The situation couldn't be worse. Here we were, held captive by the enemy, I was one step away from collapsing, with no kisk nearby. I wondered, for a second, was it even in our area? Were the rest safe, at least? I couldn't think, not now that both me and my loved one were at death's door. It was slightly ironic, that I wished to meet them and that wist came true. What'll kill me first? Poison or the Asmodian knife?

I was brought out of my delusion by Ahnek, as always. I heard him stiffen, but didn't risk to turn, the knife only an inch away from my flesh. Instead, I heard him exhale, slowly. Then shift. However, when he decided to speak, his words were, at least, alarming.

"Peace, asmodian. I want no harm to you or your friends."

That was the first time I heard Ahnek speak Asmoth. The language was naturally rough, but spoken by him I could swear it was Elyan. Not that it mattered, anyway, given the conditions. Refocusing my sight on the face of the assassin, I saw the corners of his mouth turn upward a little, forming a smile that gave me chills. It was so short it could've been the poison's raving effects. Nonetheless, from the way he gazed at me and the wary amusement in his eyes, Ahn's commentary piqued his interest.

"A pigeon speaking our tongue. I must admit, I'm amazed. Weren't you scared it could poison your judgement, taint that oh so pure soul all of you are so proud of? That it could poison you, like our blood does? Oh, how preety the bird sings when it's entrapped."

He was mocking us. Taunting us. I saw red for a moment, my fury welling inside. It would've been so easy to just direct my magic, to just chant two words and rain destruction on him. Oh Aion, how I longed to do that. But it was a trap. A trap that I knew only too well to fall into. However, my impulsive companion on my right had more problems restraining himself, as I heard him take quite a few sharp intakes of breath, his breath so loud in that heavy silence that, given my condition, it started to cause pain. And with pain comes delusion.

Maybe we could take him down, being two against one, and run. I rechecked my magic's state- and it proved to grow weaker and weaker by mere moments. I could control it, preserve it, but not for long. My orb was still on the wrist, as prepared as always to burn the enemy to crisps. Ahn's scythe was still in place, too, for the Asmodian didn't have enough hands to disarm us. Still gleaming from the godstone's power. Still sharp enough to tear the carcass of our captor in two.

But then, there was the problem of his daggers that held us both in place, backs arched and heads drawn back. At the slightest sign of hostility, he would eviscerate our throats. The peace offer was, in the end, all we had, I realized, with a sharp exhale of the air I didn't know I was holding.

"Myths are just myths, nothing more. A wise person recognizes rumors for what they are, that is, spreading fear amongst others. I have nothing to fear of."

There was a short silence there, and looking in his eyes I could see the words cause quite the effect on the prone assassin. His gaze was a little unfocused, processing. Then realization came in, and his booming laughter, way too close to my sickened head, ran across me like thunder.

I was a Sorcerer, and while used to cuts and bruises and wounds of many kinds, I never experienced this before. It was clearly a signal, a command, something. It had to be. Pain, searing and eternal, turned the world to darkness, dragging me to what I thought was hell. I couldn't see anything, hear anything, do anything. My blood burned with the force of Inferno. I thought in a frenzy if he casted a rune on me, such was the shock that shattered me to the very core.

So I cried, no, I yelled out of pain, pain that burned me, killed me, the full effect of the curse showing its claws. My magic went down at a tremendous rate, but I was barely aware of it anymore. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. It just had to end.

The laughter stopped in a second, once the first yell of pain made its way out of my throat. He was probably attacking. And as much as I longed to feel the cold steel that so many times pierced my flesh, it never came. Instead, I felt something enwrap me, like a cocoon. It was hard to tell, the agony clouding my senses. The pressure of the knife disappeared, of that I was certain. My body, already numb from the pain, was now constricted by two threads that closed down on my chest, wrapped as close as possible to my frame. And that was pretty much the only thing I could discern. For what could've been seconds, minutes, hours or days I just stood there, shaking and trying to get a grip on myself.

And then the pain was gone, all in a sudden, only to be replaced by a cold sensation, like ice forming in my bones. I fell, gracelessly ahead, like a sack of potatoes, and if the knife would've still been there, my neck wouldn't rest today on my shoulders. However, instead of the cold ground that would've normally greet my face, I hung in midair, held there by the thread that, now I could discern, was an arm.

This time I felt it, the rune he cast on me, immobilizing the body. It wasn't painful, neither pleasant, but in a moment I discovered that it stopped my magic from dissipating. How? Sure, it still hurt, as a memory of those seconds of hell, but now my senses began to regain themself, and I took in my surroundings, again.

I realized that my eyes were closed a tad too late. Opening them, I saw at first only clouded colors, but then…Colors shaped into human silhouettes, and now four pairs of red eyes were staring at me. The assassin changed his position, from my left side to the right one, twenty meters away, one gloveless hand stretched in my direction. He seemed lost in concentration, and I realized that holding a spell for so long, while perfectly fine for a spellcaster was extremely exhausting for a blade user.

