The Gathering

Chapter 4

The next morning they reached a small town. Chel lead them to a hut near the back of the village and took his son up to the front door while the others hung back. His knock was answered with a small frightened “Go away!”

Chel called out softly “open the door Reica! Do you not know my voice?”
“No. Who are you?”

“Who else would know you and Staira once masqueraded as brother and sister to steal the Crystal I bare from the sorcerer who once ruled this land-Seeca. He was not very pleased and turned you into a goat” Chel’s voice was full of humour “I had the steal his spell book and turn you back.”

There was a stunned pause and the voice came back with a cautious “Chelerick?”
“Chel, you know that.”

“CHEL!” came another excited voice and the door was flung open so a feminine figure could throw herself into the sorcerers’ arms, laughing and crying at the same time “when we did not hear from you all for five years we thought you were killed-we all did!”

“We all were not killed. Santon and I lived to rescue the boys before Seeca could give their souls to the evil one. We fought and I was badly injured. He sent us to another world before he died. They’re a new friend and his family found us and healed us. Now we are back to stop Youman from taking over his masters place and put someone else stronger and chosen by God on the throne instead.”

“Who?” she drew back to look him in the eyes “who shall rule Kel instead of him?”

“I do not know yet” he confessed “but I have the feeling God shall provide that for us. We have only to clear the way for him.”

The woman nodded solemnly, accepting his word and looked over his shoulder “greetings Santon, Silton.” When the two warriors nodded their hello’s she scanned the rest of the group “where is...” she suddenly remembered his words and her eyes widened all the way “they were not....”

Chelerick nodded solemnly.

“Oh God, Chel I am so sorry” she hugged him close to her, trying to show him how much she was sorry and when he finally drew back she called out over her shoulder “it is safe Tieca. They are who they say they are.”


A black haired man came to the door and saw them, cautiously stepping out to his wife’s side and hugging the man briefly, followed by Santon when he stepped up to his friend’s side. “I am sorry about before” the man apologised to them “but Youman has the entire town terrified.”

“And not just this town from what we have seen” Santon added. The couple nodded in agreement then asked curiously “if you mean to stop him why are you here?”

“Because I have no wish to expose my son to any further danger” Chel said as he looked down at his son, causing them to follow his eyes. “He has been through more already than a child should.”

“And you wish us to watch over him while you go to do this” Staira finished for him and he nodded solemnly. “Of course we shall do so,” Tieca said as she knelt in front of the boy “greetings Cheleron.”

The boy didn’t speak, didn’t say a word or even twitch.
Frowning Staira looked up at his father “what is the matter?”

The blonde boy at the back suddenly called something they couldn’t understand out and Chel nodded at him, looking back to look at the couple. “He has been with me since his mother was killed. I am afraid I overindulged him and he does not like the idea of me leaving him somewhere. He is sulking but if you are patient he shall soon communicate with you. My son knows a few spells himself and we have all taught him to defend himself so he can fight a little. But he is still a child and needs help. Protect him for me please.”

“We shall. You can trust us,” they said, the woman taking the child’s hand from his father and pulling him towards the door. The child protested along with some other inappropriate words-words a child should not know let along say.

“Cheleron, ANDREW, never say that again,” Chel said to his child in English. “Then don’t go” the boy said softly with a tinge of fear at the separation in his voice, a note of pleading. “I must, you know that,” the man said to his son.

“Then you can not stop me,” the boy said in a little spoilt voice. However the spoilt tone was ruined by the fearful shake in it and the two gold eyes that set on his father and shone with tears. “You know I can and you know I must do this without you. I can not afford to worry about your safety all the time or we shall never win this war and save the people your mother and I and uncle Santon and Silton care about.”

“But Rie and Paul can go and they are not as good a fighter as you and uncle Steven” the boy protested, bottom lip trembling.

“You know why they are coming my son. If you wish to help me you must stay here so I can fight without worrying about you. Use the window spell if you must to check on me but stay here” he glanced up at the couple “protect Tieca and Staira for me, they are one of my few true friends.”

The boy hesitated and the whispered “I will daddy.”

“Thank you my son.” He said back and pulled the boy close so he could hug him tightly for a few long minutes. Then Santon called out and he rose “remember I love you my son.”


“Me too” the boy said, eyes filling with tears which ran down his face as they separated and their hands reluctantly let go. With one last look at the couple he turned and joined the group as they started to leave. He waved and they were soon out of sight of the house.

When they were gone Staira looked down at the child and asked gently “come inside Cheleron. We have some nice apple pie you can have. Are you hungry?”

“No” the boy said without looking away from where his father and others had gone “I’m not hungry.”

“Sure you are” she smiled “come inside and have something to eat. We have plenty to share. Tieca and I are just about to have some lunch, why do you not join us?”

“No” the boy said again without moving and when she went to protest again Tieca stopped his wife. “Leave him for a few minutes” he told her as he guided her away into the house “he shall join us when he is ready.”

She bit back her protests and let him lead her inside. They set out three meals and sat down to eat. When they were half way through there was a noise and the boy came in without his cloak and hood, joining them at the table and starting to eat without a word.

However Staira and Tieca exchanged smiles when they realised they were on their first step to building a friendship with the young son of their friend.

