Author's Note: My sincere apologies at the length of time between updates. I realize it has been quite a while since the last chapter of this story was added, and I am sorry. My life has been rather hectic lately. Because I wanted to post this chapter as soon as it was written, there may still be a few grammatical errors and minor punctuation flaws. Please, do not send me a list of all mistakes; I will fix them when I get the chance. Again, I apologize for the delay, and thank you for reading.
-Lady Moria

Chapter XXXII: The Apprehension

Things were not going well, Evil-Lyn commented to herself almost idly as she ran.

Behind her, Skeletor's minions thundered on foot and on Terror-Dactals, with Beast-man leading a small hoard of Serpinators in chase. While she probably could have taken the majority of them on and defeated them, Lyn knew that with the might of Skeletor, the serpents of air, and the minions combined, the possibility of her success was minimal. She instead darted from cover to cover, dodging and weaving as bolts of magic and mechanics, as well as occasional blasts of fire narrowly missed her. She knew that if she were to have any hope of defeating them, she would need to reach the Sands of Time where, hopefully, she could escape in the dust storms and locate her mother.

Lady Moria had been increasingly difficult to get in contact with recently, Lyn had to admit as she rested momentarily beneath a hedge. Her mother had been spending nearly all of her time at Grayskull the last few weeks, and while Evil-Lyn respected her mother's right to indulge in a relationship, a not so small amount of resentment lay in her heart in regards to the Sorceress.

A sudden blast of heat above her brought the young Dereskian out of her reverie, and she looked up to see Beast-man smiling satisfactorily down at her from the back of his winged serpent. The Serpinator reared its head back for another blast, and Lyn decided that that was really enough. The ball of fire came crashing down from above, and the white haired woman raised her staff as a burning sphere of violet light erupted from the ball on the end of her weapon, speeding up towards the fire and colliding with it in a massive explosion of steam.

As the vapor spread quickly into the air around them, Lyn could not resist a smirk at her tactic. A water-based spell used to cancel out a blast of fire, thus resulting in eruption of a cover of steam to which she was immune. Perfect. Flawless. Exactly the sort of thing her mother would do. At that thought, Evil-Lyn paused. Moria would have realized that she was in peril by now. Why had she not appeared?

Tri-klops sent a series of bolts from his eye at her the next moment, and so she could dwell on the thought no further. She ducked and rolled along the sand-strewn ground, narrowly escaping the blasts before rising and continuing to run. The Sands of Time were not far now, and Lyn hid a smile. She was going to make it.

The familiar winds of the sandy desert before her blew through her short-cropped hair as she drew nearer. This was good, she realized, for the strong winds would make it difficult for her flying attackers to follow her. Indeed, she noticed as she glanced over her shoulder that Skeletor's forces appeared to have ceased pursuing her.

"Odd," she murmured aloud, heading straight into the whirling sands of what was once the Dereskian kingdom.

She found out why they had ceased their chase soon enough. A large green and yellow tiger bearing an all-too-familiar looking man came galloping towards her out of the sand. Lyn leapt into the air and flipped over the head of the blonde-haired behemoth at the last minute, misjudging her footing and stumbling onto one knee.

"He-man," she growled angrily, a look of disgust falling over her features as several other of the 'Masters' appeared around him on their flying machines.

Man-at-Arms stepped forward, his facemask raised and brandishing his mace on the defensive. "Evil-Lyn, you are under arrest for the crime of attempted murder and conspiring against the Eternian crown. Will you come quietly or do you intend to resist?"

Moria's daughter glared at him condescendingly. "Are you really so stupid that you even need to ask that?" she asked, her eyes shining like fire. "Of course I intend to resist."

Duncan bristled angrily and turned to the other Masters. He-man nodded once, and unsheathed his sword, pointing it at the young Dereskian.

"This is your last chance, Evil-lyn," He-man said softly, his voice not terribly unkind. "For the sake of all, please surrender quietly and you will not be harmed."

Lyn grimaced and spat in his general direction. "Forgive me if I don't trust that ill-placed sentiment, He-man," she said coldly. "Eternia's record with how you've treated my people is less than impeccable."

He-man dismounted from Battlecat, looking at the other Masters and silently telling them to stay where they were as he slowly approached their quarry. Lyn stood her ground but raised her staff as he moved within ten paces of her. He stopped advancing and spoke in a civil manner.

