A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry about the long wait, but here is the continuation of my story. I hope to finish by next week since I am suddenly on a roll. Please enjoy, and thank you so much for your praise.

A giant house the color of a passing man's hair, gray tinged with white streaks from the sun, sat upon the hill overlooking the great Port Legann. The journey lasted several days, and the Mage, Sir Neal, and Weiryn's Daughter accompanied Irnai to where the she knew the king was staying. They rode horses up the hill, but paused half way to give the horses a breath before the last steep climb.

The evening was starting, the sun rested upon the sea, his beautiful royal robes spread across the water and town as if giving his last impression and influence on the world before disappearing into darkness. His crown of golden light remained a little longer after the sun sank into the ocean, but soon darkness reigned. Tiny stars appeared after the final sunray faded, but it was not enough to light the path to the giant house. If I could stop the sun in the sky, thought Irnai, but she did not complete her thought. Confusion over what to say to the Man with Many Names consumed her so strongly that she fell asleep and did not wake until they arrived.

"Irnai," the familiar and haunting voice whispered to her as she lay in the place between dreams. "Trust me, my child."

She left the child cold and shaking in the morning. "I must see the Man with Many Names!" she gasped. At the very least she could be free of one demon in the shape of a blind goddess.

She dressed quickly and moved blindly through the hallways, clutching the arm of her doll, Bionca, for comfort. She possessed no knowledge of where she was within the house, or where she could find the king. She paused between corridors in indecision, and held her doll closer as the chill of the cold stone floor crept up through her bare feet. The doll was her only real companion through the years of traveling to deliver prophecies. It was ragged and old and looked like it would not survive much longer from the way the child handled the doll, but to Irnai, the doll was the most beautiful object she would ever lay eyes on, with Sight or without.

"Irnai!" a voice echoed down the hallway. It reminded her of sound traveling through a cave, bouncing off walls and frightening the occupants within. "Irnai, where are running off to? We've been looking all over for you."

"Sir Neal!" she said, and the sight of him put a sincere smile to her lips. He was a good man. "I'm off to see the Man with Many Names."

"That's all and well, dear, but you're going the wrong way." He raised his eyebrows at her bare feet. "And what became of your shoes?" She shrugged and he moved closer to take her hand. "My dear, you'll freeze to death in that attire. Come on, let's go find your shoes and perhaps a coat."

Negotiations were made for a coat to wear in the drafty house, and soon Irnai was directed to a room with a large table and chairs surrounding it.

"Irnai," a man with a beard and blue eyes stood and addressed her as she came in. He was tall and proud and imperial, everything a king of his stature should be and more.

"The Man with Many Names," she whispered. She had seen him so many times in her dreams the last few days that she could recognize his countenance anywhere.

"That is what she calls you, Jon," the Mage informed the king. He also stood when Irnai arrived, and he smiled at the girl with familiarity. "Do you have any idea why? I could only come up with two names, the Tortallan King and the Voice of the Tribes."

"The Night One," he replied. "I am called the Night One by the Bazhir tribes because of my defeat of the Ysandir with Alanna." He glanced at the child curiously.

"I, I have a message for you. From the Great Mother Goddess. She wishes to see you receive this message, and to do what it says."

The king moved forward to take a seat next to the girl. He poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher and glasses left on the table by the servants. "Yes, I'm listening."

Overhead Gainel watched and Shakith listened to the meeting in cool silence and disapproval. For Gainel, it was of his sister's insistent interference in this performance; for Shakith, it was of Irnai's lack of control and wisdom to manipulate this prophecy on her behalf.

"Well, Man with Many Names, you… it's hard for me, but you know this already—" she mumbled something incoherent and Gainel felt sympathy for the child who was unwillingly placed in the difficult position of foretelling a man's death. Tears dripped down her pale cheeks and she wiped them away uselessly before more replaced them.

The concern was obvious in the King's eyes. "It's alright, Irnai, just tell me what you saw. Here, would you like something to drink first? Some water perhaps?" He sent a meaningful glance at Numair who hurriedly filled a glass with the pitcher and set it a little forcefully on the table in front of the child.

Irnai gulped painfully on the water but only managed to spill most of it on her dress. She stared at him with her wide green innocent eyes and whispered as seriously as she could. "You're going to die. You know how. But, but, there's a way out of it, to make your life longer, see, it's really simple just you have to find someone, anyone, and—"

"She is ruining everything, brother, I've got to repress her now before it's too late." Gainel watched Shakith remove her soul from her divine body to possess that of the frail mortal Irnai. The child shook violently like prey caught in the mouth of a vicious dog determined to see its death. The King stood up and tripped over his chair as he backed away. It was more violent than any other god taking over a mortal's body or of Shakith's prior experience, but the haste was what nearly killed the child.

The voice that came out of the small child's mouth once the quaking had ceased was both chillingly beautiful and painfully sweet.

"Long sleep comes

And thou canst not escape it

Nor fight its grasp.

Worship in blood and cowardice

For land and life,

Man thrice named.

Prolong the life thus set to end

By the desert land,

Worship in the time-forgotten way

To keep your gods-given power a little longer,

Man thrice named."

The child gave one violent shudder before collapsing in her chair.

Shakith returned next to Gainel in their place in the Realm of the Gods. "You missed an important guest," Gainel said simply.

"Did I indeed, brother?"

"Yes, a certain Black God. He is now well on his way to tell Mithros and the Goddess of your interference. You will lose Irnai at the very least."

Her bright red lips parted in surprise and she began to brighten with anger. The child she was listening to and following so carefully before was now left ignored by her. Gainel watched as Sir Neal tried to restore her still heartbeat. "Why did you not inform me of his appearance?"

"You seemed to be busy elsewhere. Good day, sister, there seems to be a meeting of the gods that I must attend that you were not invited to." He looked at her with pity before shifting into the chaos world and outside her presence. He did not miss her scream of outrage.