* * * *

The blow on the back of his head caught him by surprise and Rickard collapsed without a sound. A sleep-spell was then weaved around the entire camp so they could slither inside and look around. There was a slight sound and they found Chel stirring awake, sensing danger and his crystal having protected him from the spell.

They crept to his side and while one clamped a hand over the sorcerers mouth another trapped him down and a third pushed his staff out of reach. The instant the scaly hand clamped over his mouth he was instantly awake, a defense spell coming immediately to mind.

Before he could start to weave it there was a vicious blow to his head and he blacked out, allowing them to tie him up and pull him to his feet, to carry him off. There was a sudden sound and Tieka started to stir as well, somehow immune to the spell and she sat up with a choked scream and grabbed her sword.


Instantly they jumped on her, trying to overpower her. Tieka screamed and thrashed, there was a flash of power and the others started to wake up. Realising they were discovered two ran off carrying her while the rest stayed to hold the group off.

Tieka heard her father call her name in panic, she started to cry back but one of the creatures hissed in her ear “speak and we shall run your friend through.” A knife was held above the unconscious sorcerer’s heart and she had no doubt they would be more than eager to follow through the threat.

So she was quiet, allowing them to push her roughly through the trees.

Two days later they reached castle Clina. The lizard men had been forced to keep the sorcerer unconscious the entire way for every time he stirred and started to come too they could sense the beginnings of a spell. After removing the sorcerer’s pouches and taking his staff away from him they were lead downstairs and thrown into an already crowded cell. Their weapons were thrown carelessly onto the floor a distance from then, enough to get their hopes up but far enough so they couldn’t find a way to them.

Two prisoners caught them as they were shoved inside, the one who had caught the man gently lowering him to the floor. Some prisoners gasped “an sorcerer! They caught a black robed sorcerer!” But one prisoner in particular saw Tieka and pushed his way to her, crying her name as he did. She spun at the voice and froze “Ral? Ral my brother?”

“Yes my twin” he laughed as he caught her up, hugging her tightly in relief and joy. It was a quirk of fate that they she had been put into the same cell as him, she had thought she would have to look for him yet here they were together.

Before he could question her as to how she had been captured there was a loud shocked gasp of recognition. Both looked across to find one man bent over the unconscious sorcerer. His black hood had fallen back, pillowing his head and for the first time Tieka got a clear full look of him. Although he was pale and thin and cheeks flushed she liked his face and looks.

“What is wrong, Pagia?” Ral asked the man who had gasped. He was too shocked to speak for a while then managed to stutter out “it is...he is...I mean he....”

“Come on man, spit it out” another said. The man finally managed to “It is he. He has returned.”

“What do you mean by HIM?” Another queried and he managed to answer “The black robed sorcerer with eyes of gold. The blessed one.” Rals' eyes widened nearly all the way in disbelief and recognition “You mean it truly is him?”
“Yes sir.”

“What is going on?” Tieka asked, completely confused by it all “You know him brother? Who is he?” Ral looked at his twin in surprise “You do not know who this is, sister?”

“He said his name was Chel Slighthand. Why? Who is he too you?”

“Tieka there is only one person alive who has eyes like that. He is the man who fought Seeca five years ago and destroyed him. The one who disappeared with his son, warrior protector and the warriors’ son? No being knows what happened to them, if they died and went to join the one true god or left to live in a new land.” He looked intently at his twin “where has he been my sister?”


Tieka frowned and spoke “he said he has been living with this young warrior and his family in another land in peace. It is far far away and until a few weeks ago he had no idea how to get home.

When he discovered the situation from Sawer he and his companions headed here to save us all, and stop Youman. He said he only wishes some of the spell books so he can find the spell Seeca used on them to send his friends Rickard and Teala back to their own land. It explains why they could not speak our language and their strange ways for their names” she quickly recapped what the warrior had told her.

She then went on, telling them all that had happened since her twin had been kidnapped and all that had been said. She then said softly “but as Chel says what are we gonna do about someone to replace Seeca if we prove god we are worthy of having our land and lives back? Who will rule since all the royal family are dead?”

“Ral” the man, Pagia said with a firm determined tone “Ral shall rule us. I vote we have our soon-to-be hero rule us.”

“What do you mean?” another asked him. “Think about it my fellow people” he turned to look at the others in the cell and the ones on either side of them “god obviously wishes it.”

“What do you mean?” another repeated the first man’s question.

“God made it so Youman would capture him and throw him in here. The saviour knew that his sister and father would come after him so they would find and guide the blessed one and his companions here. The saviour knew when they brought them here we would liberated. The one true god wants him to save us so he would want him to be our king as well.”

“Yes!” the first cried, eyes wide and started to cheer “Ral! King Ral!!”

Others took up the cry until soon the entire dungeons were filled with the prisoners cheering for their newly chosen King. Ral was touched and raised a hand for silence. After the cries had calmed he spoke “I thank you for your confidence in me being able to do God’s will and promise you after we have got our land back I shall do all in my power to return you land and help you rebuild your farms and homes. I shall listen to you like a King is suppose to and do all I can to heal our world from Seeca and then Youmans' destruction. You have my solemn vow to The Saviour himself.”

The group cheered again, excited about the thought of a peaceful life and after they calmed Ral looked back at his twin as she asked “how are you sure he would be able to stop Youman any easier than Seeca?”

“He is God’s chosen, my twin. He has power no one else could dream off.”


