Deep down, past all of her fear and despair, Aerelle was glad. The sand and rocks of the sandstorm whipped around the barrier of sand around them, held by Aerelle and the remaining fire mages. The shield moved with them, and prevented their party from getting pelted by rocks and sand. The heat, however, was inescapable. Nonetheless, Aerelle outwardly smiled.

"Do you find something amusing in this, Mistress Aerelle?" Lieutenant Tesmar asked questioningly.

"Nothing you'd understand, lieutenant," she replied, smiling again.

The wind howled, and the group of goblins, soldiers, Kelsanites, and wizards continued on. Aerelle had placed Captain Krick in charge of the greater mass of people heading west toward La'adia, with Priest Grery and Priestess Weyo as his aide. Grery had assured her that Krick would listen to him as a priest, and that the Kelsanites would be safe. Magestor Esquire and his goblins had insisted on following Aerelle as her personal bodyguard. After the fall of Kelsan, Aerelle couldn't argue with the goblin lord. It was the goblins, however, not the hardened warriors, who complained the least about the hot, dry air.

Weyo had been able to summon water into scavenged cups, and her magic was greatly appreciated. She claimed that the water was not magically created, but rather pulled from the air by her spells. Aerelle did not see how water could exist in dead air of Kelsan, but she did not argue. In fact, no one seemed to argue at all. Lieutenant Tesmar, formerly of the Order of the Rose, kept everyone in line, and showed no sign of hatred against the Kelsanites. Aerelle decided to keep an extra eye on him. Most of the knights who had survived Kelsan harbored a hatred for the people there.

Aerelle felt a rock bounce off her shield of sand, and then sensed Lea force extra mana into the shield that summoned the sand up to protect them. Lea had survived Kelsan, as well as her companion, Keyla. Both had been beautiful, but even after being healed by Grery, Weyo, and a few other remaining clerics, they were scarred, tired, and looked rough. Juli had also survived, and was glad to see everyone after the fall of Kelsan. She had been alone for the better part of the battle, and had constantly run from units of undead. She had helped Kelsanite women and children escape, she said, and she held out her arms openly to help any Kelsanite who had survived. She knew how scared the women and children were, and knew that she would like to be comforted if she were in their position. Khen was the other surviving fire mage, and he had lost his close friend Gyla in the attack of Kelsan. They had attacked Kelsan from the north with General Beravu of the Knights of the Blessed Fist from Sha'toria, and forced their way into the city. Gyla had fallen in the assault, and Khen had since been alone. He had taken on a hatred for any Kelsanite, but instead of instigating brawls, he stayed away from them. Aerelle understood how he felt.

La'adian troops had been killed, Kelsanite innocents had been slaughtered, evil horrors had been banished, and Kelsanite patriots had been suppressed, and yet Aerelle smiled. Wind tore at their eyes, yet Aerelle continued on with her jovial humor. Aerelle had incinerated and created corpses. She had seen innocent Kelsanite women and children laying dead in the streets, as well as their innocent husbands and fathers. She had heard screams of terror, and shrieks of demons. She had stood up to her mother's corpse, and yet she smiled.

All who she had lived for had been killed, and the murderers of her past had in turn been murdered, and now she had nothing. She had a mass of people from across the world to rule, and she wasn't up to it. She just wanted peace. Everyone she had loved had died. She had mourned Ezaziel and the others. She had been stricken with horror as her mother held her in murderous hands. Jaredei. Pale Scale. Jewel. All dead. All gone. Worst of all, they had left Aerelle behind.

