Kruger looked at the fallen knights, revulsion had his skin crawling. The area was nearly empty of people, a couple of men talking only. One of those left, and the other seemed to observe Kruger as he worked. Kruger was suspicious by nature; he refused to lay hands upon the corpses of the knights until he had gotten a better look. He reached out to the body with Heaven, the angelic hammer in the pair that made up Purgatory.

The contact caused a flash of light, Kruger pulled on the body but the strength seemed to drain from him. Surely this one body wasn't too much for him to handle. The harder he pulled the weaker he felt, it seemed that something was trying to prevent him from moving the corpse. Giving a final heave the corpse rolled, Kruger had a moment to see before he fell to his backside the sword lying on the street, runes glowed red on the blade. At his fall the man had come over, and offered his hand to Kruger.

He had said his name was Grem, Kruger didn't know the man but he seemed concerned that magic had been used to create the beings. Kruger felt oddly drained, and shaky the sword on the ground had his attention. This was a problem because Kruger nearly admitted things to the man. The use of the word we had become something that adorned the smith's vocabulary lately. He hated the word, it reveals much in and of itself. The word we means always that there is more that cannot be seen. It says that I am not alone here, there are others whom you cannot see. Often the word we indicated that alliances had been formed, and this was the crux of Kruger's problem.

In all things he had been a solo act. He had in the interest of preserving others set into motion elaborate sequences that by design would leave him to face enemies alone. He was rarely sure that his involvement in any struggle put him on the correct side, so he championed hopeless causes and risked no one but himself. Lately the problems faced had been too large to be settled by one lone combatant. He wished he could drive away the darkness by creating the perfect shield, or the ultimate weapon. He didn't have enough information to do this though. He needed what these bodies held.

The man, Grem stayed with him, so Kruger made an excuse to rid this body of its sword. He claimed that children shouldn't have such a thing available to them, and that he would store the thing in his shop until proper authorities claimed it. He waited then for the street to empty completely. Darkness was coming, and with that cover he would be able to gain the rest of the pieces he needed. He was fairly certain that an entire suit of Ebonsteele armor would be missed, so he went to each body and pieced together a full set. He was certain that within the metal was an answer to dealing with the Death Knights. There was no one he could think of better to find it than himself.

Kruger couldn't read her expression; her face was always so much more schooled than his. He was sure that she held the same emotions that most people held. He had made a private campaign to get an actual laugh out of the woman. In the back of his mind he shuddered to think what would happen if that control was tested to the point of breaking.

Her advice to him was sound; if he was truly afraid then don't try. Kruger thought that might be her way of helping him through his anxiety. "I won't be ruled by fear Rachael." The twitch of lip she gave could have been amusement, or approval. Hard to say what Rachael thought on the surface. Kruger believed she only said what he needed to hear, because the tremble to his hand had dissipated, and his chin rose with the defiance that had given him so many scars on his back.

Rachael left as Kruger began to pull the pieces from the chest and line them out. Kruger didn't see her leave that invisible sentry of air to watch over her friend but he could hear it enter. He was grateful for that small demonstration. Once he had the pieces in the order he wanted he considered his next steps carefully. He stepped away to the cloak he had abandoned on entry and took the badge that marked him as guardian. He pressed his thumb to the wings the halo came alive shining blue as it scanned his finger.

Haru had said he could speak to specific members; he just needed to say the name. "Cael, its Kruger if you have some time, there is something I need your help with. I am at the forge, and will wait for you to arrive unless you tell otherwise." Kruger took the badge and attached it to his shirt. It wouldn't do to miss the reply because he was too far away to hear it.

Kruger was relieved when Cael showed. He addressed the easy questions first. "Earlier today there was an incident in the marketplace. Three Death Knights were killed, I"borrowed these from them." He put out his hand indicating the pieces of armor and the sword. "I haven't slept yet, I honestly don't think I could right now." He turned and grabbed hold of the anvil before him, his left hand gripping the horn.

"I am going to evaluate these Cael, to find out how they were made and how we may break them in the future if I can. The creatures adorned with this'darkness are not natural. What hope for the rest of us if we can be so easily breached by their kind?" His knuckles whitened on the anvil; there was determination in the wolf branded face, and a little hint of fear in his eyes.

"You said something once when I was crafting your sword that led me to believe that you could assist me in this endeavor. It was something to do with hearing the whispers in the dark, do you remember that?" Kruger didn't wait for the answer, he was sure Cael would remember as well as the smith did. He moved over towards the table the dragon sat upon, and turned to look on the Ebonsteele. "I hear the whispers too. I want to speak to the pieces Cael, but the whispers block me. I can't see them but when I try I can feel them move against me. I can't destroy those sentries because it could affect the memories I am looking for. I need time to get through to them, but I won't get that alone. This will take all of my concentration. Can you help me??

Giving a final look to Cael the smith waited for the answer, hoping that he was correct in choosing this particular Guardian.

Kruger looked to the dragon on the table; his brows sank slightly, as cheeks rose in a look of concern. He dragged a raspy breath into his lungs before speaking to Cael. "I'm afraid the time is now Cael, do you feel how the metal strengthens over time" There will not be a better time to do this"I should have done it hours ago when I found it. I should have begun the moment I brought it back here. I know the hour is late, I am tired, you may be tired but there is a pot of coffee over on the fires. I don't expect to sleep this night."

The coffee in the pot was stronger than Kruger liked. It passed over his lips and left a bitter coating on his tongue, it was all he could do to swallow the brew that was just short of rancid. The duels had taken a lot out of him tonight, and he was very weary. The effects were not immediate, but the man was soon wired awake. His hands were jittery, a little with apprehension and a lot with caffeine. Normally he wouldn't work this way, but he wasn't making tonight.

Kruger laid hands upon the individual pieces and began to sing in a voice of gravel and stone. The Ebonsteele sucked at his aura as he began. Kruger had begun though to stop now would be inherently dangerous. He had to rely on Cael to watch what he could not spare time for. He felt it then, a lightening of the forces gathered against him. His chin came up with that defiance that always preceded action. "Occupat hunc spiritus invoco tenebras terra ferrum." He sang his call to the spirits of the metal. To the elements themselves used to form this dark armor.

Elemental earth spirits formed one above each piece of the metal and screamed to the smith in pain and anger. The sound of their voices was an avalanche on the move, a landslide broad and high that mows down all it comes into contact with. Kruger did not flinch, instead he sang louder changed his tempo to match the vibrations in that avalanche of voices, he sang words to soothe. The earth is unlike all the other elements. It can be formed and reformed as needed. It can hold that form until time and use has forgotten the why of the form. The earth is the element most like a true slave. Kruger heard their pain and anger as that of S?jira, and it tore at his chest. Born into her life she knew no other way, when the life was gone still she was the same. It made her more beautiful to him.

