The mountain pass was thick with snow as he truded on along the narrow path. Gripping his fur cloak closer to his body, he shrugged away the piercing wind. He kept his body pressed against the rock wall as he inched his way along. He was agile to be sure, but it was still a long fall and a sudden stop at the end of the ride. Sylus had been taversing these mountains for nearly a month now, moving from cave to cave in search of his target. Still he had found nothing of their whereabouts. However he could not stop the search and turn back, he'd done that once all ready, but that was just from a shortage of food. This is what he had been asked to do though...with all of the troubles taking place on the Emerald Isles...Alais had said they would need to ready a defense on this side of the ward in case her group failed in stopping the Annaran force. He had searched out Rhiannon, gaurdian to Queen Teleperien and her daughter. Through Rhiannon he sent a letter to the queen speaking of the events taking place and of what should be done in preparation in case the worst should come to pass.

He knew immediately what problem faced him when Alais told him what he could do to help. Sure he had some friends and allies...but not enough to take on an army that could best Tass and Alais along with whoever they took with them. Through Teleperien, Xeno would be notified along with his Regulai...but more would be needed. So to the north Sylus looked. He was certain that he could not rely on human help for this task. If you want to defeat monsters....you have to send monsters.

Sylus had come across a nomadic tribe on his journey into the lands of Rhydin; and had noted their tracks on his way back to Kelvar all of those months ago. He hoped that they were still up here and had not moved onto another area yet. He sensed what they were right away. They were like him...shapeshifters. The one thing he didn't know was...were they all wolven like he thought they were? To this he did not have any answers. Pulling his hood up higher, Sylus fought through the wind until he came to a wideer path along the mountainside; here it seemed the wind had lessened. He was no longer in the wind trap that was below him. Not taking any chances though, he kept his hood up and trudged on, still searching.

The snow had fallen thick through the night as Sylus slept. Rising an hour before the sun began to peak over the ridgeline, he stretched out a little bit to eleviate some stiffness that had set into the joints in his legs and arms. Growling out a yawn, he packed up his equipment from the small camp he'd made and erased all traces of him ever being there. Looking out from the cave entrance, he could only smile as it seemed a nicer day that yesterday. There was little to no wind, and hardly any ice had formed. To him it felt like it was going to be a good day.

Stepping out of the cave, Sylus began his treck up the mountain towards the fork in the road that was shown on the map. The three mile hike up the mountain path had the lone traveler smiling to himself. The air up here was crisp, clean, and everything around him felt peaceful. Living up here didn't seem so bad to him right at that moment; but Sylus had to remind himself that it may seem nice right now, but after a while the solitude may begin to way on his sense of keeping a social life. Shrugging away such thoughts, he trudged further along the path.

Roughly an hour or more later, he found himself standing at the fork along his journey. Falling into himself, Sylus considered his options and the ideas he had played with the night before. i]Do I, A....continue up the mountain and run into the whole, or see if they were up there and possibly lose time and distance on finding them? Or do I, B....head down into the low lands and hopefully catch up with them if they either rose earlier than myself, or I can cut them off by getting ahead of the tribe? Finally coming to a decision, he nodded to himself and headed down the left fork in the road, towards the ruins on the upper plateau. "Tis better to eliminate an option rather than wonder, What if?" Having made his decision, Sylus went on his way before he could give himself time to reconsider his choice.

It had taken him almost two days to make it down the steep trail that led into the low lands. Balancing precariously on the balls of his feet, Sylus maneuvered himself the last few feet to get clear of the broken ledge that had nearly killed him. With a sigh of relief, the elder Kurgen jumped down from the last fifteen to twenty feet of mountainside to land hard on the frozen ground below. Shaking off the stunning effects from the impact, he was moving again in search of tracks left behind by his quarry.

Dark amber eyes scanned across the small basin that led towards open plains which created the lowlands. Not seeing any signs of life outside of small animals here and there, Sylus started off at an easy lope; heading towards the plain.