Aerelle had been assigned the position, as fate would have it, to lead the survivors of the Battle of Kelsan, just as she led the survivors of Montear. This was the second time that she left a place of death and destruction. This time, instead of leading twenty-five mages, she led a band of goblins, four other wizards, fifteen La'adian troops, and fifteen Kelsanite survivors who willingly followed Aerelle because she had liberated them from vampiric rule. This time, unlike the flight from Montear, she had no viashino guide, and she had no one to argue with. She had not talked much to any of the surviving mages as Pale Scale led them. What had there to be discussed? Ezaziel had provided conversation, and she embraced it; now she wished she could embrace him, but, like thousands of others, he was dead. Pale Scale was dead, and they were on their own in the desert. She knew where she was going back then, too. She was headed for Karthemon to raise a resistance against Trenton. Where was she headed now? What were her goals? She wanted peace, but knew that that was a foolish notion. As a tear trickled down her dry face, her lips still arched up in a grin.

There were only five mages of the Wizards of Fire left. The Cult of the Fire Moon had been slaughtered, and the Wizards of Fire had been killed in a crusade. Aerelle had thought for a time that perhaps Demra was alive, but La'adia had been destroyed, and Aerelle figured that her friend was now dead like the others. When she thought off all the friends she lost, her mind wandered to all of the Kelsanite rebels she had had to kill, and how their families were now missing a brother or a husband or a father. Or, if that family were lucky, unlike her, they would be dead. Even through thoughts of death and sadness, Aerelle grinned contently.

They trudged up a sandy dune that would move within the next week, and Aerelle looked out at the hazy horizon, and wiped sweat and hair from her eyes. By Tesmar's reaction, she must had laughed, and she felt a hand on her arm. Turning her head, she saw Keyla. Khen put a strong hand on her shoulder, Juli stood silently next to her, and Lea put her hand on Aerelle's other shoulder. Despite the looks of surprise of the others at the mage's reaction, all five of the fire wizards laughed. They had returned home.

Not far from the temporary dune on which they stood, a collection of buildings could be seen through the shield of sand. It was then that Aerelle noticed that the sand no longer protected them. The Wizards of Fire had lost their concentration and looked onward to home. Aerelle had the urge to run, but instead she composed herself, and set the shield back in place as her party covered their faces from blown debris. The other mages added to the shield, and they continued on toward the abandoned city of Montear.

Montear had been the only home to Aerelle, Keyla, Lea, Juli, and Khen. They had been born there. They had grown up there. They had learned and matured there. Their families and friends had been killed there. Captain Krick led his army west to mourn over La'adia and provide proper burial for any corpses. Aerelle returned home to bury the corpse of her sister. Alissa's dying wail repeated itself in Aerelle's head, and it was followed by Trenton's laughter. Aerelle had left her sister to die, and now she was back to pay homage to her sister who had given her life to give Aerelle hope.

The other sorceresses by now were also in tears, and Khen sniffled, holding back his. The others left the mages alone, and the group continued on. Time meant nothing to Aerelle, and, as thoughts of home and friends and family drifted through her mind, they had covered the distance between the sand dune and Montear. The storm had suddenly stopped, and Aerelle released the shield. Respectfully, Lieutenant Tesmar, young and handsome, held back the others as Aerelle, Keyla, Lea, Juli, and Khen approached the city.

Aerelle took the lead by a step, and slowly passed two buildings that led into the city. She knew Tesmar, the knights, and the Kelsanites were watching, but she didn't care. Falling to her knees, she sobbed. She had tried to promise herself before that she was done crying, done feeling lonely, but it was no use. She had returned home. She took handfuls of sand that made the streets and held them in her hands. Tears dripped off of her chin, and she heard the sobs of the others. Keyla and Lea embrace. Khen and Juli embraced. No one was left to embrace Aerelle. Once again, Aerelle was alone.

She knew what she must do; what she had come here to do. She had come to bury her sister, and deal with her past. She would head toward the Temple of Fire and find her sister's corpse. She would make sure that no bodies lay in the streets. She would clean the small city, and then head to Karthemon as planned. She did not hear the guttural command the first time, and noticed it the second. It took the third time for her to look up at the small beast in front of her.

