Gossamer watched from a distance as Kelton moved like a willow in the wind. The swords were extensions of his arms as if his hands were a second elbow allowing the blades to cut through the air at odd angles. His form was nothing like Gossamer had taught him, much less seen. The speed, the spinning, and the risk of losing a leg were incredible to watch. No one could stand before such an onslaught, and yet Gossamer recognized it for what it was; a mere morning ritual. The truth of Kelton defeating the Brethren was no longer in any doubt.

"Incredible, is it not?" Hector said as he moved alongside Gossamer.

"Magnificent," Serenity added, coming alongside Hector.

"Well met, Hector," Gossamer said with a nod of his head. "Serenity," he added with a deeper nod. Serenity smiled back, challenging the beauty of the coming sunrise.

"He says it can be taught," Hector said. Gossamer saw the desire for the skill in Hector's eyes.

"I had heard you traveled with Kelton, yet I did not see you last night," Gossamer said.

"I thought it best the reunion was savored without...complication," Serenity said. "It is clear he cherishes you."

Gossamer sighed, then decided to speak without fog between them. "I have been told you are the last-of-the-line."

"Aye, as my mother told me, and her mother before her."

"She speaks the truth," Hector added. There was no hesitance in his eyes or hers.

"And he has chosen another," Gossamer said, looking back at the blades cutting down imaginary foes. The patterns were enchanting, as was the danger of it.

"Aye, a cursed," Serenity said. Gossamer's eyes snapped back to her. She smiled in apology. "A description only, not an admonishment. But do not blame me if I see her as an impediment for what must be."

"The Answer and the last-of-the-line are foretold," Hector said, with a more diplomatic air. "It is best the Goddess' words are heeded."

Gossamer recognized that this meeting was not by chance. They meant to catch him alone and steer him toward the story as if he would willingly stand between Kelton's desire.

"It is an old tale." Gossamer let a soft smile appear, the one that gave him a wisp of wisdom. He used it often to enhance his tellings. "The true meaning of the words has long been lost. Mayhap, your part in this differs from what you envision." He looked at Hector. "Mayhap, sacrifice is not Serenity's purpose." That sparked interest in Hector, a thread Gossamer could pull at to weaken their plans. He recognized Hector's fondness for Serenity when they first met long ago. It would be easier to convince Hector than Serenity that stories are myths, and to live by their words is a useless thing, or dangerous.

"Three have fallen, and I have seen the beast's marks," Serenity said. Her voice was smooth as a song as she watched Kelton. "The words are as they should be, as true as the day they were spoken." There was something akin to love in her eyes, but it was not what Gossamer had seen in Juno's. Something was missing, perhaps respect, as if she thought Kelton belonged to her, and he had little choice in the matter. "I have but one purpose, and he dances before me."

"I fear that purpose cares not for your designs, Serenity," Gossamer said, deciding truth held more power then subtle words. "If you desire a friend, you will find none more loyal. Fight him, and those blades might not find only air."

Serenity laughed. "You sound like...what is her name?"

"Sanlina," Hector replied, with an exhausted roll of his eyes.

"Ah, aye, the other cursed." Serenity spoke the word cursed as if it were humorous, or a title for fools. She looked at Hector. "Though, I think she spoke of her blade, did she not?"

"It is not a game, Serenity," Hector said, his voice and face full of concern.

"Nay, it is not," Gossamer said, his patience running low. "Long ago, a red-haired boy would have lopped off his arm for a whisper from you. That moment has left. The man sees only Juno. Step between them, and you will find yourself alone with me as an enemy."

"He is a man, old man," Serenity said with a grunt. Hector grabbed her wrist as if he expected her to strike with it. "Men's desires can be changed. I have but one duty, and I was born to it."

"It is best if we end this," Hector said to Serenity.

Gossamer smiled to diffuse Serenity's anger. "I do not doubt your beauty or your ability to move a man's eyes. You are the brightest of flowers, of that no one can deny. I only speak the truth of Kelton's heart, nothing more." Serenity looked confused, her anger fading.

"Mayhap, we can talk again," Hector said as he began to pull Serenity away. "Less about the tale next time."