She reminded him of a spire that had been carved eons ago and outlived the civilization that had carved it. Many hundreds of years later another group found this spire, and made their life around it. It was a part of their daily lives. To Kruger she was that spire, and he the people who settled at its base. He would form his life to her. It was these feelings he gave to the spirits, love honor and respect. Everything he felt for her.

"I know nothing of the metal, no I do not." The dragon was perched on the table, staring at the man as he worked. Oddly enough, both eyes had shifted to black. While Kruger was moving for the coffee, the dragon began to mutter in his own tongue, a language long dead, long forgotten. And for good reason. As he spoke, he grew larger, not in size, but in presence. His scales shifted, his image wavered. In a matter of seconds, the dragon had left this plane and was straddling the two of them, his own home and the one Rhydin called home.

His voice grew lower, almost a whisper. Each word hung in the room, seemed to hide in the shadows and clutch at the darkness which was pouring off the dragon and falling from the man as he worked. With a subtle shift in motion, the dragon stood and stalked towards Kruger, an almost hungry glare in those dilating pupils. His place was found, at the man's side while he worked, eyes still tracking the darkness as it fell from the smith. With a quick motion, he was standing on his back legs, wings spread to form a covering over the man. This time, he spoke in the native tongue, a slow sound, rolling and almost hollow.

"Your's is the darkness that hides the truth, the darkness that ends the light. Your's is the darkness that hides those who watch and those who wait, the blanket for those who would bend the shadows to his own will, is it not?" The words grew in strength, an almost enraged snarl ending the questions. "Mine is the darkness that starts the day, mine is the darkness that hides those who would aid the ones that can not see. Your's is blindness, mine is equality. For where there is no sight, we are all the same, are we not' And you have made your mistake, yes you have! The darkness is not a tool, not at all. It is a way of life, and it works both ways. You, who would use the darkness, are you prepared to see it used against you?"

A serpentine neck bent, the shadow of the dragon moving with more speed then the physical representation, massive maw snapping as it met the darkness that Kruger expelled, swallowing it whole. As it spread through the dragon's body, his only noise was laughter, hollow and empty as he turned his eyes to a window and let his challenge ring through the night.

A visible calm settled over the dragon, the shadows still dancing under his wings as he stared down at the man on the floor. "You mentioned a name, yes you did. I have spoken to this one once before. Perhaps we should leave, go somewhere to find her" Or perhaps we should hunt the source of this darkness in it's home?"

When all was said and done, dragon became drow again, no worse for the wear. The clothes were still perfect, everything in place. A keen observer might note the eyes though, as black as night but with none of the shine. Simply empty. holding nothing inside of them while holding the world with a stare. This was a dangerous game for the Drow, the shadow dragon. Toying with the darkness brought his own emptiness to light, and that is a beast best kept on a tight leash. With those thoughts in mind, he simply stared off into a wall before coming back to life when the man spoke.

"Yes, yes you did. In your own tongue, you did. In the Common, you spoke a name. Marrissa something. I was busy and did not catch all of her name." The fact that this was new to the man, the fact that it saw him set the Drow to laughing, deep and honest mirth as he stared at him with those dark pools that passed as eyes. "Oh' Did it see you? What else would it have done" Ignore you? No, it saw you. And it might not be happy." What is was, he didn't bother to say. That was something beyone words.

"Yes, we should go but we will not go on foot. I fear that you may have been marked Kruger." He was shrugging at this, stepping out of the door. A few quick words and skin became scales, arms turned to wings. This time though, the dragon was not small, not a horse sized creature. For the second time in his stay in this town, the dragon slipped out of the guise and stood watching the world beneath him, the arrow that cut the night stood poised to fly. With a slightly baleful gaze down, he dipped a single wing towards the fllor and murmured "Mount and do it quickly. Know that you are the second living creature to mount me." Just as quickly, he had forced his legs against the ground, dark wings beating the air. Once at an acceptable level, he turned his head back and shouted "Tell me where to land friend, and I will go. Who or whatever is in this place might not expect a visitor made of the same stuff they are." With that cryptic response, the dragon turned his wings towards the ground, waiting for a command.

Flight had given the dragon the time he needed alone. More mentally alone then anything else, a time to force everything to the back of his mind. While he was unsure of what was about to happen, something in his mind was telling him that it would not be easy, would not be natural. WIthin seconds, he had flipped back into the assassin, the long hidden persona. With no real need, he had almost forgotten. At least, his mind had. His body, not at all.

By the time the two landed, he was well within that shadow, hidden and poised. As he followed the man into the building, past the door and down the steps. His eyes shifted, from green to black, with no luster. One might assume they were dead and wasted, a pair of stones set into his face.

"Oh yes, yes they are Kruger. A blight on this whole world." Flat and emotionless, dangerous and controlled, as both of his hands flipped towards his belt, the blade Kruger had made for him and a dirk, polished obsidian. With a final nod towards Kruger, the drow slipped into the cast shadows of the room. "The perfect strike, the final blow. The killing blow, yes? This is what I will look for. I will follow your lead, yes I will." The words held an unholy glee, honest and total mirth as he stalked away.

"You" were felt...Maker, and—-un-maker. Even before you took what was not yours, yes...Even before you delved into that, which was not yours to delve into' Yes. You were felt?"

Kruger felt those words in his bones; they seemed to vibrate with the reverberations of the chamber. At once he was alarmed, but also intrigued. What had brought him to their attention' He craved the answers to his questions. He should have charged into battle, but then the voice continued.

"You were expected forge master...You were expected indeed."

Now the paranoid smith suspected some form of trap, it was meant for him alone it seemed. That this Warlock could feel only him was strange. Cael was himself a force to be reckoned with; it was why he had asked for his help. As the torches came up, Kruger took note of the large stockpile of weapons and armor. The ones strewn in a seeming haphazardly way did not escape him either. That the cloaked figure controlled fire was something he would need to be wary of. There were times he wished he could conjure the flames in such a way. That thought left him quickly for he understood fire in a way that was all his own. Could this be the trap" Would that armor come to life if he stepped too far forward" In truth he didn't know, but now that he could see the warlock it seemed different than the image he had been shown.

Something was wrong, the warlock kept using the word us and the hooded figure kept dangling bits and pieces of Kruger's involvement here. He needed to know what part he was playing so he could stop it. Kruger's suspicions were confirmed as that whispering voice revealed to him several things. The first was that the feeling of being watched was not just his paranoid delusion. It may still have been but the mention of a two way mirror suddenly pushed any doubts from his head. Right or wrong he believed that he had found his watchers.

You—- interest me, forge master" Actually, you interest us. You—- have done something that no one else has, and it seems in doing so, you have opened some doors not meant to be opened, as of yet...You spoke to the ebonsteele, and it—- spoke to you. Such a thing, has not been done outside of—- well, it's been a long time, forge master. Let's just say, your gift is a considerable one, and one I for one, respect. These words struck him in the strangest of ways, and only solidified his thoughts further, especially when that hood came away to reveal the woman beneath. So small and beautiful, that dark hair though cropped short reminded him of someone. Red eyes instead of black, pale instead of sun kissed, but the look was too close. His breath caught silently as he looked at her. He turned to Cael then and whispered.

