At the Gates of the Worlds' Rim

By Shiva Winters

~* Book Three of the Salak'patan Series *~

At the age of 25 Monorth's world was one filled with fevered dreams of far off worlds and fantastical creatures, until one day his narrow world of quiet contemplation was shattered for all of time. More than 25 years have passed since that long ago day when his world was changed forever, by a love he never expected. And in the passage of those years he has been a warrior, a scholar, a leader, a follower, a poet, a philosopher, a wanderer, an explorer, a criminal, and an officer of the law. Each time that his world seemed to crystallize and become stable, something has come along to break that world apart, leaving him to pick up the pieces. Often has he felt that he was merely a piece on the gaming board of the Universe always leading him towards a destiny he did not want, and often has he felt hatred for that unknowable game.

Time has passed since he let his wandering ways lead him back to the hearth and home he left behind. And in that time that followed his world has become stable and peaceful once more, surrounded by the warmth and happiness of family. But with that peace comes the knowledge of all the things left unfinished, the knowledge of all that has been left unsaid and unseen. The knowledge of all those things that remained untouched that could end his peaceful world once for all, bringing death and destruction to all that he loved.

This time he decides that if his world is at risk of being shattered once more, than his is the hand that shall break it. And if he is spend a lonely eternity as destiny's plaything than he must step forward and take control of the game. Or else there is no way to know what might happen to those he cares about. With these thoughts in mind, his imagination begins to stir and the need for a new journey begins to call to him. Thoughts of the Rim and all the untouched worlds still waiting out there begin to whisper to him. A new path seems ready to open up before him leading towards all that yet remains unknown. Only this time the path he feels compelled to follow is not one he must travel alone. It has been said that the more one fights the forces of destiny, the stronger destiny becomes when it choose to fight back. And Monorth is about to discover how true these words truly are, as destiny strikes back..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shiva Winters
• Release date: Mar 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476364759

Shiva Winters

I know, I am supposed to come on here and give everyone some deep insight into who I am and the nature of my existence, but for all that I have been writing for better than half my life and have been publishing the results of those efforts for several years, I have not in the past nor will I likely in the future do such a thing. To be perfectly honest, I am simply and without question just not that interesting, personally or professionally, perhaps that is an assessment that is overly humble or unfair, but it's a truth that is nevertheless fundamental. In a day and in the age when seemingly everyone is all too eager to document their every personal detail and display their every passing thought, I personally can find no compelling reason to do the same. Call it a quirk, call it a choice, or call it my own personal form of crazy, but there is me living through the dull-drums of existence and there are my books which at their core are the stories I've told myself over the years, and one category is considerably more interesting to me than the other.When I first started writing, all those years ago, I didn't begin by putting words to a page for profit, or because I had delusions that one day I'd be celebrated for my efforts. I did it because it seemed like it might be a good way to pass the time, and in that moment, though I hardly understood it at that time, I found something when I wasn't looking for it. Since then, as time has passed, and I have honed my abilities, the underlying element of that moment of self-discovery hasn't truly changed, Entertainment. I don't write books because I can, I certainly don't write them for the sake of profit, though there is a glimmer of hope that one day there might be more of that. I write books because it's fun for me, it is my own strange kind of hobby and my own odd form of self-entertainment. And even if were to reach a point on some future day where the scales tip and I feel that this whole attempt to publish the results of my efforts is no longer viable, I will undoubtedly keep writing, if only for my own sake. I first published my books after a long and troubled decision making process, which ultimately weighed out marginally in the favor of the idea, that perhaps because I liked my books a great deal, that perhaps there were people in the world who would find an equal amount of joy in them. While at times there has been good reasons to doubt that belief there have been moments when that belief has proven true.I am not like most writers, that is a truth best acknowledged right up front, I don't write my books thinking to imitate another author with their pulse pounding action, high drama, or unending tension. I write the stories I find interesting, create the worlds I think are cool, to follow the characters I like, through the events that unfold in front of both them and myself as we work our way towards whatever may come. I don't plot out my novels, I don't outline the story, I don't pre-program the dialogue, and often enough even I am surprised by the end of the current chapter as things change on a whim. My books are an organic process that grow and shift, free from over-sight and restrictions and ultimately often lead to place not even I can predict. Whether those who read my books like what comes of my strange hobby is more often than not is my very last concern, and while I might feel compelled to apologize for that being the case, it doesn't or won't change the facts in the end. Each book and each series I write are a result of the page's progress through the succession of each line and paragraph, loyal only to the facts on the page and require only the input of myself as a conduit in allowing those words to progress through their natural courses. So the end results of those efforts often enough take a path not even I expected, but I for one won't and will never change that fact.My books are often strange and unexpected, I feel it is only right to acknowledge this, and there have been some in the past who have taken exception with that fact, angry that I did not meet their expectations. But I did not write my books for them, I wrote them for myself, selfish though that is, and I certainly did not publish my stories for them. Ultimately I publish my books for the small percentage of people who might read them and like them, and for the occasional bits of far flung joy I get from having people tell me how and why they enjoyed something I wrote. If you are one of those readers who starts a book with expectations and the belief that it is the writer's job to meet those expectations, please look elsewhere. But if you are one of those readers who reads simply for the joy of it, without expectations of what you might find, than I hope you will like what I have written.