The squat, muscled orc stood firmly a few paces away from the mages, and he held a whip with a dagger at the end, and a club in the other hand. It's hands were gloved and spiked. His green-scaled flesh was covered by armor that had been well-kept, but it's face was visible. A pudgy nose dominated the face, followed by a toothy mouth and glaring eyes. It spoke again. "Outta my city!"

Aerelle calmly drew herself up as Tesmar brought in his troops. Stinkfeet and the Kelsanites followed him. "This is not your city. It is mine," she replied evenly. "You get out, or I shall force you out."

"Traitor!" the orc bellowed, pointing at Stinkfeet. "Bow before your Overlord!"

Stinkfeet began to fall to his knees, but Tesmar and others scowled at him. Stinkfeet stood back up, put his hands on his hips, stomped his foot and spit on the ground. His goblins were taken aback at his defiance, but they did the same. The orc was not pleased, and so the Magestor spoke. "I am Magestor Esquire of dees goblins, and I take orders from no-a-body!"

Aerelle spoke before the orc. "Have you survived the destruction of Kelsan, pig? Have you fought demons and vampires? Magestor Esquire and the others of us have, and we won. We have killed the already dead, and we can kill you. Stand down, or I will make you fall. You have no right here." She did not waver as she spoke, and her tone was demanding. Two more orcs joined the first from being a building, and soon they were surrounded by a goodly amount of goblins. The head orc continued to speak.

"You want me city, human? You will fight us then." The orc made a guttural laugh, and was followed by the other two, also dressed as he.

"I can kill you all with one wave of my hand. Stand down and leave, or die."

The goblins surrounding them backed off a few paces, frightened by her declaration. The orcs did not move. Magestor Esquire howled as he had in Kelsan, and his goblins joined him. "Me Magestor of goblins! Overlords no rule me! I am my own Overlord! I rule all goblins!" He proclaimed. A few of the goblins surrounding them dropped their weapons, and bowed. Stinkfeet smiled at what he had done, and continued on. "We no need Overlords! Goblins rule goblins! Goblins be strong! No slaves!" More bowed. The ones who were standing switched their eyes between the orcs, Stinkfeet, and the bowing goblins. Aerelle allowed Stinkfeet's speech continue, half amused by it. She kept her mana just in case, however.

"Enough! We will leave you alone!" he snarled, showing his teeth.

"We will join you, mighty Magestor Esquire!" one of the goblins shouted.

Stinkfeet was not ready for such a response. Lucky for him, he needed not to answer. One of the other two orcs attacked the first, calling him a "Coward!" and "Weak one!" The orc's goblins edged away from the duel, and Aerelle noticed Tesmar's weary gaze. The other orc helped kill off the first, and then the two orcs stood, covered in blood. "We duel you."

There was no doubt they spoke to Stinkfeet, but he was in no condition to duel two strong orcs. He would never be in a condition to kill even one by himself. Aerelle knew that she should help, but also knew that Stinkfeet would be seen as a coward if he did not. Her mind flashed for a moment back to Chomper, and knew immediately that these two orcs would be more dangerous. She looked at the others, hoping that they understood not to help the Magestor. She knew that his ring had burned out, and she believed he didn't know. His response showed that she was correct.

"I have my shiny!" he yelled, brandishing his finger with the silver ring. "I will fight!" Without any other warning, he courageously charged. Aerelle channeled her mana into his scavenged sword, and as he swung at the first orc, it spewed fire. Both he had the orcs were surprised, but the orc remained unharmed because of Stinkfeet's wide miss.

The other orc swung his spiked club, but Aerelle warmed the sand beneath Stinkfeet, and he dashed out of the way of the heat, also missing the orc's attack. Stinkfeet charged again with a howl, and Aerelle forced him, with her magic, right into one of the orcs. Khen focused mana into his sword, strengthening the blade, and the weapon cleaved at the orcs shoulder. Blood spurted up, and the Overlord backpedaled away. One of the other three mages used her mana to push Stinkfeet to the ground, having the unharmed orc's blade fly above the goblin. The orc was obviously amazed at the goblin's abilities, since Aerelle's doings were not noticeable. She made no gesture or sound.

