The Guardian

by heartdamoose

In search of finding her true identity, Numair's daughter faces not only the dangers of prophecies, gods, slavery, insanity, remarkable powers, and unending adventure, but the friendship and unending love of a certain Queenscove knight in training.

40. The Crumbled Bridge

I just thought I would let the world know that this is probably one of my favorite chapters.

And I know what you're thinking. "Oh Moose, how can this be? The last like 20 chapters have all been angsty shmangsty with crying, and yelling, and dying, etc. etc. Are you saying that one of your favorite chapters is a sob-fest"

Well...no, actually. This chapter is dysfunctionally hilarious.

Song for this Chapter: Cheers Darlin' – Damien Rice. This is the most sarcastically bitter song in the history of the world. Embrace it.

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Chapter 40: The Crumbled Bridge

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In the last chapter...

Romeli wakes up and is most definitely alive. She starts freaking out because she's in a lot of I-just-woke-up-from-the-dead-and-omg-I-haven't-moved-in-days pain and shock and all those things. Her memory comes back eventually, and she gets enough strength to instinctively find James. She falls unconscious in his arms and he finally breaks out of his zombie-state.

While in her unconscious period, she has a talk with her guardians. Of course she's a little mad at them for not being there for her, but all is well eventually. When she wakes up she is in more shock-pain and then she talks to Alanna—where Alanna points out the mysteries 'design' scars on her neck.

She then sees her guardians again where she learns of her next project: looking back in her memories of slavery to uncover the meaning of those scars—and quickly apparently, due to her guardian's panicked and uneasy expressions.

When she wakes up again, she has huge fight with James, who was convinced that Romeli was dead—which she technically was, but whatever. The stomped off and never talked, even on their journey back to Corus.

During their journey, she becomes close with Maryann, the only person who can truly understand the extent of her slavery, and she thus tells (actually shows) the spy everything about her. At the end, they eventually arrive at Corus and Romeli breaks down…finally realizing she is home…

"Look! It's Romeli! They got her!"

Her eyes widened and she snapped her head around to the entrance of the palace. There, at the foot of the couplet of stairs, stood her friends. When she looked toward them, they began to run towards her with wide smiles on their faces.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw James. There was a hint of color in his eyes.

For the first time in weeks, she let everything go. No more problems. No more secrets. No more fears. And with this freedom, she at last let her tears fall and began to cry.

At last, she was home.

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"Wandering around our America has changed me more than I thought. I am not me any more. At least I'm not the same me I was." - Ernesto Che Guevara

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Perhaps she should have been embarrassed—or blush at least—what, with such an involuntary breach of her emotions. Foraging the last bits of her dignity seemed reasonable enough; she lacked the ability to do even that. Idiotic…weak…hell, it didn't even matter anymore anyway.

So she cried—though it probably wasn't her voluntary choice anymore. It seemed that her body was out of control for the time being.

Stumbling towards them, she instantly collided with multiple bodies. It was beyond her awareness who she was hugging, whose shoulder she was burying her head into, but she eventually got through everyone.

They moved onto James with an equal amount of huggable enthusiasm.

Romeli waited patiently as they gave him their friendly slaps on the back. He gazed up at her once—she tactfully lowered her eyes to the ground.

Eventually the excitement of hellos were over and they found themselves all standing together as a complete group once again. Ryoku stood next to her, consulting her as the tears began to stop while also holding Ethan's hand. Tim stood next to his twin, sensing something slightly off about him from the look on his face, but not voicing his apparent concern. Whave and Sereem were also there, their eyes blazing with anticipation and excitement.

And so the bombardment of questions began.

"Mithros, Romeli…you had us worried sick," pointed out Whave with mild concern stressed in his voice. "We couldn't believe something like that could actually happen! What did you do over there, anyways?"

She shrugged in a reply, giving him a weak smile. "Tons of things. Breaking the rules, pranks on the king, chaos and destruction…" The list could have grown on, but the effort to take the vastness of her experiences so half-heartedly was a challenge in itself, and she knew the pain would be coming any second. Even keeping her voice steady and humorous was an act barely accomplished.

All of them seemed to buy it, except for James, who had grown fascinated with the lacings of his shoe.

She ignored him, placing a hard façade on her face to keep the pain from reflecting in her eyes.

"You didn't honestly…" Tim's sentence tapered off as he considered her words. "You pranked the king?"

And I killed him, she added involuntarily. Romeli blinked, clearing her thoughts quickly. "Of…course. Come now, guys…you didn't honestly expect me to just sit there, did you?" Her voice wasn't convincing.

Despite her doubt in them believing her, they laughed in agreement. It was obvious to all of them however, that the conversation had grown significantly tense. Romeli found it hard to maintain a normal voice without going overboard with emotions that were undoubtedly going to burst…and soon. Her friends sensed her withdrawn state and had creases of worry on their faces—none of them knew what to do about it.

Ethan was hesitant as he spoke, clasping Ryoku's hand in his own tightly. "I—well, I'm curious…what are those scars from?"

Romeli froze.

"On your neck," he added.

Five more pairs of eyes fell on the said body part of discussion.

Oh…that.

"They're battle wounds."

That voice was most certainly not her own. She turned her head towards James, slightly surprised as he explained the scar's orientation.

So he was trying to be normal. How cute.

She hadn't the slightest clue whether to be mad or flattered—she decided to drop it and cover up the question before she would lose control. Like she would have a real answer to give them anyways.

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling wickedly. "I was kicking ass so hard that I didn't even notice until it was too late."

"That's intense," breathed Sereem, completely impressed with the exquisite design.

Whave was harder to move. "That's interesting. What type of weapon was able to do that?"

Her mind blanked.

"A…very delicate axe," James replied with a slightly dazed tone. He smiled weakly, as if that would make up for his bad lie.

Ha ha, that's an oxy moron, you…moron.

If Romeli was able to hit her forehead with her hand, she would have.

A slight tingle surged through her and she knew that James was staring at her from the corner of his eye, probably wondering about the amused and slightly insane look on her face.

She met his gaze; he nodded curtly.

He backed her up…he was acknowledging her existence. Did that mean they were back to normal now? Considering the everlasting look of indifference plastered on his face, she figured that as a negatory.

A wave of pain swept through her body and clearly showed in her eyes as she looked away—unable to stare at him any longer.

Ryoku was staring at her oddly.

Good Lord. What had happened to her social life?

Whave nodded, accepting the answer with a hint of doubt.

"What did you eat there?" asked Sereem, lightly. Leave it to him to make any conversation relaxed. She was filled with undying gratitude.

Milkshakes.

Romeli blinked.

Realization hit her that over her whole stay in Scanra, she never had one single milkshake. Not one! Sure, she watched people eat milkshakes, but never had one herself. Was there a difference between Scanran milkshakes and Tortallan ones, or was a milkshake an international delicacy? It was a real shame that she would never know seeing as she wasn't planning on heading north anytime soon. Of course, what if she was able to conjure one now? Would it be a Tortallan milkshake, or a Scanran one? Of course there was the matter to figure out if she could even conjure them at all—it could have just been a one time thing; something that she dreaded was not true. She loved dairy products, and oh what splendor it would be, to be able to conjure up a Carthakan milkshake at any time…

"Romeli…"

Holy cow. Where am I?

"Romeli, are you all right?"

She blinked, getting her thoughts together. "Huh? Oh yea…I'm sorry…just sorta got off in my own thoughts again."

"About what?" they pressed.

"About…milkshakes." She smiled at some remembered joke.

They stared.

And here she thought she still had somewhat of a respectable reputation.

"Is that what you ate in Scanra?" asked Ethan, a look of amusement in his eyes.

"No."

"Then…what did you eat?" From the look Ryoku gave her, she looked convinced they hadn't fed her at all.

"Oh…tons of things," she started lightly. "Salad, chicken, pasta, fish, cheese…and they had this weird pudding that tasted faintly of cocoanut."

"Cocoanuts aren't native in Scanra."

"Neither is the swallow." She pointed out matter-of-factly.

They paused,

"Okay, that's it. We're taking you inside and feeding you. They've brainwashed you."

Whave grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards the entrance with a strength she could not match. She fought his hold the whole way to the kitchens, making her habitable defiance known to all those who met her gaze.

James stared at her the whole way, letting her know with his eyes that he would be there for her, but the effort would be minimal since she probably didn't exist.

Romeli frowned at the feeling of his gaze, withdrawing slightly.

The dining hall gave her a friendly hello with a welcoming mountain of food at her disposal—awarded all too enthusiastically by her over-worried friends.

"Eat, Romeli." Whave ordered hardly as he sat across from her.

Romeli felt awkward. Were they all just going to stare at her until she finished? Ridiculous.

"I'm. Not. Hungry." She stressed each syllable desperately.

Her stomach growled with nothing less than a furious roar of a starved predator.

Traitor! She accused, glaring at her plate as a blush consumed her.

James' eyes did not meet hers, but a wide grin flashed across his face.

Oh don't give me that look Mr. Denial, she snapped at him silently, a glare coming to her eyes. She picked up her fork defiantly and shoved a scoop of salad into her mouth, making a scene as she unwillingly swallowed it.

"Very good," replied Tim, amused.

"Oh shush," she snapped as she took another bite.

OOO

It was a whole other day completely, still wrapped in the torturous room that had become the demon of her expanse of a nightmare. Even still, the stench of her blood in the room, stale and metallic, haunted her, though at the time, any sense was beyond her comprehension.

Maggur barged in with a confidence that made her sick. He was such a fool. The Romeli of her memories mirrored the same reaction, through her color was fading, and she knew she was slowly dying.

He seemed to notice this as he examined his nails, completely at ease.

"Today, I'm hoping to make some progress with you."

"How's that?"

"Oh…you'll see…"

Both of them cringed. She remembered this day clearly.

"…But first, I want to ask you a couple of questions." He paused here, having his fun in drawing out the suspense. "Why exactly were you in my office?"

"What office?"

Bad decision, playing denial. Of course she knew the office—more like a shrine, that housed a historical scandal bent completely on her predicted future.

"You know very well what office, dear girl. Now answer me, or I will have to punish you."

"Go ahead and punish me you sick bastard—."

Ouch. The slap was worth the intensity of her words.