Sundown came quickly to this area of the region, and so it was that after several hours of walking, Sylus found himself alone in the dark; with little in the way of rations, and still no signs of what he was looking for. "Damnit, I need to head back." Cursing his luck, he pulled out a small portal stone from his pack and embedded it into the ground. Issuing the quick release spell, the portal blazed to life. With a single step he was back in the city, heading for the market place before it closed.

With yet another fruitless day drawing to a close, Sylus began searching for a flat piece of ground to set up a camp for the night. Finally finding a decent spot, he dug through the layer of snow on the ground so that what meager fire he could create would have some form of protection from the wind. His lean frame hunkered with his back to the mountains, his attention on where he should head next. Along the path that led him here, Sylus had come across faint tracks belonging the group of nomads, and had followed them accordingly to make it this far. After a quick search through his packs, Sylus pulled out the map of this region, and began examining possible hunting grounds in which to search for the tribe.

Pushing his two packs together, Sy curled up infront of the small fire. Arms wrapping around his ribs, he closed his eyes and fought for sleep, with thoughts of Alais, and where his life was taking him in the forefront of his mind.

Gloved hands pounded at the icy ceiling, trying to get a hold on something, anything to stop his path downstream. Sylus had no way of knowing how long he drifted on the current as he continued his frantic search for an escape. "I'm not going to die out here, not in the wilderness to end up as carrion food." He thought to himself coming to a stop against the bend in the river, fingers digging into the soft murky ground. His lungs burning for new air, he drew a dagger from his boot and pulled back his hand as much as the current would allow. Stabbing straight up, the blue steel peirced the ice. Turning the blade a little he widenedd the opening and put his mouth against it, exhaling air and breathing in fresh air. Jerking away before his lips froze to the surface, Sylus brought up the blade again angling the dagger to cross cut the hole he had just made. Slamming the blade up through the ice, he nearly let out all of his air in suprise as his fist followed the weapon into the chilly air.

Eyes wide with sudden hope, he began working at the hole, widening it up so that he could squeeze through. With renewed vigor he hacked and punched at the ice, shattering it open wide, his upper torso burst through the subzero waters with a loud gasp, arms flailing to keep him afloat despite his water logged gear. Numb fingers lost the grip on his dagger as Sylus clawed his way onto the river bank.

Body shuddering uncontrollably he hugged himself tightly shivvering agaisnt the cold, eyes blinking agian and again as he fought the hypothermia. He needed to get up and move, keep his limbs from becoming frostbitten, or from falling off, but he was so cold, so cold. His mind filling up with images of a warm fire, and a warm bed, Sylus began to drift off to sleep, his frozen form huddling on the side of the river bank.

Sylus remained still in his huddled position on the floor, just watching the little creature root through his belongings. Its movements were jerky and erratic. All the while repeating, "Munchies and crunchies in heres somewheres". He watched it for several minutes seeing it throw bread and cheese here and there, obviously it wasn't into grains or dairy. His strength had come back with enough speed to allow Sylus to move into a kneeling position. Looking over his hands and limbs, there were not any signs of frostbite to be found, and of that he was thankful.

Just as he was readying to stand, Sylus nearly jumped out of his skin as the thing let out a gods awful screech, bounding up and down all over the room he yelped and whooped and hollered, clutching something in it's hands. "Knews me find munchies, justes knews mes find crunchies!!"

Barrelling round and round in multipe circles, he watched as it darted too and fro all around the room crashing into shelves, furniture, baskets filled with varrying items, till it finally ran head first into the leg of a sturdy looking table. The little thing rolled around as if in great pain. Squeeling, it's voice reaching an agonizing crescendo it clutched at it's mouth; but before Sylus could move to check on it or kick it for snooping in his bags, the creature was up on it's feet; the object from his rations bag held tightly in its mouth.

