A/N: I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!!!! Hello, wonderful, wonderful readers!!!! It's soooooo good to be back. I've missed y'all. This is the second to last chapter!! TAPH is drawing to a close!! Yes, this chapter is longer than most, but a lot of stuff happens. I know what you're thinking: "Oh noooooo!!! Not another LONG one!!!!" But, trust me, you'll like this one. In fact, you'll like this one soo much that you'll forget that I ever went on hiatus. I know you're dying to read it, but first I must say I'm going on a trip this week that will have consequences on next week. I'll explain in the last A/N. So, for right now, enjoy!!!!

Disclaimer: This is self-explanatory, isn't it? Then why do I have to write one? Legal stuff? So what? I don't have any money even if someone does sue me. I'm only rich in imagination and you can't have that! You wanna hear it anyway? Fine. I. Own. Nothing. Happy? Good, 'cause I'm not.

Part Six: In a Dying Breath

"I can't believe I agreed to this." Innes muttered under his breath.

"Well . . . I can always go back to Renais." Eirika pointed out.

"Now, now. Let's not be hasty." He said quickly. "I've already made that mistake."

Eirika smiled wryly. "Indeed, you have." On sudden impulse, she slipped her arm through his as if they were out on a late night stroll rather than walking to their posts for the night watch.

Innes looked down at her quickly, but didn't make a move to pull away. Rather, he pulled her a few inches closer. She could tell there was something on his mind by the way he stared ahead unblinkingly. She didn't mention it or ask him about it. More likely than not he'd say or do something he'd later regret in response to her question.

As they drew closer to the first construction site, Innes placed a hand over the one that rested on his arm. Without looking her way, he spoke. "Eirika, you may consider my precautions overwhelming or perhaps unnecessary, but you must stay by my side at all times. Each night I come here, I never know what I may find. As of late, it has been nothing. However, these . . . accidents have gone on too long for me not to be overprotective. This could be a routine night and nothing shall happen or, this could be the night that hopefully concludes everything. In any case, I want you to be near me, so—should anything happen—I'd at least have a chance of keeping you from harm."

She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She knew he wanted to protect her, but she was incredibly bored with his fancy proclamations, his eloquent vows of safety. She knew this was a very serious situation—one that no one could take lightly—so she kept her aggravated tone in check.

"You forget, Innes, that I can also spar with the best of them." She told him in neutral tones. "You don't come out of a war without picking up a few skills."

But he shook his head. "I don't forget, Eirika. I could never forget the way you charged ahead of me to take on the Demon King's soulless corpse. There was a moment—just one moment—where the Demon King could have killed you. You were oblivious to the danger and struck with all you had. The Demon King never completed his attack and you retreated to allow another to strike. I admit, I had never been more afraid."

Again, he shook his head, in amused disbelief. "You fought and you won—I didn't have a thing to do about it. I know you can hold your own. Nevertheless," He looked over at her then, capturing her bright aqua eyes with his steel gray ones. "I want you at my side if not to protect you, then to at least know you are safe."

"Innes, I know you mean well, but you needn't protect me. I'll be fine." She assured him, breaking the eye contact. She knew she wouldn't be able to think clearly if she continued to stare into those stormy gray orbs.

He brought their walk to a halt. She glanced at him curiously. Innes placed a hand on her shoulder and tilted her chin up so she was forced to stare into his pewter depths. She almost hated how those eyes did funny things to her heart. It beat like a weak and fluttery bird on its last breath. He gave her a long, contemplative stare, oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"You know, if you so much as obtain a scratch, Ephraim will kill me." He told her calmly.

"Then I'll be careful." She marveled for a moment at the evenness of her voice.

But Innes wasn't finished. "Also know that if you do acquire even a scratch, I will be forced to send you back to Renais despite the fact I need help."

She smiled at his choice of words. He needed help. Not Frelia, not his people, but him. What was better, he was unaware of his slip-up. "In that case, I'll be especially careful."

"You have better be."

Then his arms slid down to her waist and he pulled her close. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were closed, she noticed, and he seemed completely content with simply holding her. She could say the same for herself.

"You have no idea, Eirika." Innes whispered, his breath flickering over her face. "No idea." He drew back in time to see her furrowed brow.

