The Thieves forest is an amazingly beautiful place. In the summer, the leaves are out on the canopy of the forest, the moons light flickered through them, giving them a blue quality that filtered down through the eaves to the people below. Sneaky business transactions take place among the dancing, the music of gypsies, the stories of thieves and assassins. Fire pits roar with flames all night, and liquor is readily available to any thirsty mouth.

That's at night, and in the summer. During the day, in the early spring, the ground is full of mud. The sun's harsh rays cut past the bare branches of the bone like-branches, leaving cracks of shadow upon the ground.

You're quite poetic.

“Quiet, you.” I muttered. The thieves village was mostly empty, save for a few recovering drunks from the night before rolling around in the dirt. “Or I'll drink until you feel the hangover.”

Could you drink that much? I won't leave you alone until you return the stone.

“I'll learn to ignore you.” However, even as I said that, I felt the beginnings of a bad headache begin to throb on my skull. I rubbed my temples a moment.

“Cursed sun.” I muttered. However, I was thankfully where I needed to be. The only real pub in the thieves village: Sanda's place.

Only one in the village, because you killed off all the others.

“It was a job. Besides, I only killed two. The others left for some unknown reason.” Though in truth, that reason was me. I walked into the dark and dingy pub. Sanda was sitting at the counter, eating some form of burnt meat, and drinking from a tankard. When she heard the door open, she glanced up.

“Stiri!” She cried. She stood up, and took a bottle of wine from the counter behind her. She had long, straight brown hair, and wore a long, billowing gown under a loose-fitting cloak. It was probably a good idea, since a lot of the dolts who came here and got drunk tried to grope anything that even looked like it had breasts.

Truthfully, she didn't need to worry about that now. All those kinds were recovering from their well paid for headaches.

I sat down at the counter as she passed me a drink.

Free drinks?

“Thanks.” I said. I raised a glass to her. She poured her own tankard and toasted me.

“Hey, least I can do for competent help. I hired someone to watch the pub a few nights week, and he steals hlaf my good wine! Who would have thought I'd find so many thieves around here..”

I snickered. “Indeed.” I said with a weak smirk. I slid onto the wooden stool near the bar, which rattled dangerously a moment. Sanda had her own, special stool behind the bar, which she hid away when she wasn't there. Stools tended to get thrown around a lot in here.

She sat down. “So, what brings you here?” She asked. “You don't usually come about in the day, and don't you usually spend your winters in the capital? I was expecting it to be a while before I saw you again.”

“Travel plans changed. Thought I would take in the mountains.”

She laughed deeply. “That's not you. You hate the mountains, you hate the mountain village-”

That's why you let it burn.

“Not because I hated it.” I said. I had become almost reflex to answer Kathryn's voice instantly. Sanda, of course couldn't hear it, so she looked at me strangely.

“What? What's because you hated it?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. The mountain village burned.”

“... And you burned it down...Because you hated it?”

shook my head. “There may have been a mishap, which lead to widespread burning, but I didn't try to set it on fire.”

“Did many die?”

Yes.

My headache worsened. I leaned on the bar and gently massaged my temples. “I think so. I don't know for sure.” I stopped and rested my head in my hands. “Tell me... Do you remember when you said you came across that ruined village some time ago?”

“When I first came to this village?” She asked. “Yes, of course. I told everyone, but no one believed me.”

“Tell me again? I can't recall properly.”

She shrugged. “I suppose there's really not all that much to tell. I think I told it better when I was scared though. I got lost on my way, and went in to deep into the forest. I came across a village that was leveled to the ground, save for one house. I went in, seeking shelter. However, inside, there was a person, with skin like dust, and glowing yellow eyes.” She shuddered. “I came back here, but no one believed me.”

“I think I would like to see this for myself.” I said slowly. “To be blunt, I have to take something from the village. I was told there's a village, in which one man lives. This man has an item I need to steal. Good price on his head too.”