Bracing himself for the little creature to go off on another tangent, Sylus kept his eyes upon it, watching, waiting. "Curious little fellow isn't he?" Came a whispered voice right beside the eldest Kurgens ear. Bounding to his feet, Sylus spun around eyes wide. He had not heard anyone else enter, was it his ears the cold waters had damaged? Was he partially deaf? That had him seething, a twist of fate had taken one of his greatest tools from him! " Now now, calm yourself young man. No need to get yourself all aflutter, if I wanted you to hear me, I'd have made myself known." Looking around wildly he continued to scan over the room. "Where are you? Reveal yourself!" Sylus demanded, oh how he hated these games. "Bahh! You're no fun 'tall"

Frowning, Sylus tapped his foot in agitation, now noticing that he was in his stocking feet. From the left of the room came a loud pop and whistle. Then in a poofing plume of purple smoke there appeared the second stranges creature Sy had ever seen. The strangest being the furry animal eating something from his bags. Standing barely three feet high, his dark eyes beheld a small man with gray hair hanging down to well below his knees; the ends thick with filth. Brown, baggy, ratty robes hung heavily along the small beings' frame, a walking stick held light in his left hand. " No fun one iota..." The fellow repeated in a shaky voice. "Well at least you are away, you've been alseep for the past four days, almost figured you for vulture grub. Was considering giving you to my pets."

Sighing heavily, Sylus bowed his head, once again letting his mouth run away with him, leaving the mind behind. In his anger at losing his map, he had forgotten to consider the fact that he was alive; and he owed whoever had saved him much thanks. " I am not fond of games played at my expense." He admitted, probably more to himself than to his rescuer, if that was who this fellow is.

The hermit watched his ward in silence, beady yellow eyes narrowed in concentration. "You are young yet, wisdom comes with age..." As if that was any form of answer the little man bounded up into a little chair and tapped his walking stick against a larger one. "Here sit, there is much to discuss, and unless I be wrong, witch I rarely am any more..I believe you have quite a tale too tell."

"But where should I begin?" Slowly easing himself onto the chair, Sylus watched the old man calmly.

"Why not at the beginning? Tell me what has brought you here.." Smiling serenely the hermit just sat back in his little chair, the small creature slinking over to kneel beside of him, eating an apple.

"Well, this may be hard to believe, but the newest home of someone very dear to me has.." Sylus yelped out of nowhere as something suddenly banged into his shin HARD!.

"No no no! Not there, I want you to start at the beginning. The very beginning of your life! " Huffing in irritation the old man crossed his arms, the little fellow beside him doing the same thing. "When I said tell me of what brought you here, I didn't mean why you were in the river!"

Rubbing his shin, Sylus shot a look filled with daggers at the old man, but the fellow had saved his life...it was the least he could do for the deed that the old man could have just let slip by. What was another traveler lost to the elements? Sitting back Sylus began that very long, and very dark story. Telling the old man of how he was handed over to a complete strange by his parents when he was very young, he told the old man everything. Loves lost, friends slain by his own hand, the violent death of his parents, the angry retribution he hand enacted upon the orc hoard that had done it. Sylus told the hermit everything, his tale spanning hours on end.

The forrest passed by the trio quickly as they set a rugged pace aiming to reach the lower plains. Each of them wore a set of heavier fur cloaks as the snow was thicker in the region than up along the plains. Tramping along their way little was said outside of Snarfle complaining for the millionth time about the idiocy of the choice he made.

"Why did you let me decide to come along with you? Huh! Daftest move I've ever made."

So this is how the second month past, nothing but walking, and the old hermit driving Sylus and the third member of their group, whom still had yet to speak its name, absolutely nuts.

" I made you do nothing, Snarf. You chose to aid me of your own volition." Sylus smiled inwardly as the old man's complaints had actually become a way fo rhim to pass the time with an amused feeling.

"And would you quit calling me SNARF!, sounds like the name of someone's fat house cat. My name is Snarfle Fizzywart! Get it right!" Laughing against the wind the youth and the little furry creature walked ahead of Snarfle by several steps, letting the old man grumble by himself.

The seventh day of their treck found the group rising early. Gathering their gear and setting out again the boys, and critter, were up for a pleasant suprise. Cresting a small hillock, there sprawled out before them was a series of tents.

Amber eyes scanned over the campsite quietly as Sylus moved into a crouch. "See something, laddy?" Came Snarfle's reedy voice close to his ear. I really need to figure out how he does that. He thought to himself as he had not heard the old man approach.

" I think that's the group of nomads I've been searching for."He glanced at Snarfle before turning back to the camp, in time to see the old man halfway down the hill.