"That was a long time ago," he stated calmly. "Our ways are more peaceful now. If you choose to fight us, circumstances will not be in your favor. You're vastly outnumbered, and we have superior weapons. If you come with us quietly we will not harm you. You shall have a fair trial and be treated as any other felon, Eternian or not."

For a moment, Evil-Lyn was silent, seeming to consider his offer. Finally she spoke, her words in a chillingly icy tone that reminded all present of the unshakeable sangfroid that her mother had perfected. "You may have more allies than I. You may have more fighters than I. You may even have more sophisticated weapons than I. But there is one thing I posses that you do not have, nor could you ever."

A small smile appeared on her face as the barest hint of a chuckle escaped her lips. She looked from one Master to the other before her gaze once more settled on He-man. "Your home is lovely indeed, in your kingdom of gleaming towers and shining spires of gold. But we are far from that place, in the midst of swirling sands and ancient ruins. Therefore the strongest advantage that I have over you is not weapon or numbers, but the very terrain itself!" Her voice grew to booming on the last two words, and as she finished speaking she raised her hand and fired a great ball of violet light from it, which exploded and sent thick clouds of sand and dust into the air, making it impossible to see.

In the confusion that followed, Lyn's words echoed in the minds of the Masters as they realized their truth. When at last the great cloud of dust had dispersed due to the ever-present wind, the young Dereskian was nowhere in sight.

"Damn it!" Man-at-Arms growled in frustration, a snarl on his face that had been there frequently the last few months. "How can we capture her if we can't even see through this infernal sand?!"

He-man placed his large hand upon his mustachioed mentor's shoulder. "It is a problem, yes. But we can overcome it, as we have so many others, if we stay calm and work together." He paused, looking at the other Masters as they grumbled in grudging agreement. "Mecaneck," he said, turning to the mechanical warrior. "Can you see above the sand and find Evil-Lyn?"

An attempt and a curse afterwards, the metal-necked warrior answered gloomily. "No good, He-man. All this sand is clogging my gears. I can't move my neck as much as a foot." His tone was both resentful and angry, both at the circumstances and Evil-Lyn. This news was met with an angry grumble from the collected group.

Ram-man joined in the conversation with a bitter growl. "How are we supposed to capture Evil-Lyn in a desert?! I can even see beyond my helmet!"

"I know that things seem bad," He-man said calmly, rationally, raising his hands to placate his friends. "And perhaps it was unwise to seek out our foe in her own habitat, but we have fought in many kinds of terrain under very stressful circumstances and come out triumphant before. If we are to succeed in this area, we need to be analyzing the surrounding grounds to find Evil-Lyn, not complaining amongst ourselves."

Man-at-Arms nodded in agreement. "You're right, of course. Arguing and muttering will solve nothing. Let's fan out and try to find out where the little bitch went."

They nodded and began to fan out, making sure to stay within visible range of at least one other Master. When he had gotten far enough from the larger group so as not to be heard, Mecaneck grumbled irritably beneath his breath. "That's all well and fine, but it still doesn't answer how we're supposed to fight Evil-Lyn in all this sand."

"Here's a hint," came a distinctly feminine voice from below him. The Masters whirled and looked around in confusion, having all heard the voice, as the young Dereskian burst up from the sand below their feet. "Stop talking so much," she advised calmly, even as she leapt up and kicked Mecaneck in the chest, causing him to fly backwards. Lyn landed nimbly on her feet, looking at the stunned Masters and smiling secretively. "Talking reveals your position to your enemies," she added as an afterthought, and then vanished before their eyes into the swirling sands.

…………..

Deep within the bowels of Castle Grayskull, two women, both over the age of a thousand years, viewed the goings on with supreme interest. The younger of the two women turned slowly to face her companion. "Exactly how much longer do you intend upon letting this go on before interfering?" she asked quietly of the white-haired woman, her lover.

"I was actually hoping it wouldn't come to that, Teelina," the Ancient Dereskian said in reply, watching the viewing screen intently as her only child battled He-man and his friends. "Lyn is of an age to take care of herself, and needs to learn to utilize the Magicks I have taught her without my direct involvement."

The Sorceress looked at the elder woman with a furrowed brow and a mildly shocked look. "And what of this vision you seem so desperate to keep from occurring? Did it not involve Evil-Lyn?"

Lady Moria Vadorian smiled faintly at her lover and caressed the redhead's cheek gently. "I never said I wasn't going, dear. I will remain invisible, and just watch. If I am needed to intervene, I shall, but I believe my daughter to be capable of handling this on her own."

