Peredhil shivered as another gust of wind howled down the mountain pass, threatening to push him over the cliff?s edge. The meeting with Nanjogna had gone well, but he had been warned of an impending threat to Elessar. Now here he was, high in the mountains marking Elessar?s eastern border, gazing down over leagues of picturesque landscape at ominous clouds of black smoke that darkened the horizon.

His three closest advisers and friends huddled around him, Ana leaning lightly on his arm while Elgin and Wes spoke to each other in soft tones. Several yards behind them, a group of the Malonas stood watch for more immediate dangers.

What could be the cause of that smoke, Peredhil mused silently. And what did it mean for Elessar?

Suranda stood, not bothering to wipe off the blood that covered her tunic and smeared her gaunt face and mangy blond hair. The screams gradually died down around her as her companions hacked fiercely at the few villagers still capable of using their lungs. Suranda?s blue eyes, once considered beautiful by many men, held a half-crazed gleam as she looked desperately about for another victim, the bloodlust threatening to overcome her. The sweet scent of death wafted in the air, filling her with an indescribable joy.

Men, women, and children lay around her, their disfigured bodies jumbled together to form a mass of human flesh. A horn blew to her left, and she began jogging towards the sound automatically, heedless of the bodies she stepped on in her haste to answer it. Others joined her silently, until they stood before a massive red-bearded man who leaned casually against a double-edged battle axe, both blades red with blood.

?Burn the bodies!? the man roared, his dark eyes glinting with the same madness that possessed all of them. ?We move west.? Suranda joined the dozens gathered there in a loud cheer. She absently twirled a dagger in each hand, eager to use them again. She knew she would not have to wait long.

The man ? Shroder, he had called himself ? had eaten in silence, gulping down stew as if he hadn?t had a meal in days. Peredhil waited patiently for him to finish eating before questioning him about what he had witnessed.

?Everything was fine at first,? Shroder said softly, turning mournful eyes to meet Peredhil?s gaze. ?Then I noticed that some of the villagers started acting strangely. There was no rhyme or reason about it? it seemed to afflict people at random. Yet there still seemed no cause for concern.?

He ran a hand over his face, his voice cracking with emotion. ?And then it? it infected my daughter. Suranda.? He was crying now, tears staining his grimy cheeks. ?She was my only daughter. How I loved her. So sweet, gentle, and caring. Never a mean word for anyone. And so beautiful too.?

Shroder looked back up at Peredhil, confusion and grief etched on his grizzled face. ?From one day to the next, she became spiteful and ruthless. She took pleasure in tormenting her younger brothers, her mum and me. And then one day?? Heavy sobs consumed him. ?I came home from work to find my two boys and my wife? murdered in their beds.? He began to wail, rocking back and forth uncontrollably. ?And Suranda had disappeared.?

They had moved west on foot, leaving destruction and death in their wake. Suranda had lost count of the number of villages they had wreaked havoc upon, the number of lives she had taken.

Over the past two days, however, the villages they had come upon had already been abandoned, the residents leaving virtually all of their possessions behind in their haste to escape. She gnashed her teeth in frustration, every fiber of her body yearning for her next kill: the fear in her victim?s eyes the moment before she took his life, the sensation of warm blood trickling along her skin, the sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing.

She soon became aware of small dots of light ahead. Campfires. Licking her lips in anticipation, she quickened her pace, already reaching for the daggers strapped to her waist.

Congar held his hand up and she paused mid-step, gazing at him with rapturous attention. His red beard flapped in the wind as he shifted his shadowy eyes over the group. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared back at him.

Suranda tensed on the balls of her feet, watching Congar expectantly, her eyes shining with fervor. When the signal was given, she sprang forward, desperate to reach the campfires. She was not alone.

Peredhil tossed and turned in his blankets, a chill draft combining with his own dark thoughts to prevent him from falling asleep. When he finally did succumb, it was a fitful sleep filled with vivid dreams.

He stood on the main road in Elessar. Trash had piled up along the sides of the cobblestone avenue. He glanced around, surprised at the filthiness and overwhelming silence. Where was everybody? A few figures appeared in the distance, walking slowly towards him. He squinted his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of their faces, but a blinding light prevented him from discerning who was there until each was just a few meters away. He watched as Piper, Wil, Eless, Mercy, Johnny, Sianna, Juli, Rena, Storm and others approached. What were they doing in Elessar? He smiled and greeted them, but they filed by without a word, ignoring him completely. He brought a hand up to his face. The hand was stained in blood.