"Well then, lets head down and say hello!" Came the response as if the hermit had read the young man's mind.

"Wait! " Sylus called after him as he ran down the hill. "We can't just waltz into their midst as if we own the place. Don't know anything of their disposition, we could find ourselves facing spear points before getting a friendly word"

" Preposterous, the campsite is out in the middle of nowhere and there are not any senturies walking the perimeter, it's perfectly safe. Just you watch." Walking determinedly, Snarfle made straight for the camp, head up, back straight. A bony hand reached out to his left and patted the head of their third companion.

"This is bad on so many levels." Sylus's natural alarms were screaming at him that they were on their way into a trap. Yet the old man kept walking. Hands resting on his twin blades, the elder Kurgen merely followed. "This is a bad idea...a bad idea."

Making their way into the center of the camp, not a soul greeted the travelers. Eyes darting around warily, Sylus never let his gloved hands leave the hilts of his twin shamshirs. "Something isn't right about this, Snarfle."
No reply came to his words as the youth turned to look at the old hermit.
"Snarfle?"
He cast his eyes aroung wildly as the old man refused to answer. Where did the old man go? Spinning a perfect 360 degrees, Sylus found himself alone. Alone! in the middle of a possible enemy infested campsite!

"Ohhhh I'm going to hurt the old man for this, I swear by whatever deity is listening, since I have none of my own." Growling under his breath he began to creep towards the edge of the camp when a familiar high pitched whistle came roaring to life in his ears.

Diving behind the closest tent he turned every which way to spy what he knew was coming. His head had just turned towards the hill where himself and Snarfle had just come from, when he spotted the hermit. His old hand was held high above his head, holding a large ball of flame!
"First he tries to drown me...then he saves me, now he's going to kill me again! That's it...he's getting a gut full of steel"

The tribe of shifters continued to creep closer, taking their time with long, slow, measured steps. Like the wolf just before it springs into action when it has the kill in its sights.

The tension between Sylus and the group was nearing a crescendo. He could hear the blood flowing through his veins, like a dull roar in his acutley sharp ears. Blades coming to the ready, he dropped down a hair to alter his center of gravity. Just then, the throng of bodies parted like a Moses and the Red Sea. Craning his neck in hopes of glimpsing whoever or whatever was approaching, Sylus could just barely make out the top of the figure's head as it made way through the crowd.

"Must be the leader" He mused to himself, readying for a hard fight and flight.

As the shifters finally parted to allow the approaching figure to stand before Sylus, the elder Kurgen's jaw dropped. It wasn't some hulking behemoth, not some walking mountain of muscle, floating at 3' off the ground, there came none other but Snarfle Fizzywart.

The darkness that had engulfed his mind for so long finally began to thin as his conscious self surfaced. And immediately all he could feel was pain.

It surged through his body like a wildfire, no part of him was spared. Wave upon wave crashed over him both pysically and mentally, not once allowing for the possibility of breath to be taken; and let out in agonized screams. Back arched, every muscle in his body went taught as the invisible lashes focused on one spot.

The spot all men prize when blessed by the genetic pool. He wanted to cup himself. Wanted to protect that part of him from the merciless torture, but the chains binding him were not so kind.

Time became irrelevant for Sylus. Just as it seemed his body would recieve a moments reprieve, the pain started all over again, wave upon agonizing wave.

On and on it went, his mnd knowing only pain.
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Hour after painful hour, the hermit stood by and watched as his mistress conducted her revenge. "You brought this on yourself kid." He was grateful that the lads' screams could not be heard, that his mistress would not allow the boy to scream. Watching the young man writhe and thrash about on the stone floor would have turned his bowels to mush years ago; But as it was, he watched the whole show with an air of cold indifference. The kid fought the inevitable, now he had to pay for his mistake. Plain and simple.

Upon waking, the first thing that Sylus wished to do was curl up into a ball and whimper. The pain from the night before still lingering in the body's physical memory. Suppressing a grown, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position; however the chains were still in place, leaving him with no option to seek comfort. The muscles in his shoulders and calves were stretched taught, locked into place from remaining in one position for too long. If he did some how manage to get free, the pain from those sore muscles alone would be what prevented escape. Then the pain would be worse.