"Aye, I would like that," Gossamer said, he bowed his head. He knew he hadn't heard the end of the story. Kelton was right; Serenity had sharp thorns. He smiled as the pair walked away. Though she did possess curves that made a man wish he was impaled upon them.

~~~~~

Unyvon'ar was patient as Farni explained the episodes she experienced, the ones involving Kelton. His heart was beating faster than it should; the implications of her tale had many interpretations, some benign, others much grander. Lin'cy was at her side, his face still as if the dreams were not odd.

"You have not told others?" Unyvon'ar asked.

"On my word, we have not," Lin'cy replied.

"Hmmm." Unyvon'ar palm absently rubbed the side of his face, the side that had decided to be less than its partner. There was still feeling there, though it felt as strange as the story Farni had told. It was good that Lin'cy had kept the news from others, of that he was sure. When he dropped his hand, he smiled as best he could. "And you were there?" he asked Lin'cy. When Lin'cy hesitated, Unyvon'ar added, "You were not?"

"The first time she spoke of being in his mind was when he left us," Lin'cy said. "A dream she shared with him, of another." He looked at Farni. "A woman who held his heart and Farni's dislike." Farni's body stiffened, yet her face showed no reaction. "The second time, I saw her fall and thought illness had overtaken her." There was another moment of hesitation before Lin'cy continued. "The third, I fell as well. I was there in the dream with her."

Unyvon'ar tried not to look surprised and failed. His smile faded, and his chest stiffened. He had to remind himself to breathe. It was best to think slow in such things, not leap to what may not be.

"And you felt him in this dream as well?"

"Yes. He was set upon by a force of men, some on beasts." Lin'cy looked to Farni, who nodded for him to continue. "I gave him my strength and Farni her agility. It was three fighting as one."

"He was in need of us," Farni added. Pride broke onto her face.

"You knew his purpose?" Unyvon'ar asked.

"His need," Farni replied. Lin'cy nodded his agreement. Farni smiled, then continued, "He desired to avoid what was to come. It was our will that made the twin-tales strike true."

"Our will added to his, and given gladly," Lin'cy agreed. "I...we trusted fire-head had the right of it."

"He is of the tribe," Unyvon'ar said, nodding his head.

"For the tribe," both Farni and Lin'cy said, overlapping each other's words as if it were a mantra.

"It is best if nothing is said of this until the elders have gathered," Unyvon'ar instructed. "Though I see only warriors before me, some may see broken minds." He was pleased to see the acknowledgment from both of them. The tales needed to be shared sparingly, at least until the elders reach consensus.

The elders met the next day. The group was curious, rarely meeting as one when not required by ritual. All wore their feathers, though less in number for travel was not required, so the less mobile were present. Even Jan'el, an old bent woman whose mind wandered of late, attended. She was having a good day and recognized all before her. Unyvon'ar smiled, and she returned it in kind with steady eyes. He felt it a good sign that more of the wisdom of the tribe would be present.

Unyvon'ar stood to silence the whispers of greetings and memories that had grown while they waited for the last to arrive. "Two of our warriors, ones who hold the tribe's trust, have brought word to me."

"It is true then," Jan'el said, her voice more potent than it had been in many seasons. It was an odd interruption, yet most welcome. It reminded Unyvon'ar of their youth when they lacked wisdom and lived on the promise of the unending days to come.

"What is true, Jan'el?" Unyvon'ar asked.

"The dreams have returned to us," Jan'el said, her voice growing in stature. The other elders gasped as the ramifications of her proclamation spread among them. Unyvon'ar looked at the certainty in her face. He was sure she knew none of what Lin'cy and Farni had told him. Jan'el smiled at him, the same smile she had once used to tempt his will a lifetime ago. It was as beautiful now as it was then. "I shared it - though I can no longer wield the twin-tales, I did so, lending skills I thought lost." She looked around at the shocked faces. "It is fire-head. We did not claim him; he has claimed us."

"Yes, Jan'el," Unyvon'ar said, now certain. "The dreams have returned to us."

There was a brief pause, then agreement that needed no words. What was, was. Only what will-be needed discourse. The last secret of the elders would be no more.

~~~~~

Kelton moved through the woods with growing ease. His mind had fully returned home with Gossamer at his side. If it were not for Juno, he would almost prefer to be back to his thieving ways and ignorant of all he now knew. Instead, he found himself explaining the world to another, though Gossamer was making it easy.