"No idea about what, Innes?"

But he shook his head sadly. "It's nothing. Never you mind."

But as he said this, his finger trailed over her lips, a ghost of a touch. Looking up into his face, she could see his bittersweet longing. It all seemed so unfair. He wanted to kiss her—even a blind man could see that. But, no. He had to "prove" himself "worthy." She wanted to scream. And she almost did. However, she had a better idea. If he wasn't going to make the first move, she was. She guided his hands to her waist and then settled her hands on either side of his face. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his. She felt him stiffen, but only for a moment. His lips were firm, but soft beneath hers. It may not have been the traditional way to go about courting another person, but she was through with waiting. And, apparently, so was Innes. After the initial shock wore off, he kissed her back, moving his lips in synch with hers. Before they became too carried away, Eirika was the one to withdraw, gasping for much needed breath.

She smiled triumphantly at him. "There . . . Innes. What say you . . . to that?" She asked between breaths. "What does your theory say about . . . a worthy woman kissing an . . . unworthy man?"

He smiled back at her. "It says . . . she makes him whole . . . makes him worthy and," His grin grew devilish. "Eager for another."

This time his mouth descended on hers. In one motion he was able to express his relief, his utter joy, and his need. Eirika was beginning to understand just how long his yearning for her had gone unnoticed. This kiss was a little more possessive, but still gentle and still passionate. Though this kiss was intense, he was still Innes and Innes wouldn't—and didn't—push her any farther than that. A hand combed through her hair and another settled on her waist. This went on, seemingly, for eternity. They reveled in the simple bliss, an outlet for their restrained, frustrated affections. Eirika's lung were begging for oxygen, but her heart told her to race on, to drink in every last drop of happiness. When she grew lightheaded and when her movements faltered, Innes pulled back. She nearly collapsed at the beautiful sensation of her lungs filling with oxygen, but Innes steadied her, pulling her to his chest.

They both gasped and panted, buzzing with energy. Eirika gave way to the high of happiness, clinging weakly to Innes's tunic. When she looked up at him, she found her gaze resting upon a completely different person. His silver eyes were wide and nearly glowing. His face was alight with what she could only assume was happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness. The bruises beneath his eyes seemed to have vanished. He was no longer the haggard Innes she had grown accustomed to. He was an Innes she had never seen before. She liked this change. She liked it very much. She now knew what to do when he grew ornery with her, or stubborn—which he quite often was. One kiss and he was a subject to her will. Oh, Eirika liked this very much.

The lighthearted look on his face brought on a fit of laughter, for some odd reason. She felt like flying and she couldn't suppress her laughter. It was such a relief. All of it was. Releasing Innes with a kiss, wallowing in the sheer ecstasy of such a simple—but intimate—action, the dizzying high that followed: all of it was a relief. And from relief, laughter was born. She all but lied in Innes's arms as the laughter robbed her of the last of her strength. He looked down at her with amusement glimmering in his silvery eyes, still trying to catch his breath.

"While you're laughing your pretty little head off, I'm trying to figure out how I should start my will." Innes said with mock sternness. "I'm almost certain Ephraim will kill me now."

Eirika grabbed enough breath to speak. "Don't be silly. . . He's completely . . . fine with it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." Eirika sighed, finding her breath. She straightened and stood on her own two feet, albeit a little shakily.

Innes smirked. "It doesn't take much to incapacitate you."

Eirika set her hands on her hips. "Oh? Well, it doesn't take much to distract you, Mr. Cool and Collected!"

He folded his arms over his chest. "Well, your childhood crush kissing you is a bit distracting."

She beamed. "Aw! I was your childhood crush? How cute."

Innes blushed—yes, blushed—and averted his gaze. "Don't read too much into that."

Eirika couldn't hold back the giggle that burst from her mouth. "I could tease you, but I don't think I will."

He glanced over at her, relief in his eyes. "Oh?"

She shook her head. "Nope!"

"Oh, good."

"I'll use this as blackmail!"

Innes groaned and hung his head. "Beautiful."

"Talking about me?"

"Of course." He shook his head in amusement and snaked an arm around her waist. "Eirika, I believe my future with you is bright." He took a breath to collect himself. "I think we've left Karlen waiting long enough. It's getting late; let's wrap this up."