The small act of just turning his head to look around make the muscles around his shoulderblades scream. "Forgot how many muscles are in the back" He spat out the words between his clenched teeth. Working his shoulders slowly, he did the best one could to alleviate the pain. Besides, it wasn't like he was going anywhere any time soon. Might as well prepare for when such a time came.

Focusing his mind on making the body relax helped to pass the time, but was ultimately an exercise in futility. The minute he stopped moving this muscle or that, everything locked right back up again. It was pointless to keep up that course of action.

Though no one else could be seen in the room, Sylus doubted his captors would truly have left him alone. With no other options available to him at the current time, he let his mind drift to Alais. Wondering what she was doing now, wishing he could just hold her once before the end. Tell her how much he truly relied on her, cared for her. "Alais....I wish you were here now." The words sounded more like a child missing it's beloved guardian than a grown man missing the love of his heart. What a pathetic sight he must be! "You're off with your own problems. No one can save me but me.." Sighing once again, he did the only thing he could do. Try and keep his muscles relaxed, and think of Alais. Hoping, daring, that she be alright.
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In another part of Daemon Hall, an old hermit paced up and down the length of a crumbling hall way. Thinking of how to go about the whelp's "re-education".

"This is depressing. Go back to Kelvar to settle an old matter, chucked in a cell. Captured and brought here, chucked in a cell. Less than a year between then and now. I'm sensing a trend. Either that of I'm allowing myself to think on the matter too much." Shoving away the nonsensical thoughts, he released a ragged sigh and turned his focus back towards the guards. Walking up and down the hall outside of his dingey "home", the sentries stood three abreast. With a sturdy knife, Sylus knew he could take them easily, but he didn't have one, so the thought was pointless.

After his supposed "re-education" that backstabbing snake Fizzywart had thrown him into this dungeon. The ignorant old fool should have realized from the get-go that he would not submit easily. Sylus had been collard before, he vowed never to let it happen again. " I'll welcome the grave first before I submit to another's will. I am my own Master." He had promised that vow in the blood of his enemies. It was something he would not break. Ever!

" Only a handful of years till my thirtieth name day, and I'm already more jaded than most of the gray haired politicos in any city." Curling his lips in disgust, he ran a clawed nail down the wall, putting another white scratch next to all of the others. To plan his escape, he would need to keep track of the days, though he didnt' know how many, IF any had passed when they brought him to this place. Between being paraded around the halls and the forced subjugation, the first the he had noticed was that all the doors leading to any upper levels were heavily guarded. From that alone, Sylus knew that he was under ground. As he should have realized from the start. The fact that none of the rooms had any windows should have made it really obvious. "Where have my wits gone? I'll admit I'm not the smartest person in the realms, but I certainly have a good enough head on my shoulders to think quicker than this." Scoffing at his own self-awareness he rose and moved about the cell. I may be confined, but that is no excuse to be lax on my training.

Grabbing the support bar that ran horizontally across the silver bars he began to lift his full weight up and down. This routine always hurt, the silver alloy rubbing the skin across his palms raw, sometimes making them bleed. But a little pain kept his thoughts focused, thinking through the pain sharpened his mind. On more than one occasion, he had been going to fast the guards had thought he was humping the bars. Sylus ignored their scathing remarks. They would be dealt with soon enough. All he had to do was wait for escape to present him an opening.

From his own personal count, it seemed that nearly three weeks had passed since he awoke on the metal slab in the torture chamber. Three weeks and the only faces he saw were that of Snarfle and HER. His personal bane. Wait, no, correction, in that list of faces he had to include the small furry creature with it's childlike voice and attitudes. The guards set to watch him constantly changed, leaving him without any chance to lean their habits or pick up anything definite about how they acted.

Sylus was not the only prisoner however, his preternatural senses picked up the scent of other "living" entities, but he never saw a one of them. Which meant they were kept isolated from one another, to prevent any collective thoughts. What one prisoner missed, others would not. What he needed to figure out was, how do I get in contact with any of them?