“Don't know. I don't think he was a man. What if he was a ghost, or...” her voice lowered. “A necromancer?”

I shuddered involuntarily. Thankfully, I've never come across a necromancer, but it's one of those things you wish to avoid. If I had been hired to destroy a necromancer, I think I would have passed. I'm not that stupid. Necromancers make you suffer a lot before, and after you die. They are the things of horror stories. Thankfully, there has not been word of one in the kingdom since the terrible Aleni.

She's right though. I don't think you should go. And not only because you have the stone, I think it's too dangerous.

“I'll be fine.” I said slowly. “Do you remember where the village is?”

“It's North-east of here. Leave...Oh, say tomorrow morning, and you'll get there before dark. If I were you, I would leave at night, and get there in the day. No, I take that back. If I were you, I wouldn't go at all. It's scary place, and a normal man's eyes don't glow.

She doesn't know a Magus when she sees one. You shouldn't go.

“It's a job, and I've accepted. I'll go.” I said slowly. Kathryn was talking to much, and my headache was getting worse and worse. It was like liquid flame running through my skull, while a dagger was slowly twisted into my temples, and hot coals appeared behind my eyes.

I moaned, and rested my eyes in my head.

“Are you alright, Stiri?”

“Yeah.”

Listen to me. You are in no state to deal with him. Had you your friends, you would be but-

“I think you should rest a few days. You don't seem well”

Alone as you are, you will only suffer. You mind isn't even capable of dealing with the power of another Magus.

“Of course not.”

“You are well, then?”

“Yes”

No, you're not.

“I don't know, I don't think you're well, you look a little sick.”

You mind is to fragile to deal with his power.

“I'm fine!” I shouted. I slammed my forehead in my hands and clutched at my pounding head. When the pain only worsened, I let my hands slide to the back of my head. I rested my forehead on the counter, my head was caught between my arms.

After a moment, the throbbing began to ebb away. I let my hands rest gently on the back on my neck a moment. It was only then that I realized that the room was silent. I rested a moment more, loath to look up into the bright room before me. Slowly, I took my hands off my neck, and rested them on the bar. I brushed my tangled hair out of my face, and tried as best as I could to tuck it behind my ears.

“... Stiri.. Your fingers...”

I looked down, and realized that there was blood on my fingers. Gently, I touched the back of my head, and felt several little cuts within my hair.

I cursed under my breath, and drank some wine. “Headache.”

“A bad one. Maybe you should rest.”

“I'm fine now.” I said. I took another careful sip of wine, and rested my head between my hands. A moment later, there was a cold cloth pressed to my head. I jolted, and looked up. Sanda was holding it to my head.

“Take it.” She said softly. “I've not seen you sick a day...”

I grunted, and pressed the cloth to my forehead with the palms of my head. It was cool, and it felt good.

“...Do you need help? There's a doctor nearby that owes me a favor..”

I shook my head. “Just let me rest in here a moment.” I opened my eyes, and cringed as light attacked them. “Can you shut the light out.”

She left from behind the counter, and I heard her go about the room, covering the windows with thick cloth curtains. A moment later, she came back to the bar. Faint gray still light ebbed through the room.

“You can stay here the night if you wish.” She said. I shook my head. “It's perhaps not wise to travel, being so ill.”

“I'll be fine. The sooner I have the... The sooner I do what I need to... the sooner I'll be fine..”

Gently she rested her hand on my shoulder. I jerked away, and she didn't try again. “Are you under a curse?”

I chuckled, then groaned as my own laugh pierced my mind. “You could say that.”

Bring back the rock, and this will stop.

cringed again, and clutched my head. I breathed a moment, and waited for the pain to ebb away.

Do you need anything? I'll help you... I'll go with you if you want.”

I shook my head. “No. Stay here. It's not going to be too difficult.”