Innes's ash-gray eyes cut through the darkness. He could hear the workers walking on the wooden platforms, their boots making hollow clunking sounds. There were workers on the stone structures as well, their footsteps like soft taps. As usual, his favored bow, Nidhogg, was in hand, an arrow ready to be knocked at a moment's notice. He was feeling extra aware tonight. The shadows seemed to be crawling with hidden dangers . . . at least they were in Innes's mind. Eirika had already snapped at him twice for being irrationally overprotective, but her irritation fell on deaf ears. There was a tenseness in the air that he didn't like, one that hadn't been there the previous nights.

He followed the group from site to site, walking as quietly as possible. His eyes flitted across the area, taking in every detail at a glance. His left hand clenched on the bow for the umpteenth time that night. He was just itching to release a bolt into the darkness, to see if a cry of pain would return to him. Something wasn't right tonight. Something was very off. Eirika seemed to have picked up on it after a time for her hand had fallen to rest on the pommel of her sword, Sieglinde.

"Innes," She whispered to him softly so as not to let the workers overhear. "There's something . . . wrong about this. Something in the air."

"I know," He whispered back. "I felt it the moment we joined the night watch. Stay close, all right?"

For once she didn't fight him about it. She only nodded as her grip tightened on her sword.

They were in the Frelian Stone room when his attention was drawn to a group of five workers, standing together, talking quietly amongst one another. Innes approached them. "Is there something wrong, men?" He asked, looking down at the spot on the platform they all seemed to be staring at.

One of the men pointed to the planking. "The wood here is rotten through, sire." He said. "None of us would've used rotten wood. Someone must have, but we don't know who could've done it. Only the day crew works and we haven't heard a single sound tonight. No one could've changed the wood between shifts. Had to have been done during the day."

The saboteur is among the workers as I had suspected. But the next question is who?

"Hmm, what if the gods rotted the wood?" One man murmured. "Maybe it's not us, but the gods. Maybe they're jealous or somethin'."

Innes shook his head. "I don't think any mystical power is behind this. This, men, is the workings of an angered human. This person most likely holds a grudge against Frelia or myself." He looked at each of them. "Is it possible to determine which shift was working here today?"

"Probably, but we don't have the schedules." Another man answered. "Ask Karlen for 'em."

"Where can he be found now?" Eirika asked from his side.

"Probably at the bottom of the stairs." The first man told them.

Innes nodded and led Eirika down the twisting, half finished staircase to the bottom of the tower. They found the chief architect near the entrance, talking quietly with a few men. The couple's approach alerted Karlen and he turned to face them. The men he was talking to departed silently. In the gloom of dim lanterns, Innes narrowed his eyes. Those men hadn't look like construction workers. He shrugged it off mentally. It was probably just the lighting.

"Ah, Prince Innes. Is there something wrong?" Karlen asked, seeing his troubled expression.

"Yes," Eirika answered for him. "Your men have found rotted planking in the floor of the Stone Room. They say that only someone in the day shift could have done it."

"I may not be an expert," Innes said. "But I believe your workers wouldn't make the mistake of using rotten wood, correct? This means they purposely put it there. Can you find out which shift was working on the tower today?"

Karlen nodded absently. "I'll have to take a look at my schedules for that. Would you like to come with me? The men will continue on as routine."

"Of course."

Innes followed the man outside into the cool darkness of night. Immediately, something worried him. Some instinct of his told him to grab Eirika, shove her back into the tower, and loose bolt after bolt into the blackness. His skin crawled and his scalp prickled. He didn't like this at all. Innes studied the man in front of him and noted the way he seemed unaffected. He glanced back at Eirika, shooting her a silent message with his eyes. Eirika, though, didn't need any prodding as she unsheathed her sword. Karlen, hearing the soft shing, stiffened, his step faltering. The architect turned around and furrowed his brows worriedly.

"It's fine, Karlen." Innes reassured him. "This is simply precautionary."

The lean man frowned. "You've never done this before, your Highness."

"Something is making me edgy tonight, Karlen." Innes said softly. "Do you feel it, the tension in the air?"

