Author's Note to those just tuning in...who haven't read parts 1 and 2 to my series: Well hello there! This is a third installment of a four-part series, so for anything to make sense, I suggest you read the second part, 'Return of the Light', if you haven't already. For the most part, you can get by without having read the first part, 'The Fountain of Youth', but I advise you read that one as well, just so we're all on the same page. Or you can always just risk massive confusion...it's your choice! XD

Weeell...welcome back, my fellow TR fans!! It's good to be back, too. You know, I've been so bored lately without having anything to write. It's KILLING me!! But I'm very happy to finally post CHAPTER ONE of PART III!!! I know a lot of you were/are a bit skeptical about the idea of Lara being a mother, but trust me...I did my absolute best to work it flexibly into the story, alright? Have faith. I haven't let you down yet, have I? Sure, I've screwed with your heads a lot, but isn't that what makes a good story? XD

Anyway...enough of my rambling! You guys came for the story, not for me! Read on!



Bright, flashing lights. Colorful streams of illumination. A mystical realm that never should've been breached in the first place. Lost hope.

What difference did any of it make? It had been so long – so long since any of them had returned. So long since any of them had felt the fleeting emotion of pain like they'd felt that day in those harrowing hours. So long since they'd had to fear for their lives and narrowly dodge an incoming bolt of green psychic energy, potentially dangerous enough to kill them instantly. It had all been so long.

Somehow, he was sure that he should've been the one left behind. He should've been the one to carry the sword, to carry the weight of the burden of victory. Victory didn't always come with a happy ending – anyone who was a hero knew that. Heroes were the ones who could hold on long enough, even as pain consumed their entire being. Heroes were the ones who fought the enemy even in their greatest moments of fear. Heroes knew that in the end, there wasn't necessarily going to be the typical 'happily-ever-after' type of scene that people expected. Victory was often hollow, often painful, and worse than anyone would expect, it was often a burden.

Holograms. Images. Flashbacks. Filmstrips. All of it was designed to weaken them, and to some extent, it had. It had destroyed them, and left them in hollow pieces.

Victory, worse than anyone would expect, was often a burden. A heavy burden. So you saved the world – what about it? You were the one who would have to carry the painful memories on your shoulders. You were the one who would have to remember all that had happened. It's human nature to desire the feelings of tragedy, to long for pity and attention, but when you carried the burden of victory – whether alone, or with others alike – pity, attention, tragedy…they were nothing more than pendulums swinging back and forth, sending you from one extreme to another.

So you saved the world – what about it? That didn't make a damn bit of a difference as to the fact that lives were lost along the way, that there was still pain all around. So you saved the world – that didn't mean that everything would immediately be okay. There was still the aftermath, the ashes from the fire to sweep up. The aftermath, in this case, had lasted for twelve years.

Bright surges of green energy flew towards him. He thought he'd narrowly dodged all of the attacks, but to his misfortune, he felt a warm, stinging pain in his back as he stumbled to the ground face-first. The air escaped from his lungs as he fell to the ground with a thud. He tried to roll over onto his back to look up at the enemy – although he already knew who it was. He tried, but the very task of simply rolling over onto his back demanded more physical capacity than he had at that moment.

He heard footsteps behind him, and then a low, evil chuckle from the enemy. There's no way out now, he admitted to himself with bitter acceptance. He closed his eyes, let his muscles loosen and relax, and then prepared for the final attack that would send him under.

A silent hum behind him. He knew it was coming his way, and the next thing he could feel was pain coursing throughout his entire being. Perhaps this was what death felt like…



Garin Limoux jerked his entire body upright in the bed, gasping for air. He glanced about the room quickly. The curtains were floating lightly in the breeze as it came through the open window. Moonlight streamed from the overhead skylight onto the floor just outside the hallway. The only sound he could hear was that of the tree branches scraping against the window. Although…a part of him was certain he'd heard something else, too – almost like a pounding noise…

It was just a dream, he tried to convince himself. Of course, he had those dreams a lot lately. Karel would chase him, he would fall down in defeat, and the next thing he knew, he was dead – or at least, that's what he figured would have happened. He always awakened before he had the chance to float away from his body and see just what had happened.

