Jaythen leaned against a post that was meant to support the horizontal beams of a crude wooden fence. He stared down a path that was smaller and veered off the main road. The fence, to him, indicated that there was something nearby, an inn, a home, someplace that would have shelter and perhaps food.

His loaf of bread had run out only a few days after Avalyn had left—apparently one loaf wouldn't last long to an eighteen year old male no matter how consciously he rationed it. He only found some apple trees along the way afterwards—which could have been a slight stroke of good luck. Still, he was growing weak from the general lack of food.

The most bewildering part of his journey was that he still had not come across an inn. He thought he was traveling on the northern road—the same road merchants used to trade—and those roads most certainly had inns. But no, he was forced to sleep in the grass every night and awake slightly itchy every morning.

He had not seen a trace of Avalyn since she had stormed off in a dragon-fury nearly two weeks prior. He was forced to trudge along the road in solitude—alone with nothing but thoughts of the past. He knew he dwelled too much on things he could not change. He had to face his future someday, no matter how unexpected or dangerous it would be. He sighed, Avalyn had indirectly called him cowardly, dependant, and claimed his confidence was nonexistent—though he wanted to deny it—he knew it was true and he loathed it.

What was bravery though? Stupidly rushing out to kill the scariest monster you could find? Halden was brave but was wretched, and Jaythen did not want to be anything like his foul cousin.

He held his shoulder—the pain from the wolf bite was nearly gone, and only ached when he carried too much weight on it for a long period of time.

It would turn to April soon, and rain showers would increase. They were already common; he had been in two storms on his way home. He would wear the quilt over himself and sit off the side of the road in order not to end up knee-deep in mud. Rain would soak into the material and render the cover soggy by the end. To get it dry again he would ring the water out until it was less heavy, then hold it over his head and run down a stretch of the road so the air would caress the moisture from the fabric.

There were hardly any trees, just fields and meadows on small rolling hills around him. He knew that when he saw a hint of forest he would be nearer to Wendbury.

He had stopped for long enough—what was it to be then? Continue on the main road still in hopes to find an inn or try to find food that might not even exist down the smaller one? He adjusted the knapsack strap to his good shoulder and took a breath before following the smaller one—his stomach was in charge now. It had turned into such a ravenous beast that he would welcome a mutilated elk carcass at his feet.

The fence continued along the side of the smaller path. The dirt looked as though carts had been pulled through it at one point. The road was at least wide enough for a carriage as opposed to the earlier one that seemed large enough for two. God, a carriage would have been much faster, even just a stallion at that, he groaned inwardly, or a dragon to fly me.

He craned his head back and watched a few crows fly overhead 'kaw'-ing. The sky was a hazy blue, something he wouldn't call clear. The clouds were thin and gray, leading into a billowing conglomeration of darker ones. He knew he was heading into another storm.

He hadn't saw or dreamt of the white witch since the night after Avalyn had departed from him. It was such an odd, horrifying dream. That woman, she slightly haunted his thoughts—always in the back of his mind—he wondering if she really had commanded that he harm the girl with green eyes. Yet, it didn't connect with the witch's statement about keeping Avalyn alive. She had said Avalyn was special and Jaythen couldn't disagree—but had a feeling the woman in white's 'special' was far different from what he thought of.

Avalyn was extraordinary not only because she had the ability to change dragon—but because of all her talents—her singing voice, her wit, her memory, her skill, her knowledge, her bravery. Not to mention her distinctive, green, green, eyes that gave away all of her emotions in one glance.

If Jaythen could even possess a fraction of what Avalyn was inside, then he would be a better person.

It seemed as though she had been with him for years, for all the time he had spent with her—nearly every day for the past month but now that she was gone—he actually missed her horribly. He missed having her to talk with.

Shadow fell across him, and it started to sprinkle moisture then. He pulled out the quilt and wrapped it around his shoulders and over his head as he would a cloak. His old cloak he had tossed away in Scharberlutes because it was so torn and dirty from his tussle with his cousin.

He went off the road and hopped the fence, so not to step in the mud sure to form. Low rumbles of thunder were heard echoing across the sky—it was far away but was coming at him. He was stepping into the storm face on.

The air was colder, and the wind picked up and blew at him so had to fight it. He turned a corner in the path and saw a shelter not far along—a barn of sorts.

Thank God, he sighed because the rain had then started pouring hard. He picked up his pace as he crossed the field.