"This is not the one from my vision, an apprentice of course. This has the feel of a trap to me; we may need more men to get to the bottom of this. Call as many as you can, and wait for them at the tunnels mouth. I will delay this as long as I am able, worst case I will need my bacon saved." Kruger could see the doubt in Cael's eyes, the man complied but it was certainly not his most willing act.

Kruger watched the elf walk back into the darkness before turning to meet those exotic red eyes. "It's been you all along then hasn't it?" He began a slow advance of his own towards her, keeping his hands visibly away from his hammers. "Not you personally though, there have been times that the presence has felt more malicious. Lately however"how long have you been left to yourself" Why have you needed to watch me so closely?" His advance had carried him almost halfway into the room to meet hers. He stood mere feet from her, the closer he got the more attractive she became. He stepped once more, bringing him close enough to feel her breath on his skin. He was close enough to smell the brimstone of the forge on her clothes.

He reached his right hand forward and laid his palm on her cheek, a calloused thumb slid along that unblemished cheek bone. "What is your name" Was that you I spoke to in the alley that night' If so why did you stay when I was at such a low point?" He brought his face forward now, towards hers but passed it by to put lips to her ear and whisper even more quietly. "What information could you have gained from watching me make love?" This last question brought had him angry, and even embarrassed.

He jerked his hand away and stepped back to gauge her reactions, his brows furrowed with emotion. "What do you and your master want with one simple smith?" It was his turn to look to the double doors now. The way this place was set up seemed so like his place. Clearly this pre-existed his forge by as much as years, if the labor were done manually. Therefore it was he who had tuned into them, inadvertently of course, but why had it happened" "I do have many questions, how far I go will depend on what answers you have to provide me. Where is this master of yours?" He returned those eyes of sundried grass to her red ones and waited for the beginning of the answers he sought.

Her touch was cold, but not unwelcome, how long since it had been given" There was an ache in his chest as lips poured that honeyed word into his ear. A lick of his lips ended with that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth. Eye lids shuddered at the thrill of her breath on his skin. Kruger needed to master himself and only had that hand's-breadth moment to do it in. Had she caught the quickening of his breathing" He could hide is expression, but that one voiceless sound was as much a clarion call as trumpets from the rooftops.

It only took a fraction of a second for her to speak and move away, but Kruger had lived minutes perhaps even hours. When she stood once again by her chair asking him if he knew""truly' knew to use her words, he had a passive look on his face. He wondered what it was he felt from her, a link that couldn't be seen but had a weight of anchor chains. Finally she wanted to know if he could reverse it, Kruger poured himself into the chair she had provided him. He put elbows to knees and laid his face in his palms. He needed a moment to consider what she was asking of him. He still expected a trap, but was it hers or his" It didn't matter at this point; traps were born to be sprung. All he could do was hope that he was prepared if it came.

Kruger considered once again those hammers at his waist so aptly named Heaven and Hell. He could feel the crossroad upon which he stood; the next few moments would determine his fate. He seemed to put himself in this position a lot recently; it was this notion that had given rise to the pair. A metaphor for the crossroads he constantly found himself standing at. A few more breaths before he favored her with those eyes that went from green to golden brown. He may have found himself outmatched again, but he pushed forward anyway. Her question was simple, but the answers were complex.

"I was fifteen when I left my master. I believed he was afraid of how easily I worked the forge. Always he watched me as though doubting that I had followed every step of the process. I had tried to explain to him on many occasions that the forge seemed to speak to me. That the pieces all of them had their own voice." Kruger searched her face for understanding. Others had seen his process and walked away in disbelief. He didn't get that feeling from Ahnika, true enough that he didn't really know what he was getting with her.

"My master gave me the journeyman's forge for the years of service I had put in. He should have had encouraged me to work for a few years, and then create my master's piece. Instead he put me out, and I wandered. It would be five more years before another smith would test me. In my shop there is a Katana, the very one I created for that test." The chamber was quiet except for his voice echoing from the walls and ceiling. He never blinked, nor did he take his eyes from her, but he was seeing a memory.

"I tell you this because it was that piece that made me question what was different about me. I used the proper methods, thirty three thousand folds should take months to complete, but I was able to do it in far less time. At one point in the making I cut myself, nothing serious, I didn't even notice until a droplet fell to the heated metal. It danced across the surface until it finally boiled away. I took it as a sign that the sword wished to be called blood boiler. A silly name I know, but I was young." There was a small upturning to the corners of his mouth at that, Ahnika would see the brand on the left cheek of a wolf with the all seeing eye in his mouth twitch with it.

"I have always heard the music in the forge, that rhythm that drives a tune into my soul. It was no different with this piece, with one notable exception. The distinct voices that I heard singing were joined by my own. I was content in my labor, and that feeling flowed through me and back out. I haven't always understood the voices; I started hearing them as a child. I learned early not to let anyone know, people who hear voices tend to be?" Kruger let the words trail away that upturn had gone flat, and he shook his head his eyes however never left Ahnika.

"When my work was elevated to master's status, I was thrilled to engrave my name into the tang. I even put the swords title in there. For a laugh I tested it again, a drop of blood from my fingertip. It sizzled as though the metal had just left the fires, but the blade remained cool to the touch. I told no one of this for days, not until a wizard named Jack came to me and asked me why I carried a possessed sword. I had no idea what he was talking about. Sure I could hear the sword speaking to me, but I had always heard such things"Do you understand what I mean?" His eyes narrowed at the admission before they dropped to the floor. He had to look away in order to continue.

"Jack was able to hear the spirit inside the sword. A dragon lich, he was able to make it tell him what happened. It had heard the music"no I mean THE music. It came because it felt it had no other choice. It watched over me as I worked that metal. It was there in the moment that the sword went through the process of receiving its soul. It had even reached out to caress the metal as it was rapid cooled. It happened so quickly that it became trapped. Jack asked it how it made it through the barrier, and it told him in that moment which it came the barrier was like a waterfall hiding a cave behind it. He simply stepped through." Kruger chewed at the cuticle on his thumb now. When his story had commenced it had taken almost no time before he had his eyes back on hers.

"We were able to expel him from the sword; Jack said he needed to investigate this further. He left in pursuit of knowledge, but he must have learned a little too much because his body was found several weeks later. It has taken me years to fully understand what happened. I had only my process and my limited understanding to work with. Three years ago I left to find the final answers. I was close but there were too many distractions here. I left Rhy"Din behind. Four months ago I returned with my knowledge." He sat straighter now, an unconscious acknowledgement of an arrogance that he would not allow his self to utter.

"It is a seven part process, but I am sure you already know that'don't you? As for wether or not I can reverse it' If it has been made it can be unmade. Can I unfold the steel?" He gave a small shrug and let his eyes travel to the armor that filled rack and floor. "The question is what would you have me reverse and why?"