The guards stood three abreast before and behind Sylus as they ushered him down the dimly lit hallway. Every so often one of the men at his back found the opportunity to give his ribs a good knuckling with the pommel of their blades. He did not fall though, that would only give these men the excuse to beat him. While his injuries healed quickly, he did not care to recieve the beating in the first place.

The shackles that bound him at ankle and wrist had already worn the skin raw. Blood seeping in small incriments helped to reduce some of the pain, but only a little bit. Wearing the blood and beatings like a badge of honor, he kept his unruly maned head tall. Doing the best he could to make it appear that he was a king being escorted by his personal guard. rather than a prisoner being taken to some undisclosed chamber.

Shoved into a small antechamber, Sylus snarled at the door before turning to fix the details of the room in his mind. Chaines lined from the walls and hung from the cieling, but none of that bothered him. "Alright...torture chamber. This is really getting old." Ebony locks shook as he laughed defiantly. The cold chains brushing over his bare skin as he walked towards the rack table. "Better to just get this unpleasant ordeal over with, sooner they throw me back into a cell the sooner I can get to working on better things."

"I don't recall that you were ever one to rush, when doing anything." Whirling around, Sylus felt his jaw hit the stone flooring. Eyes impossibly wide, he backed into the table out of shock. Standing less than ten paces before him stood a woman he knew well. Too well. A white stole draped over a pair of slender shoulders, Rayven Altrua clapsed her hands beneath her breasts, eyeing him like a pawn on a chess board. The royal blue dress that contoured to her shapely frame looked to be made of the finest silk, a pair of matching blue stilettos finished the simple outfit.

Swallowing, forcefully, he stiffened his spine from it's gellatin state. This was not going to be pleasant, not at all. "I have learned a few things over the years" was all he said, suprised to find his voice sounding stronger than he felt.

Over the next several days the "re-education" of Sylus Kurgen became more and more grueling. She did not follow any semblance of what could be a routine. Some times he was hauled into that unadorned chamber at what could only be early morning, then again at what Sylus could only believe to be late at night. He didn't have any way of counting the hours accuaratly, so it was best guess for the most part.

On other days he was carried into the chamber less than an hour after the last sesson, his organ still throbbing, just begging release. Balls aching more in pain than any kind of pleasure, she rode him mercilessly time after time. Then she would just get up and leave to let the guards haul him back to his cell. Through every hour of each day he fought to keep his hold on the Oneness, letting the Void fill him and erase all emotions from his mind.

After the first week he could grab hold of the Void within seconds without even trying. His mind becoming focuse on a single spot, or object. More-often-than not it was the back of his eyelids. The blindfolds making it impossible to see anything, combining sense deprivation with sensation to overload his mind. Without the Void and the Flame to isolate his mind from his body, Sylus would have had only two options. Submit or go mad.

When he wasn't strapped to the metal slab he chose to remain in his cell. All the while working on his body, using the silver bars to perform pull-ups and hanging knee-lifts, tucking his knees up to his chest while keeping most of his body's weight on his arms. Dropping from the bars he followed up the routine with knuckle push-ups and jack-knifes. Lying on the floor, he stretched his hands out above his head and extended his legs. Snapping up, he lifted his arms and his legs making his fingertips brush his ankles above his mid-section, making his body double up on itself.

The constant workouts suited two purposes. On one side it kept his body too tired to be used against him in his sessions with Rayven, and on the other it was keeping him toned and in shape. However, the two combined left him with little time to actually look for the other prisoners. Not like he could really get out of his cell long enough for any definite search.

"There's nothing to do about that now, I guess. Just need to fight through this. Of course, if my heart wasn't pledge to Alais, I -MIGHT- have given in. But I refuse to be anyone's slave or lapdog. I refuse to become that weak."

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Moving silently down the hall, a familiar creature covered in hair listened to those words. Cocking a furry ear into the air it inched closer to the bars, beady eyes widening as it watched the human go through workout after workout.