“Yes.” Pagia and the others started in surprise when the confirmation came from the man on the ground, from Chelerick’s lips. He sat up suddenly and winced in pain at his head, pulling the hood down low over his face again and continuing, “I shall do all in my power to stop this. I shall do all in my knowledge to prevent another holocaust such as Seeca was.”

“And we are thankful for it, sir.” Pagia said.

“Do not call me sir or lord for I am no prince or king. I am Chelerick and if you call me either of the other ones I shall turn you into slugs. Understand?” They answered yes and a few even giggled at the thought.
“Good now aid me in raising please.”

Pagia helped him to his feet and held him steady and then released him slowly, cautiously. He stood steady and reached up to the lump on the back of his head, wincing again as his hood fell back momentarily to show most his face. He looked around slowly, mumbling to himself “now where did they put my staff?”

“Over here sir...I mean Chelerick” and a young frightened-looking woman said, pointing to the pile of weapons where his pouches and staff lay on the very top. She had a child about five gripping her long skirts, frightened and dirty. “How are you going to reach them?”

“Like this my pretty one. Watch.” Holding his hand out and pointing at the staff he called something out in the language of magic. The crystal top lit up instantly and rose into the air, floating beside the pile. “And bring my pouches as well” he called out to it and the small leather pouches lit up as well and followed the staff into his waiting hands.

The other prisoners gasped as he caught them and leaned the staff against the wall while he attached the pouches to his belt under his robe. Then he took the staff again, the crystal glowing red as he touched it to the lump on his head, healing it and deleting the pain. Then before anyone else could speak the child stepped forward and began tugging at his robes. The sorcerer knelt in front of her, still gripping the staff and asked softly “yes young one?”

“Why are your eyes like that?”

“Well when I was very young I discovered my magic. With my wife we experimented with spells. One went bad and our eyes went this colour. And that was not all.”

“What else?” she asked innocently. “When our eyes were wrong like this so did our son. Because he was inside his mothers tummy when it happened.”

“You mean your baby and wife have them too?” the child asked curiously and he nodded “although I would not call my Cheleron a baby now. He is about your age.”

“Really?” her eyes widened slightly “where is he now?”
“Safe with some friends little one. With some friends.”

“Oh. Where is she? You wife?”


“She died in battle when the bad man killed her for trying to save our son.”

“Oh” The child said and looked ashamed for asking. “That is all right child. That was five years ago and I can think about the good if I want. It does not hurt that much anymore.”

“Do you see like us?”
“Yes but my sight is stronger than yours.”
“What do you mean?”

“I can see things clearer and further away than you can and I can see a little better than you could in the dark. Like I can see your eyes are blue.”

“Yes!” the child said in surprise. “And you have a cut on your cheek. Here, let me heal it” and he ran a gentle finger down the cut. As his finger moved down it folded together and healed. The child gasped and touched her unmarked cheek in shock, then ran to her mother who examined it in awe. The child suddenly thought of something and looked back to Chelerick. “Mommy is hurt, can you help her too?”

“Of course.” And hesitantly the mother came forward, showing him a wound on her arm and one in her side, which he healed for her. Slowly the others all come forward for him to heal their various wounds and injuries, even reaching through the bars so he could heal them through the bars that separated the cells. When all were healed Pagia looked at Ral and asked “What about you sir?”

“I told you before Pagia that my name is Ral Gentlesoul, not sir, at least not yet. As for my injury it is healing. It is not that bad.”

Tieka looked at him in concern “you are injured?” and pulled out of his protective arms to slowly look him over, scanning him for any sight of an injury. He glanced down self-consciously at his left leg, face twisting in pain and he tried to hide it from her.

The sorcerer and female warrior saw it was in a splint and bandaged from knee to ankle, that he was putting his weight on his right leg and favouring the other. “A couple of snake-men decided to have some fun with Pagia. I tried to stop them and they lost interest in him and started on me. They only stopped because I would not give them the satisfaction of showing my pain.”

“And I owe you my life as well as my service Lord Ral” Pagia said softly, eyes full of his gratitude.
“No you do not” Ral said to him “I only want your friendship, NOT you life or service. And stop calling me that!” He looked back at them and said almost apologetically “it does not hurt anymore. It is numb.”


“Come here Ral and let me look at that wound. Sit up here.” Ral limped to a raised stone bench at the back and sat down, putting his leg up next to him. The sorcerer knelt beside the bench and removed the splint and bandages, revelling the wound. “That IS bad!” Tieka exclaimed as she moved to look over the sorcerer’s shoulder “can you heal it?”

“Yes but it is a powerful spell and draws on my own strength, I will be weak and need to sleep a while afterwards.”
“But it is not as bad as father’s wound was and you healed him with no trouble.”

“It is worse. Disease has set in and is killing the leg. The nerves are already damaged, that is why he is not feeling any pain.” He looked up at Ral “as it heals it shall begin to hurt. I have an alternative to the pain though if you wish it.”

“What?”

“I shall put you into a trance as I weave the spell and heal it. The pain will be excruciating and we can not have the snake-men hearing your cries and coming to see what is going on.”

“I shall not....” he started, drawing himself up proudly but Chel shook his head “believe me you shall.”

