It was late evening when Faolan and Christopher Alaska were ready to start discussing Morgan Derry. Faolan had finished telling Alaska everything that had unfolded in her time with the werewolves a few hours ago. He had listened quietly for the most part, made only a few comments on certain situations. As for Faolan, it had been as easy as telling a story. She'd told enough people that it was no longer the emotional outpouring it had been… or maybe it was distant enough now, months later. It hurt to think that she might already be getting past missing the werewolves.

Then he told her about the other side of the war- the Valdemaren side. He told her how terrifying his Gift was, how powerful it was. Though its power came not from a particular strength in magic on Alaska's side, but on what it employed.

"It is at once terrifying and exhilarating to create an illusion in the minds of fifty soldiers, all charging at you with the intent to kill- and watch them stop as they see monsters crawl out of the ground. I've watched them drop their weapons and run, terrified, as they feel the hot, steaming breath of a demon running them down. To those who fight along side me, Valdemaren soldiers, they see nothing. All they see is their enemy take one look at me and run screaming. I don't even have to lift a finger," Alaska said as he lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling of the tent while Faolan sat on the floor, watching him.

"And now we come to Morgan Derry," Faolan said softly with a yawn.

"Yes," Alaska said, turning his gaze onto Faolan, "The second werewolf Herald. He's not the only one who's been bitten, you know. Just the only Herald. We've had several soldiers come through, ready to kill themselves rather than become werewolves. They wait until the full moon, just to make sure. Then, when fur starts sprouting on their arms, they get a knife across their throat. We don't have a place to keep uncontrollable werewolves. Most bitten kill themselves right away, or have a comrade kill them. Only some play their chances and wait. And we certainly don't want them joining the enemy- not that they want to."

Faolan stared at him, then said, "I suppose we better get to work on Morgan Derry then."

"Agreed," Alaska said, and pulled himself up into a sitting position, leaning forward to face Faolan.

"He has enough control to Change in the open," Faolan ascertained, "Else wise we'd not be here, of course. He has the control of a young werewolf, wild and passionate but not dangerous- quite. He still hasn't passed the line of true control, and until he doesn't there always a chance he could go on a killing rage, succumb to the passionate emotions werewolves are known for and hurt someone… many someones… As I've described to you, the only way the werewolves know to solve this is to force a wild passion through war."

"But that is not necessarily the only way," Alaska nodded, thoughtfully, "Because all we need to do is get him to a breaking point… War is only one way. If I could create an illusion of war, or of some other powerful image or situation tuned to him personally…"

"But it has to be real," Faolan pointed out, "If he knows what he sees is not real… Would it still work?"

"Maybe not," Alaska shrugged, "But maybe it will. You have not seen my illusions in a long while, Faolan… Sometimes the senses overwhelm logic. We may tell Morgan that what he sees is not happening, but when you smell the smoke burning in your nostrils it can be hard to deny it as truth. However… how much does he know about your plan?"

"Not much," Faolan shook her head, "Because there isn't much to it."

"Then we could surprise him," Alaska said, "Start the illusion while he sleeps. He need not know until it's over."

"But what if the illusion doesn't work? Doesn't induce him to gain true control? Then it would just be torture… and might not work again," Faolan pointed out, "Gaining true control is always an emotionally charged experience, it can take weeks to recover… Only the strong in werewolves survive."

"Morgan Derry is a Herald," Alaska pointed out, "I think he'll be able to handle it. We shall just have to be very careful. We'll make up several scenarios for me to create, based on his own personal fears and more general ones. You have Mindspeech, so you can take images from his mind- with his permission of course, and transfer them to me."

Faolan frowned at that- her experience with Dashiell made her very reluctant to delve into other's minds. She didn't want what happened to her to happen to anyone else.

Alaska read what was on her face and said, "Part of mind speech is reading minds, Faolan… You won't need to dig into his mind, just have Morgan visualize his fears or whatever and you can just read that."

Faolan nodded and said, "You're right. That shouldn't be too hard. Still… this makes me feel guilty. In order to give him true control we'll have to manipulate him severely. I'm not sure we have the right to do that."

"It's better than murder, Faolan," Alaska pointed out, "By following the werewolves' path we'd put him in wolf form, toss him out onto the bloodiest part of the front line with all his best buddies beside him, and hope he gets made enough to go into a true killing rage. Most likely this would be because he sees one of his friends murdered- then again, he's a Herald, and used to such stresses, so even that might not be enough. So we have to murder all his comrades, and then put him on the brink of death to induce this rage in him. So he escapes, and gains this true control, so we now know he is trustworthy as a werewolf. However, we've lost all his friends, valuable soldiers and Heralds, and he is totally broken about this… Does this scenario make sense to you? If we're to accept werewolves into Valdemar, we'd have to do that to every single werewolf, and not just the Herald ones. The only other alternative is killing werewolves, which is what we've been doing until Morgan Derry. And he was only saved because you were back from the front, and there was a chance for him."