***

Walking through the forest was terrible. Dawn and Night never would have been able to make it through, so I had to leave them with Sanda. The ground was too soft and muddy, it was raining. Night passed that way, but it was made all the more terrible by the headache, that worsened with every word Kathryn spoke into my mind. My only peace were the few times that she left me alone to care for the wounded. Even then the headache persisted until I felt sick to my stomach with the pain. Further in the forest, I wandered, tripping over exposed roots, and cringing at every light.

Then I reached the village.

Thankfully, there was a limited amount of trees within the village, and they were all rather small. The remains of houses lay scattered about, mostly overgrown with moss or grass. Small creatures scattered about in the setting sun as the shadows of trees grew longer and stretched out.

In the middle of the impressive ruins was one house. The wildlife seemed to have grown around it, rather than through it like it had in the rest of the ruins. A tree grew from the side of the house, while the rest was well covered in grass.

I unsheathed my dagger, and walked up to the house. The door was permanently opened, held in place by growing, flourishing plants.

Don't go in there.

I walked into the small shack. It was a one room house. with nothing inside save for an empty, cold fireplace, and a man sitting before it in an old chair. He was covered in old, worn blankets, and on his lap, there was a book. His eyes glowed yellow as he gazed into the pages of the book. but faded as he noticed me and looked up. His face was covered in wrinkles, reminiscent of tree bark. His hair, or rather, what remained of his hair hung around his face like cobwebs.

“Child.” he said, “I have not seen another person in this part of these woods in a very long time. Why are you here?” His voice was raspy, deep and tired.

I walked up to him. “I'm here for the book, old man.” I said. “That book in your hands.”

He looked down at the book before him and laughed. “You don't want this book. Do you even know what it does?”

“I don't.” I admitted, “But I'll take it all the same. It is not for me to use.”

“You have my pendant as well.” He said

“Lord Necanda took it from you before he had it?”

The man sighed. “It's passed through many hands, and all of them have met a bloody end.”

“They have. That pendant has brought nothing but misfortune upon any who have held it. Ice is a merciless master, cold, unfeeling, it transforms all those who use it. They are either bent to it's ways, and made ice, or rebel against it and perish. I never should have made it.”

“You didn't make it.” I said, “Any child in the kingdom knows that it was made by the first Magus.”

“And who do you think I am?”

The old man lifted his face from his book, and looked over at me. his face had the slightest tint of olive green to it. much like those who had grown up on the Cyclades. Various scars decorated his wrinkled, worn old face, but his eyes still burned, deep, black flames.

“I am the first Magus.”

“The first Magus died,” I spat, “The power that spewed forth from the shattered moon destroyed him in mind and body. His spirit wanders in the underworld, tormented by demons for releasing chaos on the land and sinking us into a thousand years of darkness simply because his greed led him to listen to the demon trapped inside.”

The old man sighed, “A false story,” he said. “Told by those who managed to overcome the darkness that covered the world. Told by those wished to demonize me. Told by those who sought to destroy me fully. No, that is not the real story. I will tell you the real story. Rather, I will show you the real story.

With a slow, shaking movement, he lifted his hand. “My body may be weak, but my power... My power is greater than any other.

From his fingertips shot five bolts of night, and within those bolts were stars and suns and moon, glittering and spinning. They struck the walls of the dilapidated old cottage and sunk the rotten wood into the depth of night. I floated, alone in this mass.

Before I could worry that I had been sent to a realm from which there was no escape, the moon rose above me, bright and full. It grew larger, and greater, blotting out the pale light of the stars until the sky was empty of stars. My feet landed on grass that seemed blue in the light of this great, monster moon. Its light rivaled the sun, and all the life on the ground basked in its beauty. White flowers grew and shimmered like the moon that I was used to seeing. Silver-winged butterflies soared from flower to flower, drinking their nectar.

Be careful.