***

Strong chains held his arms and legs in place. He struggled to get free, to no avail. His cries for aid echoed around the chamber, mocking him. He finally relented, sweat glistening on his forehead. Suddenly, a small songbird appeared, its yellow chest drawing in all of the light from the dim chamber.

A figure stood before him, but the face was shrouded. ?You?re safe now,? a woman?s voice said. The voice was achingly familiar, but he could not place it.

?Who are you?? he asked.

***

He stood in the main hall of the palace in Elessar, but everything about the room looked different ? the layout, the decorations, and the banners. The room was filled with people, all of them gazing expectantly at him. He peered back at them, unable to recognize a single face? wait, there was Elgin? and there was Miranda? and Bederind? but they all looked younger than he remembered them.

A melodious voice rang in his ears and he felt himself turning involuntarily towards it. He was unable to make sense of her words, so focused was he on the first one she uttered. ?Jith.? His father?s name. Which meant he was ?inside? his father. Which made this red-haired lady his mother. He watched, stunned, as his father leaned in to kiss her lightly on the forehead.

?Cerise, my love. How is the little one today?? His father ? and he ? planted a kiss on his mother?s stomach. ?Good morning, light of my life.? (?I?m here, Father!? Peredhil exclaimed. ?I can hear you!?)

?The baby is doing well, darling. Kicking up a storm this morning.? She laughed lightly, rubbing a hand gently over her belly. Peredhil gazed at her in awe. His mother was breathtakingly beautiful, and the way her face lit up when she smiled was a sight to behold. How cruel the Fate that had robbed him of his parents before he ever had the opportunity to know them!

He heard his father giving instructions to those gathered. His voice brimmed with confidence and assurance, and those who received his orders hastened to obey. His father strode through the crowd, offering quiet words to men and women who watched him with adulation.

Stepping out onto the balcony overlooking the palace courtyard, his father was greeted by a loud roar. It seemed that all of the city?s residents had gathered there. He spoke at length about the sacrifices Elessar had made and the difficulties that lay ahead.

***

Peredhil felt as if he was floating in the air, looking down at a massive battle. Armies maneuvered for position, mages cast lightning bolts and uprooted trees, and dragons clashed in the sky. He watched as a silver dragon spiraled upwards, its blond-haired rider aiming a drawn bow at a dark rider atop a red dragon. With a start, Peredhil realized he was watching his father. His father released the arrow and the other rider slid off of his saddle. All the while, the silver dragon continued to gain altitude. When it seemed they could go no higher, his father leaned against the dragon?s neck and they swooped into a nosedive, rocketing towards the ground below. Red, black, and green dragons moved to block their path. The silver dragon changed course, slipping between impossibly small openings as Peredhil?s father unleashed volley after volley at riders and dragons alike. Forks of lightning sprayed the sky around his father. Each flash accentuated the grim determination on his face. Peredhil looked to the source of the attacks. Fear gripped him as he spotted a black-robed figure standing away from the rest of the fighting, surrounded by rows of massive guards. Shagrin.

As Peredhil watched, a phalanx of dragons formed around his father, protecting him from the brutal assault. They encountered greater and greater resistance, and Peredhil winced at each casualty. But they also pressed closer and closer to Shagrin. Peredhil already knew how this ended. He tried to cry out to his father, to warn him of his impending death, but his words were blown harmlessly away by the wind. He closed his eyes, trying to freeze the moment. When he opened them, he saw two figures lying side-by-side. Shagrin?s minions closed in, ready to tear his father?s body apart. With a roar, the silver dragon turned to face them, unleashing a funnel of ice at the approaching hordes. As they regrouped for their next charge, the dragon lifted Peredhil?s father gently and soared off into the air. They seemed to be coming straight for him. As they passed, his father opened his eyes, fixing Peredhil with a steady gaze.

?Seek out Corne,? he said. ?Demand the amulet. Darkness comes.?

A bird?s call roused Peredhil from his sleep. He sat upright, his cheeks wet with tears. He was on the verge of settling back into his blankets when he heard a second call, louder than the first. The signal! Wiping his cheeks quickly with the back of his hand, he threw on his cloak, strapped his sword to his waist, and grabbed his bow and quiver. He ran back into the cold, more confused than ever.