"I am sick of your immature games. You behavior is unacceptable. If you were not so valuable as you are, I probably would have hung you a while ago."

"I don't care what you think, Maggur. Go to hell."

Of course, matters instantly changed when a grin grew across his face. Her expression sank as a guard pushed D'mitri through her door with Maryann behind, holding him tightly. She knew it was going to happen, but it did not decrease the amount of pain that rose in her now.

The whole situation was rather cliché, watching it now in the corner of the room. It was unbelievably cruel, threatening his life with a knife against his neck to get answers from her. But she had to oblige, she refused to destroy someone else's life for her own.

Funny. His life had been destroyed because of her anyway.

And it was even more typical when life decided to throw itself out of balance and trigger her Chaos Thoughts. Watching herself struggle now, suffering over controlling every aspect of the world that, for some reason, she was responsible for, made her cringe. How did she do it? How did she pull it off? She was already dying before it even started, and then fate had decided to make matters even worse. It was, without a doubt, the worst Chaos Thoughts she had gone through so far.

What was even more horrifying was not the struggle of herself, but what happened to everyone else. She had never seen how much the whole ordeal affected them, and watching D'mitri fall to the ground as his Gift consumed him was unbearable.

The whole situation was a disaster. The ground was shaking so severely, she thought her own bones were breaking. D'mitri was coughing up blood. Blood was coming out of her memory's ears, undoubtedly coming from the strained cries of the People in her mind.

Impossible, she thought with a creased brow. The whole event seemed so hopeless. She practically thought herself to be dead, or insane at least. Romeli found herself shaking to keep herself from helping, even though she knew the outcome.

After what she knew seemed like ages in her memory. But was merely minutes, the ordeal was over. The whole picture of the event was foggy, seeing as she herself was on the brink of consciousness. Maggur had left the room, and D'mitri was unconscious on a chair.

"Is he all right?" she heard herself rasp weakly.

"He's unconscious, but I think he's fine. You should be worried about yourself. Are you okay?"

A sigh. "I guess so. I'm as sore as ever, but it's not like I haven't gone through this before."

She nodded. "You do know that Maggur is going to want to know what happened."

"I'm not going to tell him."

"I guessed just that. But I can't hold him off much more."

Just then, a healer entered and she felt herself give in to her unconsciousness.

Romeli eyes snapped open with a gasp that she could never fully and comfortably grasp as she entered into the real world once again. Her heart throbbed in her ears as she tried to control her breathing. Good Gods…

The library was still completely vacant, just as she last saw it before she slipped into her memories. It was obvious that it wasn't an incredibly popular place—ditching her friends had been easy because of it.

Nonetheless, she felt ridiculous, sitting in the massive armchair that nearly swallowed her whole. It was her first day back, and though her mood was not exactly fit for partying, it was reasonable enough to catch up on old times.

But no…she was reading books in a gigantic chair while drifting off into memories fit for nightmares.

Some welcome party.

She felt like an absolute loser…an anti social one at that, but she had come to accept it. Hanging out with her friends was incomparable to making sure that she was prepared for her next ordeal. Fate did not wait for anyone, and she wasn't taking any chances.

At the moment however, she felt no further temptation to linger over her past's problems. Exhaustion was hitting her already, for she could only live through these memories again by bits and pieces. She snapped her book titled Ancient Magic and its Consequences closed and stood up to place it in a notable place on the bookshelf.

I'm not finished with you, she told it sternly, sliding it into its place. She looked around the vast room for a lingering moment before stepping outside and walking down the hallway.

The palace was tiny.

It was weird, really weird, how different the two palaces were. She felt herself in an odd position of emotions. On one hand she was nostalgic for the northern palace's 'wooden paradise' theme and felt slightly out of place in the southern extravagance. On the other, she was thankful to no longer be constrained within its walls and relieved to be home.

There really was not much to do now, and this annoyed her greatly. It wasn't that she couldn't handle the extreme emotional stress of researching—well, whatever she was researching for—but she could not push herself either. Thinking irrationally and straining her composure was not safe for the situation—whatever the situation was—that she was in. But now she had nothing to do.

And that was very, very dangerous.

It was her goal to keep herself busy—doing whatever it took to keep her mind off the problems that she knew were deep in her mind—waiting to pounce at just the right moment to drag her into a sea of self conflict.

Not a good idea.

Visiting her room seemed to be an applicable distraction. Sharpfang would be there. She would be in her room…with her double-bladed staff…her books…her own clothes…her books…her nice comfy bed…

Oh Gods…I can't go back there.

It wasn't only that she wasn't ready. Seeing her room would only justify the fact that she was actually safe in Tortall—something she wasn't emotionally ready to accept. And then there were her parents.

Her overprotective, worrisome, parents.

Ever since she rose from the dead (her mouth twitched at this, finding the context rather amusing), her parents had been nothing but pure idols of sympathy and worry. She managed to avoid most of their comments during the travel, being in her withdrawn state and all. But she never managed to get to sleep without consulting at least five worry-warped 'are you okay's' From them. She was beginning to think they were going to constrict all life-threatening factors from her life.

Completely forbidden.

So going to her room was out—though her parents were most likely worrying right now. She frowned at this, as if they needed more of a scare in their life right now, but they could handle it.

Something to do, something to do…

Visit the stables?

No…the stableboy was a horrible flirt.

Go to the gardens?

She grimaced. No…just recently died in one of those.

Pig out in the dining hall?

She was hungry. Still, not exactly tempting enough.

Run around in the woods?

Ugh. As if I need to see another tree in my life right now.

Go fly back to Scanra as quickly as possible, just to say I can?

Ha ha, good one.

Ryoku.

Hmmm…thinking about it now, she did want to see her friend. If not to talk about things, then to at least hang out…

It was decided. She would visit Ryoku to talk—Gods knew she needed it. And if anyone knew James better than she did from a female standpoint, she would jump off Balor's needle.

She shook her head quickly, clearing away the painful image of James in her mind and jogged up a flight of stairs.

Hopefully she was still awake…what time was it anyway? Ten o' clock…eleven o' clock? Ryoku was nocturnal, right?

She gave it a good shot anyway—better than going back to her room…and if her plan didn't work, she would only have around seven hours to kill. Maybe the flying to Scanra and back wouldn't be so bad after all…

No! Don't even think it! Her voice was stern in her mind. She was being ridiculous.

The walk to her door took shorter than she ever imagined. Even while taking a couple embarrassing wrong turns, she managed to reach the front door of her friend's room in less than five minutes. It wasn't nearly as tedious as the northern palace…

She found herself knocking on the door, and held her hands in front of her with a slight unease as she waited.

The door slammed open and in a speed beyond her comprehension, a body slammed across her own, hard enough to make her stumble back a couple of feet in shock. She felt a peck on her cheek as Ryoku kissed her enthusiastically.

"Romeli!!" Ryoku's grin was wide, and her nose wrinkled ecstatically.

Romeli smiled weakly.

"Get in here," she laughed as she grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Ryoku closed the door promptly after.

She skipped over elegantly and gave her another hug. "I missed you so much!"

Romeli chuckled hesitantly. "Well, at least you had Ethan to keep you comfortable, hmm?"

Ryoku blushed briefly, her eyes dancing happily as their usual ease fell into place. It was almost like the last couple of months never even happened…almost.

"Well…yea. I think we're going to start our wedding plans soon."

Romeli's eyes widened. "You two are…are…betrothed?!"

"No, no no," she laughed shaking her head. "I wish, though" A sigh.

"Yeah. But…that would be difficult," Romeli pointed out slowly with a bitter tone. Both of them knew they were talking about Ethan's abusive father.

Ryoku smiled weakly. "He will be a problem…a major one. But I have my hopes."

Romeli nodded. Understandable. But still, she decided to stray from the topic to a more interesting one. "So…have you two…you know…" She trailed off with a wicked grin. There was no need for further explanation.

Ryoku bit her lip, smiling guiltily. "Pass?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "You did!"

She averted her gaze, still grinning, and then looked back at Romeli seriously. "Do not tell James. He will skin me alive."

Romeli hesitated at the sound of his name, fighting an inner war of pain as the temptations to clutch her heart and keep it together were unfathomable. She composed her features neatly.

A topic change was in order.

Romeli flashed a smile. "You know. I'm surprised you're awake. I was thinking I was setting myself up for a disappointment when I knocked on your door."

Ryoku blinked. "Romeli, it's eight."

Damn. That's embarrassing.

"Oh. Really?" Romeli was slightly confused. "It's rather dark out for eight…" She pointed at the pitch black window for emphasis.

Ryoku shook her head. "Night is different in Scanara?"

Her features darkened. Well…not that she ever had time to notice…but perhaps she was right.

Ryoku shook her head, sensing the unease. "Well, like it's important, right? Come on, sit down and we'll talk."

Romeli plopped herself down in the middle of the room comfortably as Ryoku sifted through her assortment of drawers, obviously looking for something.

There was a pleased 'ah ha' of recognition when the object was found, soon followed by Ryoku sitting down across from her.

It was the largest chocolate box she had ever seen in her life.

"Father gave it to me," she informed with a wide smile. "I knew it would come to use eventually. Come let's pig out and get fat together."

Romeli laughed. "Sounds good to me."

As they talked, they sorted through the mounds of assorted truffles, trying each one suspiciously before eating it whole. A large portion of the box was refilled with half eaten chocolates, obviously rejected.

"So," started Ryoku chewing on a truffle with caramel filling and a sweet chocolate shell. "Nothing too exciting happened while you were away. I've been alone most of the time, since everyone else is a squire now—makes things pretty boring. They all only just came back around a week ago—no doubt for your welcome home party." She grinned.

Romeli shivered, and not due to the cold. She almost didn't have a welcome home party. "Well that's nice of them," she noted while attempting to mask a wave of hesitance. "So you've been missing Ethan?"

She giggled. "Of course."

The smile that grew on her lips was sincere. She was happy for them, but it didn't mean that she would really give love a chance right now. Romeli popped another truffle in her mouth. Thankfully the unpredictable flavors would be distracting. She gagged: apricot.

"You know…you were acting kinda weird today." Ryoku's expression was serious.

Romeli's smile faltered and eventually grew into a thin line. She shrugged. "It's weird coming back," she admitted. It only took her five minutes to walk to Ryoku's room. "Really weird."