Stinkfeet, still on the ground, sliced at the orc's legs, and the orc fell on top of him as the sword cut through armor and burned, as well as sliced, the orc's shins. Stinkfeet leaped up on his own accord, and jumped at the orc with a bleeding shoulder. The on-looking goblins, as well as a few warriors and Kelsanites gasped as Stinkfeet clawed at his opponent's face. They fell to the ground, and Stinkfeet mercilessly clawed away. Blood flew off of his hands and up into his face, but the little goblin paid no attention to it. He got off the orc, who tried to breath with a ruptured throat, and blocked a blow with his sword from the other orc, who managed to stand.

Aerelle forced strength into Stinkfeet's muscles, and he kept a hold on his sword. Her heart raced. The little goblin was winning, and the courage all came from him. As their weapons slid against each other, sparks jumped off, striking the orc in the face. Aerelle guessed that it was Lea's doing. The orc fell, and Stinkfeet jumped onto him and hacked away.

Calling off her mana, Aerelle turned away from the goblin tearing apart the corpse of the orc. All of the goblins let up a cheer, and Aerelle embraced her fellow mages, as well as Tesmar so as not to look suspicious. She did not think anyone knew that she had helped, and she preferred it stay that way.

"Do I get no hug!?" Stinkfeet demanded of her, striding up to her, his arms covered in blood. Grinning, Aerelle crouched and hugged the creature, congratulating him.

Returning her thoughts to important manners, she decided she must waste no time. "Keyla," she called. "Please make sure there are no more problems and make sure that the goblins get settled. I have things to do." The other wizards also surrounded her now, and Weyo tended to a few of Stinkfeet's minor wounds. "If you do not mind, I would like to go into the Temple of Fire. I believe Alissa is there, and I need to say goodbye." They all understood, and said that they did not mind if she went by herself.

Aerelle walked slowly down the streets of Montear, where some merchants from the north from Kila or Gowwil or merchants from Hejlia to the south would sell their goods. Women used to gossip in the streets, and men would lounge against the light brown stone buildings. The buildings were almost all the same except the Temple of Fire at the center of the city. She saw no dead and decayed bodies as she made her sorrowful, solo procession down the avenues of Montear.

Dark shadows cast by the buildings reminded her of the dark attack by Trenton and his undead army. She remembered when black mana had been used to kill her people. She remembered the troops of skeletons in the streets and the lurking demons. She did not let her memories stop her, they only put more purpose into her gait.

She had barely noticed that she had reached the four-floored Temple of Fire with grooves in the walls and glyphs on the door. She noticed surprisingly that the stone door was closed, and she put her hand up on it to push it open. The doors were sealed with magic, and, at her touch, fire lit the door, and Aerelle pulled away from the heat. A strange tingle filled her mind, and with a few seconds, she knew who had put the seal on the door. Umaria. Her advisor had made sure that the Temple had been protected, had destroyed undead and made Aerelle's escape safe, and had followed them through the desert as a phoenix. Aerelle missed her friend, and placed her hand once again on the door.

This time, she delved into the seal, and felt Umaria's presence. He advisor had always been helpful, and had studied arcane spells. Her suicidal attack on the undead and her transformation into a phoenix had been just one of those spells; and her last. Aerelle remembered the celebration on her eighteenth birthday when she chose Umaria, already a friend to be her advisor. She had been Third Chair since her birth, but the fact that she had chosen and advisor made official. Umaria and Aerelle had spent many joyful and sorrowful times together, and it was when Aerelle thought about sadness and pain that she felt the heat of the door.

The spell had created a fire, and Aerelle's hand was firmly on the door. Aerelle had also unintentionally cast her own spell that prevent the flames from attacking her. Umaria's seal had been activated, and Aerelle knew that she would have to destroy it in order to enter the Temple. Did she really want to go in? Was she ready for what it would bring? She knew the answer in her heart, and, saying goodbye once again to Umaria, she broke her friend's spell. The fire immediately died, and Aerelle pushed open the stone doors.