The redhead nodded slowly, as if accepting that this was Moria's decision, and looked as if she wanted to say something, but did not, and instead turned back to look at the screen and the battle, watching as the Masters began to use Man-E-Faces robot scanners to search for Evil-Lyn.

"Teelina," her lover began slowly, placing her pale hand upon the younger woman's shoulder. Slowly, green eyes looked up and locked with amethyst as Moria continued. "…No matter what you see in that screen… no matter what happens within those sands… it is imperative that you do not interfere. I am asking you not to leave Grayskull for any reason whatsoever. That includes the possibility that I might be injured…. Even if I, or anyone, for that matter, seem to be in peril you must not leave this castle. …Do you understand?"

Though confusion lay within the soft green eyes, their owner nodded slowly, even as the sound of sword meeting staff echoed out from the screen. "…I understand, Moria."

"Good," her lover murmured softly. With one last caress to Teelina's cheek, she brought her lips tenderly down upon those of the Sorceress, lingering for a long moment, and then was gone.

Now alone in the large and empty castle that was her home, Teelina slowly turned back to the viewing screen, knowing that somewhere amidst the whirling clouds of dust stood the most remarkable woman she had ever known, one who could control almost as much power as the Elders and Gods combined. "Moria…" she whispered quietly, closing her eyes and sighing softly. "…Please… be careful."

…………

Far beyond that realm of gray walls and smoothed stones, Lady Moria slipped invisibly through the coarse and grainy sands of what had been her kingdom. Her daughter was doing well against her multitude of foes, she noted, watching silently as Evil-Lyn used her staff to strike at the Masters like lightning, unpredictably and quickly, before retreating. At this point in the battle, nearly all pf the Eternian warriors had received bruises or gashes from her child's attacks, and this made the elder Dereskian smile slightly.

Even so, there was a fair amount of worry in Moria's disposition. Though Lyn may have superior knowledge of the battlefield, the Masters far outnumbered her. And the Ancient Queen recalled all too well how it had been superior numbers that had won the War of Three Days. She was torn between her decision to let her daughter do this on her own or to jump in and assist Lyn. The battle that occurred amidst the sands was only a scuffle compared to the one that raged in her mind.

The sound of sword crashing against staff brought the war in the Ancient woman's mind to a screeching halt. Her eyes snapped open and stayed riveted upon the form of her child. Lyn had let a snarl fall over her face as again sword met staff, battling solely against He-man. The other Masters were gathered around them in a circle, watching as Moria did. This was a battle of champions then, the white-haired woman realized. She inwardly cursed herself as she took a few tentative steps towards the battling circle. How stupid of her to be so lost in her own thoughts that she had not even noticed the challenge. She now watched her child's movements with rapt attention, placing herself just outside of the circle of her enemies.

Evil-Lyn lunged forward, using her staff as a feint to block he-man's subsequent counterattack. Lyn leapt into the air, and a blinding flash of white light filled the sky, breaking through the constant clouds of sand. With a curt shout, the young Dereskian's eyes flashed pupil-less in wordless spellcasting, finally firing blast upon blast of violet fire at the blonde warrior. Given the circumstances, He-man did rather well against them, deflecting and dodging most of the blasts, escaping with a nasty burn across the shoulder.

Both panting and sweaty from the attack, Moria's daughter let herself slide back to the ground, gripping her staff defensively as she quickly regained her breath. The blonde leveled his sword at his opponent, two-handedly, taking a longer time for his breathing to even out as he held his ground for the next attack. With Lyn still obviously a little tired, Moria had to force herself to stay out of the fight. She looked around at the other Masters, and noticed she was not the only one eager to join in the battle. All of the Eternians seemed very willing to step in the minute He-man gave the word. He would never allow it, of course, Moria thought with a small smile. At least he had morals, unlike his ancestors.

He-man took the offense, and with a somewhat barbaric grunt, lunged at Moria's daughter. Using his momentum from the charge to fuel his attack, he lowered his sword, aiming it for his opponent's midsection.

At the last second, Lyn raised her staff in defense, but the sheer force behind the blonde behemoth's attack sent the weapon tumbling out of her grasp, lost somewhere within the swirling sands around them. Evil-Lyn's eyes followed her staff, trying to discern where it had landed. As she was distracted, He-man saw his opportunity and lunged again, bringing his mighty weapon in a sweeping blow toward the white-haired girls neck.