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At the Gates of the Worlds' Rim

Book Three of the Salak'patan Series

By Shiva Winters

Copyright 2012 Shiva Winters

Smashwords Edition

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it please return to Smashwords to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the Author and the dedication of the Smashwords staff.

Chapter One: To Step over the Edge of the Horizon

It was a rocky rain soaked cliff-face set above a raging chaotic sea that was roaring against the massive stones below, cast in a heavy blue beneath a dark and stormy sky. It was the kind of scene that would make most people feel a touch more depressed and send some scampering for shelter, for Monorth it was a scene of long familiarity. It was the sight of an untouched world beyond the edges of what most would call civilization, and the setting was one that summoned a certain fondness for days that had faded from memory, just a little, with the passage of time. While such scenes had long ago been an unwanted part of his life as a wanderer, seeing this sort of thing again after living a sheltered life for over seven years, and standing in the face of the unchecked nature of a world without people in it brought back nothing but good memories. That was perhaps the strangest thing about the passage of time, that it could wash away so many bad memories that had seemed so very potent before and make one only remember those ones that shimmered with their own inner light. While the Fire cat companion huddled behind his neck might grumble about the falling rain despite being covered by the flap of a water poof pack and which was tucked beneath Monorth's cloak, it felt good to hear the rain without any concrete or steel to change the sound.

<> Nix grumbled to him, his telepathic voice was something that had become a part of his everyday life and had been for quite some time. As was often enough the case with his long time companion, there was a glimmer of truth in most everything that he might say, a unique ability of his kind to inject something specific into even the most vague generalities. This seemed to have been the case from the moments of their very first meeting nearly fourteen years earlier and it had stood up to the tests of time to remain true on that day. It seemed unlikely that this would ever fade with the passage of further time. So as unwelcome as the truth might be on certain days, Monorth would remain cursed with this fuzzy ball of truisms far into the future.

Perhaps, but even you have to admit it is nice to get away from the crush of people every once in a while. Monorth countered with the ease of a long friendship. As of matter of fact the crush of people were an incalculable distance away, separated by a long distance of empty planets and silent passages. It was a distance even the most brave of explorers might not dare to tread for another few thousands years. A thought that often appeared at times like these, when there was some intense distance between them and the places most people would call familiar, Monorth found himself asking how old the halls really were. Called the Salak'patan by most, those timeless spells extended back far past the oldest of histories towards a time before any of their races had existed, yet those spells were a part of their everyday modern lives. Connecting together far flung worlds together with the thousands of diverse species of intelligent peoples that called those planets home, and binding them together across the void of time and space. Created by a people who had long since lived out their people's history to the very end before disappearing into history, the Salak'patan and the halls that connected worlds together were a mystery as old as time itself. Anyways, it's not like there is going to be any peace and quiet waiting for us back across the Rim.

<> Nix growled back to him. Perhaps it was a universal truth that all small fuzzy creatures hated water, but Monorth wasn't one to judge. <> Monorth was almost tempted to tease his companion about slowing down in his old age, but decided he could save that for later.