The unwavering conviction in his voice unnerved Ral and so said, “so be it.” Pushing back his hood he looked deep, deep into the injured fighter’s eyes. “Relax your mind and look deep into my eyes. Nothing to fear, all is safe.” Ral found he couldn’t look away and was drawn deeper, his face going blank as he listened to the low soothing voice.

He remained blank faced and looked ahead at something they couldn’t see through the entire spell, the sorcerer reaching up to snap his fingers in front of the young man’s face. He blinked and suddenly seemed to come back to life, looking around in confusion. However when he saw that Chel’s eyes were clouding over in weakness and he was gripping the bench weakly with long thin fingers to keep himself on his knees he climbed off.

Motioning at two men they helped the weak man onto the bench and when the man motioned at his staff one man got it for him, laying it on the bench beside him. The sorcerer touched the wood and the jewel lit up again. Slowly the eyes closed and the face smoothed into lines of deep sleep.

Two hours later the cell was unlocked and three people were pushed inside. Tieka was shocked to recognise husband and wife friend of Chel’s Staira and Rieca and the sorcerer’s son.

The boy’s own sharp gold eyes saw his still sleeping father and ran too him, slowly reaching out to touch his father’s nose with one curious finger. He whispered in English, which they couldn’t understand over and over again “daddy?”

Chelerick’s eyes opened and he looked shocked at first that his son was there. Then he recovered and the two conversed for a minute or so and the sorcerer then lifted his son up onto the bench with him. The child curled into his chest and side with the sorcerer’s arm protectively around him and he went back to sleep. Soon the boy slept as well.


Three days later the cell door was unlocked and another figure was pushed in with them. It was a woman in long purple robes and hood of a second level sorcerer and as the door was slammed and locked behind her she looked around. She got the same comment as Chel had days before, a multiple cry of “A sorcerer!”


Ral was the one to first speak to her, pushing his way forward and saying “greetings Enchantress. I am Ral Gentlesoul and who, may I ask, are you?” The woman’s voice wasn’t much different to Chelerick’s, soft and soothing yet hers held an edge of pain and hate “I am called Gwineveire and Youman’s old master killed my family and tried to kill me. I wish to avenge their deaths.”

“In that case you are not alone my friend. This is Pagia Animalfriend, Staira and Rieca, Celak and over there is my twin Tieka with Chelerick and his son Cheleron.” To their surprise the woman gasped in shock and asked “Cheleron, Chelerick! Where!”

“With my twin in the back, why? Do you know them?”

The woman spoke four words as she reached up to push her hood back off her head “you could say that.” Underneath she had rosy pink skin and high cheeks. Full and sensual lips shone red with a small and delicate nose. Free of the hood waist long black silky hair fell down her back in waves.

But it was the eyes that made them gasp in shock and realisation. Gold they were, and cat like. Just like Chelericks’.

“Gwineveire!” came a gasp and the woman Staira moved towards her, gathering her in her arms and hugging her tightly as she recognised her as well “I thought you were dead, WE thought you were dead! So did Chel and Santon!”

“Staira” the woman hugged her back and the man, Rieca, hesitated before joining them. When they finally separated slightly the beautiful woman asked them softly “what happened? I was told they all died fighting Seeca.”

“They did not” Staira smiled and quickly told her what the child had told her about where they had been and what his father had told him had happened when he was too young to remember. When she was finished the human woman asked her “where is Heelena?”

“I do not know” the sorceresses said softly, tears of sadness and joy in her eyes “I blacked out when I was injured. When I came too I was in the home of another sorcerer called Teatoo. He nursed me back to health and healed me and when I was strong enough to understand he told me he had owed Chel for saving his life and he had helped me to repay that dept. When I was fully healed he taught me a few of his spells. I went back to the sight and found she was not there. No body or trace of where she could be. I went home and stayed there until two years ago when I found out what happened. I headed here to avenge the death of my family. Now I found out they are alive?”

Staira nodded and Tieca spoke softly “I remember Teatoo.”


“Please” The tears started to flow from her eyes “Staira let me see my family.” Solemnly she took the other woman’s hand and led her to the back, Tieka gasping loudly when she saw her. With wide eyes and a gentle hand the woman shook the man until he slowly stirred awake, moaning, Opening his eyes he still clutched the sleeping boy to him, in fact they saw he held him protectively closer and he awoke.

As his eyes opened so did his mouth, about to ask why they were disturbing him when his eyes set on her and widened in disbelief and confusion. The words froze in his mouth.

“Gwin” he finally managed to force out.
“Yes my heart” she smiled “it is I.”
“But it could not be. You died, I saw it.”

“No I did not but I almost did” and she recapped what she had just told the young human couple. “Oh my love” tears started in his eyes and they embraced, sobbing brokenly in joy and relief all without disturbing the still sleeping boy who nuzzled deeper into his fathers side as if sensing his emotions.

All those watching were touched by the reunion and thanked god that love could be reunited in this dark times. It was a ray of hope to all those starting to doubt.

When they finally managed to gather the courage to separate from each other slightly he spoke softly in a slightly choked voice “I too grieved you my love but Cheleron and I have made a new life in a new world were you would always be in our hearts. Our son still ask about you and he loves hearing the stories of our adventures together over and over again. When he awakes he shall be overjoyed you are alive as I am.” He suddenly thought of something that sobered his joy “Santon will be disappointed that Heelena did not live as well.”