The entrance corridor was not wide nor high, and the only light can from the door. Torches would be set in the walls, and Aerelle could have lit them, but she could not bring herself to do it. Montear was gone. The Cult of the Fire Moon was gone. There was no need to bring life to an idea of the past. She continued forward and turned right, into a wider and taller hall with windows near the ceiling. Brass poles holding now-extinguished candles lined the corridor, and ancient red drapery with gold embroidery covered the stone wall. Aerelle was relieved that it was still intact.

She continued on and walked slowly up a flight of narrow stone stairs. She guided and held herself up with the aide of the wall, and she felt the smoothness of the aged stone. She remembered playing on the stairs as a child with Alissa, and recalled being yelled at by her mother or another elder. They had played a game with stones, and no one appreciated stones on the stairs. Sniffling and trying to hold back tears - without luck - Aerelle continued on through her past.

She walked down a poorly lit hall, and continued to run her hands and fingers along the wall. She passed by doors that had been used to train wizards. She stopped at one in particular, and pushed it open. The room was empty now, but she still remembered being inside it with her mother and sister. This was where she had first learned to light a fire in the palm of her hand. Her sister, already having completed the test, encouraged her, and Aerelle remembered being proud of having such a wonderful sibling. Crysalis had instructed her firmly throughout the spell, but once Aerelle had summoned a flame and then extinguished it, her mother had hugged, kissed, and congratulated her. Aerelle missed her family, and tears came back again. She just wanted to embrace her sister or her mother, but knew she couldn't. She didn't want anything else. She just wanted to be held and loved by her mother and sister.

Knowing that she would only be hurt if she stayed any longer in the empty room, she left and continued down the corridor. The rock walls were smooth, and the hallway was worn with years. Aerelle barely lifted her feet, and her boots shuffled across the stone floor. She had walked down this hall countless times with her mother, sister, Umaria, or another friend. All that was in her past, and all of those people were now dead.

She walked up more steps, and continued down a shadowed corridor. Ioun stones or fire would have lit the hall, but no one was here to light them, and Aerelle knew that she could not bear to walk the halls if they were lit as they had been when Montear was full of people. She could barely take seeing it as it was. Her face was still bandaged to cover the scar that Crysalis had given her. She saw her past with only one eye. One eye saw the reality, but her covered eye saw her past. She reached another corridor that branched off of the one she currently walked down. She wanted to go down it; but she knew that it would be painful. Going against her fears, she turned down the corridor.

She no longer walked and dragged her feet. She fully ran down the hall and stopped at a door. Breathing hard from anticipation, she opened the doors to her room. What she saw may as well have been the dead body of her mother. Her past was now gone. Books and bedding and trinkets and papers lay scattered along the floor, and ink had been splattered against the tan-colored stone walls. Her bookcase was splintered, and her personal diary gone. She tore through the rubble, but found only the remains of her book of the Myth of the Fire Moon. Trenton had not even taken it. He instead had had it destroyed. All of her possessions were broken and ruined. She collapsed on the hard base of her bed now that the blankets and padding were scattered around the room.

Laying on the bed, she remembered her first night in her own room. It was her sixteenth birthday, and Crysalis and the others had rewarded her a room near Crysalis' and Alissa's. Alissa had been a few years older, and had had her own room for some time. Having her own room near the Audience Chamber of the Temple of Fire was a privilege that she had always waited for. She had arranged her room how she wanted it, had had a desk put in, and kept a diary and notes. Umaria and other friends had been invited in her room for leisure times at first, but once her excitement died down, she kept her room for personal meditation. She knew that this would be the last time she would be in her room, and decided to meditate on her thoughts as she had in her past.

