The Stones of Torain

By Phillipa Wade

The power of true love lingers softening the backdrop of persistent threats to the System of Light from the enemy, the Kashada of the Dark territory. With the Stones of Torain emerging as a gift from their Ancestors, the people have a wealth of true knowledge and history at their fingertips. After eons, the long-forgotten essence and magnitude of their power of light are revealed Exciting, beautiful, and a great read. Unrequited love, the discovery of their incredible history, deep dark fears of threats, and the entrance of new allies; all of these will keep you interested in this story and how it unravels, ready for the third in the trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phillipa Wade
• Release date: Feb 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781649456755

Phillipa Wade

Phillipa Wade is the author of the Science fiction novel The Linking moons as the first in the System of Light trilogy.The second book in the trilogy is now available - The Stones of Torain. Available as an eBook here.A big fan of Science fiction and poetry she has launched the final novel in the trilogy - Stronghold of Light, incorporating both genres.Born in Pretoria, South Africa she spent much of her life in the coastal city of Durban.She currently resides in Los Angeles, California.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

On Torain, the major governing planet of the ‘System of Light,’ SOL, the romance between lovely Mica and Aarne had developed to the point of their wedding being discussed. The love between Aarne, son of Anza and Voran, a Council Elder, and Mica, daughter of Deena and Paxso, the head of all Space exploration, is woven into the events of the first novel of the series.

An undercurrent of trouble brews on Torain as an Elder of the Council, Scorcsan, takes action to deal with his obsession and incessant fear about the lack of conservation of the planet’s energy. Scorcsan has an aberrated perception of the need to ‘conserve.’ He decides to order lovely Mica to go on a mission to the ancient caverns in the ‘forbidden territory’ to retrieve the historical records to prove he is right. Mica, a trained Reader¹, believing completely that Scorcsan is representing the Council in his instructions to her, agrees under oath to use her skill as a Reader in complete secrecy for the mission.

Mica has an incredible experience in the caverns and discovers three books and artifacts that will help the Council understand their history on Torain greatly. On completing the first part of the mission, she decides to bring an artifact home with her as she sincerely believes the Council may need it to achieve their objectives.

To her utter dismay, her actions of entering the forbidden territory and removing the artifact are considered treasonous to the people of the planet and she is tried and found guilty of Treason. Because of her oath, Mica is unable to disclose Scorcsan’s role in the mission and the consequences are devastating. It is only Mica’s note, left for Voran as an Elder, in which she explains the truth of what occurred, and her message to Aarne, that gives Voran the understanding of what can be done. Both of these and an item she found in the caves are the saving graces that leave hope for a positive ending.

In the opening story of this saga about SOL there is but small reference to the stone of Torain, when Mica exits the caverns and is about to rest for the night after the artifact was stolen from her. Unbeknown to Mica a faint reflection of this incident remained in the stone nearby.

The Stones of Torain play a major role in this sequel, which follows on with the lives of the characters in ‘The Linking Moons.’

Simultaneous occurrences in the various locations of the SOL and other regions, both light and dark, create an intricate pattern of action for the reader to follow.

___________________

¹ Reader - a female able to read both diagrams and text and retain the information for later transfer to a recording screen.

CHAPTER 1

The day had begun

Imbued with hope and Sun

To pass the long and lonely time

The Moons would rise

and gaze with eyes

Not yet seen by one

Aarne paced quietly around the sleep-room. He pushed his hair back, holding it bunched in his hand behind his head, and stopped at the window to look at the sky. He could barely make out the first Moon emerging in the hazy pink horizon beyond the coastline of Mica's home, the town of Fortin. The fabric at the windows moved softly welcoming the gentle breeze that sneaked in the partly closed pane and the first subdued rays of morning light.

Finally, he released the hold on his hair and it fell back onto his shoulders, lank and lifeless, a reflection of his mood. Questions flooded his mind as he searched the depth of the vacuous blue space out there. Only the vague shape of a lonely dark cloud to his far right interrupted the view. Drama appeared to be lurking as shadows flitted unexpectedly across the room.

The two Moons were casting their glow on the other side of their planet Torain in the Arkasian sector of the Milky Way galaxy. Patient as always, they continued in a dreamlike atmosphere of silence to await their daylight arrival in the east, hoping for a more welcome return on this new day. It was the phase in which they accompanied the Sun for a few days, showing their white light like specters in the sky. They too, were waiting.