"Oh totally," she agreed. "I guess I see your point. Two months." She whistled. "Gods, how did you do it?"

Surprisingly enough, she found herself smiling. "To be honest, I really don't know."

"Well come on," she urged lightly. "Aren't you going to tell me what happened?"

What were they doing, gossiping?

Romeli sighed quietly. Was she really prepared to get herself into this? Right now? Here? With all this chocolate?

But she knew she had to succumb. Ryoku deserved to know, and it wasn't like it was much of a secret anyway.

"Tons of things," she muttered. It seemed like opening up would be a lot harder then she imagined.

"Like…?" her voice was pressing.

Romeli shrugged. Where would she start with this whole thing? Her dead ex-boyfriend? The torture? Or perhaps she could start backwards and begin with her death…

"The chafing on my slave collar drove me insane," she confessed, hiding a hint of a smile. Once again, she chickened out.

"Romeli…" Ryoku's voice had a tone of disapproval.

"I know," she whispered shaking her head. She locked her eyes with Ryoku's. There was no doubt she could sense the pain in them. "I don't know where to start."

"Start at the beginning," she offered seriously, with a slight nod. Her eyes could not leave her friend's but she grasped her hands with her own and gave them a tight squeeze.

Romeli inhaled deeply. The beginning. She would start at the beginning. "Well…"

Ryoku rose her brows when her voice died away. Her expression was soft—patient.

"I guess the whole story starts with a boy named D'mitri."" Her voice faltered when she said his name—a hesitance. "He was, well…amazing, and my mentor to show me around the palace. Which is huge by the way, full of some of the most beautiful sceneries."

Her words came out in a rush as it grew easier to speak. Ryoku had to lean forward to understand her, both of them still holding each others hands easily.

"We become great friends, and I ended up telling him a lot. And I know, I know, I probably shouldn't have. I was in a land of my enemy, and who was I to expect someone to trust, or even believe me. But, all the same, it was one of those instances where…it was meant to be.

"The whole while, I had been a bad bad girl. I fought the king because I knew he could not afford killing me. I thought showing my defiance would mark how dangerous I can be. I wanted him to be afraid of me, and even more, I wanted to kill him—what he did to me was traumatizing.

"Over time, I grew used to the different life that I was leading. Most of this had to do with Maryann, who I thought was a spy for Scanra. Well, technically she was a spy for Scanra, but first and foremost came her duties to Tortall—a double agent. She taught me to give into the king, because fighting would never help me out of there. Her tactic was to sneak out—it didn't work out that well." At this, she shivered. "But I got out all the same. Everything was smooth, and as good as it could get for being a captive and all. And then D'mitri fell in love with me."

Ryoku's eyes widened with anticipation. "Seriously? I mean, were the feelings mutual? Was he handsome? What did he look like? Does James know?"

Mentioning James struck a chord. She shook it away quickly. Like he would care.

Her expression brightened as she remembered his face, crystal clear in her mind because of all the memories she had revisited. "D'mitri was…incredibly handsome." She laughed at this. "He was a northern prince (figuratively of course), with the second-best eyes I have ever seen." She wasn't in the mood to be recalling the first. "They were a rich brown and full of character. He had beautiful hair. Kinda long—swooshy. He could pull off the hair flip better than Quinn ever could. And he had an amazing muscle structure…" Her voice faded off, making Ryoku giggle.

"But it wasn't his looks, it was his personality. His life had been full of previous struggles, but his heart was golden anyway. He was pure. Funny…amazing." And he also got himself killed because he was not afraid of his love, she added to herself bitterly.

"As for how I felt about him, well, I'm not exactly sure. It was a hard period of my life, and so many feelings had been mushed that I didn't know what to even think. I don't think I ever loved him—not in that way at least. He did to me. We were excellent friends, and he was more of a brother in the end. I loved him like he was a brother."

Ryoku frowned and her expression grew confused. Romeli paused, giving her an inquiring look.

"Why are you talking about him in the past-tense?"

Shoot.

"Later," she whispered with a weak smile.

Ryoku's expression turned into a darkened dread, and a spark of hope came to her. Maybe Ryoku would back out. Maybe she could stop before things would get too overwhelming and she would collapse.

"So…you loved him like he was your brother," Ryoku pressed, giving her the okay to start again.

Romeli sighed. "Yes. But I tried to hide that I didn't love him, mostly because I was confused myself. He was the one thing that gave me freedom and a sense of a real life. I didn't want to let that go. Anyway, we had a lot of fun together."

Ryoku rose a single brow. A characteristic that all Queenscoves tended to had.

Romeli flushed. "Fun as in pranks," she explained, shaking her head at the innuendo.

Ryoku smiled. "Oh."

Her expression grew darker as she realized that this was where the true horrors began…she was not ready for it. "The fun was short lived," she confessed, her voice now distant. "I had to turn to a broken state—to survive. I was…well, I was no longer me—I was a spy. The rush is amazing, you know. I found out the oddest things—Maggur had a shrine…all about me." She laughed at this, but it slowly faded into a shiver when she remembered the ancient trunk.

"Then…things really took a turn for the worst. Apparently I had forgotten a vital rule—being lovers with a man without the king's permission results in execution and torture."

Ryoku's eyes widened. Everything clicked into place.

Romeli soon began to feel remorse for starting the whole conversation in the first place—for ever knocking on her door. Who was she to just lay out her problems like that? Was it healthy to be telling the world what had happened? Would Ryoku honestly be able to handle it?

"He was executed," Ryoku said flatly. It was not a question.

Romeli nodded miserably. It wasn't like she was ever incredibly connected to him…I mean, she knew him for a month or so. Of course the death affected her—as it should have—but now it was what, two months after? It was almost like she was reliving it all again.

This was not healthy.

"Romeli, you don't look so well," she whispered with concern, eyeing the girl's dazed expression.

"I feel miserable," she confessed with a watery smile. She couldn't help it—a tear escaped her eyes.

"Come now, Romy." Ryoku said patting her back. "Another day. I understand. Come sleep."

Ryoki got up from the floor and closed the massacred box of truffles, placing it on one of the few shelves in her room.

Romli got up stiffly, feeling slightly dizzy as the pain she had grown accustomed to overcame her. It was not much—well it wasn't the quantity of it that measured her tolerance of the throbbing of her heart and the excising of her most vital organs, but that she had grown strong enough to bare it. It was manageable, and she could live through it.

When she looked to the aside, Ryoku was pulling up the covers. At seeing her glance over, she motioned her to the bed, and waited until she was comfortable before slipping in herself.

"Doing any better?"

Romeli smiled weakly. Her eyes were tired and glazed with another threat of tears. Being here with Ryoku…it was strangely fulfilling. Someone in the world could actually understand her and give her an affection that did not make her feel as ashamed. Ryoku was her savior, her proof that though life went on without her, she was still welcomed back.

The thought was horrifying.

"I guess so," Romeli confessed. Her voice cracked, but she didn't completely mind. The weariness over her now would not allow her to think strategically or protectively towards her constant composure that she hadn't let down in months. She was in no mood to lie.

"I understand," started Ryoku sympathetically. She curled up next to her and laid her head on Romeli's shoulder. "To a degree at least. I can not live what you lived, I did not do what you dared, but what I do understand is that it happened. It happened—and you just got back. I get it. I understand that you must feel confused, lost, depressed. I do not understand your emotions specifically, but that won't stop me from understanding that you're having them. And whether you realize it or not, you need a support like that. No one can ever feel what you felt. Do you get that? And well…you don't have to tell me all that happened. I'm not curious—I'm concerned. And you need someone to be concerned."

The corner of Romeli's mouth twitched. She never like sympathy—but then again, 'like' and 'need' were not the same thing. And she needed sympathy.

"Thanks," it came out as a croak. More tears.

Ryoku hugged her tightly. "Sleep."

Romeli would have welcomed it—but lately sleep was not a factor of temptation to her body. She was weary, but she also could no place herself in such a peaceful state anymore. And even when she did, it resulted in nightmares. Usually she passed through the hours of the night by going back in her memories.

Doing that was obviously unacceptable here.

She didn't know what to do.

The soft breathing coming from Ryoku minutes later had informed her that she had fallen fast asleep. Immediately she was full of envy as she glared at the ceiling, back flat against the covers.

This was absolutely ridiculous.

And despite her constant chastisement for such pathetic behavior, it didn't stop her from doing it. She had been through this before—nearly every night now, this very same process. No sleep, but the aching temptation to do so. And then the frustrated boredom would settle in one to two hours later, and she would find herself giving in to the most pointless acts of trying to acquire sleep—sometimes it worked, though she always dreaded that fact because of the nightmare (singular because it always seemed to be the same one). When it didn't work, that was when she would result to her memories.

Either way, she would always wake up with a blood curdling scream.

As she sunk into the moment of this frustrated boredom, she heaved a heavy sigh. This was ridiculous, but nonetheless she gave in to her nightly habits. It was not safe to drift into her memories now, and so she prayed to the Gods that perhaps this one night, she would fall into a dreamless sleep.

It was two hours later when she finally drifted off. Her body shifted once again into a dream state—though, in reality, what her mind created now was far from a dream…

She had been here before—many times, really. She knew what would happen next as once again everything would play out for her. She was surprised she wasn't sick of it yet—though far from it. She was terrified of it.

The blistering wind was the first thing to notify her that the Gods had not answered her prayers. It came at her from the right with neck-breaking speeds and sharp shards of cold. Next came the picture, a large mountain that she had never seen or had heard of before, for no mountain had such intimidating amounts of merciless frosted snow as this one did. Her logic told her it was most likely of a northern influence, a black hearted mirror image of the alps—no doubt to signify the barbarous actions of her captivity

What made this a nightmare was not the billowing wind, or the height of the peak that she teetered on. It wasn't even the gruff nature of the cold. It was the emotional wreck that she found herself in—agonized and a state of distraught that she could not explain, and a sense of urgency around her to find something that she knew nothing about.

In her panic to fulfill such urgency, her search through the snow for whatever it was she needed was clouded with shock and hyperventilation. She panicked, but despite this, she was still compelled to move on, tripping up the trail of the tremendous peak, her hands numb and bloody from searching and falling in the rocks and snow.