Before me, there was a small house. It was built of stone, but not the stones that castles are made of, not the dingy, rough grey stones I was used to. Its stones were pale, rounded, and light blue. They were held together with a kind of glittering substance.

“You have seen the Luda on the great southern island? On Raxos?” The old man's voice whispered in my ear. I turned but didn't see him

“No. I've never been there.”

“The Luda are built with great, massive stones that the ancient people of the island pulled from the bottom of the ocean after the moon was set back to rights. Before the moon was shattered, however, this was the kind of stone that the people of the island used to make their houses. These great stones were found on the shores, and brought inland to build houses of red, blue, yellow and pink. This blue house was mine.”

I looked around, searching for the old man, but there was nothing there. I sheathed my dagger and walked up to the stone house. I was lost, and likely under the Magus' control. Not only that, I was curious as to what was here. What was the Magus showing me? Foster used to tell me to deny my curiosity, because often it would lead me to dangerous places. However, I was already in a dangerous place, it couldn't get worse .

The door of the house was blocked off with a long, thick heavy cloth. I moved my hand to push it away, but my hand passed thought it.

“This is an... illusion?”

“Yes. A lost art in Magus' of today, save for warping their pitiful faces to seem more attractive.”

I walked through the cloth and came to the other side.

The house was small. In the middle of the house was a stone table with a small fire-pit in the middle of it. Wooden benches rounded the table. A man sat at the table, fixing a beaded necklace while a woman, very late with child sat on the floor on top of piles of cloths.

The man tied the beads together and brought them to the woman. Silently, he dropped the beads over her neck.

“Thank you, Kara.” she said, “I'm ready for the child to come now.”

The man smiled. “The child should be healthy. Though it's difficult, you've walked to the temple every day since you've known to sacrifice. You've eaten that bitter soup each day, and now you have the finest set of birthing beads every created. You will be fine.”

“I'm worried about the trip,” the woman said, “Each time I've walked to the temple, it's been with you. I... I don't think I can make it on my own when the pains come.”

“You must!” The man said. “It's Law, it's Rule, it's Tradition. If you don't show your strength, if you don't suffer, the gods may think you don't desire the child. They will think you will not sacrifice anything for it. They will think you unfit, and they will take it away from you.”

“Other woman have been led to the temple steps by kara. You could do the same.”

The man snorted. “Those women have their children only by the grace of the gods. We are strong, and true followers of the gods, you will travel alone, as tradition dictates.

The fire dimmed before me, and the house was cast in darkness. I heard rain outside. The scream broke through the house. A flash of lightning broke though the darkness, and illuminated the scene. The man and woman lay on the floor, side by side. The woman clutched at her stomach.

“The pains!” she cried. “And it's raining. I'll never make it to the temple!”

“Yes you will!” The man said. He stood up and helped the woman up. “You will make it because we are loyal to the god. We are faithful. Even if you slip, the god will catch you and help you up.”

The woman stumbled to her feet, screamed, and nearly fell as another pain took her. “I won't make it!” She cried. She fell to her knees and grabbed the man's leg. “Please, lead me to the temple.”

The man leaned over and slapped the crying woman. She stopped, and looked at the man in shock.

“You doubt the gods? You doubt you will be preserved? Leave now, go to the temple through the storm to prove that you are faithful. The storm is a test, and if you don't manage through it, you, the baby, or both will die.”

Silently, the woman rose to her feet, and stumbled out into the rain. Her screams were heard over the rumbling thunder. The man kneeled on all fours on the floor and prayed.

The world ebbed and swirled. The ground beneath my feet shuddered and heaved, the walls of the house melted away and the rain faded. The sky burned brightly with the sun. I was outside,standing next to the man before a small stream. The man stared intently, silently into the running stream. I cast my gaze over the running water. Laying, sprawled over the rocks was the woman, dead, her large stomach greying and still.