She thought about everything; or tried to. What her thoughts came down to was the reason why she was here. She knew that she was only delaying the inevitable. She had come to pay respects to the sister that had given her time to escape and had tried -- failed -- to fight off Trenton. Aerelle hoped that her sister still lay in the Audience Chamber, and had not been raised from the dead by Trenton's magic. Thinking of that, she fell back into tears. She did not know how she could still have any tears to shed, but that wasn't important. She wanted her past back, and the people from it. They were gone, and she would never see them again. All she had lived for was gone, and she had nowhere to go. She just wanted peace of mind, and to be left alone, but Roden had chosen her to be someone she did not wish to be.

Rising from the remains of her bed, she looked one last time at the remnants of her room. Nothing was left, and there was no reason to stay. With a heavy heart and a tear-stained face, Aerelle made her way to the Audience Chamber. She did not pay attention to the halls she walked down, nor the doors she passed. She did not pay attention to the turns she took or the stairs she climbed up or down. Her uncovered eye was as blind as her bandaged one. All she knew was that she had reached the doors of the bottom level of the audience chamber. Taking a deep breath and hoping for the best, she opened the closed door, and lit a small fire in her hand.

She walked into a wall of nausea. The smell of rotted flesh and evil stung her nose. Whether it was from her sister's corpse or Trenton's lingering taint, she did not know, but she ignored the odor, and continued in. She did not look up at the other levels with chairs. She barely saw the thrones at the bottom that herself, her sister, and her mother had once occupied. Her attention was pulled toward the corpse on the floor. The room was dark, even with her flame, but Aerelle saw Alissa's dead body. She rushed down to her and hugged the corpse, unsummoning her flame. Alissa was considerably decayed, but her body was still whole. Her skin and hair remained intact, except where hacks of a sword had opened her flesh. It smelled of decay and was covered in crusted blood, but Aerelle didn't care. She had been attacked by undead, had incinerated undead, and had destroyed undead. This was not an enemy, but a sister. Aerelle sobbed into the musty corpse, and whispered words her sister would never hear.

They had vied for First Chair before Trenton attacked, and Aerelle now wished she could have just gave the First Chair to her sister instead of arguing. She had later argued with Ezaziel, and though she had come to love him, he, too, had died. All who Aerelle loved had been killed. Her spirit was weak. What was the point of moving on? She was not the only leader in the world. Her place could be taken up by another. Emotion ran wild through Aerelle, and her thoughts returned to her sister. She had lost one that she loved. Her sister had not deserved to die. She had done nothing wrong. She was loved by everyone, and yet she lay dead. She had martyred herself for a cult that no longer existed.

Aerelle's voice was rasp from her wailing over her sister, and she did not want to remove her arms from her beloved Alissa. She knew that she must go down into the chamber where the Orb of Brilliance had been held, but she didn't want to leave Trenton's victim. Then she had thought back to Kelsan how she had left Jaredei and Jewel and Koan and Thad and Pale Scale and Cuthbert and countless others behind. She would not leave yet. She would be just a few paces away. She stood up uneasily, and walked to the open hole in the ground. She sensed the enchantment still there and walked onto the hole.

A magic column secured her and slowly set her down into the small chamber that should have been lit by the Embodiment of the Fire Moon - the Orb of Brilliance. The room she found herself in was pitch dark, somehow darker than the Audience Chamber above. Gathering her mana, she lit a small, single flame in the palm of her hand. As soon as it had winked into existence, she had called it off. She had seen enough. The copies of the Myth of the Fire Moon that had been set on pedestals in front of the Orb were torn apart and thrown around the room. The room stabbed at her as much as her own room had, if not more. She quickly stepped back into the invisible column of mana and rose back up.

She bent down and lifted the body of her sister. She let herself cry and wail again as she carried Alissa's rotting remains to the trapdoor. She was taken down again - for the last time - with Alissa in her arms. Alissa had always been one to help others, and she would be the first to tell an elder that a friend had done something wrong. Now it was Aerelle who was helping her sister for the last time. She wished - with a furious rage - that she had been able to kill Trenton and personally avenge her sister. It was too late now, and Trenton, as well as Alissa, Crysalis, Ezaziel, Pale Scale, Jewel, and Jaredei, along with hundred of others whose names she would never know, were dead.