Here again, she fell. Only this time, like all the others, she knew this was significant. She searched frantically in the snow, on her hands and knees until at last she obtained an object that was of no alpine descent.

The trunk she pulled to the surface was old, and at first glance, barely able to sustain the harsh weather inflicted upon it.

It was the very trunk she had opened while walking into her own personal shrine.

Romeli knew what would happen before it did, as for the umpteenth time she attempted to open it, only to find it locked. Each time, it was equally as confusing, and equally as frustrating. Why couldn't she open it? She had done it before. She had seen what was inside it, so what was so interesting about it in the first place?

Despite this better reasoning, she did not let it go. Her heart throbbed as she grasped for the lock and hit it against its hosting wood with little outcome. Tears slid down her cheeks and immediately frosted as she tried to pry it open desperately, knowing that what she needed was right in front of her, yet could not be fully grasped.

The screaming usually began right about there.

Instead, the nightmare continued on as she picked up the trunk, an act that would be virtually impossible due to its size but accomplished nonetheless, and threw it against the rough, stone side of the mountain. As predicted, it shattered under the force, splintering into remnants of what it used to resemble. The ruins of the trunk were large and few, making it easier to draw to the conclusions she had made so many times now.

The trunk was empty.

A dry sob of anguish escaped her mouth as she fell to her knees and surrendered to the grief that now swept over her. It was…tragic. She knew it was tragic, but she did not know why, and that killed her.

There had to have been some significance to it. Was everything in that trunk just a hoax? What did it mean?

Tears began to spill over and run down her cheeks as her body tuned in to the urgency of the situation once again. She had to find it, and from the gut feeling that was starting to make her tremble weakly, she had to find it fast. She had found something, but it wasn't anything.

This time, she had no impulse to react to it. Despite her better judgment, she only let herself fall, her back against the rocky and icy wall of the peak. The frosting wind tore at her mercilessly, but she let it come—she had not found it in time, and had accepted it. Only her destruction would be gazing at her now.

She wiped a tear away from her cheek and leaned her head against the rock heavily.

Romeli frowned. What she leaned against was no rock. She already knew what it was before she even turned around to get a better look.

Ice?

She sniffed as she got onto her knees and made her way in clearing away the snow. It was odd…ice never formed like this, not naturally. It was a solid wall.

A dread that can only be known through witnessing this so many times, filled her. Romeli counted the seconds…for it would be any moment now, that it would come.

Three…two…one…

She cleared away another section of the snow and in turn exposed the essence of her nightmare.

James stared back at her, long dead and entombed in the wall of ice, a look of terrified horror eternally plastered onto his preserved, cold features…

Romeli woke up, muffling a scream in her pillow.

It was a bright morning, the sun at an appropriate place in the sky to wake up to. The southern birds that she still had not gotten used to, chirped their morning hymns. She didn't bother translating their chirps into anything comprehensible.

She froze, her head still smashed against her pillow.

She was in Ryoku's room.

Ryoku was bound to hear that.

Filled with immediate dread, she slowly turned her head to the left, waiting to meet the girl's demanding eyes.

The other side of the bed was empty.

Romeli heaved a sigh that was short lived.

"Romeli?" The call came from the bathroom door as she heard it swing open. The concern in her voice was unavoidable—she had heard it. "Was that you?"

Just say no, she told herself. But in the end, she figured that was illogical reasoning. Of course it was her—who else? "Yeah. Sorry." Her voice was slightly raspy from the extent of her verbal morning horrors. "Nightmare."

"Oh," she said, a little relieved. It was obvious she had assumed something else. Seeing the look of discomfort on her face, she decided to change the subject. "You look terrible."

"Thanks." The reply was dry as she slipped out of the bed and turned to the mirror. She cringed. Ouch.

"Want a makeover? I have plenty of time today if you want to…"

Romeli shook her head. "Not today, Ryoku. I should be getting back. Parents."

"Are you sure you don't want to go shopping or something? It helps."

She smiled back weakly. "Perhaps tomorrow. I really need to do a few things today. Unpack, all of that stuff…"

"Oh." Ryoku nodded in understanding and gave her a light smile. "I see what you mean. See you at dinner."

Romeli waved it away. "Sure, sure. Dinner. See you at dinner." She opened the door and walked out with a glazed expression.

It was only halfway down the hall that a sense of dread hit her. A dread, she noticed, that was not too different from the uneasy feeling before she found James…

She shivered.

She never brought anything to unpack. The fact was nothing horrible or cruel, but it sent shivers down her spine nonetheless. It was like she had left and come back years later with everything the same except for her. She didn't even have her belongings to remind her that they were with her too when such a travesty happened. She didn't have a shirt that she would remember as the one she first kissed D'mitri in…or the pants that had also been whipped when Maggur found her offensive.

She shook her head and continued the walk to her room—the room that was unchanged. The room that, with her belongings, she had only a faint memory of. The room that she felt she hadn't seen in years.

OOO

She had been standing like this for at least half and hour.

Romeli could feel her parents' uneasy eyes on her back as she stood there. This was completely out of her level—and that was incredibly ridiculous. It was a wooden door…an inanimate object…completely inferior to anyone who turned its brass knob…

But then why was she still standing here?

Argh! And she hadn't even touched the doorknob yet! What the hell?!

She glowered at it—finally convinced she had met her enemy and her downfall. It was her bedroom door all along…

"Romeli…it's just a door," stated Numair from behind him. His tone was amused, with a tenor of concern.

Yeah…an evil door.

"I know, Dad," Romeli replied with a sigh, not bothering to turn and face him.

"Shush, Numair," whispered her mother with disapproval. "She's being symbolic."

Those words were obviously not meant for her to hear, and yet she heard them loud and clear.

Romeli frowned at the term: symbolic. Considering it now, she guessed she was—well the door was at least. It was the bridge between her stay in Scanra and her life in Tortall—and undoubtedly the bridge would crumble once she walked across it. The door was the true confirmation that she was back and would not go back. This was a good thing…well it was supposed to be at least. But her standing in front of that door for at least half an hour…did that confirm that she was not ready to walk this bridge?

Oh get off it…it's a door.

She sighed again.

"Romeli."

She jumped at the sound of her name. Her father's voice was much closer now, probably only feet away from her.

"This is a big step. I mean of course it is. But it's door. To your room. And you're back, Romeli. Shouldn't that be something to celebrate? Forget the past, your room is waiting for you."

She cringed. Forget the past? That was hardly acceptable. She needed the past to help her in her future.

Once again she did not budge.

"Numair."

Numair silenced Daine before she could start her defense.

"This is getting ridiculous, you know. I will open this door for you, you know I will."

Of course she knew he would. The dumb door.

Numair sighed. From the peripherary she saw his hand shoot out and twist the knob. The quiet click signified its opening.

"There."

Romeli blinked as the door flew open. Straight across from her was her bed…and she knew right around the corner would be her double bladed staff next to her bookshelf.

She couldn't even cross her own bridge. Someone had to carry her.

Feeling like the scum of the world, she trudged into her room, giving her father a nearly inaudible thanks as she passed him. Once inside, she closed the door quickly, pressing her back against it when it clicked close, and sunk everything in.

It hadn't changed. At all.

This was what she had feared.

It looked like it hadn't even been opened since she left. And considering the situation, she should have been grateful—no one had gone through her things. But instead, she had expected some form of maid service, and that everything would be tidy and new when she entered it. The bed wasn't even made.

A cry of anguish escaped her lips.

She was actually back.

It was like the past two months didn't even happen at all…like…time had gone without her, but she still came back to the same thing—only she had changed. It was what exactly happened…everything was the same, but she was different.

Romeli swallowed heavily and walked away from the door. The bed was right in front of her—unmade and disheveled, with a green cover that she had always liked. On the ground, there was a pillow, most likely still there after being knocked to the ground during her sleep. The curtains were open, casting hollow shadows on the walls that would have been warm if she didn't feel so out of place in the one refuge she was familiar with. Walking to her left, she nearly faced the full-length mirror she had put against the wall. She dodged it jerkily, refusing to look at herself. On the same wall that housed the door she walked through was her weapons rack.

She froze where she stood.

Oddly enough, looking at the dangerous crafts of metal cooled her nerves. They were the artifacts that were actually welcoming—the one thing she vented on. Her fingers itched to wrap her hands around her double bladed staff; she hadn't touched one in so long—her hands had grown soft.

It was a challenge to turn away from it, but she managed well enough to come face to face with her bookshelf.

That was a mistake.

The bookshelf stared back at her innocently, glistening with its dark oak gloss. It was stuffed with books to the point that the object looked disorganized and in a state of chaos. She had always loved reading, always seen it as a method to pass the time. But surprisingly enough, most of the books on her shelves were not recreational novels.

Most of the books were there for research. And there were so many of them all that they piled over, obtaining territory around the floor by the shelves, on her desk, by the window.

The titles of the books made her heart break nearly in two, and she grasped her chest to hold herself together. There were books of magic…most of them stolen from her father's own library, and most of them he would probably never let her read. She had learned greatly from them, more then she could from Numair, but staring at them now made her shake her head; it was so weird being back.

And most of all were the books that she had taken from the palace's library—the books of the Prophecy, its prophet, and any other research book that combined the two topics. A tear escaped her eyes.

Romeli looked away—she would need to organize her bookshelf again. Having those books in her room was unbearable. But at looking away, her eyes fell upon the chair—another rip at her heart.

Secrets on the Scanran Culture and Prophecy.

The title rang through her head infinitely, echoing heavily and wearing her down each time she read through it. That was the last book she read—the book that enlightened her that she was the object that caused the war.

Even worse however, was the fact that the book was open, its cover flipped up, concealing the pages against the chair's cushion. It was the very book, the very page she had read before facing her doom.

Good Lord, Romeli. Get out of here.

Romeli?

She yelped, coming to a conclusion in the matter of seconds that so many traumatic events had made her insane. She had resulted to speaking to herself…and even worse, she hadn't the slightest clue that she had lowered herself to such measures.

Romeli? Can you hear me?

She groaned loudly, running a hand through her hair with frustration. "Go away! Gods…I really don't want to be crazy right now…I just got back. A day ago! Why me? Why the hell is it always me?!" Another groan.

Romeli…turn around.