“She still might” Gwineveire said softly “she might have been found and saved also or managed to crawl away and find help. There was no body when I went back and no trace of an animal dragging her away.”

The sorcerer nodded thoughtfully and moved slightly away from his son, picking him up and handing him to his mother “take our son. I must sleep and he is heavy and disturbs me ever time he moves.”

The woman took the boy, the child stirring in her arms and murmuring one word she didn’t understand before curling into her and dropping back to sleep. It was as if he sensed who now held him, or maybe because he was just a child he trusted who ever he felt goodness on.

“What did he just say my love?” she asked him curiously and the sorcerer answered, eight words before dropping back to an exhausted sleep “the language is English and he said mother.”

It was another few hours before they got another prisoner in their cell and to Tieka’s surprise she recognised the teenaged warrior called Rickard. She frowned and asked herself softly “how did they...?” Ral heard her and asked softly “who is he sister? Do you know him?”

“Yes my brother. That is Rickard Simpson, the boy who saved Chelerick and Santon and the others and took care of them, gave them a home and food and taught them to live in their land. He is the one who hates to be touched, even accidentally. I was just wondering how they got him in here, all these people....”


Ral got what she was saying and nodded as she left his side and approached the boy. As she got closer she called his name softly as not to startle him. He turned towards her at his name and she reached his side, trying not to touch him and motioning the people around them away as far as possible. She spoke his name again and motioned around her in question.

He obviously understood and made a few motions himself that she soon realised meant he was reacting what had happened and was shocked to discover he had given himself up, he had let himself be led into here and locked up. Did that mean his fear of touch or any sort of contact was merely an act?

Then she looked into his eyes and froze when she saw what was in the intense blue-green depths. She realised truly what it was costing him to be in here. He wasn’t afraid of the enclosed space of the cells but really the contact, the people around him. He was terrified and it was taking all his will just to stand there. He wanted to flee, run to the bars screaming.

And she truly realised just how deeply scared he was, that what the others had told her about his terror of any sort of physical contact was true, just how badly it affected him. She wanted to reach out and try and calm him, but when he stepped back from her and his eyes widened slightly she realised just how wrong that would be and that would only feed his fear. So instead she made a helpless gesture and asked softly “why?”

He calmed again when he realised she wouldn’t follow through with her thought and said softly, voice showing his strain “Chelerick?” She nodded, told the people around them to stay as far from the boy as possible and would try and explain later. She then led him to the man’s side.

Cheleron, who had been seated on his mothers lap since awaking and talking saw him and cried his name in joy. He wriggled off her lap and out of her arms and ran towards him. But even he knew to stop in front of the boy and give him the choice how to react.

The boy hesitated only seconds before bending down to pick him up, a brief wince he couldn’t hide and then held him tight and close and they realised that because the gold eyed child WAS a child it was somehow easier to him.

The child suddenly giggled and as Tieka and the others watched the Ossla flew out from under the teenager’s shirt, jabbering angrily at almost being crushed and the blonde boy said something to it that made it perch on Cheleron’s shoulder and stay there.

“My god!” Gwineveire rose and headed for them, eyes only for the little creature “how did you...? How could you...?”

The blonde boy frowned and the child translated. The boy said something and the child translated for them “he does not know how he called her but she saved him from the snake-men once and refuses to leave him. She helps him stop the fear he has at being touched.”

“Why does he fear touch?” Tieka took the chance to ask. “He won’t tell us but daddy said he told him a bad man hurt him once when he was a little older than me in a way we wouldn’t understand and since then he hates being touched. He can’t help it.”


“Why is he here Cheleron? Why would he let himself be caught when he knew the dungeons would be crowded and mean possible touch accidentally? Or did he not have any choice? Where are the others?”

“They‘re all outside the castle. Rick says that he let them catch him. He has a message to daddy from uncle Santon. He said he wanted to go because they wouldn’t believe they captured uncle Santon or Silton and he didn’t want to endanger Teala. He wanted to go instead.”

This surprised Tieka who thought Rickard would not acknowledge his feelings for the other girl. And here he was in a situation he obviously couldn’t handle mentally because he didn’t want to risk the girl being hurt in any way.

The boy seemed to anticipate her thought and said something and again the child translated “he said Teala couldn’t do this. She’s too sensitive. She wouldn’t be able to give him the message because her fear would make her freeze up. Besides, if they had of tortured her before bringing her here he would never have forgiven himself for not going in her place.”

“And he would not have minded being tortured instead?” Ral asked thinking how brave this young man his age was, how much of an inspiration he would be to others. But the boy’s answer through the child made him realise it was simpler than that. He would rather be tortured then here now.

“Rick says that that bad man who hurt him when he was young hurt him worse than anyone else could do” he then frowned at his friend in the eyes. The boy said something soothingly and the boy continued to frown but turned to look at his mother as she spoke out “who is he darling?”

Tieka took the opportunity to introduce them to each other and explain what she had been told had happened by her father and the man himself, plus what her own sense of the boy was and had been.

Gwineveire frowned, followed by the blonde boy after Cheleron translated. They stared at each other for long seconds then slowly the teenager reached out with one hand. When she continued to frown at him the child said, “take in hand in one of yours mom and shake it slightly. It is how he says hello, how they all say hello.”

Slowly she reached out and slipped her right into his, held it firmly and slowly they shook it. This time there was only a slight wince in his eyes and they soon let each other go.