It was her turn to respond to him. Kruger let his gaze flit from piece to piece before coming to rest one last time on Ahnika's unblemished face. "Qui tollis peccata mundi, Dona eis requiem, Sempiternam, sempiternam requiem." He said it softly, a prayer for what he knew about the Ebonsteele. He was on his knees at those cross roads now. Would it be Glory or Hellhounds"

As he stood, he heard Cael's voice across the winged and haloed badge. A ten twentyfour, Kruger hadn't memorized all the codes quite yet, but this one was ingrained into him. Gardian in trouble, send help. Time was indeed running short, a look to Ahnika and her discarded sword belt decided him.

"Can you bar the entrance" It would not do for us to be disturbed before we finish." He pulled his shirt over his head discarding it on the chair behind him and moved towards those black flames. His own weapons belt was loosened, but he placed it over his shoulder. He didn't stop to count omens, or he may have run when he realized that hell was the hammer across his chest.

The eyes had been with him often enough to know the crisscrossing roadmap of the whip scored back. He moved with her, two forms that seemed to share the same gait. The room was, as he expected, nearly identical to his shop. The ceiling was the same distance from the floor; the pieces matched position with Kruger's Exotic. The main difference was the fires themselves.

"I suspected that layout, and acoustics had much to do with what this. I have never had any proof until now." He laid his weapon belt down onto a workbench; there were pieces on it in varying stages. He half expected some strange reaction from Purgatory, but there was nothing. Perhaps it understood he had made his decision. He would help her, even should it kill him. The people were his main concern tonight. From that bench he retrieved a heavy cross peen hammer and inspected it.

He retrieved a cross peen hammer from that bench, he found it funny that good or bad the tools remained the same. This was not some elaborate bard's tail where the tools of the players matched their alignment. This was real life, and there would be no reason to embellish a simple tool. Kruger took a moment to inspect the works in progress, a nod of approval at the workmanship. He turned back to Ahnika the door was closed and bolted.

Was that concern on her face" Did his look similar" The air had already begun to heat up, it was welcomed to him. This place was so familiar, he didn't feel any different here than in his own place. "I'm sorry it has taken this long to get here. How long once we start before he understands what we do here" How quickly can he move against us?"

He was ready to begin, looked forward to it really. To work with her would be to work with himself. Already their movements within the forge seemed to complement each other. Why had she not contacted him sooner" Why did it have to be now, at the end" It seemed a little strange perhaps that he had come here to destroy her, and now he was working with her.

He had known almost from the start that this would test his resolve. If she were having the same misgivings about her actions, then perhaps they were each other's opposite. They would meet in the middle, and make or unmake such wonders. He would save her if he could, but that was his nature. Did that mean she would destroy him if she could" He had no time to worry over it; there were bellows to work, and fires to attend to.

"I need to know exactly what we are undoing, you are right to say alone it will not work. Together I don't think there is anything we could not create in this place, or destroy for that matter. Where were you when"never mind, let's get to work." He fought down his regrets for the past, that feeling that they should have noticed one another before. Perhaps though they had, maybe it was this that took him from Rhy"Din to all those other worlds.

"Ahnika"why do I regret that we may only be able to do this once?" He meant working with her, they both understood the danger that was involved here. He looked to her making her preparations, and understood them in a way that ranged beyond intimacy. Yes he would save her if he could, and mourn her if he couldn't. At the thought it hurt to look at her anymore, he turned his attention away, seemingly back onto his own preparations.

He had one final question before they started a curiosity more than anything else. She still worked near him. "He will be able to counter this eventually, but the blow will be wide reaching, yes?"

Ahnika had left him alone, the equipment would let down those who were run by the belief that things of dark power must be cruel looking and misshapen. The truth of the situation was that had the fires not burned blackly he would easily have thought himself in his own forge. Ahnkia had left Kruger a single piece of the Ebonsteele to work with. This had perhaps been his mistake, trying to bite off too much at once. He had done so before, and was perfectly comfortable with the fact that he would do it again.

He acknowledged her leaving, but only peripherally, his mind already begun the preparations he needed to go through. With one piece of armor, he would be able to deal directly with the spirit that inhabited it. That he understood this was Ahnika's father would be a great advantage. Kruger would have preferred to take the same route he had before, but this was more urgent. Time had turned against him; he understood it to be a fickle lover anyway.

He turned to the chest piece and laid it across the anvil, this was his alter and his ceremony. Soon enough it would be his war, or so he assumed. Even if Ahnika safely defended him more would come, if all else failed He was sure Raven himself would come, and he just couldn't see a way for him to defeat that head on. This was his opportunity to make a difference, his moment to shine a light in the dark. It would be tiny, perhaps insignificant but it was what he knew above all other things.

The delving began with the usually ceremonious callings and greetings, except these were now punctuated by weapon blows and the sounds of battle. He had long since abandoned the notion that nothing occurred in these first few moments. His hands went down on the chest piece; the thing seemed to have its own aura. It felt as though it were trying to swallow him, a strange feeling as the other pieces had not felt this potent or personal. He began his delving, the song that had sprung in his mind sung to the spirit possessing the dark armor. There was resistance to the delving, another thing that hadn't occurred before. He pushed forward more insistently, his song filling his ears from the inside, threatening to break free by any orifice if he failed to continue giving it voice. The resistance pushed back at him growing in strength matching him, as though knowing that if he broke through the spirit on the other side was doomed. Kruger assumed his fate would be much the same if he should falter.

Memories began to ebb and flow through his vision. There was at his chest a burning as a handprint over his heart. It pushed into him taking him to every moment when he would have wished for death but kept on through strength of will, or through defiance. He saw all this as though another were looking at him, his face and his determination. The burning hand print seemed to close over his heart; it flexed and released pumping his blood for him, but turning it to fire in his arteries. The blood fire passed swiftly through his chest and abdomen, up through his neck and shoulders. His mind turned to fire as well, the song of unmaking now burning him from the inside out. It was only when that fire had reached his eyelids that he realized they had closed, for they sprung open.

It was through that heated vision that he saw as he had never seen before. He could immediately see the elemental spirits he had called; he could see the shifting of the barrier between physical and metaphysical realms. It shifted only, still remaining solid but something was happening to it that was certain. This all would have amazed him, but it was a pale second to what he saw standing across from him, palms to the Ebonsteele singing a song meant to unmake Kruger himself.

Things began to make sense to the smith as he watched the spirit who fought him so forcefully. The words of Ahnika came to him again. "You" were felt...Maker, and—-un-maker. Even before you took what was not yours, yes...Even before you delved into that, which was not yours to delve into' Yes. You were felt?"

