Hey y'all!

Thanks so much for reading + reviewing! I'm gonna try and post a chapter every weekend, but we'll see how that works out... otherwise, sorry for the major cliffhanger, don't kill me!!

-WantonChef

Daine woke to the rolling of thunder outside her window. Storm clouds blotted out the horizon while a crackle of lightning illuminated the small room. Brushing a stray hair from her face, Daine couldn't help noting the irony of the dreary weather as she rolled out of bed. It would be so nice to stay inside today, relax in the warmth of the library, perhaps, but she knew the sadness would not leave her alone no matter how much she willed it. Today she had decided to run some errands in the city, and no amount of water was going to stop her, no matter how frigid it might be.

Dressing, Daine reflected on the past few months. Grief still colored everything that she did, and reminders of her former teacher were implanted in even the smallest of actions. Going over some records yesterday, she had caught herself writing her 5's the same way that she had seen Numair do so often, with the last line at the top only as an afterthought. Last week, she had mourned over a pair of midnight-blue earbobs that he used to fancy. Even the remembrance of their confrontation on the stairs now failed to evoke anything in her but shame and regret. The only difference was that she no longer allowed herself to cry, but often when she woke up in the morning she would feel her cheeks streaked with tears, and know that she had unconsciously broken her own resolution.

Toasty in an extra cloak, Daine stopped by the stables to pick up some grain, then followed the wide avenue from the castle into the city of Corus. Because of the storm, most shops were closed but she knew many of the owners well enough to obtain all that she needed. As a last stop, she rewarded herself with a drink at the Dancing Dove.

The bustling warmth was a comforting change to the storm which still raged outside. Greeting the bartender, she ordered an ale and found a small table in the corner. The drink warmed her inside, and she allowed herself a brief moment to forget the newfound drudgery of her life. If only she had not allowed her entire self to revolve around him. Even battling immortals right now would be a nice change, she thought wryly. Soon the glass was empty, and Daine left the warm bar, leaving a few coins on the table. Outside, the rain had not abated, but some mourning doves cowered under the eaves. Taking the grain from her pocket, she allowed them to flutter down and land on her sleeves and shoulders.

Back in the castle, Numair was drawn from his studies by a strong feeling of anxiety. Deep in the core of his power, something was wrong. Hastily, he swept up the mirror which was always by his side and focused all of his thoughts on the one woman who was always foremost in them. Now he concentrated on bringing her image to the glass before him. Soon, her image filled the hand-mirror. As it had so many times over the past few months, just the sight of her brought tears to his eyes and a fist seemed to squeeze tightly at his heart. She was obviously somewhere in Corus, her hood thrown back and her beautiful curls falling freely around her indescribably features. How he needed her, how it hurt him to know she believed he could ever leave her. But the dread in his chest was growing, and the image of Daine remained before him, unaware of any watcher, intent only on the birds which she caressed so gently. What could possibly be wrong? And then he saw it, moving in slow motion, and he shouted out her name, but to no avail, and in just a few horrible seconds, the black fletching of an arrow had sprouted from her left shoulder. A spray of blood and feathers wreathed the grisly flower as more arrows rained down to pelt the birds and the girl they tried to defend. The look on her face made him cry out again, and now the black was joined with the crimson of her own sweet blood, and his most beloved student, his true love, began to topple backward as her eyes glazed over, and still she did not know he watched.

In the marketplace of Corus, a crowd gathered around the body of a young woman. She lay peacefully in a pool of water and blood as the rain continued to fall, and the animals of the city came to cry around her. Joining them was a grown man whose coal-black hair mingled with the falling rain, and whose muddy eyes mirrored the puddles in the street. It was this man who pushed frantically through the growing crowd, and who knelt in the filth beside her. It was he who cradled her head in his lap and gently brushed the damp curls from her face, as he rocked slowly back and forth and sobbed over and over again the name of his young wildmage.