It was just a dream, he repeated to himself. He couldn't very well go back to sleep, though. He felt like a child, too afraid of the storm to sleep alone. But he was an adult, and he was a Lux Veritatis knight. Surely he'd find it in himself to put the fear at bay and go back to sleep…

And there it was again. That pounding noise. He jerked his head in the direction of the front door downstairs. Was that someone knocking on the door? Who the hell could that be? he thought. He'd seen it in movies before – the late-night visitors with the weapons tucked away. Something in the back of his mind, though, told him he shouldn't be afraid – just wary.

Garin quickly reached for the Glock in the drawer next to his bed, then climbed to his feet, stealthing past the wall and the hallway table. He pulled back on the slide of the gun, then gripped it with two hands, moving as quietly down the hall as a police officer would in attempt to avoid potential danger that could erupt while hunting a suspect. He quietly moved down the stairs, keeping his gun trained on the door. When he finally reached the peephole, he peered outside. His face knit into confusion, and he relaxed his grip on the gun. With a sigh, he unlocked the door and opened it to come face-to-face with his Lux brother, Kyran Vasiley. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, both irritated and relieved at the same time.

Kyran shrugged his coat off and dropped it at the foot of the stairs, entering into Garin's Amiens manor without even an invitation. He sure hasn't changed a bit, Garin thought as he closed the door behind him. Kyran turned to face him, gesturing towards the gun. "You planning on using that?" he asked.

Garin turned the firearm over in his hand, then ejected the magazine and set both items on the nearby table. He folded his arms over his chest with a sigh. "Kyran, it's three o'clock in the damn morning. What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you about something," he said, heading deeper into the manor towards the sofa in the living room. He ran his fingers through his hair as he seated himself. Garin didn't really know what to say to his brother outside of business. Sure, they'd never been the closest of friends, let alone friends at all, but he hadn't seen him in twelve years. "I thought you were still in Greece?" Garin asked, leaning against the wall.

"I moved back to the states," Kyran replied.

"Which still doesn't make sense," Garin continued, "as to why you're here in my home…in France."

Kyran fiddled with his hands as he leaned on his knees with his elbows. Then, he slowly looked up at Garin. Garin had never seen Kyran so…tired. Not necessarily physically tired, per say, but so beat-down and weary. His eyes held the stories of a thousand burdens behind them. If Garin thought that he was doing bad lately, then Kyran must've been worse, which strangely enough, was odd for someone so self-centered and narcissistic.

"Okay, I think we missed introductions here," Garin sighed, realizing that Kyran was, for a change, speechless. "How have you been in the past twelve years, Kyran?" He'd not meant to sound like an asshole, but quite frankly, he felt like one. His tone was irritable, to say the least, and the fact that Kyran was hardly giving up any information was even more irritating.

"Has it really been twelve years?" Kyran asked as he looked up, making a joke with a serious tone. "I would've guessed two or three years at most."

"Cut the shit," Garin demanded. "You're obviously not here for a chat. What do you want?"

Kyran glared at him strangely, somewhat surprised by Garin's standoffish attitude. Garin was anything but standoffish, and he always kept his cool. At least, that was how everyone knew him as. Then again, it had been twelve years. Perhaps things had changed…

"Well, look who's all tightly-wound now," Kyran shot back. "What's wrong with you? Did your dog die or something?"

"Kyran, either tell me why you're here, or get the hell out of my house," he said, close to shouting. "I don't have time for your games."

"Right," Kyran scoffed. "There's so much else to do at this time – like sleep. And if you're anything like me, you haven't been doing much of that lately either."

Garin narrowed his eyes at him. "It's a bit hard to sleep when Karel follows you everywhere."

Kyran looked up at him. "I knew we had something in common."

Garin relaxed a bit. "So…you too, huh?" he asked quietly.

"Part of the reason why I'm here," Kyran said, rising to his feet.

"You couldn't have sent a letter?" Garin asked irritably.

"A bit 'old-school', if you ask me," Kyran said with a cocky grin. "I prefer e-mail."

"Right," Garin scoffed. "Because hearing from any of you guys was the first thing I expected when I woke up."