If you laid that close to the fire, you'd singe that tail of yours. Monorth teased projected a telepathic image of a bald and singed Fire cat with a bow around his neck. Perhaps the smallest intelligent race of people yet discovered, or rediscovered as the case might be, the Fire cat pride seemed to be so much larger in proportion to make up for those sometimes exaggerated differences in size. Nix fired back with the mental image of Monorth bleeding from hundreds of facial wounds, which only made Monorth chuckle in return.

<> Nix whined in the next minute quick to abandon his plans for revenge. <> The excuses he could name were numerous and widely varied, and most of them would be untrue. In truth he had simply felt the need to get away from the unspoken rules of living around large numbers of people.

Just checking on a few things, I thought you said you were just going to nap all day. Monorth murmured back to him, choosing a benign sort of diversion from the truth, that his companion would see through easily.

<> Nix murmured back to him, choosing to play along or perhaps he too had started to feel the crush of people closing in once again. <>

Oh, my deepest apologies Grandpa, I'll take you home immediately. Monorth murmured, smiling as he stepped towards the Gate that formed more of instinct than through any real magical effort, allowing them to pass to another world and back across the Rim. Though it looked serene from the outside, long familiarity with their destination told him without sound or sign that the outward appearance was far from the reality of truth. The large overdone form that was the Manor house on Black Raven Prime had long since been the sanctuary that Monorth had fled to when the world turned against him or the pressures of friends and family had grown to be too much. But even as they regarded that serene exterior across the front lawns there was the sense that was already no longer true, and that their sanctuary was no more.

This place had been part of the inheritance that he had never wanted, a legacy of the tragedy of his birth and the death of his birth mother. Even still it had been the closest thing that he had to an 'official' home for the past decades, the one place where he could keep what he wanted and where he could hide what he need to remain out of sight. Two hundred years ago it had been built as a hunting lodge of grand proportions, located on the southern continent of Black Raven Prime, and placed in a vast expanse of formerly unoccupied forests which set it at a distance from any other signs of civilization. For much of the time Monorth had owned it had sat empty and unused except as storage facility for his ever expanding collection of artifacts and random objects. It and the lands around it had been awarded to Monorth after his mother's murderer had been stripped of his title and his freedom.

Nix, perhaps sensing much the same thing, slipped out from under his protected status within Monorth's travel pack, landed with a rumble of sound and darted off across the lawns towards the back of the massive house. His sleek fuzzy form of firey orange and white stripped patterns trotted off on four legs and with a tail that was held high. Amused by his abandonment at the hands of his long time companion, Monorth moved forward and towards the front entrance where he would likely find the trouble that was most likely waiting for him. Even as time slowly ticked forward without their consent, he knew that his own future was changing as his everyday and normal life was ready to be shaken from routine. While the decision hadn't officially been made yet, he knew without it being said that it would most likely happen the way he had predicted. Because while there was many choices to be only a few of them would truly make sense to those involved in the unfolding situations.

And who are you supposed to be? An elderly woman with a clip board and mean look, demanded of him as he stepped through the front doors of the house, and into the overly grandiose entrance chamber of the Manor. As was often the case when confronted with people who thought themselves unequaled in their ability to rule over all, his first instinct was to take this woman up on her implied battle of wills. But knowing he would get into far more trouble if he did, Monorth backed off from his first instinctive reply.

I own this house. Monorth gave her his best sarcastic smile, wondering if he would be challenged at every step beyond the one that had brought him into the interior. Just behind him and to either side he felt the shifting of unseen figures and decided that he might not be given a choice on whether he caused trouble or not.

We shall see about this. The guards that had been standing in the shadows behind him stepped forward obviously thinking that two to one put them at the advantage. Their steps were causal, the weapons remained sheathed, and they seemed quite confident that the two of them could stop an assassin polite enough to use the front door. It wasn't even really a hard decision for Monorth to see the value in showing them why those attitudes or theirs needed to be changed. When one thick hand dropped down to his shoulder, Monorth unleashed his general level of annoyance on them. The man who touched him had about three heartbeats to realize his first mistake when Monorth's arm surged up from under his cloak to grab his wrist in a vice like grip. He was then yanked off balance before his world was turned upside down as he was flipped head over heels, before being slammed flat into the marble floor in a ringing clash of metal armor against hard stone. Even as his fellow guardsman watched as his compatriot was taken down, his surprise overrode instinct and his sword remained sheathed for more than a heartbeat while Monorth's back was turned. By the time he reached for his weapon at long last, it was far too late as a sharp hiss struck the air and he found the point of a golden blade at his throat.