He continued pacing, his mind burdened with anticipation and numb hope. Now and then, he would stop and stand over the bed to look at her. Despite its light fabric, his warm blue cloak lent heavily on his shoulders, the solidity of his concern reflected in its weight. He pulled it off impatiently and threw it haphazardly onto a nearby chair, not willing to tolerate the extra load any longer. The shadows, threatened by the daylight, withdrew and slid back into their hiding place, echoing the terror that flooded through him in occasional waves.

A suppressed fear covered the land, observed only by those in the know about the break that had occurred in the Light barrier. A pending threat hung over them and all Incan-keepers were on high alert to observe any changes. The System of Light was exposed and vulnerable because of the breach in the Light Barrier, an occurrence not experienced before, to his knowledge. He pushed any concern aside and allowed himself to be absorbed by his concern for the life of his beloved Mica.

Mica was asleep. She had not woken from the requisite induced coma to make her journey to some foreign planet almost five days ago. Her chest moved rhythmically, showing her even breathing and presence. She lay dressed in cozy sleep clothes of pale pink, the long sleeves and the cream coverlet keeping her warm. Voran had convinced him that she would return to normal by the fourth day, but his impatience devoured him. The words he wanted to say were moving through his mind at a rapid rate, and he kept rehearsing, perfecting, then rehearsing again. There was so much to say to her. So much to hear from her; to listen to her voice.

Being plunged into the depths of despair and terror when he thought he had lost her had almost been too much to bear. Unshakeable guilt had consumed him initially. He knew it was illogical, but he still felt responsible for not being there to help and protect her. His overwhelming disbelief that her departure had even happened had left him completely numb.

Finally, after a long look to assure himself she was still breathing, he turned and left the room to take a hot shower; it looked safe and quiet enough to leave her. He stripped off his much-worn clothing and stepped into the surge of hot water. It flowed over his tense body, slowly relaxing his muscles like springs unwound and released from their constricted state. The shower was refreshing, stimulating his senses enough to improve his mood. Feeling revived, he dried himself thoroughly, and after putting on a clean white tunic and warm robe he tied his wet hair back the way she liked it.

She was lying in the same position when he returned. There was no change. Aarne walked across to the window again, this time to look out through the pane of winter glass at the nearby cliffs. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach was rhythmic, and its continuity always reassured him somehow. He turned to face her and flowed a light beam around her body, circling it as if to wrap it in light and hope. It was the first time in a while he had been able to do that. It soothed his conscience; made him feel stronger and more optimistic about her recovery.

He had stayed at Mica's home for the past days with her parents Paxso and Deena, hardly leaving her side. Keeping them company had been vital as they waited for their daughter, his love, to recover. The slow process of the nutrients trickling into her body through the tube in her wrist, were helping to restore her strength.

Aarne thought back to the moment when they had all stood on the cliff and his Father, Voran, had pointed the Rod towards an exact position in the sky as directed by Paxso, commanding the craft bearing Mica to return. Each one in the group deliberately shunning any doubt of the power of this newly found instrument in the hands of Voran and including their own light beams to help guide the capsule home. After this incredible moment and the hugging and tears that followed, they had all gone back into the house where the two women, Deena and his Mother Anza, had industriously prepared a meal. They had eaten in silence, their full attention still being on the purpose of drawing the capsule back home and holding any doubts at bay. Paxso had calculated the possible duration of the return journey and stated it would be approximately fourteen hours before they could go to the landing dock and wait.

Time had dragged brutally. They had only napped intermittently; then, unable to sleep, they had walked along the cliffside in the night air. The Moons had lent their support – their beams wrapping themselves around the family members whose hearts were aching with both love and fear for their beautiful Mica. At times Aarne had walked with his arm around Deena, with Paxso on the other side of her; Voran and Anza close behind, their thoughts blended. Mostly he walked alone, submerged in fear, but periodically resurfacing with hope restored when he observed the moonlight reflecting on the ocean; a sight Mica loved.

Misty wraiths had trailed them, winding themselves around nearby rocks and their bodies at times, all adding sympathetic presence to their midnight watch. It was dawn when the family finally released themselves from the cliffs. After a light breakfast, they had moved onto the instant Stepp travel system, their objective being the specific dock from which the craft bearing the capsule and Mica had departed. No one mentioned Scorcsan, the cause of this tragic development; the evil-minded Elder who had plotted to harm their System of Light and had betrayed Mica's trust. The man had collapsed and now lay, probably dying, in a nearby medical facility. But no one cared, and rightly so. What he had done was unbelievable.