I blinked, and the scene had changed again. In the center of a great red stone temple, the woman lay upon a alter. Her the baby lay in her arms, a large cut on her stomach showing that it had been cut out. Strange herbs burned from stone bowls. Before me, the man sat on the stone floor, his hands against the alter.

I heard something behind me. I turned, and saw another man approaching. he walked up to the mourning man, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

“Through pain, we are made strong.” He said, “The gods must care very much for you if they want you to be so strong.”

The man clenched his hands upon the alter, and stumbled to his feet.

“Strong?” he gasped. “I am strong.” He stood upright and looked down at the dead woman. “I was strong. Strong enough to push her out into the rain. Strong enough to stay behind, even though I was worried. Strong enough to believe the god would protect her. But they didn't. Now she's dead, my son is dead, and I? What do I have?”

“You did your duty to the gods. You have that knowledge to comfort yourself, and know that you did everything desired of you. Either she erred, or it was destined she die. It was the gods' will, the gods' plan.”

“The gods' plan, is it?” the man snapped. He turned his back on the woman, and stormed past the other man, without looking at him. “If this is the gods plan, then I want none of it. The gods will do as they please, with my obedience, or without.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I deny the gods!” The man yelled, his voice echoing through the temple. “I want nothing to do with a god who would do such a thing to his own follower, just so that they could be strong. I've been strong all my life, and this is how I am treated by our gods? No. I want no part of it.”

The other man bowed his head. The lights in the temple when out, and the moon suddenly glowed overhead, pouring its bright, silver light over the earth. The man stood, facing a crowd who all hand rocks in their hands.

“Leave this place, betrayer.” The man from the temple said, “We will not have our village smote because of you.”

“Smote? Smote! Look at yourselves! You adore pain, shun pleasure, and just accept the terrible things that happen either as your own fault, or because you think the gods try to help you! It's not-”

“We'll not have one more word of your treachery. Leave this place, and never return.

The man turned, and walked away into a great, wide field. I looked around, but the crowd holding rocks was gone.

The man fell to his knees and sobbed. He cried out to the skies, and cursed the names of ancient beings that passed though my mind as unintelligible.

Finally, he slammed his fists upon the ground. Into the silver moonlight, I heard him whisper, “What have I done? Why did all this happen?”

The voice came though the skies, clearer than the light of the moon, more beautiful than the the clearest sky. “These things have happened through no fault of your own.”

The man sat up, terrified, and looked around. He wiped the tears off his cheeks with his hands. “Who's there?”

“These things have happened through no fault of your own. You are mortal, you are human. Your power is limited by the limitations set on you by the gods. They feared the real power, and entrapped me, the key to real control, to real power. Unleash my power, let me give you power, let me give all mankind the power to shape the world to your own desires. Strike back at the gods for leaving you with such limited magics, with such miserable lives.”

“Foul demon! Who are you!”

“I am not a demon. I am the One-eyed goddess, and I want to help you. Free me and I shall give you the power to cure sickness, heal the wounded, and even bring the dead back to life.

“...Where are you?”

“Entrapped in the perfect orb of the moon.”

The world blurred. The light of the moon faded from my eyes, and I was lost in a world of darkness. The voice of the old man reached me.

“Do you see. That is the real story. Not the shallow tale told to your young.”

“The darkness faded from my vision, and slowly, my eyes adjusted to the small shack that the old man sat in.

“Why did you tell me this?” I hissed. “What was the point'?”

“Your one sided-view sickened me,” The old man said. “There was a lot of injustice that led me to listen to the voice in the moon, that led me to shatter it into tiny fragments. Also, telling you the story was a way to distract you while I bound you in my own power.

I shook my head to rid myself of the remaining dizziness, and looked at myself. My limbs were held in place by great tendrils of shining light. I struggled, but couldn't move.

“You bastar-” the tendrils covered me from head to toe, and bound me entirely. After a moment. the tendrils loosened, and I was freed from their grasp, but I was trapped in a golden orb.