Peredhil leaned back against the log, utterly exhausted. After burying the dead marauders at dawn, they had spent the entire day combing the valley and the mountain passes for survivors. They had met with some success, gathering together a little less than 200 people. He sighed wistfully, remembering the dozens of corpses they had discovered as well, victims of their injuries or the glacial conditions. If they had started the search the previous night, perhaps more might have lived.

Elgin and Wes watched him with worried expressions. Peredhil had Traveled half a dozen times during the day, checking on the different search groups and organizing a food caravan to meet them the following day on the other side of the mountains. Each episode had sapped his energy. He now lay still, exhausted and feverish.

Ana appeared with a cup of hot tea, which she pressed into Peredhil?s hands. She wiped away the sweat on his brow and then rested her hand against his forehead.

?You?re still burning up,? she clucked, gazing into his face anxiously with light blue eyes. ?Drink this tea. It has herbs that should bring your temperature down.?

As she hurried off, Wes called after her. ?And my tea?? She shot him a sharp look, drawing a grin from the bearded knight.

?That woman is crazy about you, Peredhil,? Wes remarked with a chuckle.

?Nonsense,? Peredhil retorted weakly. ?She leads my honor guard. She probably thinks I expect her to take care of me.?

Wes snorted and turned to Elgin for assistance. ?It?s clear she fancies you,? Elgin said softly, glancing in the direction that Ana departed.

?And what?s not to like about her?? Wes chimed in. ?She?s smart, she?s funny, she fights like a cornered wolf, and she looks tastier than my ma?s beef stew.?

Peredhil and Elgin exchanged looks, then both burst out laughing.

?Sothari il kumiar,? Peredhil wheezed weakly, momentarily slipping into Elvish. ?Wes, where do you come up with these sayings??

Wes looked a bit sheepish. ?What I meant by ?tastier? is??

?We understand your meaning,? Elgin interrupted, still chuckling.

?I?m just planting the seed in Peredhil?s mind,? Wes responded defensively, ?since he seems oblivious.?

Peredhil bowed his head slightly to Wes, who seemed to take it as a sign of gratitude. Wes turned to Elgin with a smug smile, but Elgin was still studying Peredhil thoughtfully. Peredhil glanced at Elgin and shrugged. He was not about to discuss his romantic interests with these two.

?Do either of you know a man named Corne?? he asked, changing the subject abruptly. Wes shook his head, but Peredhil noticed Elgin blink in surprise.

?Elgin?? Peredhil swiveled his head slowly to face his friend.

?How do you know that name?? Elgin asked. With halting speech and frequent sips of tea, Peredhil recounted his dream and the message his father had given him. When he finished, he looked at Elgin expectantly.

?Corne is no man,? Elgin explained. ?Corne was your father?s dragon.?

At the sound of a door opening, Congar fell to his knees immediately and pressed his forehead against the cold stone floor. The soft rustle of robes signaled the other?s approach, but Congar did not dare lift his face.

?Congar,? a sultry voice purred seductively. ?What news do you bring??

?We?ve increased our ranks to almost five hundred, Mistress,? he responded huskily. ?Most of the hamlets in Caleth have been destroyed or deserted.?

She stopped moving, and he tensed nervously.

?Is that all?? she asked softly.

?No, Mistress,? he grunted. ?We were ambushed more than a week ago near the border with Elessar. We took almost forty casualties during the incident.?

?You were careless,? she snapped, causing him to flinch. ?You are aware of the punishment for failure??

He murmured his assent, awaiting the inevitable verdict.

?Fortunately, I still have use for you,? the Mistress said, resuming her stroll. ?You used to belong to the Knights of the Crimson Guard in Doman, yes? You knew a man named Wesley??

He nodded eagerly, though his forehead never left the floor. ?Yes, Mistress.?

?Did you know that he was part of the group that ambushed you?? Her voice was teasing.

He bristled with anger. ?No, Mistress.?

Congar heard her approach with padded steps. She drew a razor-sharp fingernail along the back of his neck, drawing blood.