From the sidelines, the Masters readied themselves for victory, while Moria's eyes widened as she waited until the last possible moment, hoping against hope that she would not have to intervene, but very prepared to.

As it was, neither party on the sidelines got what they expected. The blade stopped its movement a hair before reaching Lyn's neck, pricking her skin ever so slightly. She turned her head slowly, almost casually, her short hair fluttering in the ever-present wind.

Her expression was unreadable, her eyes like vapid pools, threatening to overwhelm He-man unto the point that he was forced to look away from them.

"You are beaten, Evil-Lyn," he said somewhat matter-of-factly. "Give up quietly, and no harm will come to you. You have no weapon," he couldn't help but point out. "Any further attempts at resistance are useless. Don't make me kill you," he ended, his sword pressing a little more deeply against the pale throat as he made a threat he knew he could never actually fulfill.

Lyn knew it too. A slow smirk slid over her features as she seemingly ignored the blade below her chin. She chuckled softly, her violet eyes beginning to swirl ever so slightly. "Simple-minded fool," she said chillingly in a tone that reminded everyone present of her mother. "Do you honestly think I require a weapon to destroy you?" She grinned, her eyes blazing like violet fire as she raised her hands and forcibly pushed the blonde away, simultaneously firing a majick ball from only her fingertips.

The ball crashed directly into He-man's stomach, expanding as it hit and using such momentum that the mightiest of Eternia's heroes was thrown backwards into the air with a groan of surprise and pain. He landed in a heap of flesh, skidding to a halt into the scratching sands. The majick ball, still not finished with its work, imploded on his chest, turning formerly bronze skin into a mass of charred flesh. He-man groaned loudly in pain, and was then still.

For a moment, the entire surrounding area, even the ever-swirling sands, was motionless. Then, with a strangled cry from Man-at-Arms, the unexpected silence was broken. Duncan raised his mace into the air, and with a look to the other Masters, he gave the order. "Charge!"

Lyn whirled around from looking at the only stunned, and not killed, He-man, and faced her opponents as they neared. She smiled at their approach, and her eyes grew pupil-less as purple lightning crackled from her fingertips. The Masters ran at her at full speed, Duncan's eyes blazing in his fury as he leveled his mace and struck at the head of Moria's child.

She caught the weapon in mid-strike, the lightning at her fingers shooting down the length of the handle. Enraged, Duncan dropped the weapon before he could be harmed. Before Lyn could remedy that, several blasts from various other Masters' weapons distracted her attention as they impacted on her skin.

With a howl of pain, Lyn whirled around, jumping up into the air in mixed pain and fury. An enormous explosion of energy fired from her form, lighting the whole area in violet light and fire as she erupted with anger, firing bolt and blast upon blast in the general directions of her foes.

The Masters, shocked at such a massive display of power from a woman they had always associated with second-rate magic, were motionless for a moment. Then the continuing increase of power of bolts forced them to seek cover so as to avoid burning. Lyn's furious attack gradually slowed, and then sputtered out as quickly as it had begun. Exhausted from such a massive outburst, she practically fell to the ground, panting with exertion, her body slick with sweat. Her legs crumpled beneath her and she did fall, supporting herself with weak arms as she struggled to regain her footing and continue to fight.

Duncan, seeing her weakness, rallied the other Masters to him for a final strike. Gathering in a circle around the utterly spent woman, each hero of Eternia leveled his weapon and prepared for the killing blow.

Panting and fragile, Lyn realized now, when she could see her end staring down at her from her enemies' weapons, that her mother had been right all along. Anger in battle, which Skeletor had always said was an incentive, was really a fatal flaw. Determined to meet her end with honor, the young Dereskian raised her eyes and set her face into a glare.

Duncan sighed softly. He would have preferred that this battle not end in a cold-blooded killing, but he knew that no child of Moria Vadorian's would ever surrender. "Fire," he ordered, and all around, weapons powered up with blue light.

Their shots never landed, of course. A giant sphere of light surrounded the form of Lyn, expanding and moving outwards at a great speed. It impacted on the circle of Master's throwing them and their distempered weapons backwards. The blasters fired and their shots went harmlessly into the sands.

Only then, when all threat to Lyn was gone, the sphere of amethyst light receded back to its castor. She appeared then, in all her glory, behind the kneeling form of her child, massive wings spreading out from behind her back, one black, one white.