Days ticked by ever so slowly while he waited for the light of salvation. Seconds felt like minutes, the tick-tock of minutes seemed like hours, and all of those long hours dragged on for an eternity. That fiery orb known as the sun soared past its zenith at a snails? pace, though he could not see that beautiful sphere from his stonewalled cell. Yet hope remained for it was all that he had now. The beacon to light the way for his rescuers had been safely hidden in a small crack along the back wall. An arrow of the smallest making, enchanted to act as a compass for the band coming to his ever increasing aid.
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Shadowed gauntlet rapped on the Dojo door for three strikes before the figure waited with required patience for the guard to look through the small opening in the top portion of the entranceway. The female turk on duty recognized him from a handful of previous visits and quickly acted to get the door open. ?Welcome, Master ??Sylus.?

Sylus tried not to visibly cringe at the greeting because he was no ones? master nor did he ever hope to be. To call another person ?Master? or ?Mistress? beyond the context of jest or flattery, is to place them on a higher level than yourself, diminishing your own value as a sentient being. But this visit to Dojo Darelir was for something important, so Sylus did not bother to correct the guard on what title to call him. ?The Master in the Library.? She went on to inform him, stepping forward as if to escort him.

?Thank you, but I know the way.? He stopped her with a slight smile and a nod of thanks to accompany his words as he walked down the path. Sylus hoped that he remembered where the Library was anyway, because it had been a number of months since his last visit. To his relief, given the time constraint on this trip to the surface, he found his way to the Library quickly as it sat adjacent to the dojo proper. Ever the polite one, he stopped just before the door and straightened himself out, drawing on more of his physical form in that dark and distant place and knocked once on the door.
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The loud screech of rusted iron pulled him from these thoughts as footsteps announced arrival of Queen Bitch of the vampires. Back against the wall he kept amber hues on the ground just beyond his feet, using ebony locks as a curtain to cover his eyes.

Keeping his head down the only thing he saw of her as the cell door swung open were the three inch heeled pumps on her feet and the lower hem of a dress the color of the deepest jade. Without touching it Sylus could not be sure if it was silk or satin, though it did not truly matter. Releasing a tired sigh, head began to lift up and let eyes wander up her tall frame to focus on her lips. For only a fool looks a vampire in the eyes. It is wisest to concentrate on their mouth, chest or forehead depending on their height and/or if the opportunity to run did not present itself.

"I have a surprise for you my pet.? Her tone and those words couldn?t have sounded more ominous. A pair of guards hauled him up, making sure to bruise his back with a meeting against the cell wall, and bound his wrists with a set of silver shackles.

Sylus made sure not to give them the satisfaction of just how much that hurt. All they got from him was a grunt and a slowly released breath. For three months and a half months, fifteen hours, and twenty-three minutes this his life has been a skipping record. Day in and day out he?d received the same treatment. But at least Rayven had stopped trying to break him personally, that alone was a godsend.

So close to the finish-line he would not trip now. Marching out of the cell, those dark amber hues didn?t even so much as move in the direction of where he hid the arrow. Sylus didn?t even think about it. Head held high, shoulders squared, the only thing on the Kurgens? mind was quiet defiance as he walked down the hall. Taking the firm shoves from the guards at his back in stride he strode down that long hallway to the fate Rayven Altrua had in store for him.

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Shadow-flesh solidified just a touch more as he pushed the door open after Xenograg bade him to enter the Library. Seeing who it was at the door the old general was up and moving towards the young man. ?It is you. Good. ?Stepping closer, Xeno put his hand on the doorknob. ?Here, I will get the door for you.? Closing the door behind Sylus? projection, General Xenograg cut straight to the heart of this meeting. ?How long do we have??

It took Sylus a moment to answer his mentor?s question as the lighting in the room made him flicker and draw on more of his physical body to remain in his current state of being against the light. ?We have an hour?maybe less.? The shadow-wraith had to pause for a moment, mind falling back to that faraway cell to check on things before continuing. ?Lately the beatings and other more unpleasant things have been coming more erratic. No pattern to it at all.? Eyes getting thoughtful, Xenograg only nodded and pursed his lips. ?Can you take anything back with you?? Sylus had to pause and think on that one, his mind going back to the narrow crack in his cell that wound its way to the surface like a dried up river. ?I should be able to, but it would have to be small. There is small crack in the one wall of my cell about the size of a dagger handle. It?s how I?ve been getting to the surface when I can?t just materialize elsewhere.? His mind jumped forward a bit, trying to follow the older mans? train of thought.