Assassin's do not use the front door, and you would be advised to never think you have the advantage if you try to sneak up on me again. Monorth stated to him as the crowd in the hallway froze in their places and looked on with wide eyes. Monorth could guess that the elderly woman now whimpering in his background might change her attitude at their next meeting.

You two are relieved. Captain Hargon of the Deken Imperial guard murmured as he arrived at a calm steady pace from somewhere else in the house. My deepest apologies, Emperor Demor, we only arrived this morning. It amused him to think that Captain would remember him well enough to use that title even though he had only held that throne for about 10 minutes. Though judging by the fact that he knew Monorth at all, the Captain must have been informed of whose home he and his men would be guarding. With a smile Monorth flipped his blade away from the terrified guards throat and turned casually away leaning the flat of the blade against his shoulder.

Yes, I noticed Captain Hargon, I will leave these two in your hands. Monorth replied as he stepped further into the room and returned the blade to its' usual position over his right shoulder with a decisive snap. If you would be so kind when you have the time, to please inform the ladies of the house that I have returned and will be in my downstairs office should they have need of me. The Captain gave him half a bow in return, a gesture that nevertheless did not let his sharp eyes wander away from Monorth and the slim potential for trouble.

Right away, sir. The Captain agreed as Monorth drew his damp cloak away and tossed it across the small distance where it caught on the coat rack fluttered down to hang there. Monorth smiled at the still stunned and silent old lady and nodded to the Captain in passing, before he walked off into the house and avoided any other trouble might loom up in front of him.

It had not been Monorth's idea to have this once quiet and forgotten building to be overrun by strangers, retainers, and servants from three empires, nor would he have let it become so if his time at that place hadn't been drawing near its' end. His Uncle Negeth, the Emperor of the Black Raven Empire, was perhaps slowing down a little with his slowly advancing age. He had in recent years grown increasingly fond of taking up any excuse he could find to throw an increasing number of annual parties for his ever expanding family. Family, was of course being used in the broadest and far reaching sense of the word. But as a whole the Family was quite unique as well as being numerous. Negeth's newest holiday and personal crusade was a summer festival and family reunion. While any number of places could be used, few could offer the kind of seclusion and privacy for an outdoor party as well as the forests around Monorth's manor home. Or so he had been told when he was involuntarily volunteered as one of the gathering's 'hosts'.

As Monorth moved through the long familiar halls of the house, Pheonix reappeared with a twitch of his tail having found another far more discrete means of entering the building while avoiding the trouble at the front door. They really didn't need to exchange words for Monorth to know that his companion was perhaps just as annoyed himself at the sight of so many strangers spread through the spaces that had once been almost exclusively their own. The preparations for the coming celebration were now in full swing as the once dusty and dank spaces were scrubbed from top to bottom and from one side to another. While the chances of foul weather were small, some few of the people who been caught up in his Uncle's overflowing spirit and grand plans had believed that it wasn't good for Monorth's already skewed reputation to have the Manor appear to be anything less than immaculate.

You disappear for two days and you find yourself having to draw your sword when you get home. Monorth rumbled down to a chuckling fire cat as they entered the kitchens and weaved their way through the army of people inside. The whole scale efforts to ready the large space for the unenviable task of cooking for the horde of people invited to the event to come fell to some of them, and the kitchens like so much else needed to be prepared for chaos to follow. Since Monorth and Nix went straight to the food replicator to quietly retrieved their own meal, they were left alone to pass on through the over-packed space, armed with food. Once they were both out of sight and descending towards the cellars, Monorth teleported the two of them much deeper into the stone and earth beneath their feet.