"But who said you were asleep in the first place?" Kyran challenged.

Garin wanted to punch him in the face. Sure, they'd never gotten along, but in these past days, he'd never found himself so irritable, so on-the-edge with everyone. He could hardly control his rage anymore, it seemed like. Part of it was because of Karel stalking him in his dreams, and another part was…

Kyran brushed past Garin towards the hallway and jogged up the stairs. "Where are you going?" Garin asked irritably.

"To your study," Kyran replied. "I'm guessing it's up here…?"

Garin's stomach dropped. "Don't go up there…" he warned. Kyran didn't listen. Garin sighed irritably and then headed up the stairs after Kyran. He was already at the hallway down the door by the time Garin reached the second-story. Kyran's hand rested on the doorknob, and he glanced over at Garin with an irritating smirk. "In here, right?" he asked.

"You really just welcome yourself into other people's homes, don't you?" Garin asked irritably.

"I'm guessing that's a yes…" Kyran turned the door knob and pushed the door open. The lamp on the desk was still on, and the computer hummed, indicating that it hadn't been turned off. There were papers scattered about the floor, pinned to a billboard against the wall, and tucked into books lying on the couch, the desk, and the chairs. The place was a disaster. "Hm," Kyran said simply. "It seems you were more adamant on keeping me from seeing such a mess than seeing what the mess actually is."

"You've had your tour," Garin muttered. "Now get out of there."

Before Garin could protest further, Kyran entered inside, glancing about at all the papers lying around. The paper crumpled beneath his feet as he stepped on it, but he merely ignored it. He glanced around at the pictograms drawn and pinned on the billboard. Some of the papers had drawings with multiple colors smeared across it – others had strange numbers written in unstructured patterns. A map along the back wall had a large, black, repeated circle over the small location tucked away just north of the island of Madagascar and south of the Seychelles islands. Large, black arrows were drawn around the circle, pointing towards the location. Kyran scoffed a bit at the drawing as he approached it, dropping his fingers over the drawing with familiarity. "So you too, huh?" he asked Garin without turning. "Seems I'm not the only one stuck in Lemuria."

Garin sighed quietly to himself, folding his arms over his chest. "It's not something you can just forget in a day, Kyran."

"Yeah, I know," Kyran replied rudely. He dropped his head and looked down at the papers on the chair before him. Then, he picked one of them up, examining the almost-exact replica of the portal they'd stepped through so many years ago. Several numbers were scribbled underneath the picture were latitudinal and longitudinal coordinates, and just below those were polar coordinates and a bearing. "Why write down the coordinates if you know where it's at?" Kyran asked, keeping his gaze trained on the numbers.

"So I don't forget," Garin replied sarcastically.

Kyran didn't respond like Garin would've expected. Instead, he slowly put the paper back down on the desk, then turned to face his Lux Veritatis brother. "You know, it all makes sense now," he said casually. "Why we're having these dreams."

"Why is that?" Garin asked with boredom.

"Because…" Kyran said slowly. "It's Kurtis."

Garin scoffed. "Sure it is."

"Don't act like you don't believe it," Kyran said irritably. "Why else would you have all this shit in here?" He gestured towards the room to encompass all of the drawings, symbols, markings, and papers that held some significance about Lemuria.

"Because it helps me sleep better," Garin said.

"Right," Kyran scoffed. "Sleep. Remember how that doesn't seem to work anymore?"

"What do you want me to do?" Garin asked defensively. "Obviously, we can't get the portal open. Obviously, there's nothing we can do."

"Then why are you trying so hard?" Kyran challenged. "You must spend…what?...four to five hours in here a day pondering over this bullshit like an obsessive addict."

Garin shook his head irritably and turned away, heading down the stairs. He heard Kyran following behind him. "So I found out your little secret, Garin," Kyran said dryly. "Big deal. You're still trying to open the portal and find Kurtis. Lara told you not to bother with it – no, she ordered you not to bother with it. Yet here you are, slumming through the wreckage like a dog looking for a bone."

"So what?" Garin muttered, opening the fridge to search for a cold beer.

