Date: Sat, 22 Nov 2003 08:14:35 -0600
From: Corey Perez <cperez@gmotion.com>
Subject: Eternal Dream-9

	Ok, it's been over 2 years since I wrote on this story.  To be
honest, I didn't really think it was any good.  Lately, I actually read it
after all this time.  I was able to read it objectively and decided that
aside from some typos and a couple of areas that were thin, it really
wasn't that bad.  It wasn't so much the story itself, as how I told it that
I had a problem with.  I'm used to telling my stories in a game, where I
have other people to help bring the characters a life of their own.

	So, I decided to go ahead and add on to it, and get the story out
of me.  I'm putting in more background info as I go along.  I have this
whole world rattling around inside my head, and I would like to share it
with you.

	So if you have any comments, suggestions or criticisms, feel free
to email me at cperez@gmotion.com


	Until then, enjoy.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Magic is a funny thing.

	It has it's own rules and it's own ways of doing things that seem
to act in defiance of nature, and is thus a part of that all-encompassing
category of weirdness: The Supernatural.

	But to be accurate, magic isn't really supernatural.  It is, in
fact, more natural than anything you might consider normal.  Magic is
nothing more, and nothing less than primal nature.  It is simply the
shaping of the energies of the universe.

	Magi are much like a riverbank, which guides the course of the
water within it.  They guide the power that flows through them into the
directions that it needs to go.  And like the riverbank, there is only so
much that they can contain, when they go over their limit you get disaster.

	Each person has different talents and limits as to how they can
shape this power, though they fall into broad categories by race.

	Elves tap into their inner energies.  Because this power is
intimately familiar to them, they are able to shape it almost effortlessly.
It is like learning to walk, or run.  It is a natural function of their
physiology to use magic.  As such, all elves have magical abilities to a
greater or lesser degree.  Some are capable of healing only the most minor
of wounds on their own bodies, while others can re-grow lost limbs or
resurrect the recently dead, shape illusions, trick the mind or any number
of gifts.  But wherever their talents might lie, their limits are
inflexible and they are born with all the potential they will ever have.

	Orks, as only some few scholars of ancient lore know, are a twisted
offshoot of elves created by the dark god Kerlack when he attempted to
destroy his fellow deities and assume sole control of the upper planes.  As
such their talents with magic run along similar lines.  They are not all
inherently magical as their fair kin, instead the power of their people
manifests within a very few who can tap the latent power of their tribes.
These special Orks, called shamans, are capable of wielding terrible magics
that grow more cataclysmic with the size of their tribes.  Shamans who
manage to gather several tribes into a horde are nightmares of which
legends are formed.  It was such a shaman who managed to tap into the
powers of Kerlack himself to twist the Dragons into their dark allies.
There is always fierce competition amongst the Ork tribes to increase their
sizes and thus the power of their shamans.

	Humans, for the longest time, had no magic whatsoever.  They are
not, and never have been, born with the power.  Without that natural
conduit, there was no way for them to learn to shape the power, and so the
humans had to do things the hard way.  When the Sorcerers of Haven arrived,
this state of affairs changed.  The Sorcerers taught that even though
humanity was born without magic within, there was nothing to stop them from
learning to shape the magic without.  Just as humans had to develop
technological science to make up for the lack of physical abilities, the
proper training in arcane science would allow people to make up for the
lack of mystical talent.

	By using the proper mental exercises to prompt your mind to move in
the arcane formulae, mankind managed to shape the elemental energies into
any structures that they are able to design.  While it lacks the
free-flowing flexibility of the magic wielded by elves and orks, the
codified human arcane magic can be consistently repeated by anyone with
sufficient mental strength to learn the formulae.  Since it is independent
of the original caster, this magic is perfect for imbuing power into
weapons, armor and other items.

	There are exceptions to these general rules: half-elves and
half-orks.