Perhaps the only reason why Monorth had kept the place for as long as he had, was the caves which the Manor had been built above. Connected to the cellars and hidden away behind secret doorways, these were perhaps the only places now available where people were not invading in the pursuit of the monumental task of cleaning up after years of being neglected. Therefore, the caves remained the one place that retained their original purpose of what had once been their sanctuary from the outside world. And they were at least safe for the time being from the whole scale invasion that was taking place above their heads. Long familiar with the twists, turns, tunnels, and chambers that spread out in every direction and extended for some distance, the tiny mage-light that Monorth summoned to chase away the darkness was hardly necessary. Both of them choose to ignore the bright reflections of gold and silver coins that were scattered here and there along their intended path, these were refugees and rejects from the even greater mass pf treasure that had once been contained in those passages. After a time another more distant light appeared along their course and after a bit more distance, a few turns, the brighter light resolved into something more firm.

Monorth!? Dumas called out sounding surprised as they reached the source of that light. Smiling he looked over his shoulder to find the paladin knee deep in an apparent pile of treasure gathered in small side chamber. Monorth's cousin and one of Negeth's many sons, he was quite surprised to find himself not alone and not miles from the nearest piece of civilization. Even as the paladin stood there holding up certain pieces to the mage-light that hovered of his left shoulder his face reflected his utter shock. Powerfully built and no stranger to the sword he carried, he had his father's good looks, an intense kindness, and a sense of duty sparkling in his blue eyes. The paladin's expression was quite amusing as he stood there frozen, as if he was trying to determine if his time alone in the dark had broken his mental faculties. His face and clothes were dirty, his white hair was a tangled mess, and clearly he had been down in the caves for quite a few days searching through the scattered remains of the treasure that had once been there, such as the pile he now stood in.

Straight down this corridor, two hundred meters. Monorth called back to him pointing in the proper direction. Touch the big crystal sphere, and feel free to take a shower in the bathroom. He and Nix shared in their bone deep amusement at the prank they had pulled as they walked away. Dumas yelled something in their wake and there was a clatter of metal as the older man hurried up to give chase through the darkness. Did you enjoy the challenge I gave you? Monorth asked calmly as the footsteps slowed in his wake.

You arranged this?! Dumas growled back at him, sounding extremely displeased about this bit of news.

Well I knew it has been about 9 years since you last got the chance to go treasure hunting. So.. Monorth gave him an evil smile and half a shrug over his shoulder.

All that stuff back there was fake... Dumas commented to him, sounding even more annoyed about that than anything else. Plated gold and silver coins, faked antiques, pot-metal weapons and armor..

Yes, I know. Monorth agreed without hesitation. I more or less call it the rogues' gallery, the rejected material I haven't had the time or energy to deal with other than shove it out of the way. They reached the promised chamber a moment later and the softly winking globe of crystal that was the rooms only contents. Following closely behind, Dumas stopped with them out of instinct, as Nix touched the globe. The Marza teleportation pad hidden beneath their feet by a layer of solid illusions activated and from one moment to the next they were standing inside another more distant chamber. Dumas stopped dead after two steps as the automated mage-lights flickered on and he found himself standing in an immense chamber filled with millions of tons of treasure. Carved out of the stone in more recent years it was a chamber separate from the tunnels and hidden away by spells. They were standing at the edges of vast mountains of uncounted wealth, gold and silver objects glowed in the light that was accentuated by many thousands of gemstones that sparkled like a star lit sky. This was a treasure of many tens of thousands of worlds, a gathering of immense wealth that formed a vast landscape of hills and mountains of precious objects that spanned a swath of incalculable history.

Have fun. Monorth stated as he walked away leaving the stunned Paladin in his wake. Monorth had showered, eaten, dressed, and settled into the rooms of the attached laboratory long before the Paladin finally re-emerged from what had undoubtedly been a frantic search. Now showered and dressed in newly replicated clothes, the older man's expression had lost his understandable anger at being fooled into a wild goose chase, and had become quite amused in the interim.

Wow!! Was his only statement as he dropped down into an empty chair nearby.

I haven't really had the time or strength of will to do more than sort out all the fakes and pile all the real stuff together. Monorth told him as he turned the reclining desk chair away from the large computer screen.