"The tale was the same," Kelton said. He was surprised that the description of the library did not require many words. It was not the first time Gossamer had absorbed concepts with ease. It was if he sensed more than Kelton explained, or perhaps the ideas were not as surprising as Kelton had expected them to be. Most others were in awe.

"Unchanged?" Gossamer said. "Mayhap, it was scribed differently each time. The tale remade for the time, and thus changed as it moved from winter to winter."

"Mayhap," Kelton said. "Though I have met scribes, the ones who duplicate books. They take pride in sameness, not alterations."

"Aye," Gossamer said, nodding his head. Kelton could see him working on the puzzle. The Answer's tale was old, and it would stand to reason it had lost its first wording in that time. Yet it did not. But it was one of many puzzles.

"There is much you do not tell me," Kelton said. He smiled, a sign of his trust when Gossamer looked at him. "Most here know nothing of the world beyond Anagoria. You knew much before I left. Now I sense you know much of what I say before I say it. Am I to know your secrets?"

"Your mind did not weaken in your travels," Gossamer said, his smile leaking out. Kelton could see the pride in it. "Do such things hurt your trust of me?"

"Nay." It would take much more to damage Kelton's faith. He chuckled. "I remember when I was taken to task for answering a question with another. It was my father if memory serves."

"If I were to tell you my secrets are wrapped in a vow, the breaking of which would harm more than you know, would it be enough to ignore?"

"Aye, but some things we must share," Kelton agreed. "This land is hidden to others. Isolated, yet tales such as the Answer find their way across the sea. The Dark Isle they call this place, yet the sun rises each day. Most, not of here, think it filled with demons, and power deems these tales a good thing. Do you know of what I speak?"

"Aye," Gossamer replied.

"What I do now, claiming to be the Answer, it will stir a pot shared by many not of this land?"

"Aye, though I know not why," Gossamer said.

"You can scribe," Kelton stated. It was the only explanation for his understanding of the library.

"Aye, poorly," Gossamer said, holding up his palm as if it were a broken tool. "It fades without practice." He smiled. "Many without skill have scribed your name about."

Kelton returned the smile. "I taught Juno her name. She desires all the other symbols, so I have begun teaching her."

"It is forbidden," Gossamer said, his smile growing.

"You have taught me poorly, father. It seems I am forbidden and do many forbidden things. The morals of a thief."

"Aye, we are a pair, are we not?" Gossamer said, then his smile disappeared. "Know that only a few are allowed to scribe in this land. To admit such a thing is death. We must keep Juno close."

Kelton nodded. "I am teaching her the sword as well. Any who desire her head must travel past me." He smiled. "I intend to exhaust them so she can end them with ease."

"A woman and a sword, an odd pair as well," Gossamer said.

Kelton chuckled. "I know many who would argue that point and prove you weak of blade as they did so."

"You have met warrior women?"

"Aye, many," Kelton said. "One almost convinced me home was with her."

Gossamer looked behind them, then looked back at Kelton. "You should lower your words lest Juno hears of such things."

"I have told her," Kelton said with a shrug. "It was a dream of her that returned me here. My heart knows its home, and it is with Juno and no other."

"She will die for you," Gossamer whispered.

"And I for her," Kelton said, then smiled. "Best if your sword guards her as well, or there will be an early end to the Answer's tale."

"Serenity seeks to turn your eyes," Gossamer said. "She desires my help in the task, as does Hector." He shook his head and sighed. "They see the tale's words as law. They are blind to any perceived violation."

"Remember when we first met her?" Kelton said. "Flowers dulled in my mind, and I could think of little else. That morn when I caught her bathing, I thought sunsets would never please me again." He pursed his lips, a way to fight his anger of the dreams. "Before I sailed from here, and since I have returned, that image of her wakes me each morn. I seek her in my dream, yet waking I seek another." He smiled again as good memories replaced the bad. "Juno's lips remove it from my mind now."

"Every morn?"

"Aye."

"I have never put stock in tales, especially those that forecast," Gossamer said. "Yet, more and more of this one struggles to appear true."