She froze. And now she was giving herself orders? The whole crazy thing didn't even make sense. She had gone insane before…this was nothing like that for sure. And did that voice sound like—

She became even more rigid. "Sharpfang?"

Talk in Serpent, stupid. I can't understand you.

Romeli sighed with relief. Two points for me: I'm alive and not crazy

Awarding of imaginary points over with, she turned around to face her cobra, tears brimming her eyes. Her room didn't seem nearly as empty now.

"Sharpfang," she breathed out, nearly inaudibly. It took a considerable amount of effort not to crush the snake as she hugged him closely to her cheek. After the long embrace, she kissed his hood affectionately and lazed on her bed, the cobra coiled up on her stomach.

I've missed you, you know. I didn't even get a goodbye. Both me and Shadowdancer had no idea where you were for a week! Eventually your Guardians contacted us.

Romeli let out a heavy sigh as a wave of guilt engulfed her. In reality, it wasn't her fault that she had to leave so quickly. At that moment it was hardly a choice. But despite this, it didn't erase her sympathy for leaving her friends so unpredictably.

I'm sorry, Sharpfang, she replied sincerely. You can imagine that I was in a bit of a hurry. I've missed you so much. You and Shadowdancer. My…stay…was so hard without you two to support me.

Even for a noble cobra, Sharpfang looked flattered. In an instant, she knew she had been forgiven, and for that, she was eternally grateful.

I know your actions were never intended to hurt us, he assured with a nod.

But still…I feel a deep need to make it up to you—both of you. She thought for a moment with a slight smile on her lips. How about I dedicate the rest of the afternoon to you two? We can go to the river and talk. How does that sound?

Sharpfang flicked out his tongue excitedly. It was an obvious yes.

You should bring your staff.

At the mentioning of it, Romeli glanced over at her weapons rack. The wood was cold and unused, making her palms itch to touch them once again.

I think that's an excellent idea.

OOO

The forest clearing was breathless as always as they stepped into it and soaked in the noon sun. The grass was dry, prefect for lazing on, and the trees were secluding enough to talk openly. There was a small stream of icy water that cut through it, adding a muffled trickling sound to the atmosphere.

Romeli hopped off of her mare's back and slipped Sharpfang off as well with a gentle hands. Shadow walked over to a corner in the sun and proceeded to lay down. Romeli followed suit, leaning her back against her horse's stomach lazily.

I've…really missed you guys.

Shadow let out a big breath within a snort. We've missed you as well of course. Could have given us a warning you know, but I suppose the circumstances are applicable.

Romeli frowned. Where did you get such intense vocabulary?

She could almost hear her horse snicker as she spoke. That friend of yours…Ryoku…she has a sophisticated set of words.

She's rather bright, piped in Sharpfang with a flick of his tongue.

Romeli glared. Are you saying I'm not smart?

The thought was absolutely ridiculous of course. She was plenty smart. She'd never gone to a scholarly university or anything like her father had, but his excess of books had done nothing but support her intelligence. And of course she was now very well informed with the exotic culture and cuisine of Scanra to top it off.

No, no no, no, insisted Sharpfang to her slightly offended question. But she does have excellent vocabulary.

Humph.

Romeli froze. Wait…how do you know Ryoku so well? Was she taking care of you two?

Yes, admitted Shadow with a nod. When she found out that you had been taken, she thought it her duty to take care of us. She was very worried you know. You couldn't see it, but you could sense it. She ranted to us all the time.

Romeli was flattered. She was touched that Ryoku would help her out so much, and also grateful that she had a good friend. Note: buy another chocolate box for Ryoku.

Shadow's voice cut off her own thoughts as her horse addressed what seemed to be the hit topic of the past two days.

Are you okay?

She sighed heavily. Truthfully?

Both her horse and cobra nodded.

Well… she paused, taking her time in deliberating what to say. At last she came to a conclusion. I don't know if I'm okay or not. I mean…I'm not depressed or anything along those lines, but I'm definitely not happy either. I feel…detached.

Detached? Sharpfang repeated the word with slight confusion.

Romeli grinned wryly. I thought Ryoku gave you the gift of advanced vocabulary.

Oh…well, yes she did, explained the cobra defensively. And I'm sure everyone knows what detached means, but…you just don't seem that out of it.

Romeli frowned. She didn't? Well…that was surely odd, since her friends had noticed it clearly. It was only yesterday that she was fully convinced she had gone anti-social—a theory that hadn't exactly deteriorated in the past twenty four hours. Perhaps it was because the People were much easier to talk to. But that alone couldn't be the only explanation. Since, if the topic were addressed, she would hardly have the energy to discuss her stay in the north. Hell, if the situation got so bad, she wouldn't even be able to confess her problems to a stick.

Then again, maybe she had gotten skilled at masking her emotions. Perhaps she could tolerate the pain of being mostly alone—mostly manageable.

She shrugged as a reply. I don't know. I feel detached. I don't exactly like talking.

Well that much we've noticed, observed Shadow truthfully. I remember the days when you would never cease to talk. It was quite the entertainment.

Romeli let out a hesitant smile. Those days seemed so long ago…

Was it really that bad? Sharpfang's voice was concerned.

She didn't need a dictionary to define the topic of their discussion. Romeli let out a heavy sigh. Yeah…it was. Her voice choked up considerably and tears threatened to spill. She was grateful she did not need her voice to converse with her friends. Ugh! How had she become such an emotional wreck?

They both sensed her new tension and attempted to comfort her with only a slight outcome. After, they both gave up the reassuring comments and understanding. They dropped the topic warily and let a new ease lower on the conversation through a change of subject.

Why don't you try it out? Sharpfang had noticed Romeli's eyes fall on her double bladed staff set carefully on the grassy ground.

Romeli shrugged, seeing no harm in giving her staff a go. She feared she would be a little rusty at it, but such doubt in herself dissipated when she was reminded that she had plenty of time to practice.

She held the staff in her hands now, sliding the wood through her hands to get used to its feel again. Even after laying in the sun for a good hour, it was still cold and stiff to her touch after being abandoned for so long.

After getting a good grip, she hesitantly commenced in the easiest pattern dance that she could remember. To her embarrassment, she was very rough, no doubt due to her foolishly skipping a session of pre-stretching, but she managed well enough. The eyes of her friends on her every mood made her feel incredibly self conscious, but she figured it a good thing. Their eyes made her think clearly and carefully.

Over a time she grew comfortable with the staff and moved on to more complicated dances. It was slightly frustrating to have to start over after making a mistake—something she did often, but it also gave her a new motivation—something else to do besides worrying about what her next ordeal was going to be…

Oh shit.

Romeli froze and lost grip on her staff at the same time. It flew quickly through the air and straight towards her friends, cutting through the air so quickly it whistled. It flew towards them with a blur that was barely able to be registered to her, let alone her friends. It did not help at all that she was currently wrapped up in her own apprehensive thoughts.

The staff froze mere inches away from Shadowdancer's neck.

Romeli's eyes were wide with horror as she threw her staff to the ground, her hands still glowing emerald from the use of her Gift.

Wow.

Shadow blinked. Your reflexes have really slowed down lately.

Romeli took a deep breath after realizing that she had stopped breathing since her freeze up. With little regard to the seriousness of her situation, she broke into a smile.

Shadow and Sharpfang both began to laugh, and she soon began to as well. Romeli collapsed next to her friends and laid on her back as she let the merciless giggles consume her. Fortunately none of them could stop, making the whole situation end with complete ease. Tears had raced down her cheeks and her stomach ached.

Shadow… it was hard to control her wild magic while consumed in such illogical fits of laughter. I'm sorry.

Shadow chuckled as finally their laughs began to subside. No harm intended.

Romeli wiped her cheeks with her arms and sighed heavily. I guess I got carried away with my thoughts. I would promise not to do that again, but…

But what? Inquired Sharpfang intently. His beady eyes bore into her own.

Hmmph. She sunk further into the grass, deliberating over whether she could possibly defy the laws of chemistry and dissolve into the ground. In all reality, she had no reason to be cowering. She had no reason to hide anything from them.

Well…I suppose I'm sort of stressed.

Stressed?

Romeli blinked. Oh Gods, how she envied that they had not experienced the term.

Yeah…I dunno. I just… She continued to fumble over her words in her head, struggling over a way to convey her frustration.

I feel like, it's always one thing and the next with me.

Sharpfang looked confused. How? I mean, you always seem pretty serene in situations.

Romeli exhaled shakily. Yeah…situations. That's plural. Usually people go through what, two to three situations in a lifetime. I haven't exactly been counting, but it seems like I've been through a few more than that in the past year.

Shadowdancer and Sharpfang exchanged looks.

And I'm not asking for life to be boring or anything, but the rate that these things are thrown at me…how can I keep up? I mean, if it's not rescuing friends, it's trying to escape something, and if I'm not in dire threat, I'm surely falling behind in trying to find out my identity. And then on the side, I have to save the world whenever someone PMS's, and figure out what the hell a historical scandal has to do with Maggur…even though he's dead, so I guess that doesn't count…but I'm curious anyway!

Romeli. Slow down.

Romeli took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Sorry.

Don't worry about it, replied Sharpfang sympathetically. But let's look at this a little. Maggur is dead?

She blinked. Hmm. I was sure I told them. Yeah. I kind of killed him.

Kind of.

Romeli turned red. I also have him a lap dance. And then I died in a garden.

Shadowdancer looked skeptical, and Sharpfang seemed to be laughing.

But it's all such a long story…and I'm so not in the mood. She'd already told it around five times the past couple of weeks anyways.

Well let's turn back to your main problem, Shadowdancer offered lightly. You're stressed.

I'm stressed.

Precisely. And here's the thing. Right now you should only focus on one thing. And that is whatever your Guardians tell you to do. The rest of it…just consider it as a side job.

She pursed her lips as she chewed over the idea. So basically, I need to sort out my priorities.

Sharpfang nodded.

The context of it seemed simple enough, but she knew that it would be harder than it sounded. And what about my friends? They've already thought I've gone psycho, and if I ignore them more…

They could always help you. Sharpfang's words bore into her deeply.

Like I said. They already think I'm psycho. Plus I can't tell them all what's going on. For one, I have done enough explaining of past situations to last me a lifetime. And for another, opening up to people is not and never will be my forte.

And what about James?

