apoltis leaned forward and touched Alcandur's hand. "Why? Surely you'd be happy to exit that room."

Alcandur looked back at Apoltis, "Because I survived his torture. Some of the things he did to me I will not repeat. I will say for three hours I was in that room. When he was done with me he was aggravated and I understood not - not until I got back to my own bed. He had put some accursed spell on me that would make all the pain I had felt last for days. Never calming and never settling until those days were over. When he left after a week or so I understood then why he had been angry with me. He knew I was unbreakable. He threw a lot at me and I did not break. My friends were not so lucky. By week's end I had lost all of my friends either to madness or suicide."

Growling with anger, Ra'tarnik asked, "Nothing could be done?!"

Shaking his head, Alcandur said, "Of course not! The most powerful wizard in all of Tamriel with the support of the Empire and the Altmeir Dominion, I think not."

Apoltis slid off his chair and felt the stone. He swallowed and looked at Ra'tarnik. The kahjiit warrior looked back at the kid worried, "What is it, little champion?"

Thinking, staring at the stone floor, "I'm going to give him the stone."

Alcandur rushed over to Apoltis before anybody else could say anything, "No! Apoltis - There is a bad reason he wants that stone. I don't know what it is but -" Alcandur struggled for words.

Ra'tarnik didn't. "He'll just kill all of us anyway. I know people like him."

Blinking at his friend, "No. If I give it to him then he might just get rid of me."

"And that would be a good thing?!" Ra'tarnik growled nearly roaring out in anger. He was starting to get mad.

Alcandur looked at Apoltis sadly, "I'll answer for you. It wouldn't be. You must live."

Crying, Apoltis asked, "Why? For a stupid stone?"

"No!" A voice came from behind the rest. Scar-Tail stumbled in the room barely standing on his feet and Apoltis ran over to him. Alcandur in shock said, "In the name of Akatosh! How is he even conscious?!"

Scar-Tail slid down the stone wall and was breathing labouredly. He seemed to have several thousand pounds on his back. He was down on both knees as he hugged Apoltis. The two looked at each other and Scar barely edged out, "You - mean more to - me - than anyone - I have - ever - known." Scar's scaled hand gripped Apoltis's shoulder hard and lovingly. "I - kid you can't - what would your - mother think?!"

Morecaster got up in shock. "How is he even talking?!"

Alcandur was in stone silence. "Be ready. He might change any minute."

"What do you mean?"

"I had him under a relaxation spell. Keeping him calm. The restoration I used on him activated his body's will to survive and protect. He is in a wide awake nightmare if I hadn't calmed him. I can already tell its wearing off."

Apoltis looked down at the stone of the floor. "She's dead uncle. I know that now. She doesn't care about me anymore."

"That's - not true. You made a promise to her. Keep it Apoltis. Sometimes - all we are - is our word sake." Scar-Tail stood up and patted Apoltis on the back holding the boy close as he struggled to stand when he looked up. All manor of demons were in the room. Apoltis felt Scar's grip get tight around him. Scar hissed out, "Who are all of you?!" Unsheathing his sword. "you will not get him I swear it by everything he holds dear. I swear it on his mother's grave!"

Alcandur rushed behind Scar-Tail, the argonian assassin not even aware of his presence. He grabbed his sword arm and tried to keep him from striking at the invisible demons. Yelling out, Alcandur struggled with the lean strength of the argonian, "Help Morecaster. We need to get him back up stairs."

Stepping away from the argnian as he swiped the air. Apoltis having to duck from being hurt. Scar hissing out with primal survival and instinct. "You're trick don't effect me. Apoltis stay close!"

Again, Alcandur yelled out as he was slung around by Scar-Tail, "Morecaster, help me please!"

All the apprenticing mage did was back up faster.

Roaring at Morecaster, Ra'tarnik made him fall over himself with fear, "Coward!" Swiftly moving he grabbed Scar-Tail all by himself nearly pushing away Alcandur. He struggled against Scar not knowing the lean argonian was this strong. Hauling him up, step-by-step, Ra'tarnik got him back to his room with Alcandur racing in shutting the door. Apoltis raced up the steps but met the closed door.

The two were only busy with Scar-Tail for a few minutes coming back out of his room with him lightly sleeping and them slightly exhausted. Apoltis hugged Ra'tarnik as he hugged him back. He then said to Alcandur, "I think your apprentice needs some education in the art of backbone."

Taking in a long breath, Alcandur said, "I think you may have a point."

Apoltis let go of Ra'tarnik, "Is he going to be okay?!"

Smiling showing those large, white teeth of his, Ra'tarnik answered, "He'll be fine by morning. Just needs some rest. Speaking of which -" Looking at Alcandur, "Do you have anywhere me and the tyke could rest?"

Alcandur smiled. He lead them to a room. Two beds which both Ra'tarnik and Apoltis quickly went to. Apoltis getting comfortable with Ra'tarnik shedding his armor climbing into the other. Standing by the side of the door, Alcandur said with a slight smile, "Your argonian friend will be up before you. I will send him your way."

Going to leave, Alcandur heard Apoltis speak.

"Alcandur?"

He turned to face the boy.

"Thank you. For all that you have done."

"You are welcome child. Be careful out on all of your journeys. No matter where they lead never give into Gorhast. Never."

Nodding his head, Apoltis watched the ach-mage close the door and he snuggled down to rest. His dreams filled with Gorhast's face and his mother's. Both in nightmarish visages making him sleep unsoundly.