She laid her sister's body among the rubble on the floor, and, beseeching the Fire Moon for guidance and strength, as was customary when one of the cult members died, Aerelle stood. She could not see her sister in the darkness of the room, and knew that she would never see her again. Aerelle clasped her hands in front of her and bowed her head in respect. She felt on her hand the simple silver ring her mother had given her in this very room. Her mother was dead. Everyone was dead except Aerelle. She was alone. Her body was alive, but her soul and heart were dead. Bringing a hand to her face, she tore off the bandages that covered her scar.

She threw them on the floor. Lighting a fire in the palm of her hand once again, and bracing herself for the defaced chamber that she stood in, she looked at her sister with her face clear of dressing. Alissa's head happened to be tilted toward Aerelle, and she looked into her sister's blank eye sockets. Shutting her own eyes and letting out a torrent of tears harder than she ever had before, Aerelle sent her flame toward her sister. The smell of burning flesh immediately filled the chamber, and a nearby page of the Myth of the Fire Moon set aflame.

Aerelle said goodbye to her sister and to her past, and rose up to the bottom floor of the dark Audience Chamber. As the room that she had just rose from began to smoke, cackle, and glow with fire, Aerelle cast the spell that slid the floorstone back in place. With that spell, she sealed off her past forever. The last copies of the Myth of the Fire Moon burned along with her only remaining blood relative. Standing finally silent at her misfortune, Aerelle let the darkness caress her.

Keyla returned to Lieutenant Tesmar and the others. Khen and Juli were not back yet, but Lea spoke with some of the knights. Aerelle had not returned it seemed, and Keyla did not think much of it. They had all lost so much, but Aerelle had lost not just her family, but those people whom she had responsibility over. It fell on her shoulders. Keyla had cremated any skeletons she had found, but Trenton and his necromancers had successfully added many of them to their undead army.

She had looked toward coming back with such anticipation. They had been gone for a good two months, and she longed to be in the tan-color stone buildings and in the heat of the sun. The temperatures in Kledion had been so cold, so foreign. Now that she was here, she discovered that it was not as she expected. They had found an army of goblins and motionless skeletons of their friends. Worst of all, most of those corpses were gone, reanimated after Trenton's minions killed them.

Keyla only wanted to feel content again, and her return to Montear had only deepened her loneliness. What was she to do? The only answers were to run or stay with Aerelle, and Aerelle was a friend, and so she would stay. Where would Aerelle lead them? To war? Keyla dismissed the notion from her thoughts. Aerelle wanted only to rest. Everyone was sick of the killing and destruction.

The troops and goblins had fanned out, and some marched out of view. She suspected that they were patrolling. Against what, Keyla could not say. Goblins were the only ones who had attacked Montear. The only ones except Trenton and his undead. With her mind lingering on the thoughts of undead, she recalled her spell that toppled the Nexus. Jaredei's final farewell and the mana of the Equinox had given her enough strength to topple the ancient edifice. Many undead had been destroyed, but so were some La'adian knights. She had killed her allies, and she felt guilty. It had helped them win the battle, but it had cost them dearly.

She just stood looking out into the city. It had been home once; safe and secure. No more. No longer was it safe, and feelings of uneasiness rippled across her thoughts. The Fire Moon that she had come to believe in was just a myth. It would not rise again. It would not provide an endless supply of mana from which wonders could be accomplished. The Cult of the Fire Moon had decided that they would use the mana, but how would they control all of it? If Trenton had that power, there would be death. The Orb had been their proof, and their proof had been shattered. It was not a remnant of the moon, but a sphere of an ancient time.