She couldn't help it. She laughed coldly. James? Oh yeah definitely. Especially because he's denying the fact that I even exist. There was a pang in her heart as she spit out the words with bitter contempt.

Well, have you tried slapping him back into reality?

She laughed again. Yes…literally.

Well maybe his reaction is a little bit delayed, replied Shadowdancer. Either way, don't worry about it until you need to. You have one goal and one goal only, correct?

Romeli sighed. Correct.

Well in that case, I believe it's time to get back, said Shadowdancer with a strained voice as she got to her feet. Romeli picked up Sharpfang and her staff, and jumped onto her back with ease.

As they broke out of the forest edge at a lazy lope, the sunset set the clouds on fire, the dark and starry abyss began to sink, and she wanted to cut her tongue out. For her confessions made the dread not as bad.

But bad enough.

OOO

The next day commenced nearly like a routine. It was cyclical now. She would wake with a muffled scream, head crushed against her pillow, which would follow with her rolling onto her back to collect her bearings for a few minutes.

The rest was more or less the usual. She would get up and get dressed, clean her teeth, brush her hair. She would be doing all those actions, but in reality she wasn't. Her mind was in a completely different dimension.

And it wasn't that life was too boring that she had fallen into a daily trance. Far from it. In fact, it was that life had no time for boredom, and so her mind compensated for time in which her body could operate through muscle memory, and instead switched to more vital topics.

She skipped over one topic to the next, her brain turning its cogs as it came up with new ideas, and very few conclusions. Identity, James, memories, identity, James, memories…and the occasional milkshake and magical historical chest thrown in there as well.

After freshening up, she slid out her door and towards the dining hall. She hoped, and was pretty sure, that no one she knew would be there to accompany her. Not at this hour at least.

And it wasn't that she didn't like her friends or their company. She loved her friends. And their company. But at the same time…much time had passed, and she was not the same. She was not the same girl that could help them with their homework and hang out in a quiet room with—she had too much on her mind for that. Honestly, she hoped that they would forgive her for seeming so withdrawn. But she also knew that giving herself a shot in trying to act like she used to was pointless—too much had happened, and too much was on her mind for that.

Of all her friends, she was mostly concerned for James. She had a reason to be of course…he had taken the blow. And while other people may have endured the same pain as she did—he was right…she may have been falling, but he had seen her fall. And her anger over his stubborn denial…it was mostly out of shock and grief. It was hard to believe that she had affected him so much, but even harder to comprehend that he withdrew himself to such a level—how could he just do that? And because of his denial (though slowly but surely he seemed to be rising to the surface) she was hurt, because she had lost a best friend and was beginning to forget him as well.

But in the end, he said he needed time, and that was exactly what she was going to give him.

And anyway, as much as he seemed like the major problem, he was merely the side salad in her three course meal. Her identity was the mother load—the beef—the ultimate reason she was still breathing.

So yeah. The whole salad thing was tolerable.

And as for the beef…

It only seemed that she was digging herself into a deeper hole with every effort she made to get out of it. And the whole situation didn't even make any sense anyways, since she didn't even know what she was preparing for. Her Guardians had never been much of a help—seeing as they had lately grown a fascination with dark and twisty riddles.

Well okay, okay…they couldn't exactly tell her much, since apparently struggle builds character. But still! In all seriousness, their harm had really begun to outweigh their help. They ignore her in Scanra, blaming it on the fact that they had no powers when really she would welcome them over just for a cup of tea, and when she comes back to life, they promptly inform her that she's back to square one again. Not to mention the only way to prepare herself is plunging back into the depths of her darkest memories and punching a hold deeper into her heart.

Ha ha.

Romeli froze as the oddest lurch came to her. It was like a gag that she could not contain, and before she could conceal herself, a fistful of giggles had already escaped her mouth.

Her only sanctuary from public display was dodging behind a plant in the corner and shoving her fist down her mouth to keep from laughing audibly.

Well at least her hair would camouflage.

That brought up another laugh. Romeli hulked over only half willingly as her stomach tightened and her breaths came in shallow gasps.

Meanwhile her mind was going through a destructo war meltdown. Part of her had been caught up in the humor-tide and she felt mildly drunk on her own laughter. The other part of her was convinced she'd cracked…again.

And well, she went with the former. Her state was understandable. It was her body's way of resetting itself—of telling her that she had hit breaking point and had had enough trauma for that round. She had let it go. It was an odd way of escape. But it worked.

Not to mention that it was actually funny. And okay, if she wasn't drowning in her own laughter she would have thought otherwise…but it was hilarious! Who in the world could possibly have the same circumstances as her? She was some green haired freak who could transform into a dragon, stop a war, and manage to murder a king in less then a year. Not to mention her cataclysmic luck with boys, her mortality rate, and a fear of radishes.

Of course...there was also the milkshakes.

Hahahahahahaha…haha…ha…hehehehe….hehehe…hehehehe…haha…he…he…shit.

By now tears had formed tracks down her cheeks and she slowly began to get confused on whether she was laughing or crying. It seemed to be a mix of both, because in all reality she had perfect reasons to do either. And why not get them over with at the same time? It was much more efficient. It contained the pain during the crying, and it exposed the pain hidden during the laughing. And it would be over with twice as fast—like ripping off a Band-Aid.

I'll call it craughing, she decided with a watery smile.

With a flustered sigh, she leaned heavily against the wall and wiped her eyes. A laugh escaped her as she sniffed.

"Romeli?"

Hahaha…isn't that just my luck.

Well she had two options. A) turn invisible and tip-toe the hell out of there, or b) expose herself since it didn't really matter anyways.

Darn it all, she thought with a bitter laugh as she tried to dry her eyes again. She ducked her head out, soon followed by the rest of her body as she went up to meet her friend.

"Oh. Hey Whave." She poked out an enthusiastic smile.

Whave looked at her oddly, his firm brows knitted together. "What were you just…doing?"

Romeli blinked. "Ummmm…well I was craughing."

His expression in response showed little comprehension.

She mentally kicked herself. Like Whave would ever craugh. Would he? She felt like she barely knew him at this point. "I meant laughing, sorry. I was laughing. It's just that, well I'm a little shook up you see. Words turn upside down, and I don't even know what the point of saying all of this is. But I was laughing. Laughing really hard actually…as you can see. I mean, my face must be a watery mess right now. I think my eyes won't dry for at least ten minutes, and well I wasn't expecting anyone to walk in on me, so I didn't bother in containing myself. I actually don't think I could to be honest. I mean I've been through quite a lot of laughing scenes…but nothing so intense. Do you laugh much?"

Whave broke into a grin. "Romeli you are utterly absurd," he said shaking his head as he tried to hide his amusement. He gave her a tight hug. "And of course I laugh. Very often."

Romeli froze in his arms; high over.

Whave sensed her tension and let go of her quickly. "You okay?"

Though her laughing session was over, surprisingly enough, she felt lighter. It was like she really had reset. Not her nightmares, or her fears, or traumatic experiences. There was still a hole in her heart, but she could tolerate it; even push it aside. Her laughing…craughing, whatever, had pulled out the humor in life. All stress manageable.

"Me? Pshaa, I'm all right." She brushed off her shoulders and flashed a shaky smile. "I guess it's just a laughing withdrawal."

"Hmm." He clasped her shoulder tightly and gave her a smile. "Well anyway, were you just going to eat? You could join me if you'd like."

She mulled over the invitation. The dining hall was literally two feet away from her in a dead-end hallway, so the whole 'were you just going to eat' question could really only have one justifiable answer. A strong part of her wanted to ditch this bandwagon at any cost—even hurting her friend. But instead she sided for the more dangerous path, and gave eating with Whave a shot.

Hopefully they weren't serving radish soup.

Romeli gave him a crooked smile. "Sure. Let's go eat."

The minute she walked into the mess hall she knew she had made a mistake.

They both froze simultaneously, barely out of the wake of the entrance. Romeli's eyes were full of horror, Whave's with shock and a little concern.

Heh.

And to be honest, the whole situation would have caused another laughing fit, had it not been for her friend's wary eyes.

Up from the high beams of the ceiling hung a multitude of green banners. The tablecloths were green, the center pieces were green…oh Gods they even turned the candles green.

Now all they had to do was plaster her face on every inch of the walls and call her 'Romeli, ruler of all that is vegetables, death defying, and milkshakes' and she would reach the breaking point.

Romeli turned around on her heel and walked towards the exit.

Whave gripped her arms tightly and turned her back around. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I can't eat there! It's all…green! My green! The place is decorated like some royal court wedding! And…and…Gods what is this? Some bi-hysterical, premature, scare the hell out of Romeli love-fest? I don't do love fests! And I'm not getting married!"

Whave snorted. "Oh ha ha. Romeli, I highly doubt it's a bi-hysterical, pre-whatever thing. I'm sure whatever it's for, they did it for a good reason."

"So you didn't have anything to do with this?"

He threw his hands up in the air innocently. "Absolutely nothing."

She eyed him warily, still a hint skeptical as the two of them walked deeper into the dining hall and went to the buffet table to get their food. As much as she tried to contain her embarrassment, her cheeks were a shade rosy as they sat down at a secluded table. She could practically feel the eyes of the few people there on her back.

Stupid green tapestries.

After they had been eating in silence for a few minutes, she couldn't take it any longer. She put her fork down. Whave looked up at her with raised brows.

"Why are they staring at me?" she hissed towards her friend. There was an obvious and unexplainable tenor of dread in her voice.

Whave gave her a crooked smile and shrugged. His eyes glinted with an amusement that she had never noticed in him in the past months of their friendship.

She glared. "Well okay, I guess I see the resemblance. Unless some other chick with green hair fell from the heavens, then I guess I understand. But the fact that that shade of green just happens to match the color of my hair is entirely coincidental, right? I mean, for all we know it could be 'save the trees day'. And I know, I know, we have plenty of trees, but it's never too late to start getting concerned, right? Because I mean the population rate has literally just massacred—."

"Romeli." Whave gave her an amused glance. "Has anyone ever told you that you ramble a lot?"

"I…," she let out a hearty sigh. "Okay fine. The tapestry things there are some symbolic welcome home gesture. That's kind and all, but I don't deserve anything."

Whave's brows knitted together in confusion, but then he broke into another grin—a serious grin. "Romeli, you're a hero of Tortall." He laughed lightly at her idea.