Once this was done the child wriggled until the boy put him down and took his hand, leading him towards his father. Once there the sorcerer’s eyes suddenly popped open as if he had known they were there all along and was waiting for them. The blonde boy spoke for a while until the man nodded and answered him shortly.

The male sorcerer then brought the group to attention with “I have news. My companion here Rickard got himself caught on purpose to tell me we are all an hour away from rescue.” When the prisoners started to cheer he held a hand up quickly for silence. “Do not or you will alert our guards outside this door as to the plan.”

So for one nerve-racking hour of silence they awaited for the sounds of battle that would herald their rescue.

Finally there was a sudden explosion that rocked the castle and Chelerick and Rickard sprung into action. Using his staff laser spell Chelerick destroyed the locks on the doors and Rickard and Cheleron got everyone into two lines and leaving the cells quickly. One man went to the weapons and handed them out.


Soon a huge wave of humans, some armed and others bare handed forced their way to the dungeon door and out, trampling the snake-men guards in their wake and some of them stopping only long enough to grab up the fallen creatures weapons. They rounded a corner suddenly to find a battle up ahead of them, other humans with Santon, Silton and Sassel in the thick of it. They saw Teala in a dark corner, firing her arrows with deadly persuasion whenever a snake-man separated momentarily.

The humans all cried out in battle-lust and ran into the thick, Tieka crying out their fathers name in joy at seeing him. The man glanced over and saw them and his voice relieved he called back “Tieka, Ral, are you both unharmed?”

“Yes father” Ral called back “we are uninjured thanks to Chel.”
“Then join us.”

Ral nodded and they raised their weapons, surging forward to join their father and fight by his side. “Gwin?” Santon asked in shock when he found her fighting by his side and she smiled gently at him, even managing to briefly stroke his cheek before turning to a snake-man in front of her “Greetings Santon. I am pleased to see you as well.”

“Can you not stop them!” Rickard cried out to Chelerick, his eyes full of helplessness at the closeness of those around him and rage trying to use it to hide behind so he wouldn’t freak out.

“I can, I can cease the snake-men at the source of their power, where they are controlled” and before anyone could speak the man had raised his staff over his head and cried one word before disappearing in a flash of light.

“What did he mean by that?” Tieka asked curiously “destroy them by the source of power and control?” Gwineveire suddenly gasped in horror and fear, eyes wide “oh dear god no!”

“What is it?” Ral asked.

“Do you not see? Youman controls them by his mind. He has gone to fight him alone!” The group gasped in horror and Gwineveire raised her hands, about to follow her love when Tieka and Ral cried “we shall come as well!”

The woman nodded and a few minutes later they appeared outside the huge double doors of the library. They heard the sounds of crashing from within and smoke drifted out from under, along with the smell of burnt material and flesh.

After discovering the spell-locked doors Gwineveire transported them to the other side. The room was huge with one side taken up by huge bookshelves full of old spell-books, both the shelves and books glowing. Gwineveire recognised Chelerick’s protection spell, but why was he protecting the books and not himself?


The walls were burnt black, as with most the furniture, the lingering smell of smoke and burnt clothes in the room. The smell of burnt flesh almost overpowered them. They saw Chelerick in a corner and leaning against the wall, left shoulder and arm black and burnt. His face was creased in pain and concentration, gripping his staff with his bloody right hand with the crystal glowing. His gold cat-eyes glowed with power.

Youman was across the room from him, the left side of his face a mass of blood and right arm hanging limply by his side. A snarl of anger twisted his bloody lips and before Gwineveire could stop her Tieka had called out the good sorcerer’s name.

The sorcerer was interrupted in the middle of a spell and thrown backwards with the drawback. He weakly managed to struggle to his feet again and look to them “leave here! I must do this alone!”

“No!” Tieka cried out “we have come to aid you!”
“You can not” he gasped in pain “if you refuse to leave then I must protect you.”

Before they could speak Chelerick had pointed his staff at them and mumbled a few words and they found themselves in one of his bubble-fields. Not knowing the spell Gwineveire could not cancel it so they could get out but neither would any of Youman’s spells touch them. They could only watch the battle in horror and fear, fear for the sorcerer the twins had befriended.

Chelerick kept his eyes on Youman as he forced himself to his feet with his staff. Youman spoke first as he copied him with his black staff, black crystal glowing with dark light unlike Chelerick’s that glowed as pure as the sky on a sunny day.

“You will die now.” The evil sorcerer growled. “Is that so?” Chelerick said softly as he hid his pain from his enemy “If I die, you shall join me.”

The evil other laughed and raised his staff high over his head, crying out something arcane. The crystal seemed to swell as a black dragon pushed it’s way out, breathing fire from it’s nostrils angrily and it’s cold and hellish eyes set on the other sorcerer. They narrowed threateningly. It headed for him with one clawed hand reaching out for the man menacingly, but immediately it drew it back again as a searing fireball scorched the protective scales on it’s palm.

Taking advantage of the few seconds of the creatures pain Chelerick summoned his own dragon, one of the more powerful and purer white mountain dragons, protectors of all good life.

With a blinding flash the two dragons met in mid-air above the sorcerers’, each cancelling the other spell out. If it wasn’t for the depths of their hoods both sorcerer’s would have been blinded by the flash, however the twins and Gwineveire-who’s hood was back off her head-all were temporarily.