Aarne recalled the scene distinctly.

The landing site was emerging from the effects of a short dark thunderstorm when they'd arrived. The air was still rather electric and the docks saturated with the hard rain that had fallen. Scattered bursts of lightning rippled in the western sky where the storm now indulged the land with its gift of rain. The five people took up their positions leaning against a railing, their hope tangible. Soon a message fluttered through to Paxso's hand-screen device advising him of an approaching missile, unidentified at this time. Paxso assured the messenger that all was well, instructing him to bring a watercraft to fetch both himself and Voran and be prepared with the necessary equipment to extract the expected 'missile' from the water.

The five people rejoiced inwardly at the news, simply looking at each other with unquestionable hope in their eyes and tight smiles.

Five pairs of eyes were unblinking as they watched the capsule appear through the remaining clouds, heading directly towards the water landing site. Hands clutched other's hands, tension beyond description pervaded the scene. It was happening.

The capsule's automatic landing equipment kicked in, and four fins appeared on its sides, enabling it to cruise gently down to the water. The splash was almost inaudible, eliciting a simultaneous gasp of the audience followed by big sighs of relief. Looks of excitement passed from one to the other as the watercraft headed over with gear to lift the capsule onto its welcoming deck. Fear was momentarily overcome but returned almost instantly.

Aarne had stayed with the two women as ordered by Paxso. No one knew what to expect, as, to their knowledge, they had never experienced such a return.

On arriving at the dockside, a crane lifted the capsule into a holding cradle where it lay waiting for attention. It was at this point that Tolsar and Rulan had arrived. Voran had notified Tolsar, the Head of the Council of Torain, and Rulan, the legal mind, of what was taking place, and, knowing what was at stake for them all, they had come to witness this incredible event.

Only sometime later, Voran had informed them of an explosive reaction in the Light Barrier reported by the Incan-keepers on Torain and Skaldor. It had occurred less than three hours before the landing of Mica’s capsule. Apparently, the Light Barrier in a specific sector in the north-east had collapsed and was only slowly reconstituting itself causing a threat to persist. It was a new phenomenon. He confirmed that an investigation was being made as to the cause.

Unknown to those on Torain, two lone Kashada space patrol ships were circling the outer perimeter of the SOL, searching for any remaining turbulence in the calmness of space. Viro, the pilot had been ordered to return to the place where the original breakdown of the SOL barrier had been observed a few days back and continue to watch for any change. His mind was whirling as he felt he saw an unusual motion in the space ahead. Like a slow moving air current that had particles of dust in its center, it was detectable on their screens but not to the naked eye. Something unusual was occurring. He was wary, knowing about all the failures experienced by previous crews. Garkullen, the leader of the Kashash would not afford any errors after the traumatic closure of this mysterious barrier right in front of his space force. Viro hung back, waiting, circling and watching, determined to be certain before making any approach toward the renowned barrier of the SOL.

Still in Mica’s sleep-room, Aarne snapped back into the present moment and turned to look at Mica again, still sleeping restfully, her blonde hair spread out on the pillow and her hands at her side. The consequences of the breach of the Light Barrier were still unknown and he battled to focus on the matter as he stood there watching her. The numbness that had pervaded his mind precluded him from being able to extend his concern to the issue of the breach. He had been reliving the experience of her return, and now he had to remind himself she was here, right here in the room with him. First, he moved close to her to confirm she was breathing. Then, reassuring himself she was indeed there in her bed and breathing well, he allowed his mind to return to the dockside events.

The opening of the capsule was carried out by the men who had put it together. They worked with extreme concentration, first using an intensely bright light beam, thinner than a pencil and incredibly powerful, to penetrate and cut the metal seal and access the timing device previously set. The men had then carefully unlocked each catch and introduced fresh air into it extremely slowly so as not to shock the girl's deeply unconscious system. The gradual release of the gas inside the capsule matched the air that they filtered in gradually to take its place. He was permitted to come closer at that point and remembered how anxious he had felt as finally they were able to undo the straps which had held her body secure and lift her out of the confined space onto the waiting medical stretcher bed.

Aarne recalled how impressed he was at Voran's organization as a clinician immediately appeared to administer the only known antidote for the gas and the toxic sleeping draft she had been given. Then, after giving her a brief examination and assessing her vital signs, he advised that her body did indeed respond to the treatment.