Kruger looked on the specter that inhabited the crafted armor, and he knew everything. He smiled at the spirit, smiled a pearly grin, but his eyes were set directly on its face"He looked upon himself, or at least some version of himself. There was no scar branded beneath the left eye, Kruger would bet that there was no crisscrossing of scars lining its back either. This version of himself had missed that episode of Kruger's life. The creature's eyes however were hard, far harder than Kruger believed his had ever been. There was in the spirits face however a sudden recognition that Kruger could see him. In that split second a single note faltered from that spirit.

"Can it be so simple?" Kruger's world shifted. He was aware all at once of two things. The first was that he had won the battle of the songs, but the second was more disturbing for him. He stood to the side of the forge he could see that both the spirit and his own body were still locked in combat. He could tell that the spirit grew weary with its efforts. The barrier between was still shifting, but it was easier to determine what it was in either state. One moment it was a wall, solid and strong and in the next it flowed as a waterfall. The waterfall moments were growing longer and longer.

The spirit turned at his words, a look of disbelief crossing its features stopping its song all together. "I cannot beat you, I haven't the strength." That voice was so like his own, it was his own, seeing for the first time what it meant to feel defeat. It moved through the forge as though looking for an escape. It backed away from the waterfall though It had no intention of going in there.

Kruger watched it but made no move to close with it. In his mind he still had questions; every time he learned something new here he had questions. "Why did you die?" He moved now, stepping around the anvil and looking at the armor from a new perspective. There was from this side of things a place where the spirit would fit. Within that space were the shackles that bound him to the armor. The space was too small for Kruger, and that solved another riddle for him. He looked once more at the other Kruger and saw that indeed he was smaller.

The other ground his teeth at Kruger and snapped words of venom at him. "She killed me, that is why I died." For a moment it looked as though it would charge him, but then it also looked to the physical body of Kruger. It had begun to remove the padding that went to the chest piece, still singing. The elementals around the forge were entranced by his song. They offered small contributions to the music that only Kruger could seem to hear.

Time worked strangely here, Kruger couldn't tell how long had passed, did Ahnika still fight' Had she won, or did she lie in a pool of blood. Kruger considered these things as he now moved forward towards the other. "Yes but why is what I asked you. Why did you die?" The last was said as Kruger put his hand on the shoulder of the other. Another shift took place, Kruger watched the ordeal of the others death in reverse. He could feel the echo of the blow that had done the other in. She had come to him in shambles, desperate in her need. Kruger near wept to look at her. She told him of the brutal attack she endured. Kruger began to go livid, then she told him of who had done it, and a cold mask of steel closed down over him. "Impossible, I don't believe you child."

Kruger felt the blow again, and again, it seemed to be the final thought of this spirit. The other refused to let go of it. Kruger ripped his hand way from the other. "What do you believe now" What would you have done to any if it was true"and moreover what would you have done if you had been her and heard you say those words."

The other backed away wide eyed. There was no telling what he had endured from the contact. A brief moment in Kruger's past perhaps. Whatever it was he was visibly shaken, there was movement from its hand going to the left eye"a working of the shoulders that seemed to give Kruger an exact idea of where it had gone. "Your death is one of shame"no wonder"I said what do you believe NOW?" Echoes didn't form here it was an odd feeling not to have something so familiar.

The other backed and knelt before Kruger. "I know it true now?"

"Get up"I won't be bowed to! How long"and you have never told her, never forgiven, never let her know you were wrong. How proud you must be to have created such a legacy of death. She fights for her life now and the lives of so many others?" Kruger pointed to the wall, and though it seemed solid it became opaque. Through it could be seen Ahnika in her battle. She was wielding two weapons, but they were a blur, not that she was that fast, they simply could not be focused on. Kruger wondered at that for a moment, before becoming lost in the fight. Distraction here was a powerful thing.

Ahnika went down, the thing known as Mistianne closed in for the kill. "NO!" It was cried by two voices so similar, that it could have been same one. In this place it was more though, it was a missing sound, an echo' that thing that Kruger had noticed missing from the beginning. An echo had power here; Mistianne looked over in dismay, a momentary look but enough for the crouching Ahnika to move and strike.

Mistianne seemed ready to take the blow and continue on with her assault. Kruger saw a blur cross the forge and stop to hold back Mistianne's stroke. The other had her arm; he looked to Ahnika and spoke a few simple words. "I'm sorry daughter, forgive me for not believing." Mistianne was locked in both realms; she shoved the other away and continued her fight. Ahnika's blows were doing massive damage to the Death Knight, but it refused to give in. Kruger believed that given its prey, it would not submit, or die easily. These things were all the result of Ahnika's work; they would never forget what she had done to them.

The other seemed to realize this as well. He looked around trying to formulate a plan, Kruger was doing the same. As one their gaze hit the waterfall. The physical Kruger had advanced quite far in his operations. The chest piece was glowing nearly white as he brought it from the forge. The other two looked at one another. There was a only a moment to react to what was coming. The song had continued the ebb and flow taken its course. They both knew that unmaking was coming through that portal the moment it opened. Kruger watched the other rise and move in the direction of the well which Ahnika had spoken of. He stopped as though contacting an invisible wall. When the hammer finally dropped there was a ringing unlike any Kruger had heard in the physical realm. There it always seemed a bell; here it was a cry of so many emotions a host of voices calling out for a single need. In here Kruger saw the barrier vibrate with that call. Kruger saw the blow shatter those shackles that held the other back from the well. The other had enough time to look over his shoulder before being forced through the opening.

There was that shockwave again, but this time it seemed not to touch physical Kruger. Spirit Kruger felt it though, as did Mistianne. Kruger had only a moment to see her eyes go wide, on her armor a single rune glowed white, and then changed. The wave from that blow seemed to be spreading outwards like a tidal wave gaining force with each passing moment. It seemed to erupt only on this plane though. Kruger saw a golden rope; he clung to it for all he was worth, pulling himself along it. Strange he had not noticed it before, it seemed so obvious now as it protruded from Kruger chest, and into the man at the anvil.

Kruger took up the song as he pulled himself back to his body. He would need to pick it up exactly when he was back inside himself. That burning energy still flowed through with his blood, he could feel it as he started back inside, just before he entered fully he heard something begin to emerge from the waterfall. He tried to late to turn and see what it was, when he considered it later he would realize that he did best not know who or what came to the forge that night.

The energy was pulled from him he could feel it rushing from his body but he continued his song. He knew at once that something in the steel had changed. It still held that color, but its presence was just a shadow of what it had been, perhaps what it would ever be again.

He sank to his knees when the labor was over. He would have stayed there but Ahnika may need him on the other side of the doorway. He rose and went to the workbench only to discover that his hammers were gone. Kruger kept the cross peen hammer he had been working with and moved to open the door to the room beyond. "Ahnika?? He was tired, and weakened from the work of this night, but he would fight on, and on as long as his limbs could swing a hammer.

"You insolent bitch, how dare you stand against us! I'll see you ended daughter-mine!"