This coin is made of pure Trilinium, the rarest metal ever found. You could buy a planet with just one of these. Dumas stated holding up one of the many such coins that were more or less gathered together in the nearby chamber.

And there are a few million of them, I know. I could buy and sell the empires with just a handful of them and do you want to know how many of these coin are known to exist? Monorth asked as he teleported the coin across the room so he too could examine it under the laboratory lights, the paladin shook his head soundlessly too uncertain to try and speak out loud. None have ever been recorded in 100,000 and some odd years of Salak'patan history. Which means, I may be the only person alive to ever find them. With a flick of his thumb he sent the coin flipping back across the room towards the paladin, who caught it like it was a precious object to him. Most of that stuff out there will probably be moved to a place where there is more room to spread it out here soon. He stated turning his chair back around. But Seletra thinks it's time for you to step forward and become a leader for your people, that probably means you will have some free time here and there in the future. So, if you wanted to volunteer to come to the off-world sites I have already arranged and invest a little time in helping me to catalog all of it.. Dumas made a surprised noise back at him. I never really cared about any of it, it was more or less in the way of a greater treasure, so it got shoved down into these caves for more than a decade. I never really thought this place was all that secure, and now it seems that a new temple is going to be built at the edge of my lands. Providing me with an excuse to simply shove it somewhere else until that far off day when it might prove to be useful. I have a feeling that She thinks they might need someone to help bring the Paladins there.

She told you that? Dumas asked him sounding surprised and a bit confused. Though Dumas himself served the goddess of winds officially, Monorth did not and had not made any allegiances to any of the holy orders.

Nope, not a word, but this was her plan, so I guess that's what she would have wanted me to say to you. Monorth told him as he went back to working on the computer. And.. I figured if you were going to be spending some time in the area, it wouldn't hurt for you to know about the caves below your feet.

How did you... Dumas almost asked, too surprised to do more than that.

Sometimes I think she understands me better than anyone else. Monorth murmured softly in return shrugging his shoulders at the vagueness of such things. There was just something in the wind the last couple of days.. Anyways, High Priestess from the Selas Prime Temple called me for the first time a couple of days ago since our long ago first encounter to ask if I could help her to start a new Paladin retreat on Black Raven Prime.

Your right, there was just something with the wind recently... Dumas agreed with a smile of deep gratitude, as if Monorth was not the only one who picked up on such subtle things. There was a steady thoughtful silence for a little while after that, broken only by the soft sounds of Monorth's fingers moving across the flat controls of the keyboard.

Hello Uncle Dumas. Wren greeted as she swept into the room neither surprised or put off by his appearance, in the partial reflection of the screen Monorth watched her kiss the older man's cheek in passing. His daughter was now almost fourteen and she was developing quickly into a beautiful woman with nearly frightening potential. Though she had a mixed descent, her Anarian blood was muddled enough that she only shared the notorious temper of that race. Her three quarters Elven ancestry, insured that no one would be able to tell she was not fully of that species. With a lithe graceful body and a natural grace of the Elves, she looked like an angel and had a mischievous streak akin to a full blooded demon. Her dark black-purple hair had already begun to fade from that intense color, whether she aware of the changes or not. Fortunately enough she did not share his looks save for those molten silver eyes that were still mostly innocent when gazing at the world around her. Daddy.. Mom is mad. She warned him as she came over to kiss his cheek and lean on the back of his chair.

I kind of figured she would be.. Monorth agreed chuckling while Nix shared in his amusement silently.

Aunt Raal's guards tried to sneak up on him at the front door. Wren told her Uncle, Dumas flinched as he if could guess the rest of the story, which was just as likely to be the case. Ten his daughter's own Fire cat companion, chuckled at the expression as she followed as always at Wren's heels. Now a full grown adult and mother of her first litter of kittens, Ten had been at his daughter's side for more than seven years and had developed into someone who was unique even among a people as singularly unique as the Fire cats.

The Captain of the Guard will know who to put in charge now. He won't send any more fresh recruits. Monorth stated as if he was defending himself even though he had felt rather justified in his earlier actions. I just hope someone whispers a few words in your mother's ear before she decides to unleash total devastation down upon me.