?You will join one of the groups crossing into Elessar,? the Mistress ordered. ?Make your way to the capital. Seek out your friend. Once you have established contact with him, you will receive further instructions.? She paused, running a hand lightly through his shaggy hair. ?Do not disappoint me.?

She turned away, indicating that the audience had ended. With a hasty bow, Congar fled for the exit.

The Mistress smiled. A web was being spun for her unsuspecting prey. Congar?s own success, while desirable, was not essential. There were countless others ready to take his place.

Two thoughts crossed Peredhil?s mind as he entered the chamber. The first was that, contrary to popular belief, not all dragons spent their days perched lazily on mounds of treasure. The second was that dragons ? like just about everyone else ? did not appreciate complete strangers barging in on their homes.

Both thoughts were instantaneous, because Peredhil was immediately diving to his left to avoid a cone of ice emanating from the rather furious silver dragon.

?I come in peace!? he exclaimed, ducking as a massive tail whistled just centimeters above his head. ?My name is Peredhil,? somersaulting to evade another cone of ice, ?King of Elessar,? shifting into a back flip over the second swing of the tail, ?son of Jith and Cerise Ironwolf!?

Peredhil cringed instinctively as an enormous claw ? each nail the size of a broadsword ? swung downwards to crush him. He blinked when the expected blow never materialized, glancing up at the now motionless claw hovering in front of his face.

?Why didn?t you say so earlier?? the silver dragon rumbled. Peredhil could have sworn that the dragon winked at him, but he was too paralyzed in shock and fear to be sure.

The dragon ? Corne ? settled back on his haunches, studying Peredhil with large, dark eyes. ?Yes, I see the likeness now. You?ll forgive my outburst? I?m not used to guests.?

Peredhil nodded quickly, adding his own apologies for arriving unannounced.

?You said you are now King? So that means that the fool Celior has been deposed.? Corne snorted with disgust, discharging a bit of ice from one of his nostrils. ?What a disaster he was for Elessar.? Bringing his gaze back down to Peredhil, he said, ?You must have a compelling reason to visit.?

Wary of projectiles ? intentional and otherwise ? Peredhil quickly filled Corne in on the purpose of his visit. He glossed over his ascension to the throne before detailing the outbreak of the Delirium, the message his father had delivered in his dream, and his search for the amulet.

The iron cords cut deeply into his wrists, tearing at his skin. He bit his lip, refusing to emit the slightest outcry of pain as the two hulking guards dragged him along, occasionally yanking the chain to send him stumbling forward. He glanced around groggily, trying to gather his bearings. It was nearly pitch-black, but he let his senses expand until he could see clearly. He appeared to be in some sort of underground tunnel, judging by the lack of light and the damp smell. He tried to Travel, but they had either shielded him or drugged him, because his attempts were futile. He was pulled along for hours, attempting to memorize the path the guards took as they weaved in and out of adjoining passages and warrens.

Finally, they reached a large chamber cut in stone, the fa?ade sheathed in silver and adorned with statues of three-headed beasts and strange runes. Peredhil lifted his head to study the runes, but one of the guards cuffed him sharply across the face, sending him to his knees. He tasted blood in his mouth. Again, he tried to lift his eyes, only to receive a booted kick to the jaw. Falling in and out of consciousness, he was vaguely aware of the guards kneeling beside him. A dark figure hovered over him.

?It?s over,? a silky feminine voice sneered. ?You?ve lost. And before you die, I?m going to show you your beloved Elessar.? He felt a searing pain in his head, then an image filled his mind ? uncontrollable fires wreaking havoc upon the buildings, panicked crowds fleeing ahead of ghastly creatures that stalked the streets, pandemonium everywhere. In the distance, he heard a sword being drawn, but he paid it little heed, staring in anguish as everything he?d struggle to build disappeared in the blink of an eye. As the blade raced towards his neck, his final thought was of?

Peredhil awoke, a single word erupting from his lips in a desperate scream. A loud knocking was followed by footsteps and the sound of a woman?s voice.

?It?s just a nightmare, Peredhil,? Ana said soothingly, although she exchanged a nervous glance with Alyssa. Peredhil sunk wordlessly back into the bed. After a few moments, the two women left.

Death and destruction. He had no doubt that he would not survive this crisis. The only question that mattered now was whether Elessar and Rhydin would.

Congar sat on his bed, trance-like, his eyes closed and a mystical smile plastered on his face.