"So…" Kyran said, leaning against the cabinet. "So what? That's exactly what I'm saying. Who cares what she said! It's obviously not making a difference on you, and now's as good of a time as ever."

"Oh, yeah?" Garin challenged. "Why now? What is it about now that makes it such a good time?"

"Because…" Kyran said slowly, reaching into his pocket. He removed a small, folded paper and then unfolded it, peering down at it with triumph. Then, he stretched it out and held it before Garin's face. "This is why," he said flatly.

Garin glared at him, then turned his attention to the paper. There were coordinates written on it, and that was all. A few small numbers written down in pencil, smearing over the dirty, crumpled paper. His face knit into confusion as he took the paper from Kyran's hand, staring down at the numbers as they popped out into his vision like a 3D mind teaser. Then, he regained his skeptical composure with a shrug and looked back up at Kyran. "What about it?"

Kyran sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if he'd been in a car accident. "The truth is…Karel's not the one following me these days. It's Kurtis."

"What?" Garin asked with confusion.

"Yeah," Kyran said. "It started about a month or so ago – simple, quick dreams about Lemuria, about him. Now, though, I can't even sleep for five minutes without waking up. Last week, during another one of those 'dreams', I saw these numbers float across the spectrum." He flicked at the paper with a cocky grin. "Something tells me they weren't random."

"Let me get this straight…" Garin said skeptically, leaning over the counter. "You had a dream which happened to involve these numbers…and you think that it means something important?"

"Well, don't sound too disbelieving," Kyran said, leaning away from the counter. "It's possible, ain't it? Why not give it a shot?"

"What do you expect to find, Kyran?" Garin asked rhetorically. "You think we'll end up in this place – wherever it is – and –"

"It's in Maldives," he interrupted, "just south of India. Trust me – I looked it up. It's smack-dab in the middle of the island."

"Whatever," Garin waved him off. "What do you think we'll find? Another portal? Kurtis? Karel?"

"I don't know what you will find, Garin," Kyran replied. "But it's worth a shot."

"Wait…what I will find?" he asked, taken aback.

Kyran grinned that cocky grin he always had, even twelve years ago. "Yeah," he said simply. "After all, you're the one who's got the entire upstairs study devoted to this…situation. I think it's only fair that you be the one to go!"

"Some logic there," Garin muttered irritably.

"Don't sound so upset," Kyran suggested. "And don't sound so surprised. You didn't think I'd changed in the past twelve years, did you?" He smirked annoyingly at his comrade.

"Always looking after number one," Garin muttered. "How could I have thought different?"

"Like I said, don't sound so surprised," Kyran repeated, heading towards the front door. "I just needed to let you know, that way it's someone else's problem. Besides, we both know I'm not the 'leader-type'…but you sure as hell are."

"How noble of you," Garin said sarcastically. "Although a simple phone call would've been enough."

Kyran rested his hand on the doorknob. "There's more security in face-to-face communication," he put simply. "And besides…I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

Kyran opened the door and pulled the color of his jacket close to his neck with a grin. "Have fun in Maldives," he said. "Maybe once you find him, he'll leave me the hell alone."

"You were always such a valiant person, Kyran," Garin said sarcastically as Kyran headed down the cement path.

Kyran turned to face him with one final grin. "Don't sound so surprised," he repeated.


Chapter one...DONE! And I'm sure you were all expecting to see Lara or Kurtis, eh? Well, you'll have to wait. Sorry! And 12 years...hm. That's been a long time...yeah, you guys hate me already, don't you? You'll live, trust me XD

trfanfrombeg: Your approval of me making Lara a mother makes me happy. You see, I was quite nervous about it, but one person's faith is enough for me XD And then after I read your review about the ring thing, I couldn't help but laugh. You're so right...unfortunately. And I editted the paint part out, haha.

Rozzyrox: Yeah, I can imagine Lara would've picked something more crazy and unique for a baby name, but I wanted something simple yet ambiguous so she could have all these cheesy and fluffy little nicknames, haha.

Welcome to the story, all my new followers! Come like moths to the flame! It's always party time around here!! And you can expect to see chapter two up on Saturday, July 4. A little Independence Day gift for everyone =D