He explained it to me. Sarath stated calmly as she too appeared from the nearby hallway. If you had hurt them, I might have been really angry. Monorth was just as glad that she had probably been too busy the last couple of days to really get angry about something she could not change. Monorth's half sister through their mother and older than him by a handful of years, she and Wren were sometimes so similar that it was frightening. The result of a long broken relationship more than 14 years earlier, Wren was the daughter they now shared. Though not a child that Sarath had given birth to, Wren's blood-mother had been his sister's beloved partner, before Felin had mentally fractured, become ill-equipped to continue the relationship and unsafe as a mother. Even though it might seem awkward to some, Wren seemed to have inherited his sister's great beauty and his own raw talents through his blood making it seem like Felin truly did not have much to do with the circumstances of Wren's birth.

I was careful. Monorth told her with a long suffering sigh for the women who dominated his existence.

Dumas, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you like. Sarath told him as she moved to give the paladin a warm hug. And you.. She turned on Wren with a glare and angry finger of accusation fixed upon the teenager. Stop warning him. She growled at her daughter and then gestured angrily at Monorth's back, he caught the motion in the reflection of the large screen and wisely choose to ignore it. His sister had a notoriously intense temper that ran completely against the grain for the image most people had for those of full Elven ancestry. Fiercely independent and with a will that was stronger than any metal, his sister's past was just as marred by tragedies large and small as his own, which might account for that firey personality.

But then I won't buy her things. Monorth teased as he rose from the computer desk and walked across the room. Sorry we left without much word, there were some things I needed to take care of and Nix came along for the peace and quiet. He added before his sister could turn her considerable temper to him about his recent disappearance. He walked to the wood manager's desk in the far corner and leaned over to sign his name on several documents. He finished the paperwork and folded the leather bound documents, and smiled to himself as he walked across the room towards Dumas. Do me a favor Dumas, take these papers to the High Priestess would you? I think they would mean more coming from your hand than mine.

What are those? Sarath asked curiously having the constant urge to put her nose into things that usual did not concern her, a trait that unfortunately Wren had begun to emulate.

Dumas will tell you when he is ready. Monorth told her sternly and just to annoy her.

So what did you do? Wren asked curiously right on cue.

You mind your own business. Monorth told his daughter.

Monorth, I think you are right. Sarath stated softly changing the subject since it was obvious that neither of them were going to get anywhere with him that evening. We should have that talk with her, Ten and I have been discussing it all morning. Somewhat pleased that Monorth's predictions were proving true, he didn't let those feelings show through lest he dig himself into a hole from which there was no escape.

What is it Mom? Wren asked suddenly becoming very worried, having inherited his instincts for trouble looming up on her personal horizon.

We want to talk about moving. Monorth told her with a small smile, seeing Wren's expression shift towards anger almost at once. Nothing has been decided yet, but we want to talk about it. He added before her objections could be made very vocal to either of them.

Excuse me... Dumas murmured having always had the good sense to avoid trouble when there was no reason for him to be involved, one of his finer traits in Monorth's opinion.

<> Nix announced as leapt out of the scene before he too might get caught in the trouble to come.

<> Ten growled playfully as the two of passed by each other with no small amount of affection as the female Fire cat moved deeper into the room, she jumped up to a low shelf where her presence could not be ignored by any who remained behind. <> Ten called to her companion, Wren went to her Fire cat and looked at that small fuzzy form knowing she would not get anything but the truth from her. <>

With so many people around, it will put a stress on you and you will lose control more easily. Monorth told her more than aware of the kind of destruction that could bring. Your gifts started to manifest when you were six years old, you were far too young to understand the dangers they represented. So Nix and the palace Fire cats, recruited me into bringing Ten to you so she could help you suppress your gifts and give you back the childhood they would have taken from you. Ten herself had been no more that a kitten herself on that memorable day, save for the fact that she had not been an ordinary kitten by any means.

Your father and I have discussed it and I think that what he has in mind will be the best for all of us. Sarath agreed adding her support and perhaps easing the slowly abating tension in Wren's small shoulders.

What would we do? Wren asked with a sudden intense curiosity that had perhaps been Ten's legacy for her companion.