The Mistress had given him orders and tonight was the night that he would carry them out. His smile grew as he contemplated the consequences. In less than an hour, one of the Dark One's greatest threats would be eliminated. In less than an hour, a king would be dead.

He dressed slowly. The final addition - a small dagger whose blade was covered with the fatal hiberberry cream - was placed in its sheath and strapped to his wrist with painstaking care. As he rolled his shirt back over the sheath, he felt a sense of elation wash over him. The Mistress had entrusted him with such a great task because she believed in him. He had spent weeks ingratiating himself to her enemies, gaining their confidence. He had witnessed the hope they clung to in spite of overwhelming odds. In an instant, he would shatter that hope. Surely the Mistress would set aside a generalship for him after he was successful.

Stepping in front of the mirror, it took several attempts for him to transform his dark look into something more cheerful. The final result was less than satisfactory, but none of the fools he was dealing with suspected anything, so it would serve its purpose. Running his fingers over the contours of the hidden blade, Congar pulled the door open and walked out.

The rain had turned into sleet at some point in the night, and it hammered away at Peredhil and the others as they made their way through another village. Heavy fog limited their visibility, but the stench of decaying flesh overwhelmed them and, as they reached the village green, they had to dismount and lead their horses on foot to avoid trampling the bloated, disfigured bodies. Someone retched behind him and others whispered prayers and blessings for the souls of the deceased. Peredhil felt desperation welling up within him and he sought the void, drawing all of his energy inwards until he was under control again.

This was his doing. When the Dark One had threatened Elessar?s eastern border with a massive army, he had sent troops to bolster their fortifications there. At the same time, the Delirium was spreading uncontrollably in neighboring kingdoms, which had failed to control it in time. As it extended into the northeastern tip of Elessar, Peredhil had decided to avoid the fate of his neighbors. Choosing to ensure the safety of many over the lives of a few, he had ordered soldiers to establish defensive positions along the ridge overlooking the Kiyakanu Valley, effectively ceding it to the possessed hordes.

The strategy had worked. The soldiers had successfully repelled the hordes? advance. The Delirium had been contained to that area and once the Lia?shin (Haunted)?the popular name given to those infected with the Delirium?were left without victims, they had gradually turned on each other. Yet he was confronting the consequences of his decision now, gazing upon the faces of the victims contorted with pain at the unimaginable suffering they had endured in the final moments of their lives. Many residents had fled the area ahead of the onslaught, but others?especially the sick and elderly?had not been so fortunate.

Peredhil had silently added up the number of corpses he had witnessed during the course of the day. One hundred fifty-four and counting. Casting his eyes up to the heavens, he said a prayer for their souls and for their forgiveness, wondering whether he deserved mercy for a decision he had made with such cold detachment.

He reached for the amulet, which was still warm to the touch. As the road leading out of the village forked, he considered the two options before selecting the path leading to the right. He felt, however, that he was no longer making the choices; rather, the amulet was guiding him.

Suranda did not hear the man?s voice, low but urgent, and she turned with a snarl when he tugged on her tunic.

?There are people ahead,? he said, a ghastly smile revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. ?About twenty-five. Ripe for the picking.?

She stood, her pulse quickening. ?Gather the others.?

The heat?s intensity continued to grow. Peredhil grimaced in pain, his eyes widening as the runes began to glow a brilliant red. His senses still amplified, he heard the soft padding of feet and ducked an instant before a dagger ripped through the air where his head had been a moment before. He had dropped his sword in surprise and now stood unarmed, hastily backing away as the woman slashed at him with vicious abandon. Meeting her eyes, he witnessed such blind hate that he nearly forgot to keep moving. As she advanced, he swung the amulet at her in an attempt to slow her down. He scored only a parting shot to her shoulder, but she howled in pain and back away, gazing fearfully at the disk.

?You?re the one?? Peredhil whispered as she backed away, moaning softly. In a fit of rage, she swung her daggers at him again, but he dodged them skillfully and kicked her in the abdomen. She dropped the knives and scrambled away on all fours, emitting an earsplitting shriek. In the next moment, all of the Lai?shin that remained standing stopped their personal battles and turned towards Peredhil, sprinting towards him in an effort to protect the Source.

?Surround Peredhil!? Ana cried, recognizing what was happening. ?Protect the King!?