After a few steps he had to halt and strain to listen—there was a faint voice calling out from behind him. He turned around to catch a glance of whom it was but it was hard to see through all the rain. Eventually, he could make out a human figure—female. She was shouting something but the sound of raindrops pelting the ground around them resounded in his ears and obscured it. Water trickled off of his hair and into his face, so he had to constantly wipe at it.

"Jaythen!" it was a clear sound finally, and his whole body tensed with disbelief.

She picked up her skirts and hopped through the wet field grass toward him.

He could only stand there as she approached and stood before him. She didn't seem angry anymore—just stared at him as if he were mad. Perhaps he really was because he shed off the soggy quilt and without a word he embraced her, squeezing her tightly against him. They stood like so as rain pelted upon them.

"Please don't ever leave me like that again."

She didn't respond that she would or wouldn't, but slowly pulled away after a few moments, "I see you haven't fared well in my absence?"

He was suddenly indignant, "Where have you been for the past two weeks?! Were you hurt!? How did you afford new clothes? Where—"she pressed her finger to his lips to shush him.

"I merely went hunting, and then I went to Griswold—"

"You went to Griswold? Did you find—?" he stopped himself at seeing her melancholy expression which was answer enough. Her golden hair was a dull blonde color as the rain slicked it to the sides of her face, drops of water dripped off the ends of her eyelashes and her eyes seemed to be filled with heartbreak.

Upon seeing this, he embraced her once more, "I'm sorry." He wondered what she would do next to find her mother. One thing was for certain though—they needed to get out of the rain before they caught chills.

He grabbed up the quilt and let her go but still had an arm around her shoulder guiding her toward the barn. She halted her steps though when she took notice of the structure. He continued to tug on her arm, trying to lead her forward.

"No."

"We can be dry there," he reminded her—as if somehow she was an idiot and did not know.

"No. I'm not going any further," She turned suddenly, pulling out of his grasp.

She walked away, leaving just as soon as she had arrived. He couldn't just let her go off again—she was behaving so very odd. So he did the only thing he could do—go after her.

They heard the bleating of sheep approach and Jaythen caught site of a herd being moved along toward the barn by a young man. He stopped herding them when he spotted the young lord and the girl with her back turned on them.

"Oi, are you lost sir?" he addressed Jaythen because he was the closest.

"Nay, just seeking shelter from the storm. We were caught unawares." Jaythen nodded his head in greeting, causing more water to pour into his face.

"You can 'probly stay at the barn 'till the rain passes," he offered, and it was just what Jaythen had wanted but Avalyn was causing him difficulties already. He lunged forward and grabbed her arm once more, he drew her close and spoke persistently, "Don't be foolish, we will catch illness if we continue in this manner."

She stubbornly shook her head, frowning and not making any eye contact. Jaythen held his finger up in a momentary gesture at the shepherd—in apology for making him wait in the rain for them. The sheep were mulling around in a confused manner.

The Shepherd approached them, "You'd better get in there before the sheep, otherwise you'll have to crawl over them to reach the ladder to the loft." Jaythen noticed that after the Shepherd said those words, his face fell into a ghostly stare when he got a good look of Avalyn.

"Oh my God," he breathed.

She turned fully to face him, daring him to speak another word despite her dark look.

"Oh my God, Avalyn—you're alive?"

"Yes," she nodded, biting the inside of her cheek—apparently not pleased, "Sorry to disappoint you, brother."

Jaythen switched his gaze between them, seeing an obvious contempt. Brother? Alys had no other children though and Avalyn had never mentioned any other family members. The Shepherd began to hustle the sheep toward the barn, no longer the polite young man that he had been.

"You best get your arse to the cottage—Ma and Da will want you to explain yourself, and you'd better hope it be a good reason to why you've been gone for a whole month."

Jaythen was absolutely perplexed—finding any situation he had shared with Avalyn to be filled with odd twists, turns, and great mystery. He looked in the direction the lad had pointed and spotted a small cottage— a farmhouse, nestled in front of a part of the Great Forest. His legs stopped moving forward, realizing first, that they were far closer to Wendbury than he thought and secondly, that the Shepherd wasn't Avalyn's brother, but was the child of those farmersthat Alys had abandoned her daughter to so many years ago. They were heading straight toward the very place it had started. He grabbed Avalyn's hand, coaxing her forward—to let her know that he was here this time, and no one could hurt her.