And finally there was Ahn, one arm around my waist, the other holding his scythe in the general direction of the furbacks. He wasn't frozen, I could sense it. No magic was affecting him. He noticed me coming back to reality and stopped glaring at the Assassin to watch me instead. However, his words weren't directed at me. And, as shocking as ever, he said the last thing I was expecting to hear.

"Thank you."

"I still don't believe you."

"Believe what you will. I only tell you this. If you want to get alive out of this hellhole, you will have to trust us."

"Unfortunately, you may be right. Now back to our half-dead damsel in danger, shall we?"

What? I couldn't stop a sound of disapproval emerging from my throat, finally released from the rune, the poison retaking control of the magic that regenerated a little in the few moments I was constrained. And I wasn't the only one who heard it, sadly. But I wasn't going to just sit and let it pass, quickly moving a good ten meters away from him. Now that I think more about those moments, I think the poison had some side effects, for I would've never have the courage to say what I said there.

"You dare complain? I almost had my neck cut in two because of your idiocy, sorceress! What did you want to prove there?"

"That I was poisoned, you bloody idiot! I'm sorry I don't have your oh so perfect body that can do anything, including resist Balaur poison. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but yes, I'm a sorceress, and the only reason I didn't give up earlier was that I was worried about you! I always am, but you never notice! Never care! And I'm tired! Tired of your ignorance!"

"Wh-what? Now wait a minute, calm down…"

"No! I won't calm down, not this time! And don't you dare!"

In the fit of rage I was at the moment, the Asmodians didn't cross my mind at all during my unecesary yelling. When I remembered them, it proved to be too late. The sorceress was already drawing the silencing rune with aether, her red robe flaring around like wild snakes.

And so both of us were silenced, leaving me stare at Ahnek, him staring at me, then after a few glares both turned to the assassin, demanding an explanation. He just stood there, watching us, with a palm covering his mouth, barely concealing his chuckles. Then he realized he was watched. So he decided to mock us even more.

"Troubles in paradise, pigeons?"

I opened my mouth to say something, just to find no sound emerging. The silence was still effective, even if the blonde braids of the sorceress returned to rest on her shoulders. Taking a short look, she returned to a more relaxed position, the spellbook still opened, however, her eyes weren't red anymore. They were a chocolate brown, big and containing that thirst for knowledge that, as I was told, any sorcerer possessed.

A black shadow caught my eye and, as I turned left, freeing my orb in case they tried anything, saw the priest, blue chain reflecting the fire, trying to advance to us with his staff in hand, only to be interrupted by his leader's long arm and claw that now stopped his advancement. His voice only muttered four words.

"It's too dangerous, Haradion."

"That's for me to decide. I'm not your healing pet, Maebin."

It didn't shock me that much that he spoke in Elyan. What amazed me was his voice, so deep, musical, it didn't belong to one of Asmodae's children. My own voice was too high pitched to please the ear, Ahnek's sounded cold as ice, while Maebin's (now that I learned his name) was a bit rough. This was clearly a Chanter, with voice like molten silk.

Haradion pushed Maebin's arm away, making slow, but deliberate steps toward me. I risked a glance at Ahn, that stared back with his head tuned birdlike to one side, as to say 'I'm just as confused as you. No idea what's going on.' so I moved in a defensive stance and decided to observe.

The chanter was closing in, his black mane switching left and right, but the poison already reentered my system and I couldn't see the black shapes on his blue chains. When he entered my 25 meter radius, I tried to lift a Stone Skin shield, stretched my hands and formed the sigil, but as expected it was a failure and instead, I just lost my balance. At the last moment, I regained myself and stood as rigid as I could. In response, he just lifted one palm in the international surrender sign.

"Calm down. I'm not coming with any malicious intention. You're poisoned. Let me take a look."

"How do I know yo-you're n-not planning a-an attack?"

I was blabbering. Shit.

"You're losing consciousness."

He was confident now advancing faster, almost running. My last attempt at resistance was a stretched arm, that knitted in his raven hair the second he made contact with me. I cannot afford to lack vigilance. No matter how much I might yearn to. And that was my last coherent thought, before I fell into sweet oblivion.

This chapter is dedicated to Ahnek, who after some problems, went out to study people and other legions. But he'll be back. Unfortunately, I can't say the same about others who left after the recent turmoil. Hope to see ya guys back on chat soon! And yes, after almost a month of not writing, I'm back and I'm terified about the quality of the first chapter. It's horrible. I'm amazed you gave this a chance, and my deepest thanks go to you. On 6th september is my Bday and most likely, I'll be gone on 6 and 7 with my friend for a ritual to celebrate my new age. Thanks, Ann! That of course means no writing, but don't worry! It'll be ready in about a month or even less. To Embun who said she wanted more romance, the hints are there. I agree with Ayyarin, so I'll place only hints here and there as I really don't want to screw this up.

Until next time, walk in Ariel's light and Asphel's shadow! And for the asmo RPers on Isra, I keep looking for you in Kamar and you simply aren't there! Cmon, guys, I need asmos to make vids with.