"Morämé…." The younger Dereskian whispered as the white-haired queen gently caressed her daughter's cheek. "...What took you so long?" she asked softly, smiling a little.

Moria Vadorian smiled in return, lightly toying with the short locks of Lyn's hair. "My apologies, Moritënia," the Ancient woman said softly, holding her child in the way that only a mother can. "I was actually hoping you wouldn't need me. You seemed to be doing quite well on your own."

A slight chuckle escaped from the younger woman, and she sighed a little, looking around at the fallen forms of the Masters. "What did you do to them?" she asked her mother, noticing that none of their opponents seemed to be moving.

Almost absently, Moria looked around at the fallen forms, as if seeing them for the first time. "A temporary stunning spell. Nothing more. It will wear off in an hour or so. They'll live."

"Which is more than I can say fro you, your Highness," came an angry and commanding tone from behind them.

Lyn turned toward the voice, gasping softly at the identity of the person. Moria herself, however, did not need to turn. She already knew who was there. "Hello, Randor," she intoned darkly, her wings sliding once more into her back.

The King of Eternia, for it was he, did not answer. His eyes lowered as he grasped his sword defensively. Slowly, the Ancient Queen of the Dereskígía turned towards him. Her two katana-like weapons appeared in her hands as she faced her opponent.

The younger woman backed away, sensing that this would be a battle of the chieftains; similar to the one she had previously engaged in with He-man.

Moria took a defensive stance, leaving no portion of her body unprotected as Randor did the same. They remained still for a moment, each waiting for the other to make the first move and open his or herself to attack.

After a while, Randor relented and charged, leveling his weapon towards the Dereskian. Moria leapt into the air, high above his head and out of the reach of his weapon. Though as Randor soon discovered, he was not out of reach of hers. She brought her swords down in one swoop, aiming at his head as he passed beneath her.

She missed, but she had anticipated that, and landed nimbly on her feet, turning slowly back towards her opponent.

So the battle continued for a long while, both royals meeting each other thrust for thrust, parry for parry. Moria, having a small advantage, was able to get in a few more strikes than Eternia's King. Still, what Randor lacked in attack, he made up for in defense, and after a time, the Dereskian was forced to admit that he was worthy of fighting her. So she told him.

Randor did not reply, but then, she had one of her swords to neck at the time, so it was understandable. He dodged out of the way, and their battle continued on to the point that both were sweaty and covered in sand from the desert around them.

In the end, Eternia's ruler began to falter, his body tiring at a faster rate than did Moria's. He began to make minute mistakes, thrusting when he should have parried and vice versa. Eventually, it cost him the fight. His foot slipped on the shifting sands, and he lost his footing. The flash of a silver blade, and his weapon flew from his hand, leaving him defenseless and fallen upon the ground.

The Dereskian's blade pricked him at the throat as he looked up at her, defiant to the last. "Truly," Moria said softly, her tone quiet and strained from battle. "You are not your ancestor."

It was the highest compliment she could ever pay to him.

Randor, breathing heavily from exertion, looked up into the eyes of the Dereskian Queen. Since he was a very young child, he had been told, over and over, that the woman who stood before him was the purest form of evil. Gazing into those whirling amethyst pools, he began to doubt those stories for the first time in his life.

"Well played, your highness" came an all too familiar voice from behind them. "But not good enough."

Moria turned her head quickly in the direction of the voice, letting her defeated adversary up as her eyes widened into angry pools at the sight before her.

Man-at-Arms, pale and sweating at the strain it had taken to rouse himself from Moria's stunning spell, stood behind them, his arm blaster at the temple of the Queen's only weakness. Evil-Lyn struggled weakly in the grasp of the king's advisor, trying, unsuccessfully, to get away from the mustached man. Duncan grinned proudly at the horrified look on the Ancient Dereskian's face. "You've led our people in a very merry chase over the centuries, your majesty," he gloated, taunting her with the title that his people had rendered obsolete. "But the game is over now. Turn yourself over to Eternian Justice, and your daughter will go unharmed. Otherwise…" he trailed off, letting Moria use her imagination.

With an angry snarl, Moria Vadorian's eyes flashed wildly, dropping her swords as her hands rose in spell casting. Before she could let her attack fly, however, she felt the slight prick of the blade of a sword at her throat.

Slowly lowering her hands, Moria glanced twin pools of fire at Randor, who kept his sword tight at the edge of her neck. "Forgive me, your highness," he said, his tone not apologetic at all. "But I must insist that you accompany us to be tried for your crimes."

