Thank you reviewers for the kind words you have left since the last chapter. You may all thank Teagan Leigh for giving me a reminder that I need to review the outline and get another chapter out.

Thank you Aereal for answering the persistent emails where I demanded you sort out my muddled thoughts on the plot.

Kristen Britain owns all, and I acknowledge that I have borrowed her characters to write a sappy piece of fanfiction that will never ever come true in the series.

The king kept a carefully schooled expression on the road ahead of him but did not make conversation with Fastion. He had barely uttered a word since they had departed camp outside of Corsa nearly two days ago, and when needed, only issued short and terse commands. The barely restrained energy that he had displayed prior had now seemingly disappeared.

The Weapon shifted uneasily in his saddle as he glanced sideways at his liege. There were noticeable shadows underneath the king's eyes and his complexion had taken on a slight ashen color, but there was no trace of emotion in his countenance as he grimly steered his mount forward.

Fastion cast his gaze about the forest they were passing through as his mind went off into many directions. But all trails of thought led back to one bottom line: that his king would be of no use to anyone if his queen should not survive.

A loud crack and heavy thump sounded in the austere woodland, prompting the horses to shy away nervously from the noise. Nothing followed for the moments afterwards. The Weapon peered about the forest with his keen eyesight and some tension left his body as he waved his hand in a downward motion to the others, as it was just a heavy branch falling to the earth.

Several hands removed themselves from the pommels of their blades and relaxed back at their sides, but a sense of anxiety remained as they trod on. In the fair weather they had been experiencing that summer, it would only take a matter of a couple short weeks to reach Sacor City. In that intervening time, it would be all too easy for a small band of Mornhavon's soldiers or any other sort of brigand to hamper their progress. And time was a luxury that they did not have.

A puff of breeze stirred the air a few hours later into their travel, well past the time when they ought to have chosen a site for the night. Zachary's eyes flickered upwards for a fraction of a moment, before widening, and prompting the king to bellow, 'Clear a path! Off the road!'

Men and their steeds hastily scampered off the beaten road, mere seconds before a shadow passed over their heads and landed heavily where they had stood. The regal head of a sea dragon shook his ruff vigorously and straightened as he recovered from his landing. The beast stood at least fifty feet high and was of a deep aquamarine color, interspersed with a pearly trail that ran up the webbing of his delicate wings. He rolled his shoulders and arched his back with a hiss, nearly displacing the ornate leather harness atop his back, and that of the Lady Yolandhe. She clutched onto a strap at his movement, scowling with indignation, 'Jormun, you great lummox, would you have a care?'

Jormun snorted and folded his forearms down to allow her to climb down, 'Tis a cramped space, that you insisted we land in.'

She straightened her clothing and tossed her head, 'Even so, you could wait until I was off before performing your own convoluted idea of calisthenics.'

Zachary had dismounted and handed the reins to one of the others, approaching the arguing pair cautiously, 'My lady?'

Lady Yolandhe turned her gaze upon the king with a look of barely concealed disdain, 'You.'

The king's expression was of confusion and slight apprehension, 'Aye, my lady, how is it that you came upon us so soon?'

It was here that Jormun interjected dryly, 'As it were Firebrand, we were given little choice, having to chase you down before you did something foolish. The scent of the horseflesh is not so hard to track after all.'

The lady scoffed and strode towards him with no little measure of fury, 'He has the right of it. Was this really the best that you and the minds of your council in Corsa could come up with? Sneaking into Sacor City with a handful of Weapons, against the magic of a possessed pirate, who by all accounts has quite the body count stacking up in your castle? Stupid on all accounts.'

Zachary's eyes flashed, 'I would not be so foolish as to think this party alone could go against him. I had hoped to apply to the Eletians for help.'

Yolandhe rolled her eyes, 'And how long would that take you, hmm? You are operating on the assumption that they are eagerly awaiting your arrival at the tunnel entrance. Clever the Eletians may be, but they certainly are not mind readers!'

'And cannot they not, with all their sensitivity to the land, feel the changes that have been wrought?' Zachary shot back, his color high.

'Aye, that they can, but rather hard to pinpoint their source,' she explained with a sigh. 'You would have done better waiting on me, lad, but now that we are this far out, we best had make plans to do this properly.'

Fastion made the supreme effort to not cringe at the use of "lad" but was somewhat relieved that help had arrived in some form. The king had bent his head attentively to the Lady Yolandhe as she gestured animatedly between herself and Jormun. The rest of his entourage carefully crept back onto the road but gave the sea dragon a respectful distance, as their mounts skittered nervously nearby.

The conference ended a few short minutes later with the king calling Fastion over in a steady voice. He quickly went over the change in plans, citing that he would travel with Lady Yolandhe to the Eletian borders. Alone.

Fastion immediately stiffened and voiced his protest, 'Sire, I do not doubt the intentions of the Lady Yolandhe or the honorable dragon Jormun, but you cannot possible go to the border of a foreign nation without some form of protection!'

'Peace, warrior, for protection he will have. I pledge to protect the Firebrand on this journey,' Jormun murmured with a slight bow of his head.

Fastion still looked troubled at being parted from his liege, prompting Zachary to gently take him by the arm and steer him a few footsteps away for privacy. 'The lady was right,' he admitted quietly, 'This was foolish of me to set out in this manner, despite those who tried to advise me otherwise. Traveling with Jormun's speed, I can seek help we need while you lead the others to the tunnels.'

The Weapon sighed, his countenance unusually marred with distress, 'And what is it you think the Eletians will be able to do?'

Zachary was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, 'His soldiers in the castle are . . . not men anymore. They are something twisted, stronger and capable of more damage than we could account for. It is my hope that the tiendan can hold their own against them, for I would need to isolate Lord Amberhill . . . Mornhavon in order to set in motion the lady's plan.'

'He can be stopped then?'

The king sighed and rubbed at his face, 'Perhaps . . . perhaps the stone he wears can affect a change. Long enough for us to strike and move Karigan out of danger.'

Fastion's brow furrowed as he recollected the early conversations with his liege and queen, before the battle for Corsa. 'This stone, it gives Mornhavon power?'

'It gave his spirit the opportunity to wedge itself into Amberhill's consciousness, but it can be used once more to eject him from Amberhill's mind and body,' the king replied wearily.

Fastion glanced over at the Lady Yolandhe, who had climbed onto Jormun's back and was now adjusting the harness to compensate for two as she conversed quietly with her dragon companion. He blinked and turned his gaze back to Zachary, shaking his head as he scuffed the dirt road with his boot. 'When did these matters get so complicated?'

Zachary gave a shadow of a smile, 'When a certain Rider entered our lives.'

The loyal Weapon returned the smile with a grimace of his own and straightened with resolve, 'Then sire, we had best get you on your way.'

Zachary's brows arched, 'You are allowing me to leave with no more fuss?'

Fastion shrugged a shoulder, 'Technically I do not have a say in the matter and I am not inclined to argue with the lady. Or her dragon.' He remarked with some dryness. 'Just get back to us in one piece and with some Eletian warriors in tow.'

The king nodded solemnly and took Fastion's hand in a firm grip, 'I intend to. I'll see you there.'

Am thinking of putting this up on An Archive of Our Own