Mistianne slowly rose to her feet, as ice was shaken from her armored form. The wild eyes of the death knight, boring such a hole within the one she called daughter and traitor in the same breath. A slow crack of neck, as those axes were twirled a bit for measure, while a step or two were taken towards Ahnika, who in turn did not falter one damned bit, as she too began to step towards the woman she called mother, with nary a weapon in hand.

"I told you Moth-Mistianne, walk away while you can and leave us to do what we need to do, before I crush what little soul you have in that whored out husk of a form, Raven saw fit to leave you with!"

"Whored out husk, is it' My, haven't you gotten a bit of a back bone all the sudden, hmm' I guess it wasn't enough to simply leave you here, away from everything else was it' No, I guess not—- but don't you worry baby girl. Momma is here now, and I'm gonna make it all better when I beat you into submission, and then take the head of that human of yours in the forge! Raven knows what you did child, and he is none the pleased. In fact he wanted you dead! But that's alright, because when you watch me torture your friend there till he begs me to end it, you will wish you were dead all over again. And you know what? Maybe this time around, I can rid you of that damned humanity of yours!"

As she had been speaking, Mistianne shook off the last bits of the iced prison that Ahnika had encased her within....The axes in the death knight's hand twirled yet again, as steps were taken towards Ahnika, who in turn went straight for the woman she called her mother, and now—- her enemy.

"My humanity is what kept me from ever being like you and the others, and I'll be damned if you or anyone else takes that or anything else away from me again!?"

"Bold words, daughter! Let's see if you can back them up!"

Crying out in a sheer rage, Mistianne rushed dead on at Ahnika, who had little time to even act, as the death knight reared back those axes, and let loose with a solid cross cut, hoping to end the confrontation in one swift measure.

Ahnika however, had other ideas in regards to her mother's intentions....

Sliding to her knees, she avoided Mistianne's attack, quickly countering with one of her own, as runes of frost violently flared to life around the forge mistress!

Suddenly a pillar of ice erupted from the ground, slamming into the gut of the angered death knight, who in turn was taken completely by surprise, as the wind was soundly knocked from her form, causing her to also drop her axes in the process.

Ahnika did not stop there, as her arms quickly outstretched and then pushed forward with such intent the runes she summoned exploded in all directions, as the pillar thrust forward with the somewhat impaled death knight upon it, towards the ceiling, where stone and ice met with Mistianne in between for measure.

The force of said impact causing the death knight to cry out in such anguish, as such darkened blood splatter from that mouth of hers, as she tried to get some bit of air in those lungs of hers with such gurgled gasps of sheer desperation.

Gasps Ahnika would not allow her 'mother', what so ever.

Once more the the runes were summoned, as they answered the call of their mistress, flaring to life with such crackles of a hunger yet to be sated, as Ahnika measure Mistianne up once more, the breathing of the force mistress heavy as she spoke, "I told you, I'll be damned before any of you take what?s mine from me! ANY of YOU!"

Her hands forming in a pair of tight fists, as they slammed into the base of that pillar that still had Mistianne pinned to the ceiling, as a shock wave was sent upwards through the pillar itself, directly towards the pinned death knight, who offered no resistance what so ever, as the impact shook the room to it's very foundations, knocking so much to the ground, from its sheer ferocity, as shards of ice exploded all over the room, itself.

Ahnika did not falter one bit, they did not cower, or even seek to shield herself, as shards cut her small frame all over. Defiant was the forge mistress, as she watched the spectacle, despite bleeding all over.

And she was not done either...

Mistianne fell to the stone floor rather unceremoniously, in a rather crumpled and quite bloodied heap. The impact of the wave, causing such damage to their armor of hers, not to mention what lay underneath.

Yet as she fell, a good portion of what was left of that iced pillar did not.

In fact, it hovered above the fallen death knight.

Shards, and spikes....Blocks and chunks of ice...

All held in check by Ahnika, as bloodied hands were outstretched towards the woman she once called 'mother' in a pure love.

And with a swipe of hand, it all came crashing down upon Mistianne in the most horrific of manners.

"I told you— no one..." Ahnika said rather in a rather exhausted manner, as she sank to her knees in a somewhat pool of her own blood. Her body a right mess, as more and more bruises began to appear on that form of hers, in addition to the old ones, and the fresh cuts and scrapes from the ice. Her breathing was ragged indeed, as she hoped she her outburst had been enough to end this in one fell swoop.

After what had felt like forever, yet in truth was mere minutes, Ahnika decided to rise once more, using some debris to assist her, crying out in pain, as she did so.

Her body ached all over, and more so felt like a dead weight, as it took that much effort just to rise to those feet of hers, even with assistance.

And the pain seemed to grow more so, with each passing moment.

Crying out, as she doubled over, Ahnika sank to the ground once more, clutching her chest, as darkness began to creep in from the peripherals of her vision, as her eyes widened in shock to what she began to see.

The sight of her own blood leaving her form.

Rising from her, with runes of blood crackling aside them.

Crying out in sheer agony, she twisted and twisted feeling her insides being shifted and pressed against, by an unseen force.

Across the room, debris began to shuffle, as ice and stone gave way to a battered hand, and then an arm. More, and more debris was shifted, as a disgustedly battered and bloodied Mistianne pulled herself slowly from the rubble.

"I told you—- let's see if you can back—- it up. Your spent child—- used it all, when you knew better. Hope it was worth it, because now you're mine, b*tch!"

Ahnika continued to write in such agony, as Mistianne began to right herself, as best as she could, which consisted of popping joints back into place, and pulling off that chest piece that sank into her form earlier. The piece tossed aside, as steps were taken towards the forge mistress, as a moment was deftly taken to recover those axes of hers.

"What's that' I'm sorry, I don't speak whiny whore! You'll have to forgive me, but don't worry! I'm gonna keep you around long enough for you to see me, kill that mortal of yours, and turn him into my personal &*^%!"

Ahnika offered a whimpered response, barely audible...

A brow was somewhat raised, as Mistianne took to a knee to better here that whimper, relishing in the suffering of the forge mistress.

"Say it louder, love—-heh."

Suddenly, a frost rune flare ever so briefly and before Mistianne could react, a spike of ice erupted from the ground below Ahnika, through the forge mistress' upper left chest, and literally impaling Mistianne's jaw from below with the blunt force of a 2X4 as the death knight pulled back, howling in pain, with blood spraying in all directions, as she fought the impaled spike with all she had, dropping the axes in the process.

The runes of blood dissipated as did those of frost. The spike vanished from Mistianne's jaw, leaving a gaping hole that bled furiously, like the wound of Ahnika's. Mistianne quickly recovered those axes, as a gutteral growl escaped the death knight.

Ahnika rose to her feet, with arms outstretched. Suddenly a pair hammers appeared seemingly from no where, as she eyed Mistianne carefully, "Collateral damage, b*itch— now we end this, you and I."

Mistianne was spent, and she knew it....