Keyla heard a whistle from Khen, and she turned to look into his distant eyes. He had lost his closest companion, and was slow to speak with others. Keyla pitied him, but understood his feelings. Looking beyond him, she saw that Juli had also returned, and she now stood with Lea. Khen motioned for her to come to them. She quickly reached them, and asked why they had called her.

"We had sentries posted," Lead informed. "They saw three riders coming in, and told us. They riders are Knights of the Scarlet Star."

"What do they want?" Keyla asked.

"To speak with Aerelle."

"Why?"

"They said that they need her help. They said that they knew of her abilities and victory at Kelsan."

"Can we trust them? They are mischievous."

"We cannot send them away," Juli said. "Aerelle must decide. We must wait for her."

"What could they need her for?" Keyla wondered aloud. No one answered, and so they split up to wait for Aerelle.

The day was hot, and their hearts were heavy. The Knights of the Scarlet Star lived in the Burning Sands in a region known as the Firesands. They were each spellcasters and warriors. They had helped the cult in the past, but they played on words, and instructions must be exact, or they would do only as you ask. If no time was given, they would do it when they pleased. If no amount was given, they would chose any amount they fancied. Keyla did not know the reason for their foolishness, and didn't care. She hoped Aerelle would come back soon.

Juli, who Keyla had cared for during their journey through the Burning Sands with Pale Scale, came up to her and informed her that Aerelle had returned, and wished to speak with them. In a few minutes, Aerelle and the other four mages were in an abandoned house. After Aerelle insisted that she was alright despite her red, tear-stained cheeks, their conversation was directed at the presence of the knights in Montear.

"We must see what they want," Aerelle said. "I will not say no if it can help us. They have always driven a hard bargain, and we must do the same."

"Agreed," Khen said, almost in a whisper. "I will go if you do not wish to, however."

"They have asked for me, and will settle for no less. This, I am sure of. If I leave with them, you four will be in charge because I trust you, and you must leave within a week and head for Karthemon if I do not return before then, unless the knights tell us how long I will be before I leave."

They nodded their agreement and then headed out to meet the three Knights of the Scarlet Star at the edge of Montear. The knights were dismounted from their black, armored stallions, and were dressed in red armor. Their helmets had only thin slits for their eyes, mouth and nose, and were lined in gold. Their armor was also highlighted in silver and gold, and each had a sheathed sword with a crystal hilt. Keyla couldn't image how they could move in such armor. They bowed at the waist, and Khen returned their bow. Keyla, Juli, Lea, and Aerelle curtsied.

"You have need of me?" Aerelle asked the knight flanked by the other two.

"We do," he replied. "Please come with us immediately." His voice was serious but in monotone.

"What is our reward?" Aerelle asked.

"What do you want?"

Aerelle's response stunned everyone. "I would like a guard of Knights of the Scarlet Star for my journeys."

"We are not to be enslaved!" their leader exclaimed, aghast, his first show of emotions.

"That is what I wish. You're people drive hard bargains and are tough to deal with. So are we."

With very little pause, the knight replied. "It is done. Now follow me."

"What am I to do?"

"We need your aid in a magical ritual, and your power would be greatly appreciated. I can tell you no more, for I know nothing else."

"How long will I be gone?"

"Three to five days if we travel quickly. You may ride with me. Our horses are comfortable with the desert. They will be able to weather the heat."

Aerelle gave a nod to Keyla and each of the others, and curtsied to the knight. The knights saddled up, and Aerelle left with them without another word. When they were out of sight, the others erupted in questions. Keyla knew that the following days would be tough, and hoped that she and the other mages could handle anything that would arise. After the excitement died down, they got their things ready, and Keyla and the other three Wizards of Fire assigned housing. Houses of her friends were assigned to Kelsanites. Houses that her parents, and parent's parents, had lived in were taken by the La'adian knights. When what was happening finally pulled together, Keyla became afraid. She was going to sleep in the city where her friends and family had been slaughtered. It would be a long stretch of days indeed.