"I don't know what you mean, Prince Innes." He said gruffly, his eyes glancing quickly out into the darkness.

Innes wordlessly followed the man's darting eyes. He could see nothing, but, judging by the way the other man's eyes focused on one particular point in the darkness, Karlen obviously could. That was when it all clicked into place. The strange figures talking softly with Karlen, the passive assurance with which Karlen walked, the fidgeting of the man at the sound of Eirika's withdrawing blade: Innes had found his culprit. He didn't know the man's motives, but he read the man's actions. They say actions speak louder than words and Karlen's actions told Innes the man was going to make a desperate move.

"Don't you, Karlen? I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. You can feel it too. It's the apprehension of battle—that is what is in the air." Innes said calmly. "But you're not a soldier, Karlen. You didn't know what to look for when you greeted me this night, but I did. And now you do because the battle is nearly upon us."

As the Frelian prince spoke, Karlen nervously edged away. There was true fear in his eyes; he had heard countless tales of Innes's ruthlessness in the heat of battle, but there was something beneath the fear. That emotion was what set a chain of reactions off. As Karlen made a signal with his hands, Innes knocked an arrow into the rest. Two shadows lurched from the darkness, taking on a humanoid form and Innes fired off his first shot. The arrow flew high as the first shadow darted to the ground in a fast blur.

Assassins. He hired assassins to finish this once and for all.

Innes wasted no time in loading another bolt. With a quick glance at Eirika, he saw that she had engaged the second shadow. He gritted his teeth, but turned back to his opponent. The second arrow whizzed past the assassin's head. The dark blur darted in and Innes fired off arrow after arrow in quick procession.

I can't let him get close or I'm dead.

The assassin paused long enough to deflect his last arrow with the blade of his dagger. Then the man cloaked in shadows darted off into the night. Innes loaded another arrow and kept two more wedged between his fingers. Assassins relied on stealth, the ability to traverse any area without a sound or a sight. Innes hadn't encountered many assassins during the War of the Stones, but he knew how to hinder their precious stealth. He knew his next move would leave him open to an attack, but he had to do it should he want to walk away alive.

Innes, who had an obsession with being prepared, reached into a pouch on his quiver and withdrew a piece of flint. He held the stone in his hand between the shafts of the arrows and thought through his next move. He was the target; Eirika was just an added bonus. Innes was confident he could draw them away, and with careful maneuvering he could destroy their haven in the darkness. With that decided, he slipped the extra arrows into the quiver and took off at a sprint. The layout of the construction site flashed through his mind.

Turn left, now down the lane to the gates. Sidestep the pile of timber and round the corner. Now, up the stairs . . . the half finished stairs. Heedless of the possibilities of a fall, Innes ran up the stairs of the guardhouse and made his way to the watchtower. He slammed the door shut and cursed when he found no lock had yet been installed. No matter, he could do what he needed in moments.

Setting aside Nidhogg and ignoring the part of his brain that screamed in protest of the action, Innes tore his sleeves and wrapped them around the arrowheads of his bolts. He tied them hastily with quick fingers and shoved the arrows back into the quiver. Half of his bolts—which were roughly ten in number—were now covered with the material of his shirtsleeve. He loaded an arrow without cloth and searched quickly through the room. The flint was still in his hand, but was useless without a piece of steel to set off the sparks. He hurriedly combed the shelves with his hands in the dark.

Please, oh, please. There has to be some kind of steel in here. Light above, let Eirika be safe.

His fingers touched something hard and cold and distinctly steel. He wasn't sure what the object was, but he grabbed it up anyway. At that moment he heard the door creak open. The sound lasted only a fraction of a second as the assassin discovered his presence was made known. Innes found a window that had yet to be installed with glass and jumped. If he remembered correctly, there should be a pile of timber below. Of course, the timber could be under the other window on the opposite side of the room. He fell two stories and collapsed to his knees once his boots touched wood. The landing was far from soft. Pushing the pain of abused knees to the back of his mind, Innes straightened and ran. The first few steps threatened to pull him to the ground, but he determinedly raced back to where Eirika was.

Gods, I hated leaving her. Please be all right.

He turned right and heard Eirika's steps and grunts of effort as steel met steel. He skidded to a halt beside her. "Eirika! Are you all right?"