Her feet were planted into the ground as she stared at her childhood home. He pulled on her harder but the wetness of her skin made his grip slippery and he lost it.

"It will be alright, they might feed us. I don't know about you but I've had nothing but apples, bread, and water the last two weeks to fill me."

"I can't go back," she stated.

"It won't be for long, just until the storm passes—anyhow that shepherd will tell them of you if we don't go in there."

Her stance lost its heavy plant—his point must have had gotten through to her. He didn't understand why she was so fearful of mere people—she was far more powerful than any of them.

So they moved toward the cottage but all the while Avalyn's steps were filled with reluctance. They reached the front door, which was a bit dry for the overhanging roof. Jaythen balled his fist and hammered it against the door. Avalyn grabbed his upper arm and pulled herself close behind him as if he were a shield.

The door flung open and a homely girl—younger than them—with frizzy brown hair stood before them, regarding Jaythen curiously but then, she noticed the girl with green eyes and her face broke into a concerned frown, "We thought ye were dead."

Avalyn didn't respond but only matched the girl's frown.

"DA!"

Jaythen was growing tired of waiting to be let in, but nonetheless he stood politely waiting with Avalyn latched onto his arm and rain hitting at their backs.

"What? What are you shoutin' fer Louisa?" a broad man with a beard about the age of his father came into the doorway to see the wet youths.

"God Almighty," he balked at the sight of the drenched girl.

Avalyn and Jaythen were broken apart by the shepherd just arriving—he didn't ask them to move—only tore between them to get inside. He grabbed Avalyn by her wrist while he was at it and pulled her across the threshold. Jaythen felt her grip on his arm try desperately grapple to regain its grasp but it was lost as she was torn away.

"Can you believe she's here? I would have been for certain that dragon had done her in."

Avalyn took her arm out of the shepherd's grasp at once with a vicious jerk. Jaythen could only watch from the doorway, being ignored by all. He wondered why they didn't embrace her and show happiness at knowing she was alive, after all they had raised her since she was young—agreed to take her in even. She had to mean something to these people.

The lady of the house entered the room then, from an adjoining one that was probably the kitchen. She was wiping her hands on an apron but stopped when she saw Avalyn standing at the middle of the room. She stared at Avalyn and Avalyn only stared back.

"Well, why don't you speak?" the young man pushed her forward toward the mother.

"I don't have anything to say to you."

Her tone was not friendly and the father of the household obviously did not appreciate it. He yanked her shoulder roughly so that she faced him and raised his other hand—Avalyn scrunched her eyes shut, waiting for a blow but none came.

A sword was pointed under the man's chin at once and his eyes were bulging with fear as he finally regarded the young lord that stood before them all.

"Don't you even think of striking her," Jaythen seethed, his grip was solid, "Let her go."

The father did so and held up his hands to show he meant no more harm to the girl. Avalyn backed into her protector until her back was pressed against his torso—he had a feeling if he wasn't in the way, nothing would keep her from bolting out the door.

He lowered his sword apprehensively.

"Who are you to come barging into our home and threaten death upon me for disciplining my own deceivin' daughter?" The man asked angrily but wisely didn't advance.

"He is my husband," Avalyn spoke quickly with a surprising decisiveness, and held out her hand to display the white gold ring, "He has every right to protect me and you very well know I am not your daughter."

The family seemed a bit shocked at her admission, and no one was as shocked as Jaythen—he had never claimed they were wed—engaged, yes—married, never. He had a small wonder of how she still had her ring because she had shed all her possessions but the amulet when she flew off two weeks ago.

"We would ask for a bite to eat and shelter in your barn from the storm, if you would be so kind to oblige—we would be gone as soon as it stops raining."

There was a long, almost painful moment of silence.

The woman nodded slowly, "Aye, you may stay a bit but after the storm passes you best be on your way."

"Ma!" the son objected.

"Shush, before I twist your ear!" she hissed, "I've put a pot of stew on the fire, it'll be ready in an hour or two and I'll have Louisa bring it to ya."

Jaythen took her hint and ushered Avalyn out of the cottage and to the barn. They had to make their way through the flock of sheep that were standing on the hay-covered ground. Avalyn grabbed the rung to a ladder that led to the loft of the barn. Jaythen grabbed one also and climbed up behind her. Her foot suddenly came down on his hand and he let go of the ladder rung with a sharp shout of sudden pain, before glaring up at her. She had done it on purpose and he couldn't even see her since she was above and her skirts obscured all other parts of her body.