Blink.

"Ha, ha bloody ha," she spat dryly. "Hardly. I didn't do anything." She picked up her fork and shoved a mouthful of eggs into her mouth. Her other hand went up to her neck and began to trace her scar absentmindedly.

Whave sighed. "I wonder how long denial is going to work out for you."

Romeli rose a single brow. She still stared down at her food.

"And the lying thing," he added lightly. "We'll see how long that battle axe story lasts."

She slammed her fork down on the table, eyes glowering as she glared at him deeply. Immediately his eyes were drawn to hers and caught. He leaned back a couple of inches from the intensity, but he was calm—his eyes matched hers evenly.

"Do you have any idea what even happened up there? Sure, people might have told you things, but they're wrong! I…I went through. living. Hell. And you know why? Because of me! Oh wow, I rescued the King from a kidnapping. Whoopdee fucking doo. That was my fault, also! I fell into the trap. I was being ignorant. I should have known it was me they wanted all along! And oh sure, I sacrificed myself bla bla bla and stopped a war. Well how dumb. I could have stopped it at any time. I just used my Gift, Whave! It was just my Gift! And I don't see how my own stupidity could possibly make me a hero. I don't see how slavery can make me a hero. I don't see how someone could even extract that idea."

Her face had turned red with emotion, though she had hardly been yelling to keep from drawing attention. She looked down at her plate, releasing him from her stare.

Whave was still staring at her intently, but he refused to be alarmed by her sudden defensive outburst. "Romeli…" he paused as he gathered his thoughts. It was noticeable that his anger was on the peripherary, but he kept it out of reach. "Are you just incredibly modest? Or do you actually believe that everything you said is true?"

She twitched. "I've never been one to lie." Her tone was dark.

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what mistakes you did to get there. But you did it! You fulfilled the Prophecy! You're a hero."

"Fulfilled the—." She threw her up her hands in disbelief. "Oh Gods, Whave! Fulfilled the Prophecy?! So you're saying I get a medal for…for what…following fate? Hooray, two kings fought over me and I stopped a war." Heavy sarcasm. "Yeah all right. Because that's fair. I'm doomed to be a hero. And what about the other people? What about Maryann, or…or the people who helped me, or the warriors who actually died because I was stupid and couldn't stop it soon enough?! The only thing I did was try to survive. That hardly deserves reward."

He sighed in defeat. "I don't want to fight you. So fine, you win. But that isn't going to change how I think about you. Get some perspective. You saved Tortall."

Romeli's shoulders drooped, but her icy glare did not falter as she stared down at the remnants of her breakfast. "Fine."

He grinned. "An impasse."

Romeli looked up at him, flashing a crooked smile that made his grin grow. "Impasse."

The rest of their meal was eaten with the accompaniment of a minute discussion over Ethan's highly complex facial features.

OOO

D'mitri had died.

It was old news, but as she sat in the corner of an empty classroom, literally holding herself together as another piece of her heart was ripped apart, she felt just the same as when it actually happened.

How cruel it was, that her memory could so flawlessly restore one of the darkest moments of her life.

She leaned her head against the cool stone wall as she gasped for fresh air. The dread, the horror, the cruelty of it all had consumed her. It was hard to move without another part of her breaking down. And she knew it to be unreasonable that she fought for air like she did. In reality her lungs were perfectly intact. But it did not cease the weight on her chest, the wrecking pain in her gut.

A part of her was slightly angry with herself. She had seen it once. She knew what happened. She knew why. If she had already been through it all once, then why did she hurt so bad? She didn't even love him; not in the same way that he did to her at least. He was merely a friend…but she had reacted like she had lost a lover. She was reacting like she had lost a lover.

And maybe this, all this pain, the tears that were beginning to soak the sleeves of her shirt, the trembling in some corner she had never been acquainted with, was for a different reason than the previous time.

The first time had been sadness and defeat. But perhaps the pain she felt now just came from seeing something that no one should be able to see a second time. It was the admittance that any attachment that she made to anyone she loved always resulted in some form of negative consequence.

But most of all, the fact that she suffered with the most was that she could no concrete factor that could possibly prepare her for anything.

And it was frustrating! She sunk into her memories so positive that today would be the day she would find something to lead off of. And she couldn't find anything that stuck out to her. No clue. No wise stanza of wonder for her to chew over. That didn't surprise her exactly. She figured the Guardians would make it hard—they made everything hard.

But this was getting ridiculous.

They were the ones who insisted in the urgency. They were the ones who told her what to do. They were her Guardians! And all they did was warn her through their Godly proverbs. Some help.

She exhaled shakily as her throat caught again. How was she supposed to do this? How could she possibly do this alone?

Suddenly she heard the door knob to the classroom wobble and signal its turning open. Her eyes widened with alarm, a flicker of green flame alight in her hand.

The door swung open and James stepped inside and looked around. Assuming the coast was clear, he walked deeper inside.

Her voice caught in her throat.

James froze when he spotted her, eyes wide. His jaw immediately clenched tight.

For once Romeli felt slightly embarrassed in front of him. But even more so, she felt hopeless. She stared up at him through her matted lashes, but the picture was unclear—her eyes were too watery, and she couldn't move. She hadn't the heart to. She began to tremble. Perhaps because she had ceased to hold herself together, or because she was scared—for whatever reason she was scared.

James shifted his stance as a huge range of emotions raced through him. First there was alarm, then disbelief, then anger, concern, and now his eyes too had been consumed with pain.

He quickly turned around and left the room, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Romeli didn't blink to forget what she had seen, but instead forced herself to fade it away as she stared at the distant ground from her. Staring at the ground, staring at everything, but staring at nothing at all.

She sighed. Just the salad, just the salad, just the salad.

Focus on the beef.

To be honest there was nothing more for her to focus on. She had mulled over every word, analyzed every movement. If she were to extract anything from what she saw it was that Scanran slavery did not allow for love—she had learned that the hard way.

But it was okay. She planned on living alone with no company for the rest of her life.

And Maggur was dead. She got her freedom. There was nothing to worry about.

This is absolutely ridiculous.

She took a deep breath and slowly got up, making sure that she was physically all in one piece. Her body shook, and she was weak, but she could cope; she had been through worse.

"I can't take this anymore," she whispered as she shook her head. Romeli looked up to the ceiling as if addressing the Gods, and more specifically, her Guardians. "What do you want me to do? What the hell am I preparing myself for? What does this have to do with my future?"

She stood there for a minute, hand to her forehead in frustration as she perked her ears for any sound, any message.

When she got none, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her expression serene, but her inner emotions roaring.

Of course. No reply.

OOO

Romeli was glad that the hallway was empty. For in someone seeing her now, she was forfeiting her sanity.

And honestly, standing in front of a green tapestry like it was the scum of the world wasn't exactly her favorite recreational activity. It was pretty lame actually. And though she had no reason whatsoever to be standing there, she did so anyways. And without ever moving an inch.

As she glowered at the fabrics existence, a range of emotions came to her. Though she only had a slight idea on its orientation, it did not lessen the fact that she hated it. She hated its color, she hated its meaning, its existence, its silky lace edgings. In fact she was now brainstorming a plethora of painful ways to dispose of it. There would be no mercy.

The tapestry stared back at her innocently.

Oh go die or something, she told the drapery menacingly. She narrowed her eyes further, increasing her glare. There was no way she would walk away from that…that thing…without at least burning it. Severely.

"Romeli?"

Oh shit. At first she thought that the tapestry was actually talking to her. In which case she finally knew that she had cracked. All the stress had at last gotten to her. But after another second's deliberation, she realized the voice was coming from behind her. She quickly whipped around to face the stranger with wide eyes, her emerald Gift pulsating through her hands.

"Oh," she gasped as she relaxed. The emerald flames vanished, and she curtly bowed apologetically. "Your Highness."

King Jonathan bowed back. The level gaze in his eyes told her that he was rather amused. Her face flushed as she wondered how long he had been watching her. "I see you've noticed the green."

Like I could avoid it. It's all over the place, she thought smartly as she watched him address the inanimate enemy. Romeli turned to look at the tapestry and gave it a good glare before speaking.

"Yeah…there's quite a lot of it…Sire." She turned back to the king, giving her antagonizing fabric the cold shoulder.

The king nodded curtly as he wrung his hands. "You see…that's what I was going to talk about. Would you mind if we talked a little in my office?"

A pit of dread rooted itself in her stomach. "Of course not, Sire."

"Excellent. Follow me then." He started walking and then paused to look at her again. "And stop calling me Sire, Romeli. You make me feel old. "He started walking again.

"You are old," she grumbled inaudibly as she stalled for a few more seconds. At last she gave the tapestry a concluding glare. Fine. You win. But next time…

She left her threat open as she curtly turned around and followed the king.

Tapestry: 1, Romeli: 0

OOO

"We're here to talk about green tapestries, Romeli." He sat at the head of his desk, and her at an overwhelmingly comfy chair across from him. She suddenly felt like she was being chastised, and the dread in her increased. Was glaring at tapestries wrong?

"Green tapestries, Sir?"

"Green tapestries. Yes precisely." He folded his hands together on the top of his desk. "They're of Tortallan custom."

"So…you do this every year?" And odd custom to be establish, that was for sure.

"Well no." He laughed. "They symbolize the honoring of an appointed Tortallan hero."

Heh.

She tried to keep her eyes from widening as she stared at the king. She knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth to say it, and yet she hoped that somehow this was all just some mistake.

"You are that hero, Romeli."

She didn't say anything. Just…stared.

Whave: 1, Romeli: 0

Romeli blinked. She was speechless. Her eyes were wide with horror as she looked past him, wondering how she could be drawn to such an outcome, and yet thinking she had not in the least deserved it. Jonathan had read her expression all wrong.

"I know, I know, it's quite a shock." He chuckled lightly to dissipate the awkward atmosphere that had settled. When that failed, he continued on. "It is a real honor, really. Both your aunt and your mother have also been awarded with such a status. And at your age! You've made history." He grinned widely at her.

"Made…history?" Her voice shot up three octaves.

"Oh. Without a doubt. They'll be singing songs about you for years. And not to mention your memorabilia green-ware will be furnishing the castle for a month."