The tenderness Aarne had felt when he had placed a warm cover over her cool body had been new to him. His love for Mica overflowed, and tears ran freely down his cheeks. His only thoughts being, 'She is safe. My darling Mica is safe. She is home, she is home. Thank Tor, she is home.' He could not restrain his emotion, and the tears continued for some time. He knew his emotion was both relief and a slight relaxation of the underlying guilt he felt.

A pang of guilt that had only welled up since she had vanished from his life. He had never told her of his behavior in his late teens, which he had considered loathsome in his later years, when he had a holiday in a drunken stupor with his old friend Tosh. He had learned about women then and never told Mica of this experience; afraid he would lose her respect. The images had loomed large and threatening as if they held their power over his future. His tears had expressed both remorse and relief. Forcefully discarding these thoughts, he had focused on the fact that Mica was back and was safe.

A bird shrilled a loud call outside the window and he returned his attention to the room; he pulled a chair up to her bedside and sat back to relax and watch her. The sunlight now shining through the wide window had chased away the shadows and mists of the early morning, and the cool room warmed to its touch. The season had changed and the nights chilled even the warmest of homes, creating the opportunity for indoor fires and cozy rugs. She looked comfortable and warm, easing his anxious frame of mind a little.

Shortly afterward, he heard Deena calling him softly, Aarne, come downstairs a while and join us for breakfast. Reluctantly he stood, kissed Mica gently on the forehead, and leaving a light beam around her, grabbed his warm cloak, wrapped it around his shoulders, and went down the stairs.

The sight gladdened him. Caffe was brewing, and a good breakfast spread out on the table. Paxso in his green sweater and Deena with her orange winter wrap sitting at the table added to the rather colorful scene. He could not help but feel happier.

Good to see you looking a little more cheerful today, young man, Paxso smiled warmly. The day will pass by slowly if you watch and wait. So try to keep yourself a little busy, and the pressure will ease for both of you. I have an enjoyable book for you if you like?

Aarne smiled at him while helping himself to the hot caffe and a portion of food. That will probably help to pass the time. Getting absorbed in another story other than my own is worth a try, thanks. I am trying not to be too concerned about the breach we have experienced as I know that my fellow Incankeepers are keeping a close watch. This new phenomenon is an issue and I would like you to keep me informed Paxso, if you can.

Paxso nodded, suppressing his own thoughts and the fact that the situation was not yet fully under control.

I will do that but in the meantime let’s focus on what we are doing here and now.

Deena avoided the subject they were all mentally fixated on and chatted about the weather and the arrival of the low temperature. She laughed and pointed to the firewood stacked up, saying, You know we can always use more! Aarne got the hint and agreed he would help with stocking it up within the next day or so.

The three of them resumed conversation on general topics, and he felt far more 'normal' than he had for days.

Upstairs, Mica lay sleeping – her dreams changing every hour. From a complete vacuum of no thought and only trickles of fear running through her, she now dreamed of moonlight on the ocean, swells moving gently, and the shoreline filled with little waves lapping rhythmically on the sand. Shells decorated the beach forming patterns that moved and appeared to dance slowly. There was no music, but she felt entranced by the motion. It was peaceful, and she was not afraid anymore. A need to reach out and touch something nagged at her, and her hands twitched with the motion. No one was there to witness this change, but it didn’t matter. She was becoming increasingly aware.

Aarne, realizing he had been away from Mica for a reasonably long time, got up from the table. After thanking Deena for the wonderful meal, he ran up the stairs with renewed energy, his dark thoughts absorbed into the shadows. As he ran up the stairs, he stopped at the window. The tight feeling in his gut told him all was not well but he forced his attention back to the sight below. Looking out, he saw a figure sitting on a bench near the back of the garden. The person suddenly stood up and walked towards the Lightway. Aarne leaned out to get a better look and saw it was Pex. ‘What is he doing here? That really is strange!’

He brushed the question aside as he entered Mica’s room. She was not awake, so he lay on the couch near her and relaxed, his thoughts undisturbed by his earlier wave of guilt.

Paxso looked at his lovely wife and, trying not to express any anxiety, spoke, I cannot tell him about the seriousness of the situation with the breach at this time, it would be too much! You know I have to leave for Sentro urgently for a short while don’t you? He smiled at Deena, who nodded and hugged him. He continued that is one brave young man! he said looking towards where Aarne had gone.

She nodded in response. Yes, that he is, and I trust his bravery will soon be rewarded.

It was the fourth day.

