The dirt track became wider as they neared Termen and trees slowly gave way to fields. Those fields finally gave way to houses and an increasing number of people. Termen wasn't a large city, but neither was it insignificant due to its fortunate location. Boats on their way to Wyvern had to stop here for inspection before they could proceed. That gave a good opportunity for trade, which had allowed the city to grow.

As their company rode inside the city walls the chatter of voices seemed to grow, and not because the number of voices grew, or that each voice grew louder, but because they were accustomed to silence. They hadn't said a word since Milo woke up, each one in their own thoughts.

Milo was grateful that they left him alone. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to explain, he didn't want to meet their eyes. He knew he would only meet accusation, and for a good reason. He had killed an innocent girl, just for touching him at the wrong moment. She hadn't been a threat, she hadn't been anyone; just someone's. Perhaps she had been a mother, perhaps she had been loved, perhaps she had been someone's world. He remembered feeling something when he woke up: sadness. Now, nothing.

The shadow that rested in his soul refused to let him feel. He was just cold, colder than he had ever been before. It should have scared him, but that feeling had dissipated as well. Everything was fading: the colors around him, the fragrances, the feel of wind on his skin. He was becoming numb. A fade in the world.

The only thing still left, the only thing that kept him attached to the world -- to his mind and body -- was the ache somewhere in his chest. Something still remained there, something that couldn't be silenced, that couldn't be diminished. Guilt.

You know nothing....

The whisper flared the last remaining fear that still resided in his body.

This is nothing...

You have not seen anything yet.

You can do so much more, son.

A wave of nausea hit him, and a memory of a something similar to this flooded his mind. The Destroyer

So you do know me...do you remember more?

The question caught him off guard. He thought this was a one way communication. He felt something bubbling inside of him, like laughter. Are you laughing?

Yes

The direct answer to his question almost made him faint. He was talking to the Destroyer. The realization had him laughing. He was losing his mind.

If that's what you want to believe, then be my guest.

You've always taken after your mother after all. Avoiding to tackle the truth.

A sudden burst of pain in his chest snapped him back to his own conscience. Mother. He had never met his mother, he didn't know who she was. He had never known. He had never known his family.

Oh but you do, son.

The pressure on his mind vanished in the same manner as it had settled there. He regained control over his mind, but as soon as he did he wanted to lose it again. Everything came rushing back: the smothering guilt, the pain in his chest, the hopelessness, the memories of his betrayal. He had betrayed their trust.

He felt something touch his face, and he came to life, thrusting himself up, grabbing around the wrist of the person violating him. He heard a gasp. He opened his eyes and saw a black mark forming around the wrist, the delicate wrist... He met her eyes, eyes filled with terror. Beautiful eyes.

"Vigilante," he whispered. His eyes found the black stain under his hand, and the anguish that gripped him was stronger than any feeling he had ever experienced. Tears burned in his eyes as he gazed into hers. His hand still locked around her wrist, he couldn't let go. He couldn't let her die. She couldn't die...

"No..." another whisper, barely audible, just a breath fleeing in the wind.

She didn't answer. She didn't say anything. She was standing still, like a lifeless statue next to the bed he'd lain on. He could hear her hurried heartbeat, her shallow breaths. She was still alive, but terrified. His heartbeat matched hers, but their beats were slightly off. Like them. They had never been synchronized. Now they would never even have the chance. He was killing her...

A single tear slipped from her left eye and although he knew he shouldn't touch her he leaned down, slowly, and kissed it away from her cheek. She had to know that he loved her, even if he was too late.

He heard another gasp, a sharp intake of breath, and that has his cue. He let her go.

"I love you" he breathed, and then he left; his mind completely numb from the sadness he couldn't process. It was too much. He left her, he left everything behind. He saw Qumo standing outside the room as he opened the door, the N'aian's expression an open question.

"I killed her," he said, his voice calm and cold.

He saw the N'aian's fear. He saw sadness, he saw turmoil, but he left it there. He didn't want to say another word. He never wanted to see that face again, those eyes: devastated.

He ran down a flight of stairs, out into the city square. All those people, living, as if nothing had happened. He stopped, falling to his knees, anger overwhelming him. He screamed. He screamed towards the darkening sky. He screamed until his lungs burned. Everything screamed. Everyone screamed. He lost track of his voice in the chorus. People were running around him, the smell of smoke reached his nostrils, the smell of burning flesh. He looked around him then and saw a wall of fire surrounding him. He began to shake, no longer himself. What was he doing?

You're doing this, son...

The voice boomed in his ears. He heard it despite the screams, despite the roar around him. He cried: desperate. "I'm not your son!" He didn't know why he said it, but he had to make a last stand. He wouldn't give in.

Yes you are, Io. You are my son, and you know it.

The words released something within him, released memories. Memories he didn't want. No!

Yes...

He felt his soul rip apart by the realization. I won't let you win...

There is nothing to win. There is nothing to lose.

"I won't let you win," he screamed out in agony, then he reached for his knife, trembling as he held it. He saw Vigilante's face before him, a last beautiful memory, her smile...

Then he plunged the knife into his heart.

A/N This is the end of book one. I'm afraid is a pretty unsatisfactory ending, especially since I never got around to writing much of the sequel. I might post the few chapters I have of it, however. If you so wish...