That is something I will have to show you. Monorth told her to put off the interrogation that might soon follow. We have two days? Monorth asked his sister who was never one to allow him to make any decision unilaterally, unless of course she remained unaware of it.

Yes. Sarath agreed giving him a slim threatening smile that was an expression that really only brought back fond memories for him. You had better make this good. I couldn't even get Nix to tell me what you planned to show us.

Tell Raal, Alya, Negeth, and all the other busy bodies upstairs that the house is theirs, the redecorating budget is in their name and pack for travel like we used to do.. both of you. Monorth instructed and as he spoke he lifted his sword from the seat of his office chair and set it on top of his desk. We have two days, and dozens of places to look at should the first choice prove to be ill-suited to our needs. As he spoke he began to collect a fresh set of travel gear from around the room. The three of them dashed off responding to a sense of adventure and desperate curiosity.

Even though it had been changing slowly, Wren knew very little about her father's former life. By the time he had first ever truly met her, Wren had been nearly seven years old, and she had been an infant when Monorth had last seen her. Since the situation that had brought her into the world had been so complicated by no few small events and circumstances which would have only confused her, Wren had not learned the truth about her parental legacy and the truth about her blood-mother until just over a year earlier. Until that time he had been little more than her beloved and eccentric 'Uncle Monorth'. Even after she had learned the truth, she had never once doubted who her true mother was, proving Sarath's worst fears to be non-existent. But the shift from being 'Uncle' to 'Daddy' had not been unwelcome for his part. That change had been all but concurrent with the manor above his head seeing a resurgence in regular occupancy. They had escaped the Selas Imperial palace long ago, but the situation had lead them from the Imperial family's Cove sanctuary on the coast, to the Monorth's dusty manor house for Wren's sake. Ten's ability to contain her companion's gifts had been decreasing steadily over the last year as Wren grew into the kinds of gifts many children started to realize in the early teenage years. The relative quiet of their surroundings has eased the stress on Wren's emerging gifts and had bought them a little extra time.

Now that the situation with Wren's abilities was outgrowing any further delays they could place on them, it had been an easy decision for him to simply move ahead with the delayed plans he had been keeping in the background all that time. While Sarath knew virtually everything there was to know about his life, she had been given no insights into those 'top secret' plans he had kept in the far background. This was because he had wanted his beloved sister to have all the time he could give her, so she could come to terms with the changes that needed to be made for Wren's sake. Though the relationship his sister had with Felin had seemed as if it would last forever, he knew that the way it had ended had hurt her deeply. While there had never been any doubts in Sarath's mind, during those troubled days when the two of them had fought for custody of Wren against Felin's own parents. That decision had effectively ended his sister's career at the Center, and she had been forced somewhat reluctantly into the quiet of the last fourteen years. While they had once again reached a crossroads and the path ahead was by no means decided. He had high hopes that his plans would allow his sister to regain something of those goals she had pushed into the background when Wren had become her one and only priority.

I think it's time for a change. Monorth agreed quietly to himself as he entered the nearby bathroom. Even though he had never made more than a few tiny appearances in the public eye in the more recent years, his past deeds had long ago made him a fugitive from justice and a wanted man. Since he had a family that needed him and many things to be done, he had maintained his anonymity by taking on a persona that was not entirely his own. Taloni Demor, formerly Emperor Demor, a minor noble of the Black Raven Empire, was the public puppet he brought out of the shadows when he need to go somewhere or do something when there would be eyes watching him. In truth, Monorth's true identity and the official version of his historical origin had long since been erased from history, and had rendered him a ghost from his checkered past.

To prevent terrible events from taking place and to save the lives of the unknowing public, he had lived the last 14 years in the shadowed background of normal every day life. For seven of those years he had been out past the Rim as part of a self-imposed exile, confining himself to the life of a wandering soul and sometimes explorer of the far reaching distances the halls represented. The nearly seven years that had followed those days as a wanderer, he had been living in secret. With his infamous family being the only ones aware that he was still alive, and more than happy to hide him from those who might still be seeking him. Before those 14 years in hiding he had been Agent Captain Monorth, an undercover agent of the Center. And a servant of that sometimes skewed sort of justice that organization tried to impose on the governments and worlds of the explored halls. For ten years he had served