He hauled himself up into the loft onto more hay-covered floor, it prickled through his clothes. He looked up to chide Avalyn for stepping on his hand but she was already lying in the corner against a small haystack. She had her back towards him and her whole body gave off the hint of defeat.

He crawled over to her and put his hand on her shoulder to which she just jerked it away as if he was one of them.

"Why couldn't you have listened to me?"

He was suddenly irritated, "Listen to you say what exactly? You made nonsensical refusals of being dry and warm. Why did you not say that we were here?At least then I could have understood your reasons. If anything we are both at fault for this predicament for our own stubbornness!"

He was so frustrated with her he didn't care if he angered her.

She turned around with a glare but could not say anything. He sensed that she knew he was right.

Then quietly, "Nonetheless, thank you for stopping him."

His frown softened and he scooted closer, "You do know you could have stopped him yourself?"

She shook her head, "I had tried to once, but it only provoked more beatings."

"Why didn't you turn to—?"

"I haven't been able to change dragon for that long—only for the past month or so. I could not defend myself before," she pushed herself away, wanting to be near no one. "I have done everything they have asked me since I was a child! I would chop firewood in the middle of freezing snow, I would fetch water from the well before dawn, and I would clean—even if it took all day. They commanded and I would obey because my mother told me to behave myself! She left me with these people who would beat me for the tiniest of mistakes, because they grew to think of me as a burden. Alys never returned for me. Louisa hates me because I'm prettier than her, and her brother hates me because he's jealous that I was able to read. I was not their kin, but they could have shown me at least a tiny bit of kindness."

His eyes dropped to floor, ashamed at himself for chiding her. She obviously hated it there—a reminder of an abusive childhood.

"The one and only time I was disobedient was when they tried to take my mother's amulet, to sell for money at market. I screamed and screamed and held tight to it. The Da threatened to chop off my fingers but that didn't daunt me because as far as I knew—her amulet was the only hope I had for her returning for me."

He saw she was holding the necklace even now, running her fingers over the amethyst jewel, with a longing sadness.

"May I ask why you told them I was your husband?"

Avalyn stared at him sharply, "Because if they thought you were anything else, they would have tried to keep me here—to return me to the chore horse I was before I ran away. If they are led to believe I am your wife, then you have claim to me more so than they."

"Should you explain yourself?"

"Tell them the truth? That I got so angry after the Da beat me one morning for spilling a bucket of water that I ran off into the woods to find out I was not a human? I was scared, horrified but I found out keeping it subdued only made me volatile. So I left for good—I didn't need them anymore. Then I found you, lost in the Great Forest—and after everything, now we are back to my beginning."

Jaythen couldn't say anything in reply to her biting tone. She shook her head, disgusted of either him, her situation, or something else entirely.

"No, it wouldn't matter what my explanation is to them. They don't care—they never cared. You saw how indifferent and then hostile they were at seeing me alive."

The rain was beating against the roof, followed by loud thunder, and Jaythen could see water leaking through a few holes. They were also sharing shelter from the storm with a few birds perched on wooden beams holding the ceiling up.

"Soups up!" they heard a voice. Jaythen peered down the climb hole to see the sister holding two crude bowls of stew—which looked more like slop—but his stomach wasn't deterred.

He scurried down to grab them, handing them up to Avalyn's outstretched hand.

"Thank you," he nodded, though his politeness was wearing thin on any members of the farming family after Avalyn's rant.

She made a small curtsy and left them to eat alone.

He joined Avalyn back in the loft. They sat and sipped the stew from the bowls, and it was the most nourishment Jaythen had in two weeks.

"So how did you find me so quickly?"

She stopped sipping the meal, and licked her lips—"It's easy to spot you from high in the sky. I saw you sleeping last night and followed you until it started raining."

He gave her a suspicious look, wondering why she didn't show herself immediately upon her return.

"And Griswold?"

"What about it?"

"What happened there?"

"I didn't find my mother. I asked for her by name, by appearance but no one has seen anyone by her description."

"So what will you do now?"

"Continue on I suppose, though I do not know where to start," she sighed and continued to drink the stew.

After they were done, Jaythen rushed through the rain to return the bowls to the cottage. He informed the family that Avalyn and he would sleep in the barn loft and leave in the morning whether the rain was done or not. They only grumbled slightly but allowed it.