"Yes!" She gasped out. "Where were you?!"

"I . . . had to get a few supplies. I'm sorry, but I'm here now."

"I fine job you're doing protecting me!" She scoffed.

"You told me you didn't need protecting!" He exclaimed.

"Yes, but I never thought you'd actually listen to me!" She said and he could hear the grin in her voice.

He grunted. "Women! There's no living with them!"

"Oh, hush! Like you're any better!"

Innes released his arrow as he saw a shadow shift. As soon as the bolt had left the bow, Innes knocked a cloth-bound arrow into the rest. With some clever hand movements, he struck the flint and steel together with one hand over the cloth head of the arrow. A spark landed on the cloth and flickered into life. He prayed that the flame would stay alight once it was sent hurtling through the air. Had he some oil, it would be a different matter. But he did the best he could with what he had. Letting the flaming arrow fly, he hurriedly loaded another arrow. The fiery bolt struck timber and the little flame fed on that. He did this several times, until his cloth-headed bolts were gone. The area was now well lit and the assassins were quickly finding that their safety in the shadows was rapidly diminishing.

Innes knocked an arrow and set an anchoring point. He waited patiently as the assassin darted back and forth, drawing closer. He loosed three arrows quickly, one after the other. A smirk found its way to his lips when a pained cry met his ears. His assassin was slumped on the ground, panting his final breaths. He was about to turn and help Eirika, when the fallen assassin threw a thin, but deadly stiletto. It struck Innes in the back of his previously wounded shoulder. He cursed aloud and reached around to tug the little blade from his flesh. Had he not turned the moment he had, the stiletto would have surely caught him in the throat.

Tossing the weapon to the ground, Innes loaded one of the few arrows he had left and raised the bow. This action sparked a twinge of pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it for the moment. Eirika's assassin would have noticed the change in the situation and would target Innes instead. Once the thorn was gone, the splinter could be taken care of later. If Eirika's assassin was coming for him, then where was Karlen?

Innes's gray eyes scanned the area. The impromptu torches gave him some light to see by, but he couldn't locate Karlen. His attention was diverted to the blur of movement coming straight at him. He raised his bow too late. Bracing for the killing stroke, Innes gritted his teeth and a flash of remorse struck his chest.

Eirika . . .

. . . suddenly appeared before him with a vicious swipe from Sieglinde. The assassin didn't have time to swerve and was cut from his left shoulder to his right hip. The man fell to the dirt with a cry of agony. Eirika turned and shot him a dazzling smile. He quirked a corner of his mouth into a half smile and slowly shook his head.

"Have I ever mentioned that you never cease to amaze me?" He said, reaching out to stroke her cheek. His fingers met a warm, sticky liquid and he withdrew to find blood coating his fingertips. Innes frowned and brushed aside her disheveled turquoise hair to reveal a shallow cut stretching from the corner of her mouth to her ear. "Eirika—"

"Innes," She grasped his hand and guided it away. "I've had worse, much worse. This is nothing."

He huffed out a breath and decided not to fight her on it. She was as stubborn as he, possibly more so. He shook his head and cast a glance around. "Where's Karlen run off to?" He mused aloud with evident steel in his voice.

"He probably fled the scene, thinking his assassins would finish us off." Eirika said unhappily. "And I thought he was such a nice man."

"No," Innes narrowed his eyes. "He might have been afraid, but he thirsted for revenge. I saw it in his eyes. He wouldn't leave. He knew the assassins wouldn't stop us for long. No, he went to prepare himself."

"What?" Eirika's puzzlement rang in her voice.

Innes gave another shake of his head. "I'm not sure what his motive is, but frankly I'm not entirely surprised. I knew I would receive attempts on my life soon enough. War and lost lives always stirs the need to blame and to avenge. Some are consumed by these feelings and lose all rational thought. They thrive purely on the thirst for justice—or what they assume to be justice."

He sighed regretfully. "Karlen is one such victim. By judging his self-control, I'd say he has felt this way for a long time and has learned to hide it. I was around him every day, Eirika, and not once did he reveal his secrets. I'm just disappointed that it had to be him. He showed a lot of promise in his area of expertise, but he had to throw it all away for his want of my death."