CHAPTER 2

Unforgiving

Demanding and cruel

Nature suppressed

By dominant rule

The planet Orb's city of Bastar, in the Dark territory of the galaxy, resounded with the wrath of Garkullen, leader of the Kashada. His body twisted in a manner matching his knotted facial scars, he faced Shea, his Second in Command, in the War-room. Karlis and Sinchad, their personal assistants, stood nearby, their faces drawn with tense expressions, terrified of what may happen next. The recent major attack launched on Torain had been a total failure, and Garkullen continued to express his fury about the stupidity of the squad of pilots and his embarrassment at their useless endeavor.

Shea was the only one with a pale complexion, his natural tone, but now his ears had taken on a reddish glow exposing his anger. His fitted dark grey clothing showed his muscles ripple as he tensed himself, waiting for the onslaught. If Garkullen could read Shea's mind, he would realize that this was a sign of great resentment and a deep brewing dislike of him, no longer seen as any kind of friend. The skin tone of the other three, all of Orbanian descent, reflected a darker shade of green this day.

Garkullen was screaming with frenzied rage. That was our moment. That was the moment we have waited for, and it was LOST, completely lost through stupidity, lizard-shite equipment, and shuckzarr incapability of the crew who are supposed to be trained to act with some degree of darsted intelligence. I had planned that attack for months with as many ships as we could muster. Finally, we put everything into it, and we had the moment, the shuckzarr gap we needed. The Light Barrier was down and we had the chance in that moment; we had the shuckzarr chance to get through. He slammed the table in front of him violently with his fist, a slight flicker of pain crossing his twisted face.

Shea had never seen him quite like this. He looked as if he could blow his brains out with the fury he couldn’t attempt to withhold.

No one spoke up. Karlis and Sinchad stood frozen, their finely scaled skin taut and their hands clenched. Sinchad was not quite as alarmed as Karlis, the new younger man in the group, but he was still extremely anxious. They made no effort to subdue the crazed individual who stormed around the room. Any object lying loose on a table met its doom. He threw his own treasured tele-sensor onto the floor where it smashed into pieces, part of it rolling away from him as if in total disgust.

There is no punishment that is penalty enough for what happened up there! he pointed upwards towards the sky. Were there demons up there? Were there some kind of monsters up there threatening us to stop what we were doing? NO! NO! There were not just some little sparkly things that have been deemed strong enough to stop us, our craft, our weapons, our needs. We will never know why the barrier was down. It was not something that could be predicted, but it sure did happen. This is just unforgivable, totally shuckzarr unforgivable. He paused to take a breath.

Barriers of light, light, that is all. Surely light can be countered by darkness. We brought plenty of that to them; darkness is what we specialize in. Black Lizard-shite darkness! Garkullen sat down suddenly in the only chair in the room, holding his head in his hands, his metal cloak landing in an awkward position behind him. He ripped it off and let it drop onto the floor, making an odd slithering sound.

I have to change the shuckzarr training. You have to change the tactics we are using. This failure demands change, radical change, and it will not be kind! It will not be nice for any darsted person! he snarled, gritting his broken teeth as he forced out the angry words. We do not have nearly enough pilots to man the new craft. What on Orb is happening with the recruiting and training of these lizard-breath idiots who will be unconditionally dispensable if needs be? Shuckzarr, you have to get to it. Garkullen was shaking his fist in the air by this time. You must understand that this will be a new way, a new way of indoctrinating our crews to move through any barrier, any shuckzarr barrier at all, even if many have to melt! He stopped for a moment then turned his back on them. You must deal with the training of the production crews too. A closer look at what they are doing and exactly why they take so much time needs to be evaluated. Some lizard-breath individual needs to follow up on that.

He paused and frowned. Get me a report on that scouting mission near the enemy’s barrier – soon. Get out of here, you lizard-shite idiots. Tomorrow we will talk, and you will prove your brilliance to me with the route we need to take to make this happen. Get out of here! he waved his hand vehemently dismissive of the three.

After they left the room, Garkullen muttered, I need to be distracted, or I will obliterate this building. The Attack room game is not what I need right now! He sent a message to a guard from the staff quarters. Send me a female – now.

Shea and his two companions walked down the corridor in silence. Eventually, Shea spoke up in his soft but resonant voice.

Get refreshments and meet me back in my work quarters when you're done. I'll be waiting for you so we can come up with a plan. We have to man-up radically.