She had fallen prey, to the very thing she had assumed Ahnika had. The twisting of blood was took an immeasurable toll on a death knight, and it was a terrible gamble to lose.

Crying out once more, Mistianne charged Ahnika with those axes swinging wildly, as the younger countered with those hammers of hers, left and right. The impact shaking each woman to the core, yet neither would yield at all, as they swung back and forth in such a furious and wild manner!

Moments passed, as the pair remained in that steadfast cycle of swing and counter, pushing each other to such limits, as their insides screamed as loudly as their outsides, and more so!

Again, and again they went, as Ahnika refused to let Mistianne gain any ground what so ever, and the death knight refusing the same of her daughter as blow upon blow rained down upon each of them!

And somehow, Ahnika had slipped...

Ahnika went down, the thing known as Mistianne closed in for the kill. "NO!" It was cried by two voices so similar, that it could have been same one. In this place it was more though, it was a missing sound, an echo....that thing that Kruger had noticed missing from the beginning. An echo had power here; Mistianne looked over in dismay, a momentary look but enough for the crouching Ahnika to move and strike."

Mistianne seemed ready to take the blow and continue on with her assault. Kruger saw a blur cross the forge and stop to hold back Mistianne's stroke. The other had her arm; he looked to Ahnika and spoke a few simple words.

"I'm sorry daughter, forgive me for not believing."

Ahnika's eyes widened....The words— those words she had longed to hear, for so long....The words— those words...

'Forgive..'

Inside she cried out, to the heavens themselves! Memories of old were let loose in a torrential wave that swept throughout the forge mistress, as she called out in turn.

"Father, forgive me! Forgive me, and help me set this right! Guide me! Guide me!"

A renewed vigor welled within Ahnika, as her body felt so— refreshed....Almost whole, even.

Mistianne however, was locked in both realms; she shoved the other away and continued her fight.

And then— Ahnika cried out, and pressed the attack once more, throwing all else out the window, so to speak!

Ahnika's blows were doing massive damage to the Death Knight, but it refused to give in. Kruger believed that given its prey, it would not submit, or die easily. These things were all the result of Ahnika's work; they would never forget what she had done to them."

The other seemed to realize this as well. He looked around trying to formulate a plan, Kruger was doing the same. As one their gaze hit the waterfall. The physical Kruger had advanced quite far in his operations. The chest piece was glowing nearly white as he brought it from the forge. The other two looked at one another. There was a only a moment to react to what was coming. The song had continued the ebb and flow taken its course. They both knew that unmaking was coming through that portal the moment it opened. Kruger watched the other rise and move in the direction of the well which Ahnika had spoken of.

He stopped as though contacting an invisible wall. When the hammer finally dropped there was a ringing unlike any Kruger had heard in the physical realm. There it always seemed a bell; here it was a cry of so many emotions a host of voices calling out for a single need. In here Kruger saw the barrier vibrate with that call. Kruger saw the blow shatter those shackles that held the other back from the well. The other had enough time to look over his shoulder before being forced through the opening.?

There was that shock wave again, but this time it seemed not to touch physical Kruger. Spirit Kruger felt it though, as did Mistianne. Kruger had only a moment to see her eyes go wide, on her armor a single rune glowed white, and then changed. The wave from that blow seemed to be spreading outwards like a tidal wave gaining force with each passing moment.

Mistianne looked like she had been kicked in the gut when the shock wave struck her, as her eyes widened to such a degree, as she doubled over, her axes clattering to the ground, as their matter cried out in pain, and shock.

Ahnika felt it too, and part of her wanted to scream out in pain, as well—- but something else was pushing her. Someone was with her, on this side of the veil and the other. She knew that now, and she felt it true. And she would not be denied that moment to set right that which she wronged..

She would changed her destiny...

"Father....Thank you, and I'll make it right, this time around— fates willing, I will set this right somehow....Guide me father, and free mother to finally be at peace with you."

And those hammers came down upon the head of Mistianne, in the most crushing of ways.

It was over.

Ahnika sank to the floor, those hammers of hers— Kruger's hammers, clattering next to her, as the forge mistress openly wept...

Tears came freely, as Ahnika let it all out. Lifetimes of memories came flooding back in an instant, as she continued to cry.

Softly, she felt something. Akin to a kiss on the wind, it was. And words were heard softly, "Thank you, daughter-mine"

Ahnika's eyes opened, in time to see a light blue outline before her, a woman it was, and in another moment, it was no more.

Nodding, Ahnika ceased crying and just tried to catch her breath, as she her her name called.

"Fath—-Kruger! Are you— you did it. You did it..."

The black flames called to him, they seemed to know him by name. He tried to follow behind Ahnika but the fires stopped him. They seemed to pull at his very soul"we could be all you desire Maker, and Unmaker. You need not go"need not stray from me. Great works could be yours"ours. Life and unlife at your command...by your hand. Power"it had been something he flirted with, an elusive veil that only ever allowed him to toy with the stirrings of its passing. Did he desire more" Want perhaps to be the one who empowered his objects" Could he really consider being less than this" "You would make me"God?"

The exhausted smith turned in the doorway to regard the flames. They swelled and flashed blackly at him, beckoning him back to the anvil, back to the task at hand. Kruger looked to the hammer he held so perfect for the work he did'so necessary for the life he had chosen. To be Hephaestus, Vulcan"no"better than they are, stronger. Mightier than the thunder god who required Iron Gauntlets to wield his Mj"lnir. He was Kruger, The Maker"The Unmaker.

His steps carried him closer to the forge, one hand sliding across a shelf to pick up a piece of the darkened metal. Its weight bulged the bicep muscle on that arm"Kruger held the piece aloft. Already he could see the possibilities of this, the shapes that cried out to be revealed to the world. He could trace every hammer blow that it would take to free them. The flames beseeched him to begin his work. Where one chain breaks another can be forged"You have been chosen before, and again. Everything burns Maker"you burn inside it can be seen by us. It can be felt. The chain to the bellows was taken, and pulled steadily, rhythmically. It breathed as he breathed, this place was his"more than that this place was him. Inside he was the forge, the anvil the bellows and the quench. It was his heart that hammered great works into being"his spirit that called to and was answered by the deities of nature.

The black flames jumped and heated with his ministrations. The spell they were weaving becoming stronger as they grew. Why would they come"what purpose to give as you ask" To see The Maker"to witness The Unmaker. Yours is their adoration, yours is their joy. The powers they bestow simple payment for the honor to witness what it was like at the creation of the universe.

Kruger's breathing was timed with the pumping of the bellows, he stared deep into the darkness of the flames, and they stared back at him. The block he held had been forgotten as he worked. He held it still but the weight was a part of him now. The very floor was a part of him'somehow he knew in this moment that if he wanted to, he could change the entire layout of this place with a thought. Power lived here"his power lived here. His chance to be; that dark metal fell deep into the flames with an overturning of his hand. The sound of metal hitting metal reminiscent of a cell door being closed.