Ever so slowly, the fire in Moria's eyes diminished, and she looked away from both her opponents, into the eyes of her child. "You're arresting me," she more stated than questioned, looking only at her daughter. "But if I agree, and go with you," Moria continued, her tone forlorn and melancholy, "what is to stop you from harming my child anyway?"

"My solemn oath that we will not hurt her," answered Randor, his blade easing up only a little, not wanting to accidentally cause blood to slide down Moria's alabaster throat. His free hand grabbed her slim wrists and twisted them painfully behind her back.

The Ancient Queen chuckled a little then, the action causing the sword to dig in a little deeper, but not caring. "And you expect the oath of an Eternian to matter to me?" she laughed, glancing over at Mindor's descendant. "Simply because I say you are not Mindor does not mean I automatically trust you, Randor." She practically spit the names out, snarling at the both the ancestor and the current King. "Preventing me from acting does not exactly add to your credibility, by the way," she growled, twisting her wrists in his grasp, knowing that she could break free, but the corresponding energy she would have to expend could injure her child. She would not risk it, and both Randor and Duncan knew it.

"Evil-Lyn will not be harmed, your Majesty," Man-at-Arms stated, controlling the younger Dereskian as she futilely attempted to free herself. "As long as you cooperate." He raised his blaster even closer to Lyn's head, clearly stating the alternative without having to say a word.

Moria seemed to hesitate, her gaze going back to rest upon her child. Morämé, came Lyn's mind-voice, weak but still understandable. Don't agree. They'll do anything just to get you to their 'courts'. What they term a 'trial' would not be fair to you, and they would have you executed no matter what you say.

Moritënia, the Ancient woman answered her child softly, her eyes smiling. Do you truly think I'm not aware of that? I know very well what the Eternians intend to do to me if I agree and go with them. She twisted her wrists again, stalling for time as she contemplated on what to do. Moria closed her eyes as the few options raged for dominance within her mind.

They were then silenced by a voice not her own, a memory of Someone greater even than she. And when it comes that you do need Me, simply breathe out My name, and I will hear.

Eläni, Moria remembered, not speaking the name aloud just yet. She chuckled softly, causing worry to appear upon Randor's face as he held the Ancient woman. "Release my daughter, Duncan," the Ancient woman said softly, opening her eyes and looking directly into those of Man-at-Arms.

Her tone was so strong, her gaze so commanding, that the King's advisor didn't even pause to think of exactly whom it was who spoke to him. The Ancient Queen's miniscule enchantment washed over him, and he did as ordered, pulling himself away from the young Dereskian and taking a few steps back.

Lyn fell forward, still a little weak as her eyes flashed up in puzzlement, questioning her mother silently. Randor looked at her and at his friend, unsure whether to release Moria to recapture Evil-Lyn or to keep tight hold of Moria. Deciding that if the elder woman were let go of, it would not be auspicious for either of the Eternians, he kept hold of the Ancient Queen.

Moria's child looked confusedly from the still spellbound Man-at-Arms to her mother, debating whether her mother wanted her to help her. Her eyes locked once more the elder woman's as the Queen's mind-voice growled at her.

Get out of here, Moritënia! she ordered. That spell won't last forever, and I can't free myself until you've gone! GO! A strong breeze fluttered up, and later, Lyn would swear that her mother had caused it. The young woman took advantage of the swirling sands that once again surrounded them, and vanished in their clouds of dust.

Once her child was out of sight, Lady Moria breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Her eyes fluttered closed and her tensed body relaxed in Randor's grasp. Almost as if on cue, Man-at-Arms came out of his stupor and cursed himself, and then Moria, looking out into the sands for some sign of Evil-Lyn.

"Let her go, Duncan!" Randor called over the sounds of the wind. "Her mother is the only one we need, and she won't be going anywhere," he stated, a pair of magic-restricting manacles in his hand as he readied to place them on his captive.

Moria shifted her shoulders and turned to look at the Eternian King. "Those won't be necessary," she whispered softly, so quietly that Randor had to strain to hear her. "You can let me go," the Dereskian continued. "You gave your oath that my child would go free. All I did was ensure that was so. Binding me is unnecessary."

Her next words brought both relief and apprehension. And, far away in a Castle made of stone, watching over the scene, the Sorceress cried out in exclamation as Moria's sentence escaped her pale lips.

"I surrender."