Shea sat down in the chair in his work area, adjacent to the War-room. Spacecraft production was divided into different sectors, the First stage being nearby Bastar, which permitted easy and regular inspection. The mines were further to the south or the Dark Side of the planet and a good half-day but hard drive away. The Second and final production stage was in the opposite direction, the Cold northern side; the three sites forming a triangle of two long sides and one short, with Bastar central to its short side.

Shea had to work with the fact that Orb was geographically divided into four regions, all of which were harsh and not vaguely conducive to a contented or comfortably productive lifestyle. Everything revolved around the city Bastar as the pivotal point of the planet as well as the headquarters of the Kashada, and the naming of the four regions related either to light or temperature in their relation to the city: The Dark Side, The Cold Side, The eastern Rise, and The western Fade. The Rise side related to the direction from which the Sun rose, giving some daylight to the land and Bastar but brought the winds which blew in dust until it choked their world. The Fade side, per its word, the direction in which the Sun disappeared inviting gloom and the night to invade the center; the night when inhabitants could emerge and conduct their business without the dreadful dust that strove to saturate the air during daylight. Looking at a flat paper map, the Dark Side was below Bastar and the Cold Side far above.

He would have to strategize and increase the recruitment of pilots from all these regions, possibly not too difficult as they would have no choice. However, of significant importance was that the number of personnel to conduct the training of pilots would need to increase at all costs. The latter was a challenging task as an advanced training program would have to be developed quickly by his Senior flight training Kashada members.

On the production side, he would introduce more Inspectors who understood Garkullen's goal and implement harsh punishment to those who neglected their duty. He could not afford the craft manufacturing workers to be removed from their designated regions but would have trained people working shifts traveling out to them so that they could reach all.

He noted that they could take the pilots to a central training site. Many of them resided in the far regions of the planet but could come in stages to the Central command post of the Kashada. The usual Kashada pilot forces were based near Bastar and were accessible for training; however, requiring fully trained pilots for three thousand craft was a challenge never experienced before. This was the part of his role as Garkullen's assistant that he loathed to the core of his being. Nevertheless, his mind was made up by the time Sinchad and Karlis arrived for the meeting. The last thing on his mind was the recent mission; G would have to wait.

His intelligence was his weapon, and Shea knew it. Garkullen could never match him in this arena, but he could undoubtedly destroy him if he so chose.

On Torain, in the town of Sentro, Voran, wearing a warm wrap around his neck and a dark blue cloak to ward off the chill air, was at the body-treatment center near the Council chambers. He and Rulan had arrived to check on Scorcsan, who had been taken there four days ago, after his collapse. He had not recovered consciousness but frequently murmured in his unconscious state. Apparently, his son, Jonna, had visited him and could not understand what his Father was saying. Jonna had been devastated by the actions of the man he had admired for most of his life. This admiration had diminished somewhat over the past year as he had observed his deterioration and ramblings, but he had not taken his mutterings seriously. Moreover, he was shattered by the role Scorcsan had played in the entire saga with Mica, resulting in her having been sent away. He felt ashamed to be his son and didn’t return to see him a second time.

Voran leaned over the feeble old man. Scorcsan's white beard seemed longer, his hair thinner and his body very frail, much older than his eighty years. The white walls of the room and bright light did nothing to hide his poor physical condition. Voran stared at him, finding the recent experience incomprehensible. He had known this man well for over forty years and had dealings with him as a young man, seen him marry Jula, and witnessed his joy at eventually having a son. Voran had shared his grief when Jula had passed and knew how Scorcsan had struggled to deal with the loss. However, none of this explained what he had done to Mica, including the absolute abuse of her integrity and skill; and what he had attempted to do to Torain and the SOL.

Scorcsan moved, muttering under his breath. Voran leaned closer, and Rulan moved to the other side of the bed so he too could get close. The words were simple enough to understand.

Will not end ...not end here. My fight. Our fight is …. His voice faded away.

The two men stood quietly and leaned even closer. Scorcsan said nothing, just moved his lips as if trying to speak – but he uttered no sound. Instead, his left hand moved to reach for his right hand, briefly touching it, then it fell back to his side.

Rulan looked at Voran, his face expressionless, and whispered in his mono-syllabic style, what does he mean? ….our fight?

Voran moved further away, and Rulan joined him, still keeping an eye on the frail man in the bed.

I'm not sure, but it does confirm our need to do some investigating. We took his change in attitude lightly in the past and learned a tough lesson because of it. Voran spoke quietly, looking at Rulan with a serious expression. Let's stay here a while and see if he says anything else.

Rulan nodded, and they settled into the chairs alongside the bed, watching and waiting. Rulan sat