Suranda felt fear run through her veins at the sight of the amulet. ?Get away, get away,? the inner voice urged desperately. As the half-elf tackled her from behind, she clawed at his face with her fingernails in a frantic attempt to escape. She cried out in pain as she felt the amulet against her flesh. Reaching for the man?s throat, she began to squeeze.

Peredhil used one hand to block the woman?s arms as she lashed out at his face. A deep gash appeared above his eye, blood seeping down into his eyebrow. He pushed the amulet against her forehead, grunting as she continued to flail away at him. And then it happened? the incantation appearing on the back of the amulet before his eyes as if someone were writing it at that very moment.

?Que?le doriathim sindari? he intoned, watching as the woman?s eyes flared with anguish. ?Marit?lai noitu lossari?? He gasped for air as she clutched his throat with both hands. Rather than fight her off, however, he used his free hand to apply pressure to the amulet, holding it in place against the woman?s skin. He heard Ana yelling something, but no one came to his aid, since they were doing all they could to hold back the remaining Lai?shin. ?Tenat?ar?kara?? Her grip tightened. ?Drokar palith?? His vision began to cloud. Just a few more words. ?Soray?ar? laku? zanet!?

As he uttered the final word, he felt her hands fall from his throat. Collapsing in a heap, he wheezed loudly until he regained his breath. He crawled over to grab the amulet, watching the woman warily. She remained still. Hands grabbed at him, and he dragged his head up to meet Alyssa?s anxious gaze. They both turned as the woman stirred, bringing her hands up to her face.

?Wait,? Peredhil said softly as Alyssa raised her sword.

?Where am I?? the woman asked. She looked over at them fearfully. ?What happened??

?You don?t remember?? Peredhil asked, vaguely recalling having heard somewhere that the lucky few who escaped the Delirium never had any recollection of it.

She shook her head with a soft whimper. Peredhil reached for her hand, patting it gently. ?You?re safe now.? All over the glade, the Lai?shin?former Lai?shin?were wandering around with dazed looks on their faces. Some wept softly, staring in disbelief at the blood on their hands and clothes.

?It?s over,? Peredhil muttered, gingerly rubbing his throat.

?I thought you didn?t know how to use the amulet!? Wes said, laughing in relief.

?I didn?t,? Peredhil responded, breaking into a smile. ?A songbird told me.?

The rock skipped across the pond, sending ripples outwards each time it struck the water. Peredhil watched it disappear in the middle of the pond, then searched the shore for another smooth stone.

An hour earlier, he had accepted an offer on his manor. The buyer had wished to remain anonymous, but the man who handled the transaction had let it slip that he worked for a powerful woman who had made a fortune in the import-export business. He had not mentioned the goods she handled, and Peredhil had discreetly refrained from asking.

Peredhil would be moving out of the manor on Friday, long enough to attend Johnny and Sianna's wedding and say a few goodbyes. Already, attendants had begun boxing up his belongings, although most of the furniture would remain for the new owner to dispose of as she wished.

Nostalgia inundated his senses at every turn... the sights, smells, and sounds he had become accustomed to all brought a rush of memories, most of them positive ones.

He knew that he could always return, but a sense of finality had settled over him when he relinquished the deed to his house. Strangely, however, he felt no regrets, only a vague sadness that he could not really put his finger on.

A breeze rustled through the trees, allowing Peredhil to catch a brief glimpse of his home. He held no particular attachment to the house and had used it sparingly to entertain guests. He'd always felt as if something was incomplete, as if a missing component prevented him from fully enjoying everything the manor had to offer. For an instant, he wondered if the same truth might be applied to his year and a half in Rhydin. He pushed the thought out of his mind before it could gather momentum. It is what it is. Or was, as the case may be. The truth of it was that Elessar needed him. Rhydin did not. Nor, he had finally realized, did he need Rhydin.

Finding another suitable stone, he let it fly, his green eyes tracing its path across the water. Watching the stone vanish soundlessly after several skips, he vowed to do the same. No announcements, no farewells. Like the stone sinking into the depths, his own departure would be a quiet one.