When their sight cleared they were just in time to see Chelerick surround Youman in a bubble-field, the good sorcerer collapsing to the spot as he cancelled their bubble with a cry of agony. Gwineveire ran to her husbands and loves side, her heart in her throat and eyes blurring with tears. After five years of separation and thinking he was dead and being reunited this happened.

She shook him desperately, hopping to god. Finally he moaned and came around, looking up into his wife’s face “Gwineveire my love.”

“Yes my heart” she laughed in relief.


He glanced at Youman inside the bubble who had collapsed unconscious. “That spell will not hold him long, five days or until my strength gives out.” With his bloody right hand he reached into his robes and withdrew a small leather-bound book and handed it to her. On the front she read ‘The Sword Of Virtue’ in gold letters and the hurt sorcerer spoke weakly. “I need you to get this. It is the only thing that can truly kill Youman and cleanse this place of the evil it attracts once and for all.”

“But I can not leave you my heart!”
“You must.”
“I can not! You will die if I leave you alone!”

“You MUST!” Chelerick cried as he fought to rise, gasping with as much desperation as the agony would allow. “All right just lay still!” Gwineveire said, trying to push him back down again.

“Good” Chelerick sighed weakly and closed his eyes for a few seconds, opening them again quickly when she rose to go. “Wait my love.” She crouched beside him again “what?”

“Take this. Go to Turtl and find a warrior called Dagger Quickfingers. Give it to her and you will be aided.” He held a dagger out to her with the hilt carved into the semblance of a reared unicorn. “And make sure you take the others with you and especially Rickard.”

Gwineveire took it from him and frowned “Why my love? Why do you need them to come with me? I can teleport there and back quicker alone. I cannot take them all with me by spell. I am not that powerful.”

“I know my love but believe me you shall need them and Rickard for this. Trust my word that you shall need him.”

Gwineveire sighed and nodded, kissing him long and gently as she ignored the taste of his blood on his lips and mouth. “Goodbye for now my love for we SHALL return to you, I shall return to you.”

Chelerick nodded weakly and she went over to the twins. As they faded out of the room the last thing she heard was Chelerick whisper “I have and shall always love you my dear heart. Take my soul with you as you go from me” and she barely managed to choke back a sob.


Hours later they were on a boat headed for the island of Turtl. The book had said to find the warrior Dagger they had to find a ‘place of peace and cheer’ and Santon had suggested a park or garden. Gwineveire had agreed.

It hadn’t taken them long to discover that the warrior man knew this woman they were seeking. “Yes I know her” he had answered them “Chelerick and I saved her life just after we first startled travelling our world. She travelled with us for a few years, learning how to fight from me and how to protect innocents. But she left us because it was too difficult to be with us with how she felt about him.”

“What do you mean?” Rickard asked in English after Cheleron translated for them.


“She had deep feelings for Chel and at first travelled with us to be with and close to him. But Chel has loved Gwineveire since he was a child so ignored her advances and gently tried to let her down. Finally she left us because she got the hint and couldn’t travel with us because she didn’t want to be so close to him with no chance.”

“Then why do we need her now?” Rickard asked him. “When she left she took a sword Chelerick had created years ago. She hid it for him and only she knows how to get through all those spells and traps safely to get it. When she finds out that Chel needs it and is badly hurt she’ll gladly aid us.”

“But what will she wish in return?” Gwineveire asked, frightened this woman would wish to have her husband as payment.

“Don’t worry Gwin” Santon said “she is an honourable woman and would never dream of taking Chel from you. That is why she left us in the first place, as not to be tempted to try and seduce him or say or do anything against your love.”

Still a little worried but taking Santon’s word for it she didn’t speak, deep in her own thoughts and wishing she stayed behind to help and protect the man she loved. Yet she knew she was doing better and doing god’s will by being out here.

By early next morning they had landed on the island of Turtl. Heading to the nearest garden they found a young woman about Gwineveire’s age doing various impressive stunts and tricks with six long sharp daggers in front of a group or seated children.

She wore knee-high brown leather boots moulded to her calves and leather armour protecting her chest, breasts and stomach. Below the waist she wore a very short leather skirt. Her shirt covered all but her arms and shoulders and part of her thighs.

Her long silver hair was plaited down her back and reached her hips, green eyes sparkling in amusement. She had a leather belt around her waist with a silver buckle, a unicorn engraved into it. The woman reached her finale and caught all six daggers in her mouth and hands, not even grazing herself a little even though there was no denying how razor sharp they were.

The children cheered and the woman sheathed them in a flash in a belt pouch. She saw the group, frowned and spoke to the children in a gentle and melodic voice “That is all for now little ones. Come back next full moon.”

Some children protested but soon all were headed away from them and back to their homes nearby. When all were gone the woman headed for them but with eyes only for Santon. When she was close enough she looked over each in the group and spoke to them, voice filled with concern and confusion “Santon what is it? Why are you here? Where is Chel?” Wordlessly the warrior handed over the dagger Chel had given Gwin.

Taking it the woman’s eyes widened even further and she asked in horror “what has happened Santon? I told Chel only to return this if he was in extreme danger and needed my aid. He would only send you with this if.........” fear and disbelief flickered in her eyes.

“He’s alive” Santon said to her visible relief “but badly hurt.” She mustered control and said firmly “tell me what has happened.”