Her mouth shut closed. She didn't know whether to be angry, or shocked. But she was too weary to lose it again like she had with Whave. She couldn't do that to the king, no matter how much she did not favor his character. Sure, she had saved his life and all that jazz, but it was only because he was the king. Nothing more. And okay, she was flattered and all that he came to rescue her—but it was her power he wanted—not her. She refused to ever get used again.

Romeli sighed. "A month?" Her tone was exasperated.

Tapestry: 2, Romeli: 0

Damn…

Jonathan frowned. "Yes. Is there something wrong with that?" His tone was curious.

Romeli gave him an unsure smile. "Well…it's just that I don't think I really deserve it."

Jonathan blinked. "Seriously?

"Seriously."

He sighed. "Seriously."

"And so…you'll take the tapestries down?" Her tone was hopeful.

Jonathan stared at his hands with a deep frown. He was obviously considering it.

Yes.

Tapestry: 2, Romeli: 1

At last Jonathan looked back up at her. His eyes were intent. "Why do you feel you don't deserve it?"

Damn.

Penatly for counting the eggs before they hatched.

Tapestry: 2, Romeli: 0

Romeli leveled her gaze with him, pushing her disappointing penalty out of her mind for the time being. "Well. I don't see how slavery could possibly meet the standards of a heroic metal." Her tone was completely serious.

"You escaped."

She chuckled blackly. "Not really. And I would never be able to do it by myself. It was a personal achievement."

"You stopped a war."

"So I get a medal for following a Prophecy? Awesome." More sarcasm.

"Romeli…" he exhaled a deep sigh. "You went through a hell of a lot up there. And I don't know exactly what, and I'm not expecting you to tell me, but that deserves respect."

"See, I don't understand that," she replied icily. "People go through a hell of a lot everyday, and they get no respect whatsoever. Why don't you hang up tapestries for them?"

"Because."

"Oh…great answer!" Her voice rose noticeably and she cleared her throat to calm herself down. "Listen, sure I went through a lot. But all of that is personal. I know I'm a walking disaster, but I cope, and I do my thing. All that I struggle for is for personal gain. I live and breathe for one reason only: to obtain my identity. All the rest is the…" she cleared her throat a second time. "Side salad. I don't deserve any sort of hero title, because I didn't do anything heroic for this country."

Jonathan swallowed hardly.

"So you see my point?"

"I do…" he said nodding slightly. "But I would like you to listen to mine."

Romeli leaned back in the chair with raised brows. She would play along.

He cleared his throat, as if to mentally prepare himself or conduct a well practiced speech. "You're reasoning, Romeli, is incredibly plausible—I envy your persuasion. However," Here, he paused to look her straight in the eyes. "Two words keep me from siding with you completely."

Romeli's expression was confused. She couldn't possibly recall…

"'For Tortall'." He smiled expectantly at her.

Romeli froze as the words hung in her ears. Of course she remembered them now. They were the last words that she had said before she had left to Scanra as a slave. Suddenly she was drawn back to that moment. She never liked the king much, but she had saved him anyways—she had actually threatened to sacrifice her life to free his. And it wasn't for him, surely—it was for her country. At that moment, she hadn't stopped the war because a prophecy implied she could. She didn't only willingly turn herself over as a slave because so many important people were captured. She did it for her country.

Romeli swallowed hardly.

"I see you remember," he observed with a nod of his head. "And all right. I know that you've never been too fond of me."

Romeli looked up at him curtly. "Sir…"

He silenced her with his hand. "Don't bother denying it. I deserve it really. I took advantage of you. I gambled over you. I saw you as a weapon. Even when we were planning on your escape in Scanra, all I could think was 'I can't let Maggur have that much power'. But when I saw you at the dinner…I saw a human being—one of my own people being hurt against her will. I was furious. We had to get you out at any cost not because you were some destructo object, but a captured Tortallan. And I know that what I've thought about you and how I've treated you have dislocated any possible relationship between us. All I ask is tolerance and respect. You give me enough of that already, and I ask for nothing more."

Romeli blinked.

"Now as for the hero thing," he started again as he repositioned himself in his seat. "You may have done all of those things for difference reasons, but it's the act of doing them that gives you a heroic title. And looking back, you did do quite a lot. You helped the virus in the plants, you save the world on a monthly basis, you have an immensely likable character. And not to mention you did stop a war. And sure, people did die before you stopped it, but in the end, more lives were saved than lost. The slavery…those conditions…no one but you could have possibly gone through so much trauma and lived…sort of." He quietly and uncomfortably chuckled at the grim humor. "Not to mention you finally killed your enemy and threat to your well being and the well being of the country. Romeli…" He leaned forward. "You deserve this."

Romeli sighed as she chewed over her words. She was never one to be convinced that somehow she was of higher status or conceded. Modesty was one of her most notable qualities. She was glad that she had done so much for her country—it made her feel…important. And sure, now she only said she did it all for personal gain, but at that moment of adrenaline, wasn't her impulse always for someone or something's wellbeing?

"So…this 'hero title'. It doesn't make me a higher status does it.?"

Jonathan smiled. "Technically no. If you're in a long line, you can't pull the hero card and walk to the front. It gives you no special privileges. But words will go around quickly about what you did. You will have your share of fame and stares—not like you don't already have any of that. You won't be as famous as Alanna, for example, but you will be honored and respected all over the country."

Romeli gave him a crooked smile. She just hoped that it would not go overboard. Getting honor and respect did seem nice though. She had always wanted to be just like everyone else—be accepted like them. But perhaps in being different she could be accepted as well. "I suppose I'll accept my hero…thing, whatever."

Jonathan laughed. "Good. I'm very proud of you. The ball will be held this Saturday."

Her eyes bulged. "The what?!"

He flashed an amused smile. "Ball. Also a formal ceremony where you'll get your medal, so you do have to come." He laughed. "And don't give me any excuses. I have the Lioness as my champion and Roaul as my King's Own Commander." He laughed again at some remembered joke.

"But…I…you…that isn't…what about…he…gah!" She threw her hands up in the air and stood up. "You know what? Fine. I'll be there. Whatever."

Jonathan picked up a stack of papers on his desk and sorted them together. "Excellent. See you on Saturday."

Romeli walked quickly out of the room, grumbling. At last she stopped around the corner and leaned against a wall helplessly.

Stupid hero balls.

She sighed again when she realized the magnitude of what she had just agreed to. And he said he envied her persuasion.

Jonathan: 1, Romeli: 0

She then looked to the side and noticed a green tapestry hung next to her mockingly. She looked forward again, staring at nothing but an empty abyss.

Tapestry: 3, Romeli: 0

---

AH HA HA!!!! I've always loved that chapter.

Cheers.

BAH!! (throws self at next chapter)

Replies:

Saphira: OMG I LOVE YOU!!!!!! Well…as a friend. Omg. That's just…so like…ack!!! (hugs) OF COURSE I'M GOING TO CONTINUE!!! I'm so pumped, you have no idea, I'm just like…this story is going to kick ass and then some. And you have no idea…ah!!! I love you!

Arianna: lol. Well at least you loved me for a little bit… but you'll love me again, trust me. And then you'll hate me again. But you'll love me again for the sequel. awwww…I'm really flattered that you were happy she's alive. I'm glad she's alive too. And James just has a slow reaction…he should get around in a couple chapters. Oh god I can't wait.

And I'm glad that you agree with me on the reaction thing. I mean, I have read those stories where the girlfriend gets mad at the boyfriend and they fight and fight and bla…and I keep thinking 'omg I hate this book'. But then I thought, well…if they were happily together, It'd be so…straight forward and dull. The story will end eventually…but there is much more to come, and there's also the sequel, which will be rated M…because James and Romeli and crazy. Lol. And I'm also planning a third book, but…well I don't' want to get ahead of myself.

Oh yea. The spelling errors. See I knew that there would be some, but by the time I type the whole chapter up, I'm like 'ugh, I can't wait anymore' and totally skip over rereading it. I think I'll read this one though. Just for you.

May silverstream: well I'm really glad that you read my story. You have no idea how great it feels to get someone new. It's like…omg someone cares, you know? It's great. And to answer your question…the 'if Romeli could make the soldiers obey her commands, couldn't she have done the same to Maggot?' question. Umm…well I haven't exactly thought about that. But I don't think she willed the soldier to obey her commands, she willed the war to stop—I guess it's slightly different. Romeli had morals, and even though Maggur was all evil and everything, he has a free will. I dunno. Lol. I like duct tape too.

Itachihater13: oh thanks so much, that's very touching. I also agree that it wasn't my best. This one isn't my best either. I've been in Germany, speaking German, while writing this, so English sort of evaded me for a time. I dunno lol. Thanks for the heads up on your story. I'll give it a read once life decides to settle down. Lol.

Silver-star-0: omg long review. Hahaha. yay. I heart you.

But yea. Don't yell at me. I wrote three more chapters, so that means quick updates. Mwa ha ha. Lol. Darn…well there's always that one reader who never gets fooled. If you're lucky you'll probably guess the rest of the plotline. Lol. Mmm. Yes James will start to come around…sort of in the next chapter… I think. Lol. I dunno. But yea…I'm glad you agree with me. I just can't follow the regular bandwagon when it comes to the perfect romance. You know? That's odd…about your chorus teacher. Lmao. But but BUTT.

Whispers Of Doubt: lmao. Of course I brought her alive…I can't just kill the main character. Well…actually I did, but I brought her back, so that's good. I think emotional is the right word for that chapter… interesting stuff. It gets better. And I love ya too. As a friend. Lol.

ShangWarrior: wow. Your review is crazy. Lol. It's okay, I brought her back, I brought her back!! I don't know anyone named Skippy. I said "bows like a cool kunfu guy?" lmao. Well…I don't know where you're from, but in California, everyone I know uses the word 'guy' as in all sexes. So no offense intended. Lol. I put in Shadowdancer in just for you! I know she's been sorta lacking for a while… I'll do my best to include her. Lol. Mmmm…well Inuit is part of the Eskimo tribe. And if I remember correctly, I only said Eskimo because I didn't want people to be like 'what's an inuit?' and everything. I am Inuit btw. Lol. I LOVE LoTR…and the music is also amazing. Thanks for the review!!!

The Inebriated Lion-Minion: haha. Wtf?