Peredhil poured the bucket of water over his head and scrubbed vigorously in an attempt to remove at least a few of the layers of dirt and grime that seemed to cover every inch of his body. The cool water provided a moment of delirious respite from the oppressive summer heat and humidity of the Elessari eastern lowlands, but he was sweating again before he even finished toweling off. It had been the hottest summer on record for centuries and Peredhil was sure it was somehow linked to the Dark One.

He looked up when Ana approached, her frown causing him to grimace before she even spoke a word. He could not remember the last time he'd heard a positive report from one of his commanders. For the past month, they had gradually given ground to the Dark One's superior numbers, using a mix of hit-and-run tactics and digging in at advantageous defensive positions to slow the enemy's inexorable advance towards the capital.

Ana hesitated, reluctant to share more bad news. From somewhere in the recesses of Peredhil's mind, he brought forth a happy thought -- walking with Juliane through the Southern Glen during his last visit to Rhydin. There had been nothing special about the stroll, but the mere thought of participating in such a quotidian activity with her brought forth a smile.

Mistakenly assuming that the smile was meant for her, Ana's mouth lifted in a quick upward curving of the lips.

"I think that's the first time I've seen you smile in weeks, Peredhil."

He grunted, his smile disappearing. "What news of our northern flank?"

Ana's gaze held his, her voice steady and emotionless despite the terrible tidings she shared.

"They fought valiantly, refusing to surrender despite insurmountable odds. But the enemy broke through several hours ago. A few dozen Presage are leading them at a frenetic pace. Even if we turn back now, they will reach the capital before we do."

Peredhil's shoulders slumped, the last bit of energy oozing out of him. They had done everything they could to save Elessar, but their efforts had been worthless. There was no way to escape the reality of his nightmares. Unless... he could not believe he hadn't seen this before!

"Have Wes lead our fastest riders back to the capital immediately. I want you to make contact with the Dark One. Tell him that I will hand myself and the amulet over if he agrees to pull back his forces."

Ana's protests were immediate and vociferous. "You cannot hand yourself over to the Dark One! He'll kill you outright! And his word means nothing... he will turn back on it the first chance he gets. You'll die for nothing and our best hope at salvation will be lost!"

Peredhil reached out to take her hand. "You may be right, but this will at least buy us enough time to ensure that the Elessari are evacuated before the city and its surrounding towns are razed to the ground." His tone softened and he squeezed her hand gently. "Besides, I don't plan on dying for nothing. Once Wes returns with the riders to Elessar, he is to depart immediately for Rhydin. The answers we've been seeking -- and our salvation -- are there."

Dropping his voice to a whisper, Peredhil explained his plan to Ana, whose countenance shifted from deep resentment to thoughtful consideration.

"But how do you know the Dark One won't kill you immediately?" Ana asked once he finished.

"He might," Peredhil replied, "but I don't see any other way."

Ten days ago...

Wes?s hands shook as he stared at the envelope. He could not decipher the strange black-and-red rune emblazoned across the fold, but the jagged lines and harsh edges seemed the very embodiment of evil. He had been waiting for this letter for almost two months?ever since Peredhil turned himself into the Dark One?yet it was with a sense of dread that he tore the envelope open and withdrew a single sheet of parchment.

As Wes skimmed the letter?s contents, he felt his stomach clench. It was what he had expected?hoped for, even?yet it opened up a Pandora?s Box of troubles, even if what the letter said were true. He read aloud the signature at the end of the letter: ?Eadwine.? The name seemed to echo around the chamber.

He glanced towards the hearth, which housed a roaring fire. A couple of months ago, Elessar was embroiled in its hottest summer on record. Now it felt like the middle of winter. The Dark One?s influence, he thought bitterly, moving towards the window and glancing down at the city?s crowded streets. Life here seemed to go on as normal, but the clouds of smoke on the eastern horizon served as a constant reminder of the Dark One?s advance. The Elessari had given way slowly but steadily over the past three months. He turned away angrily. Peredhil had turned himself into the Dark One in an effort to save Elessar. It had been a calculated decision based on many loose assumptions, none of which had turned out to be correct. Peredhil was probably dead and Elessar would fall in a matter of weeks.

Walking back over to his desk, Wes knelt down and felt around underneath until he located the switch. The floorboard shifted aside, producing a small safe. He inserted the combination and then pulled the door open, pulling out the amulet that Peredhil had entrusted him with. At first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a simple clay disk, but Wes knew it to be far more than that. It had ?cured? the Delirium, saving perhaps the entire world from a terrible disaster. Now it might save Elessar once again, although at what cost?