“First I need to introduce you to my companions. This is my son Silton. The others are Teala and Rickard with Twins Ral and Tieka and their father Sassel. And the child is Chel’s son Cheleron and the woman....”

“You are she, are you not” The woman faced Gwineveire, face calm and emotionless “the woman he has loved since he was a child.”


“Gwineveire is yes” Santon said softly “don’t....”

“Fear not Santon” she smiled at him slightly, amused “I am not about to throw a jealous fit for I have resolved my feelings for Chelerick years ago. I may not have found another I feel so strongly about yet, but I know now I did not love Chelerick enough.” She smiled at Gwineveire and said softly “I am just glad he found his true love so early in life and has had her for so long. He has not lost her.”

“Not always” Gwineveire said, tears in her eyes “we have only just been reunited.” The woman frowned again “what do you mean?”

“Sit down Dagger” Santon said softly “this is a long and complicated story.”

The woman did so and listened intently as he told her what had happened to them since she left and why they were there. After an hour or so she stood slowly and said “of course I shall lead you to the sword. Chel obvious needs it to cleanse the place and stop Youman. There is only one problem.” They frowned “what’s that?”

“Where it is there is a powerful spell on it. Only a boy of virtue and pure morals can take it from it’s resting place and handle it.”
“What do you mean?”

“It was Chelerick’s own spell. He said it was to make sure no one of evil will or who is unacceptable could steal the sword but I had the feeling he had another reason for it, as if he made it for one person and one person only.”

“Perhaps he saw the true owner in a vision of the future” Sassel said softly “and wanted to make sure only he could have it. Such an action suggests whoever it is will be a being God has chosen for a great and noble purpose.”

“Yes but who?” Silton said softly in Kelan. Over the last few days he seemed to be remembering more and more of his native language. Or maybe it was the closeness of so many sorcerers allowing him to somehow tap into the power to translate.

No one knew but Santon frowned mentally when he saw Rickard flinch and quickly try to hide it from the corner of his eye. Had Chelerick told him something they didn’t know about this situation? The sorcerer and mutant boy HAD been getting pretty close over the past few years. “There is only one way to find out” Gwineveire said firmly, looking at Dagger “lead us there. We shall see when we get there who it is meant for.” The woman nodded and led them off.

Hours later Santon dropped back to the mutant boy’s side, noticing how he was clutching his sword with white fingers and seemed close to panicking, eyes full of dark emotions he couldn’t read. “What’s the matter Richard?” he asked softly in English.

“Nothing” the boy said sharply, bluntly but Santon persisted “Do you know something about what’s to happen? Has Chel told you about the future events here? Tell us.”


“No” the boy said bluntly “I can not. I can not tell you.”
“Why not? Did Chel make you promise? What’s going to happen?”

“Leave me alone!” he exclaimed, dropping back to the back of the group and looking away to the forests on either side of the path and blatantly ignoring him and any questions he asked. When Santon moved to the front again Silton frowned and asked in a low voice “what is it father?”

“Richard knows something. Whether it’s what is going to happen or another I have no idea but he refuses to tell me or even talk to me. I’m use to him being secretive, but not like this. I think he knows what’s going to happen and is clamming up out of fear.”

“Why?” Silton asked his father curiously. “I don’t know son” he shook his head solemnly “and if this keeps up we’ll never know.”

“Maybe I should speak to him” the boy frowned at his friend. “No” Santon shook his head “the way he’s acting even Cathrine couldn’t get anything out of him. I think we shall either wait until he tells us himself or whatever it is happens.”

“But that may be too late!” Silton protested to him “whatever it is.”

“Trust Richard’s judgment” Santon told his son soothingly “you must believe in him and whatever it is if it is dangerous he shall warn us.” Silton nodded solemnly and moved up to join Tieka and Teala, joining in the conversation and acting as a translator for both.

Gwineveire and Dagger lead in front, talking softly between themselves-probably about Chelerick and their experiences with him. Ral and Sassel came next with father and son deep in conversation also. Cheleron was beside them and listening closely, but when he looked back and saw what was happening with Rickard he turned and walked back to his side.

At first the blonde boy ignored his presence and Cheleron spoke not a single word, but then he looked down at the child and Santon was shocked to find tears in his eyes. Chel had told him Rick had only ever cried twice in his past, what could upset him so much to do so again now? Surely it wasn’t Chel’s condition?

The child looked at him calmly and having grown up around the teenager he knew just how and what do to help the boy and prevent his instinctive fear of being touched, while they were still learning. He simply slipped his small hand into the boys, showing him he was there for him and would listen when he was ready to talk.

Finally the boy began to speak, softly so no one else could hear him and the child only watched his face closely the entire time and listened, his eyes flickering in alarm but staying calm to sooth the teenager’s fear. When he was finished the boy whipped the tears from his eyes and glanced up at the group, ignoring Santon’s attention and spoke again. Cheleron just squeezed his hand soothingly and allowed him to picked him up and cuddle him fearfully.

And as the child latched to his side Rickard didn’t even wince this time. This worried Santon greatly. What could possibly be so bad that not only would Rickard weep and be so upset that he would forget his fear of touch in need to comfort himself and someone else? He understood why the boy would not only confine in the child and be willing to hold his hand so easily, but not every thing else. What was going on?