Innes glanced around again before crouching beside the still-breathing assassin. "I know assassins never reveal their cause of employment, but I'm willing to make a deal."

"Innes . . . ?"

"Not now, Eirika." He said over his shoulder. He looked down at the gasping, masked man. "If you give me answers, you get to keep your life. What do you say to that?"

The man's mud-brown eyes narrowed. His protest was emphasized by an involuntary grimace perceptible through the mask.

"Ah, but you're too smart for that, aren't you? You know you'll die either way. You wish for a death with more dignity, isn't that right?"

He watching as the man's breaths grew increasingly difficult to draw in. The assassin gripped his dagger tightly and Innes looked down at the movement passively.

"You won't kill me." He said apathetically. "You don't have the strength nor will you have the coin before your last breath passes your lips."

The man managed a sharp nod and nudged the blade toward Innes, a silent plea in his eyes.

Innes accepted the dagger solemnly. "But even the strongest warrior can take only so much pain."

Brown eyes narrowed again.

"Ah, you disagree with me. You are not a warrior but an assassin, a keeper of the shadows with a bloodied stiletto, yes?"

A jerky nod.

"Even so, only so much pain can be borne. Would it displease you for the ender of your pain to be compassionate?"

Only a raspy breath was his answer.

"Very well. Close your eyes and visualize your paradise."

The man did so.

"When your pain ends, perhaps you will be delivered there."

The lines of pain around the man's eyes softened.

"Now go there, for I liberate you."

With a swift movement, the man's faltering heartbeat ceased. His breath eased from his chest with a hollow sound and his body shuddered, then stilled. Innes placed the dagger in the man's hand and pulled the mask up to cover the face entirely. He stood with an expressionless face and gathered Nidhogg. He turned to Eirika to find tears in her eyes. He questioned her silently.

"Who knew that the arrogant, cold, prideful Frelian Prince actually had a heart?" She joked weakly. "Ephraim would be shocked."

"He would have done the same." Innes said quietly. "And in the end, even assassins are human and capable of human emotions, human dreams, and human mistakes. In the end, everyone deserves some mercy."

"Some would disagree with you."

"Then they do not see with their whole heart."

"Some would say you are a fool to pardon murders and criminals."

"When a dying man reaches his last breath, his past deeds do not matter. Some are human enough to regret and they are delivered to a place where they can rest in peace. And some are inhuman enough to take pride in what they have done and they are condemned to a place where they toil without rest. When a dying man reaches his last breath, his past deeds do not matter because his heart is revealed. Only then can judgment be placed. I did what was right, nothing more." Innes said quietly, fitting an arrow into the rest. "There was no compassion, only fair judgment."

"But, you even said—"

His indifferent look silenced her.

She sighed. "Very well, Innes. Have it your way."

He walked off into the darkness, leaving behind the makeshift torches and Eirika.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" She called after him.

"To judge a dying man."

Innes walked calmly, making no attempt to conceal his footsteps. Nidhogg was held loosely in his left hand. He held nothing in his right and he seemed completely at ease. Anyone would think he was enjoying a late night stroll were it not for the way his smoky gray eyes narrowed. His face was without emotion and his mouth was a flat line. Had he been walking down a hall in the castle, any passing servants would scurry on. Innes meant business and light above have mercy on the one his silent anger was focused on.

"Karlen, show yourself. I'll have none of this hiding and creeping business."

He waited patiently for a few moments. When no answer came, he spoke again.

"Karlen, I know you're out there. You didn't hire those assassins to kill me. They were just a distraction to allow you time to prepare. It isn't logical to allow another do what you desire." Innes said calmly, goading him. "No, why should another man see the life fade from my eyes when you want—no, need—to? Why should another man be able to dip his fingers in my freshly split blood when you thirst for it? That's what you want, isn't it Karlen? You want to hear my dying breath, want to see my body quake as it passes my lips. Am I right, Karlen?"

The said man appeared from behind a wooden structure twenty yards away. His face was a twisted mask of anger and bloodlust. In his hands was an axe.

"Shut up!" He shouted. "I'm not that sick! I just want you to pay for all the Frelian lives lost at your hand!"

"Death is expected in war, Karlen. But, please, speak your mind."