“Do you know what happened to me when I shattered the moon? Do you know why none come this deep into these woods, especially the Magus? Do you know why Kos himself refuses to journey here?”

I tried to yell at him, but I had no voice. The glowing orb took my voice from me. The Magus laughed as I grasped my throat, shocked.

“I'll believe that to mean you do not.” He closed his eyes, and sat back in the chair. There was a great heaving noise as the walls of the house were torn down by the branches of great trees. They reached their branches overhead, and formed a great dome. Their roots rose out of the ground and devoured all evidence of the cottage.

“I desired the power to fix things.” The Magus said, “I desired to bring my family back to life. I desired to win back my friends and family, my village, my people by curing them of all their pains, all their sickness. We would lose the moon, but we would all gain peaceful, immortal life! However, the power that came forth from the moon was too much for me, and it wasn't until it was sealed up again that I gained back my rational thoughts. By that time, hundreds of years had passed, and thought I had not let myself die, I had not been able to protect myself from the ravages of age. I could scarce remember my old form, I could not remember my old name. I awoke in this forest to see the Goddess, once more trapped behind this terrible excuse of a moon, and I did not have strength of body to bring her back. Her power is still here, but I feel it resting, sleeping. The currents she stirred up in the minds of men settle to the bottom of the river of our life, and I can do nothing to prevent it.”

The roots formed a perfect floor, and the branches moved to form long windows, showing the entire kingdom, looking down on the tallest tower in Rawlin's Keep.

From the floor and walls, many roots of the ancient trees of the forest raced out towards me and broke through the glowing orb. The orb shattered like glass, but I was held, my arms and legs trapped.

“Tell me, boy, do you know what the power of Necromancy is?”

“Necromancy.” I repeated, my voice a whisper

“Magi,” the Magus said, “are able to release themselves from their form fully once it had passed. An understanding of the forces of the world allows that, and keeps us from being subject to the horrors of the demons of the underworld. Our minds without bodies are nearly powerless. Nearly, but not quite.

“A Necromancer is a Magus who, after death, attached his mind to a dead human body, using it until it was destroyed. However, I cannot accomplish what I wish to do with a dead body. The one-eyed Goddess. wouldn't accept that. Nor can I cling to your body, and contend with your mind bothering in my own.”

He lifted his hands, and sent towards me thin tendrils of black smoke. “So, what I intend to do is force you to lose your mind. I will make your body an empty shell, and then I shall let my own body die. Your form will be a new shell for me. The shell that Kos' should have been.”

“.. Should have-?”

“Over three hundred years ago, I taught a small child in the woods how to understand the world, and how to use magic. I would not have a form that has never worked the world to its will. However, he let his power overtake him, and he destroyed his village, and left, never coming back. I had planned to make him my shell once he got older. However, since he is not here, you will have to do.”

He let the tendril wrap around my skull. “Farewell, assassin.”

A great piercing went through my mind. I heard Kathryn scream, and her voice fade as though it were fleeing into the distance. I felt an a icy chill reach into every corner of my thoughts, my memories, my dreams as though they were real things. Like a child throwing a tantrum, the Magus rushed though my mind and threw things about, crashing them to the ground as though they were nothing, examining them, and discarding them uselessly into my mind.

I saw a small child, stealing apples to bring home to his insane mother.

I saw a woman, laying on the floor, bleeding from wounds she had given herself with shards of a broken mirror.

Myself, sitting with Christen and Rico around the fire.

Foster, his neck breaking.

A tree with flowers the likes of which I had not seen before.

A pregnant woman standing before me, white dress shining like silver in the moonlight.

Countless images, feelings, thoughts raced through my mind, flowing through my skull as the terrible Magus worked to wreck me.

“I'll have you plagued by the demons of your past.” The Magus whispered. “I'll break you, and when I take your body I'll first sweep up the shattered remains of you mind and throw them to the winds.