?Will a single arrow do?? Having walked over and picked up a small arrow Xeno turned to show it to Sylus for inspection. ?Alright, a weapon, that?ll be useful.? Ebony locks fall as Sy nodded in approval. Thoughts of what he could do the next time guards came to visit him in his cell. Xenograg had another idea. ?That?s not its purpose. I use arrows as foci for directional spells. Sylus? real hand snapped it?s fingers back in his cell while the projection just smiled. ?Thought as much. But you can?t blame me for having such thoughts.?

?If you wish a weapon? Xenograg continued as he took a seat in one of the chairs. ?I might be able to miniaturize a sword for you.? On the small table beside his chair the general picked up a small, but fine bladed, carving knife and began to etch symbols into the arrow?s shaft. ?I don?t want to jeopardize the rescue. Just bring a decent set of scimitars with you.? Shaking his head with a small smile on his lips, Sylus watched the man work. Mind totally devoted to the work at hand, the only indication Xenograg gave that he heard the other man?s words was a statement that he would be done in a few minutes.

Arrow held point up, five words, spoken in a tonal language Sylus did not understand, rolled off of Xenograg?s tongue. Rising from his chair the he slowly opened his palm and let the arrow float in the air, turning in all three dimensions before finally setting on one singular point.

?You?re that way?? Xeno motioned to the arrow as it pointed towards the southwest, and towards the ground. ?This is a magical compass to you.?

?So just grab the arrow and take it with m---? Sylus trailed off as his mentor continued to speaks.

?But by taking it with you, the arrow becomes a marker instead.? Extending his hand, Xeno continued to speak. ?When you get back, hide it well. You can bury it without fear of the soil hindering the marker?s function.?

Releasing the General?s hand, Sylus? eyes remained on the arrow; his salvation was at had after months of confinement. ?Hiding it shouldn?t be too hard since this batch of bloodsuckers isn?t too independent of Rayven?s will, unless the vamps are gossiping like a bunch of old maids that is.? Muttering under his breath, Sylus took the arrow before turning eyes back onto his teacher.

?Who else is willing to help you??

Eyes going thoughtful, Sylus scanned his mind for those that would be ready and willing to come to his aid in this time of need. ?Alais would in a heart beat. But with all of the things going on with the Emerald Isle, I don?t want to give her more problems than she already has, though I suspect the home she was building there is going to be her final refuge.? Sylus was not entirely sure how he would like living around all those dragons, because he knew if she moved there to stay; he would follow. Forcing his mind out of this train of dark thought, he focused on the question at hand. ?Besides you and Alais, the only other people who know of my plight are Tass and Tele. But I?m not sure how willing they would be to come and save me.?

?What of your brother? Would he help??

Sylus was prepared for this part of the meeting, but being prepared and actually having to deal with it came to be two separate things. Despite the fact that he was no longer Artemus?s only family, he was not entirely sure if his brother would aid him. Sylus would have liked to think so, but the truth of the matter was that he absolutely had no idea. ?He probably would, since I?m the only family he has besides Amaris. He may not like me, but he has to know that life would be harder without me around.? It was the best answer he could actually give under the circumstances, and Sylus certainly hoped it was true.

?I will seek them out and ask, but this may take a few days. How are you holding up??

?????????????????????????????????????????????????? ???????

?String him up so that everyone can see the ritual.? Rayven?s voice ripped him from the flashback of that night so many weeks ago.

Thick silver chains bound his wrists and ankles as he was hoisted from the ground, to dangle like a worm on a hook over the dais they had erected. Hands gripped his shirt and tore it from his torso as chilled water was dumped over him, a cloth scrubbing away dirt and grime that had been accrued from his time locked in his cell.

?Just because half of him is a filthy mongrel doesn?t mean he has to smell like one.? Rayven?s words were met with laughter and nods of approval as well as several sneers from the disgust many vampires of this coven held towards lycanthropes.

He scanned over the room, amber eyes marking the multiple exits in the room more from habit than any idea of escape. Though he was glad it was on the way.