"You didn't care, King." He spat out the title as if it were a curse. "You sent those men out to die. They were decoys while you slipped away from the enemy. My cousins, my brothers, my nephews! All of them are dead because you were too busy saving your own damn hide!"

A personal grudge—how typical. Really, can't the villains have a creative motive? It's either world domination or a personal grudge. How very dull.

"Karlen, don't make assumptions when you don't know the half of it." Innes replied coolly, only angering the architect further.

"I don't need to know. You royal types are all alike: selfish, arrogant, and uncaring. Hundreds of good, honest men and women died serving you. And where were you when they needed you? You were running to protect your own head. Bastard!" Karlen was shaking with rage and his knuckles were pasty white around the handle of the axe.

"I'll have you know that my father is very much alive, thank you." Innes retorted. "Also know that I led many of the charges. People die, Karlen. It's a fact of life. War takes hundreds of lives. It's something we all have to come to terms with."

Karlen walked closer as he spoke. "I can accept death. I can accept war. But I can't accept spineless kings who run instead of standing their ground and fighting with his soldiers."

Innes shook his head sadly. "You don't know half of what you're spouting on about. You don't know me. You can't assume you know everything about me." He sighed. "What am I saying? I don't need to justify myself to you. Now, if you just calm down, we can settle this in a peaceful manner."

The axe wielding architect paced closer, shifting the weapon from hand to hand. "No. We settle this now. I'm sure all will be peaceful after I kill you. Frelia will be better off without a coward for a king."

With that said, Karlen lunged forward, swinging his axe. Innes sidestepped the attack smoothly without batting an eye. Karlen wasn't experienced in the art of battle, so his movements gave away everything. Innes knew his next move before he had begun to execute it. With a wild war cry, Karlen swung again and, again, Innes avoided the attack. The curved blade gleamed in the dim moonlight as it descended again. This became a monotonous pattern and the silver haired king grew bored rather quickly. He didn't want to end this just yet. It was likely Karlen would reveal more about himself . . . with the proper prompting.

"Tell me, Karlen, do you know how to use that?" Innes gestured to the axe. "Do you know how to kill?"

"Doesn't matter." The other man growled. "As long as I kill you, everything will be all right."

"If you manage to aim properly, you mean." Innes retorted. "The way this is going, it will take you forever to kill me. You'll tire out before you score a good hit."

With an enraged shout, Karlen swung again. Innes didn't want to admit it, but that swing was a little too close for comfort. He backed up a few steps as Karlen turned toward him. He looked into the man's wild brown eyes and found only rage. The architect was beyond help. His secret desire to kill had driven him mad. Nothing would sway him now. From what Innes could gather, Karlen had not family to support him, to help him preserve his sanity. Innes inwardly despaired. Karlen had a hopeful career as chief architect, but his future was ruined due to his mad yearning to bring "justice" to Frelia. His irrational urge to "right" the "wrongs" of his king had forced him to go to any means possible to kill Innes. He could not be helped.

"Karlen, if you have any sane thought left whatsoever, listen to it and leave." Innes told the man who was slashing wildly at him.

Karlen replied with a savage, guttural noise. Innes only sighed and pulled a bolt from his quiver. He knocked the arrow and tried to distance himself from Karlen. He was forced to turn and run a few yards in order to get a decent shot. Karlen charged at him, eyes wide and bloodshot, mouth twisted into a snarl. Innes raised the bow and drew back the string. He took aim, feeling regret in every movement. As Karlen charged, the Frelian King looked into his eyes one last time and saw nothing to make him pause. Innes steeled himself, pushing every emotion and though to the back of his mind.

He let the arrow fly.

A/N: And now, the news that will make everyone hate me. (stands behind concrete, steel-enforced wall) I will be going on a trip this coming week and will not be able to post on time. I will be away the entire week without internet access. So any wonderful reviews or beautiful PMs will not be answered until much later. You WILL get your chapter, it's just going be a little late. So, please, no flames. I realize I'm being evil, but I'll make it all better . . . possibly on Monday (7.16.07).

See? Aren't you happy with me? Huh? Huh? Now, review and tell me how much you missed me! Cookies for anyone who does!! See ya!!!