Faolan nodded and answered, "I know… I know…"

"So let's get our heads together and think then," Alaska said, "I need you to describe every true control scenario you know. We need to work out what the most powerful emotions for true control are, and how to make a neat lead up to them. We don't want to mess around with Morgan Derry, we want to get it right the first time…"

OOO

They did it three days later. Faolan had been careful not to tell Morgan too much of what they were doing- so that when they did it, his feelings would be real because he believed it to be real. She did get his permission though to do whatever she needed, and she hoped he felt that included reading his mind. It started out with Faolan taking Morgan, with the excuse that they were going to do some more practice in werewolf forms before attempting to get him true control, out into the woods where there was a small cave. Alaska remained hidden outside of the cave, and Faolan went inside with Morgan, making sure she was in between him and the door.

They started by sitting down, and Faolan told him that as part of a mental exercise, she wanted him to think of the worst moments in his life, and the things that most powerfully affected him- and know that upon thinking of them, he'd probably turn into a werewolf. She told him to accept that, and let the Change come, but keep thinking about those moments. Morgan only nodded, taking a deep breath, and Faolan felt a moment of guilt- the only reason he believed her was because she was the only one who really knew anything about werewolves. She probably could have said anything, and he'd believe her…

As Morgan Derry settled into a meditative like state, and starting pulling up his memories, Faolan opened her mind, dropping her Shields. She reached out towards Morgan, and visions started moving across her mind, crossed with words and splashes of emotion. She immediately reached out again, and found Christopher Alaska, then channeled the images into his mind. She was too busy being a human channel to think on what she was seeing- she left that to Christopher Alaska. In a few moments Faolan- her eyes still open, saw tears running down Morgan's cheeks and she knew the werewolf inside of him had taken hold. Indeed, she could see his shape changing, and hair was growing thicker on the visible parts of his body. Faolan started the Change within herself as well- as a human there would be no way she could truly defend herself against Morgan, once he crossed that line. But as wolf… she hoped she'd be able to protect herself and keep Morgan from leaving the cave.

Once she was fully a werewolf, she stood up and positioned herself carefully in front of the cave entrance- a tilted jumble of rocks with an opening just wide enough for one human to pass through. The inner cave wasn't much better- it dwindled down to nothing within eight feet and one could just barely stand upon inside, though the floor was roomy, because of the slanting of the rocks.

She watched him, images still flying through her mind, until he suddenly stiffened, and his thoughts changed subtly. Faolan withdrew from both of the minds near her, knowing that this was the beginning. Alaska had started his Illusions.

Morgan, sitting in wolf form, opened his eyes and stared directly at Faolan. His gaze was dark and haunted and Faolan glanced over her shoulder, even though she knew Morgan was looking at one of Alaska's Illusions. She hadn't put her Shields up, and while watching Morgan, she felt a deep, deep sorrow that spoke of an old wound opened up. An image flashed through her mind, and she knew Morgan must think he was still meditating- for what he saw was a burning building, flames licking him into the sky with a devilish hunger. Then she heard it too- the screams of people trapped within those flames, and despair overwhelmed her.

With a shake of her head she pulled back from Morgan- the despair was his, not hers. She let out a low growl and shifted her position, watching Morgan intently. But now the mood had changed, she could sense it in Morgan. He stood up abruptly with a snarl, his eyes moving quickly back and forth in Faolan's direction. There was a flash through her mind, and to her horror she saw herself- still in human form, with an arrow protruding out of her chest, the pointing sticking out near her collarbone, and black fletching sticking out of her back. Morgan leapt- obviously intending to attack her 'attacker', and Faolan braced herself to stop him- but right before he met her, he fell back with a yelp.

When he stood up, he snarled, and his gaze moved back and forth again. He growled, and leapt to his find, snarling and backing up slowly…

"Come to join us... Herald?" a low, dark voice asked, his tone drawling. A few more soldiers crept into the cave- much larger than Faolan recalled it, and formed a half circle around Morgan, blocking him from the entrance. They were dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, all of it old, dirty, and bloodstained. Unwashed faces with leering grins stared down at Morgan.

:No! Never!:Faolan could hear Morgan shouting his head- but those around him didn't hear, because it was only in Morgan's head.

"You're one of us now…" another werewolf sneered, "One of us now…"

There was a high, piercing neigh and Faolan saw outside the cave now, where a shining white Companion, wearing no tack, was rearing up, her hooves slashing at attackers. It was Genevieve. She watched, and saw a slash of red suddenly appear on the Companion's side as one of the many werewolves pulled back a knife that was dripping in blood.

:NO!: Morgan shouted, and now she could only see Genevieve in the background, as Morgan leapt at the werewolves closest to the door.