"I AM!"

Singing sounded in the forge, calls to quarters. Acknowledgements of elemental spirits were uttered. The smith had begun his work and this time he had put up a circle meant to keep out those who would work against him. He raised that hammer above his head, a wand befitting the man make no mistake. In a cone of power he consecrated this anvil, his altar.

"So Mote It BE!?

Embers and pain the pieces of him that had gone into that work ripped away, torn as though he were nothing but threadbare cloth. He felt like a rag of a flag whipped into submission by an unforgiving wind. The embers fell down and away but the pain rose within. "Mother...why do you come to me...why now?" She was with him there within his circle.

Brigid sat down before the altar of Kruger. His gasp of disbelief was followed by a saddened look from her. "I am here to learn my son'to learn and aid where I can. This thing you do will kill you if I let it." Her eyes shone with tears unshed; in a face that he could see had already wept itself to dryness once.

He stood before the anvil every point of him could feel the power he had called for. He could feel those energies roll through his chakra weaving in and out. He had achieved a harmony that was nearly perfect and knew the time to strike was now. His eyes dropped to the super heated metal, its glow altering the sundried color into something more menacing. "I'm so tired mother...holding together for so long...holding back the flood with a body that is inappropriate for the job. Please mother...please let this pass from me." His own eyes began to leak though the saline evaporated long before a drop reached his chin.

"One more my son...one more then you may rest as long as you need..." Her face dropped to her palms and the convulsions of sobs rocked across her shoulders. She rose with a freshly tearstained face circling around the anvil and stepping behind him. Hands calloused as the smith's reached around his wide torso and she pressed herself close to his back. "Your pain has just begun Kruger, my beloved son. What comes next will push you to the point of breaking." Her words whispered into his ear with an anguish that he knew would magnify when finally it reached him.

Pain and embers were all he knew then as hands not his own lifted that piece of ebonsteele and pulled it through his chest. He recalled hearing a wail as if a banshee had risen before him and let loose that deadly scream. Brigid held the ingot as only the goddess of the sun could. It was her screams matching his that echoed through the chamber.

The dark fires roared behind her stealing life from the very air and using it to raise itself higher. What are you doing...your actions will kill the smith whom you profess to love. Brigid turned a minty eye to the black flames narrowing with loathing. "This one is not for you. He was claimed long before you set your gaze upon him, and I will kill him to keep him from you."

The black flames exploded from the forge at her, rebounding from the circle that had been set in place. The practitioner had understood his danger so greatly that he blocked access to himself from the physical plane. Brigid's smile was beautiful and terrible as she watched those flames reach in futility. "This one last thing he will do within your walls, and he will not do it alone."

Brigid turned away from the flames and cooed into Kruger's ear once more. "With all that you are through blood and fire I baptize you. With all you can be I anoint you with sacred brine and fill you with the strength of the earth. My son, the Guardian"Forever."

His blood burned, no it boiled within him. The air turned to vapor in his lungs, and his flesh puckered under sweat that boiled away as soon as it appeared. He was the ebonsteele, the earth that created it he was everything and nothing. He was Kruger, maker and unmaker and he was dying.

To know, his perception changed with the shout of that word. He could see a point south of him, it glowed brightly as brightly as his own though he couldn't tell if it flickered or if that were the flames in his vision. The figure of what seemed to be a large humanoid turned to look at him with a panther's eyes.

"Audere" To dare"To the West another figure stood it too held a circle of protection much like the one he and the cat man stood within. A line of white light moved from the cat to the other figure. A pair of knowing eyes turned first towards black coated man and then to Kruger. Her eyebrows arched once but she said nothing. Silently, she stood her eyes never leaving Kruger, yet he knew she watched all that was occurring. "Trelle" To will"that white light crossed to him touching on his circle of power and increasing its glow. Around him the spirits he had called were touched by the light and he could feel them add their strength to this great work. His circle touched to the greater sphere. Somehow this event brought forth that broad grin of his. He knew in his heart that the other points had joined as well in this same way. Kruger looked to a point south and west of himself seeing a figure there.

"Tascere?"The figure said nothing, Kruger could see the finely crafted tomahawk the man carried. And see the markings on him of shaman. The light trailed south and west lighting the circle about the shaman. The smith noticed the look in the others eye and the small nod of approval.

"Ire" all eyes looked to the point above that sphere of protection. The light extended upwards and touched upon a woman whose face seemed to be ever changing. For some of the four she was young or a warrior, another would see an aged crone. The smith looked on and only saw Brigid, she whom he called mother. The light extended from her back to the cat made man. Around them all, a circle of energy came into being on that spiritual plane. Kruger no longer felt the pain of the flames, only the love of all in that massive pentacle. Around him the spirits of Fae, the watchers and mighty ones sang. The smith joined their song ?"brothers sisters side by side?"

Within the forge, the smith still lay murmuring words unintelligibly. His flesh was hot to the touch and his clothes drenched with sweat. Kruger seemed to speak from fever dreams. Around him the forge worked with no one to lay hands on it. He shivered uncontrollably, head resting softly in that lap. He neither saw her, nor could he hear what she said to him. The guardian stood his ground on a plane invisible to most, lending whatever aid he could.

The floor was cold, the fires long since gone out. That was good, probably the only good thing about this night. Was it just the one" Kruger didn't know, part of him wished that he could forget everything that happened since descending into the depths. The rest of him just hurt, no one would understand what had happened, who had come to him. That green eyed goddess with the red hair who visited and left him at her whim. He rolled to a hip and put his back against the forge, pulling his knees up so he could lay his head down on his knees and let his emotions seep out. She had done it before, and would do so again. There truly was no end to his torment at her hands, but that didn't stop him from needing her. A dirty calloused hand reached out for the anvil to pull himself up from his seat. He moved through the forge proper into the outer room and retrieved his hammers, purgatory found their way into the loops in his belt.

He spared a look over his shoulder, a glance was all, but he knew that he had left a part of himself within. He slipped from the room into the corridor that wound its way to the surface. Light greeted him around that final bend. He took to the streets and walked towards Kruger's exotic. He wasn't sure what had happened to Cael, or where Ahnika had gotten to either. The city would not be aware of what had passed this night, not for him. A few perhaps but no one that he chose to think about now. He walked in silence not acknowledging the sound of cheerful hellos that came his way. He was lost in a pair of green eyes that loved and hated him. He would go on, there was no other way for him but to endure. His step was slow with exhaustion and deep thought. Arguments still rang along the streets, nothing had changed. Wasn't that what he was fighting for" Was it'

The door to Kruger's exotic opened at his hand, and he could feel the recognition of the place. It acquiesced to him, and he hated it for that alone. The door sounded behind him, closing like a prison. He looked into his realm and knew it for the small thing it was. His amber eyes shot a look to the ceiling, tears stinging him once again. "Mother" Mo sosanna chro텔 Silence met him, she would come when she willed, and not before.

(end)