They jumped over a small trickling stream and started uphill, the trail almost disappearing, then regaining its visible stature at the top. Kelton wondered how O'fan kept his unerring way so far from any roads.

"Something pulls me about," Kelton said in agreement. "If it is the Goddess, then let her show herself, else I will find my own path." He indicated the barely-there trail. "As O'fan does."

"I think her more an idea than substance," Gossamer admitted.

"Aye," Kelton agreed. "Now I use her as the Brethren do. Let us hope she is like fog and not vindictive." They shared a chuckle, and it warmed Kelton. Before he left Aragonia, Gossamer was careful in his words. Now, Kelton sensed Gossamer felt equal, and no longer the superior father. Trusted friends. There were few thoughts Kelton would hide from Gossamer, and he wouldn't let old secrets bound by a vow end such trust. Besides, he could guess. Knowing swords and scribing when others are ignorant, pointed at high birth. Perhaps, Gossamer was the estranged son of one high in the King's army. It would explain much, and the silence would be a necessity to preserve one's family. Loved or not, no one would wish an untimely death to their own blood.

"We are headed north," Gossamer said. "I have been so pleased in finding you; I have failed to ask your target?"

"First, I must send a missive back across the sea," Kelton said. "For that, I require help from those who have helped me in the past."

"The Seven," Gossamer said, pulling his sleeve back to expose his weaved bracelet. "I chased after you, and found Fingers instead."

Kelton stopped in his tracks and laughed. "Now who is led about? It is if all collide by some grand design."

Gossamer nodded without a smile. "I was tasked with missives from time to time. A few contained your name and directed to another you have met."

Kelton lost his smile. "In this land, there is only one other I know who would understand such things."

"Rolic," Gossamer said, nodding his head. "He trades words with someone of great power, or at least near such power."

Kelton's eyes wandered to the trees, his mind returning to his words with Alliette and her memory of a name. King Vitalica's understanding, his almost all-knowing of things now made sense. Spies everywhere, even where they should not be. His breath caught. If the Dark Isle is not dark to the king, then house Tarvakian's ruse was even less so. A warning to Heralic must travel with the missive.

"I am unsure of Rolic," Gossamer continued. "You know his origins?"

"Mayhap," Kelton said, his eyes returning to Gossamer. "More so by your words. I believe he is of Masocrate and trades words with its King." Gossamer pulled him forward; their delay had caused some to bunch up behind them. Like his father, Kelton thought it best that few knew their words, and the pair sped up.

"Masocrate?" Gossamer said when they were alone again. "I meant he once wore white robes."

"A Brother?" Kelton said. "It explains much. I desired to stay with him, but he sent me away." Kelton grimaced. "Mayhap, he is half Brother and half Mascorate. It is odd that either side would allow such a thing. Odder still that he allowed me to breathe." His eyes widened. "And interfered when the Brethren were near to ending me."

"He is both friend and foe," Gossamer stated. "It seems a game to him as if he straddles all sides for amusement. I could sense his interest in you and the joy of your return. Mayhap, it is the chaos you bring and the boredom it relieves."

"He is hiding," Kelton said, thinking aloud. "Not from Brethren nor Mascorate. From something else. Why else would one live in a cave far from others when the Brethen's temples can offer warm walls?"

"I did not see where he laid his head," Gossamer said. "I would not have guessed a cave by the looks of him."

"Aye," Kelton said. Though the cave would be luxury to many in the land, it did not fit the man. Now that he thought of it, Rolic seemed resigned to some fate that led him from a life of comfort. Perhaps a self-imposed punishment. Guilt could lead a man to do many things.

"We need him," Kelton decided. "A risk to be sure, but he can bring light to many secrets."

"Aye," Gossamer agreed. "Though I think you should keep your blades sharp and ready."

"Always." Kelton picked up the pace, his mind now decided. "It is best if we share all we know of him. Mayhap, there are more insights to be found."

"Aye."

Kelton began, starting at the beginning when Rolic introduced him to the wrong side of the bow. He found some memories to be warm; others fogged by honeyed mead. None indicated an enemy, nor identifying a loyal friend. Rolic felt more like a partner of convenience, not unlike the deals struck by Tarvakian for coin. As long as the coin flowed, the partnership flourished. There was only one issue; Kelton had no idea what Rolic considered profit.