Faolan met his claws in midair and avoided his jaws as they snapped together centimeters from her face. Her back paws scrabbled on stone as he pushed at her, his teeth darting towards her every moment. Faolan wasn't sure how long she could hold him back until-

Morgan saw the knife coming out of the corner of his eye, but it was too late. The blade sunk deep into his side, and he felt an excruciating pain flood through his body. He fell back from the werewolves, landing onto the stones of the floor, gasping. There was a laugh, and through the legs of the werewolves he saw Genevieve fall, her white coat spattered with blood as a dozen half Changed werewolves crawled over her, hiding her from view. Faolan felt rage spread through him as he leapt to his feet again, heedless of the blood dripping down his side from the wound…

This time Faolan watched as Morgan did battle in midair. He leapt and ducked and slammed into the rocks around him- causing a few real wounds but none that were deep, or serious. He never came near Faolan, but was always leaping towards her. His growls were deep, and Faolan could feel the anger pulsing through him. It was good, and it was a dark anger, built up from the raw emotions he'd been forced through before the Illusions began, then reinforced by the image Alaska had shown in him clarity- the burning house. But he had not yet lost control.

"Stop fighting us!" the last unchanged werewolf growled, "Look around you! Who wears fur but us? Leave your old life behind and be free! Run through the wild woods, take down any prey- any enemy! Take what you want and obey no one's orders!"

Morgan didn't answer in his mind, the words only incited more rage in him, as they were meant to. She got a few more glimpses of the battle he was seeing outside the cave, of swarms of werewolves overwhelming Valdemaren soldiers, of the high neigh of Companions, white and white with Heralds upon their backs. But she didn't pay attention to the images anymore, because her Empathy sensed something else. His anger was reaching a pitch, a high point, where it could go no farther without wrenching itself loose of human confines. Inside Faolan she felt herself saying, No! No farther! You know what happens that far! IT ISN'T HUMAN! But Morgan had no such voice inside him, no such powerful conviction… because he had never crossed that line, let his anger loose, lost his sense of human self. She felt fear within herself, because she had never seen, never felt someone gain true control, and with this outsiders standpoint, from the standpoint of one who had already crossed that line, she knew what was on the other side- and she was afraid. She was afraid of Morgan. Can we really control him, she wondered? Once he crosses, can we really stop him? She was on the brink of telling Alaska to stop, to stop because it was too dangerous but then-

Through glimpses between the werewolves that kept coming through the cave, intent on killing him, there was a certain Herald- one that caught Morgan's eyes, caught his mind. He moved, fought, almost automatically for he could not tear his eyes away from her. Then, moving so fast he didn't even see it leapt, there was a werewolf leaping onto her Companion's saddle, claws scrabbling and jaws closing around her throat. Blood spurted, there was a scream, a high, terrible scream that rose above all the other sounds of battle. Morgan paused, and because of his momentary hesitation he was driven to the ground, to the rocks. Then, because he was still watching the battle, he saw another Herald, a man, screaming, his face wild as he swung his sword around his Companion, running it through werewolves as they clawed and fought around him.

Faolan felt Morgan reach the point of no return and to her surprise she felt him hesitate, as if he knew the line was there. It last no more than a billionth of a second, but it was there. Then he fell. Faolan felt Morgan Derry leave completely, and in his place was a monster. A monster seeing the world through red, a monster that lived on anger, pain, fear, and unhappiness, feeding off of it like a giant leech. Faolan stared at the large black werewolf standing before her, in the little cave that truly had no werewolves but them inside, and realized she was looking at an abomination of human thought and mind. Is this what we can do? This is what we can turn into, if the situation forces it? She knew then, with a shiver of horror, that it was not just a werewolf that could reach this point- but few without the gift- the curse? of werewolf form, of werewolf emotions, were ever able to reach that point. And werewolves reached it regularly. She looked at Morgan Derry, and realized with a second shock that he was feeling absolutely nothing. All emotion had left him because no longer was he feeling anger, he was anger.

He leapt at Faolan, and she felt Alaska's Illusions swirling around him, barely able to keep up with the madness of his mind. Seeing him coming, seeing the glazed look in his eyes, Faolan wanted nothing more than to leapt out of his way and let him run off into the woods, away from her- but towards others. So she stood her ground.

When he met her, the force of his leap pushed them both outside the cave and there they rolled over the ground, clawing and biting each other- Faolan for her life. Suddenly she was thrown to the side and hit the ground hard. She leapt up, bristling, but Morgan had turned away from her. He was standing, staring at the woods, and Faolan had no idea what he was seeing. Then he collapsed, and Faolan looked up to see Genevieve was galloping through the woods, towards them, and she slid to a halt before Morgan. He stared up at her, and Faolan knew he was seeing her for what she actually was. Then he collapsed.

A/N: Whew... I just finished writing that! I hope I shall be able to write chapter seventy-two in time to get it up properly... I have been quite busy lately. I will TRY and get 72 up by Monday but if I can't it may not be up until... August 6th at the earliest. Just giving you a heads up. Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter!
GinaStar- Not submissive as in to others- it was submissive to Faolan, when she first fought to control herself. :)
SwiftShadow- Did you get your Harry Potter book yet? I finished it last Sunday... SO GOOD:) Thanks for reviewing!
Stormy Phoenix- Yeah... hmm that's true. Though no one's in the mood for exuberance.
LightningStorms- I agree. :)
ginalee- Woot! Back to intensity! ;)
balecka92- He's just depressed. :)