I scarcely heard him. I heard a woman screaming, I heard men sobbing for their lives. Laughter rang through my ears, the sound of storms, of wind, of the ocean, of flames. The stench of blood and wild-flowers wafted past my nose as I saw a black bird walking in the sun, its feathers shining like gems. I heard Christen's voice, a scream in my ears. I felt flames rush past me, the feeling of falling, the feeling of wood against my skin as the image of a slain horse faded from my eyes. The tendrils receded, and my senses were relieved of the relentless attack.

The Magus sat before me, looking down at me. The orb I had been caught in was gone, and I lay on the wooden floor. Flames licked the walls of the mighty dome, but the Magus seemed to ignore them.

“Are you still there, Assassin?” The Magus whispered. Christen was over me, holding me up off the floor and into her arms.

“What did you do to him!” she demanded. My heart fluttered, and sank. These were all illusions, nothing real. I had passed the time of simple memories and senses. The Magus was done destroying my mind. This illusion proved it. Exhausted, tired, I lay on the floor, staring up at the illusion. Christen, Rico. If only they were both here now. They would have warned me about the Magus. They would have told me... They would have told me how dangerous it would have been. Had I told them my plans from that start, I wouldn't be laying on the ground, defeated. But how could I still think? How was my mind now silent. Perhaps I only needed to be distracted by illusions. Or maybe I only thought I could think clearly. Maybe the very thoughts going though my skull were not sensible.

“What have you done to him!” She cried. I tried to speak, but my voice was caught in my throat.

“To him? I have only shattered his mind, leaving the shell that lays before me. Now.” He lifted his hands, and gave a mighty scream. His body fell limp. A ball of flames shot overhead and consumed his body. From the smoking remains, a bright green light glimmered, and then fell over me.

I felt the Magus in my mind. A weak and desperate spirit, protected by years of powers. His mind, already touched with insanity. I felt the insanity, brushing up against my thoughts. His essence tried to overcome my mind, like a swamp pulling a leaf into it.

“No.”

The word came through my head. I didn't want him to take over my mind, my body. With his new powers, he would likely kill Christen and Rico first. “No, you can't”

His voice came though my skull. “How can this be? Your mind should be broken.”

“My mind... is not broken?” The words cut through the quagmire and pulled me away from the essence. I pushed him away from my mind. Without his body, his mind was frail and weak.

By my thoughts, I repelled him. I don't know what I was doing, but I repelled him, pushed him away from me mentally. He screamed in my skull.

“No! I will not let this happen! I will not be lost!”

“This is my mind, my body. I won't let you take it.”

“Let me. What do you have left? A swift death.”

“I've been offered great rewards.”

“I saw the great rewards as I threw your pathetic memories about. You will be as good as dead after he has taken your memories. Your memories make you who you are, allow you to enjoy, or hate things. Erase the memories, and you will indeed erase your sufferings, but your joys, your pleasures, everything that makes you yourself will be gone, and Kos will reshape you as he wants you. You will be no better in his hands than you will be in mine.”

I repelled him again, and his essence gave up its solidarity. It passed through mine. I saw in my mind the entire age of the old Magus in a matter of moments. I was told what he understood, but understanding escaped me. I understood Ice, but my power was weak because my mind was unused to wielding the power of magic. The Goddess did not give magic to humans, but brought our minds to sudden understanding. The insanity and the power that coursed through the world, the power of countless insane mages created the Night of Chaos, and without my memories, I was indeed as good as dead.

Then he was gone.

I gave a gasp, a cry as my mind surfaced back to the real world. I was laying on the floor of the burning wooden palace. Rico ran over, and helped Christen pull me up.

“Stiri! Can you walk?”

“I... you're?” Were they really there? Was I insane after all, just not enough for the Magus to take my mind.

“Take Stiri out of there.” Rico said, “I'll stop the flames.”

Christen pulled me a short distance. My head spun, then I fell unconscious.