With a sigh, he put the amulet back in the safe, closed the door, and pressed the switch again. Throwing a cloak over his shoulders to stave off the cold, he grabbed the letter on his way out and hurried to convene the Council of Ministers.

Six days ago...

Icicles hung from the closed shops and snow covered the empty streets, perfectly layered and undisturbed except for five distinct pairs of footsteps leading down the main avenue towards the harbor. Frozen boats lay anchored in the shallow harbor, giving off the impression of a ghost town. And it may as well have been. Usually this was prime fishing season, but the early freeze had disrupted the coastal fisheries and severely dented the economic livelihoods of many of Vega?s residents. With no incentive to leave their homes, virtually everyone stayed indoors and away from the biting cold.

Wes squinted up at the half-moon, which seemed perched upon one of the towering peaks of the Nether Mountains. By his estimate, it was already past midnight, and yet there was still no sign of Eadwine or his cohorts. Frosty breath clouded his view, and he glanced away with nervous annoyance as Alyssa sidled up next to him. He was in no mood for chitchat. Slightly farther away, two other members of Peredhil?s honor guard?Marleni and Iela?stood with Byrne, one of Elessar?s best archers.

A soft whistle brought him back to attention. A half-dozen tall figures were moving down one of the side streets, their faces unrecognizable beneath black hoods.

Wes sensed Alyssa take a small step away from him, allowing herself space to draw her bow if necessary. Wes?s fingers inched towards the crossbow that hung loosely under his cloak. Slowly, he relaxed his hands and forced them to hang limply at his sides. He didn?t trust Eadwine one bit, but a false move here could end in their deaths and guarantee Elessar?s destruction.

Wes walked towards the dark figure in the front, naturally assuming him to be Eadwine. He was surprised when the individual to the far right stepped forward, but it did not compare to his shock when the man removed his hood. An audible gasp left his lips, matched by in unison by his companions.

The man?s lips curved upwards in a sneer. ?Quite a likeness, yes?? he said, amusement in his voice.

Neither Wes nor any of his companions was able to respond as they stared dumbfounded at Peredhil?or the very image of Peredhil, except for the man?s jet-black hair where Peredhil?s was blond.

Peredhil pitched forward onto the soft rug, gasping for breath. Ana was at his side an instant later, calling for a doctor at the top of her lungs. As couriers, Malonas, and others flocked to the doorway to catch a glimpse, the doctor pushed his way through and knelt beside the unconscious half-elf.

After a lengthy revision, he turned to address Ana. "He's in bad shape, but he'll survive." Withdrawing a syringe and filling it with a brown liquid, he inserted it into Peredhil's arm. "This will help ease the pain when he recovers."

Ana reached over to embrace the doctor. "Thank you," she whispered fiercely in his ear. Turning to the doorway, she motioned at the nearest Malona. "Fire the flares. Our King has returned."

Long before the leaves were transformed into a rainbow of colors or the nights got colder, Wes could sense the shift in seasons by the subtle change in the air. It seemed lighter, as if an invisible valve was slowly letting the humid summer air escape, to be replaced by fresh fall breezes.

The lanky lad stabbed at him awkwardly. Wes parried easily, sending the youth pitching forward onto his knees.

"Keep your balance!" Wes barked. "How many times do I have to say it!?"

The young man picked himself up gingerly, brushing dust off of his tunic. Wes groaned in disbelief, his sword flashing through the air until the blade rested against the poor fool's neck.

"Lad, your opponent isn't going to stop because you fell," Wes chided, pulling his blade away slowly. The youth smiled sheepishly and nodded.

Wes sighed and dismissed him with a wave. He had agreed to serve as an instructor in swordplay to some of the local lads, not because he needed the money, but because he could not bear the overwhelming boredom he'd felt ever since he had settled in Rhydin.

He was about to return home when the sound of a rapidly approaching horse had him turning to meet this unexpected visitor. His eyes fixated on the green banner of Elessar.

"... urgent missive from Lady Ana," the dismounting messenger said, handing him a folded parchment. Wes opened it and read quickly.

Exhaling deeply, he handed the open parchment back to the messenger.

"Does Peredhil know yet?"