The quilt was still soggy from that afternoon, so Jaythen slung it over another low hanging, wooden beam for it to dry better. He also hung the knapsack there for safekeeping. He settled himself down in the hay to sleep—letting the sound of the rain lull him to sleep.

Awhile later a dangerous sensation awoke him. It prickled up his spine and caused the tiny hairs on his neck to stand on edge. He sat up with an unusual urge to grab his sword and protect himself. A sound of thunder growled above them. Avalyn was laying asleep near him, against a hay bale with her hair slightly tangled in it.

He looked around the loft, it was dark. But he could sense the presence of another so he did grab his sword. He readied it in front of him.

You will take your sword and slice her he remembered the chilling demand from the white witch. His eyes landed on Avalyn's mid section which was unprotected. Her arms were slung above her head and grabbing at the hay. He shook his head, telling himself he was being ridiculous.

He saw movement on the other side of the loft and held his sword up, pointed in the direction of movement.

Slice her, the insane, lunatic command was tugging in his mind.

"Are you here, witch?" Jaythen asked quietly.

For an answer his arms twisted so he was suddenly pointing the tip of the sword on Avalyn and in one horrific moment, he knew what he was being forced to do and could only think of one way to stop it.

"Avalyn! Wake up, before I slay you!"

Her eyes snapped open but she was too late, they bulged in horror as the point of his sword stabbed shallowly into her abdomen and drug across her flesh in a quick motion. She screamed in pain and surprise staring into his eyes with hurt confusion.

"God, forgive me Avalyn—she made me do it," he choked out, trying for all the world to remove himself from her.

The white witch appeared behind him then, placing her hands on his shoulders, her nails slightly digging into his shirt. He wanted to turn his sword on her, he wanted to drop it—remove it from Avalyn's side but he was frozen like so.

"Without you, boy—I could have never have gotten to her. You were the only person in the world she trusted, and that is why you had to be the one to do it," she said, staring manically at the girl with green eyes—more specifically at the blood starting to trickle down Avalyn's side.

Jaythen closed his eyes and shook his head, praying this was another horrible nightmare. If anything, it was too real—it was a living nightmare.

The woman in white pushed him aside and reached for the wounded girl's lesion.

"NO!" Avalyn managed to scream angrily and in that instance, she changed to her greater form, breaking and splintering the wooden structure as her body grew. Sheep were screaming and jumping over one another to escape the terrible beast. Jaythen could move again, and as the floor beneath him collapsed he leapt and grabbed the end of the quilt that was still hanging on the beam. The white witch lost her balance and fell to the floor of the barn. Rain pushed through the broken roof and spilled onto them. Avalyn towered over them, her emerald eyes burning with fury upon the woman in white. She tilted her head back and belted out a roar to deafen all. Then, she opened her jaw and hurled a torrent of fire at the witch, but the witch scrambled up, tearing her white gown in the process. What was left of the barn ignited under Avalyn's flames.

Jaythen looked up at the beam that was holding his weight, the fire was quickly charring it—it would soon break and he would fall quite a way.

The dragon lifted her claw and swiped at the witch but the witch evaded the deathly blow and then straightened her stance, confidant of herself—that she would not die this night.

"This is not over," she said calmly, unnervingly despite the flames that rose behind her causing her to look like a demon out of hell. She snapped her fingers and disappeared.

The beam was seconds from buckling. Jaythen grabbed at the knapsack next to it and managed to sling it over his good shoulder before the beam finally snapped—he shouted as he fell. His body twisted and was tangled in the quilt but did not feel the hard hit of the ground. He was yanked upward. He couldn't see a thing as the thick material was covering him, but he knew that Avalyn had a hold of him.

She will rip me apart, he thought for sure. He could hear the beating of her wings, pumping through the air and a constant grumble and then roar that was hard to tell apart from the thunder around them. He would be at her mercy now, and he prepared himself for the sure death that awaited him when they landed. A death he was sure that he deserved because of what he had done to her, no matter the excuse, the bewitched force that made him to. He had known since the day they left the Imperial City that the witch wanted Avalyn, yet he never told her—warned her of his suspicion. It was his fault. If he couldn't find a way to forgive himself for hurting her, then how could she?

A/N: So this was a dense chapter, but I didn't feel like breaking it into two. So I hope you enjoyed your super-extra-bigger-than-normal, action-packed chapter! Also, if you'd like, drop me a line and tell me what you thought :D