	Elf-human pairings are extremely rare.  The mindset of the two
races generally do not support a common ground on which to base an enduring
relationship.  Then of course, there is the dramatic difference between the
life expectancies of the two races.  Elves, being longer lived, are often
unwilling to enter into a relationship that virtually guarantees that they
will outlive their mate.  Humans of the other hand are often infuriated by
what seems to be complacency or plodding on the part of elves.  Their
longer lives tend to give elves a more laid-back approach to life, and they
are notorious for procrastinating.  It does happen on occasion however, and
when it does there is a tendency to breed true, or to put it simply, the
children are born either elf or human.  Rarely however, a true half-breed
is produced.  These children are prized because they not only posses the
natural magic of their elvin parent, they posses the ability to embrace the
arcane science and learn to use not only their own power, but also the
power of the world around them.  Some of the greatest wizards of all time
have been half-elves.  Half-elves have much of the stature of their human
heritage, tall and broad-shouldered; they tend to be well muscled and
graceful.  From their elvin parents they inherit the well defined facial
bones and elegant ears.  Half-elves tend to be breathtakingly beautiful and
are widely considered to embody the best of both races.

	Half-orks are without exception, the product of rape.  Orks take
prisoners to use as slaves, food, or sacrifices.  Occasionally some of
these prisoners escape, or are rescued.  The half-breed children, twisted
as they are by the dark inheritance of their ork parent, usually grow up to
be little more than orks themselves.  Others are strong enough to control
their baser natures.  Most of these exceptional half-orks live alone, or in
small communities, in secluded areas and devote themselves to
self-improvement and contemplation.  Without exception these children are
born with the power of a shaman.  If fact it has been theorized that this
is the ONLY way to produce a shaman, and the entire purpose of their
enforced breeding with other races is nothing more than a means to secure
the power of a tribe by creating more shamans.  It is impossible to be sure
as no one has been able to study ork society very closely, and half-orks
are indistinguishable from normal orks.  It is a question only a Historian
would be able to answer.

	Often, I have wondered.  What would happen if a true half-elf was
captured and forced to produce a child for the orks.  Would the child have
access to the power of the arcane as well as the talents of the orks?  It's
a question we hope never to have answered.

--Excerpt from Basic Magical Theory by Earlon Kharman
	Anthulsula Academy of the Arcane.

Part IX

	Ter'Zhull the Black, it was known to all living orks, was the
greatest shaman of all time (Any dissenters had already been killed).  Like
all of his kind, he was a half-ork.  Unlike any of his fellow Zhulls, he
had managed to gather virtually the entire race of orks into his horde.
While this alone would have made him the most powerful shaman since the
great Khornal'Zhull who had led the Great Horde against the elves and
humans over 1,000 years ago, it was not what made him the most powerful to
have ever lived.  Ter'Zhull was born of very special parents.  His father
was the shaman Herda'Zhull, who had led a raid against the elvin capital of
El'Analon and captured many slaves.  One of these slaves was Ter'Zhull's
mother: A half-elf.

	Ter'Zhull's mother, unlike all the other captured slaves, was
willing to endure the regular horrors that were required of her to have a
hand in raising her son.  She taught him of the arcane power that she had
learned at the academy of Anthulsula, and often she would mutter that she
knew what even the great wizard Earlon Kharman had not.  Many of the orks
thought she was mad, touched by Kerlack.  Chosen to train the champion of
their god to smite those who had dared to overthrow his rightful rule of
the Universe.

	Ter'Zhull knew better.  He knew that his mother was obsessed with
knowledge and lore.  She had told him how she had allowed herself to be
captured, and how she had used her power to ensnare the mind of his father
and compel him to give her a child.  A child she could shape into the
greatest wielder of magic in history.  A child that would be the answer to
the questions she had.

	As fate would have it, a bond developed between Ter'Zhull and his
mother.  It was strong enough that when he killed his father and took his
place as tribal leader, he declared that his mother was no longer a slave.
She was free to go, or be a part of the tribe as she wished.

	She stayed, and in a single night repaid years of humiliation and
torture in a means that still haunted the dreams of those who bore witness
to it.  She established for the entire tribe that she was neither weak nor
soft.  She was to be feared.

	Devoted beyond all reason to her son, she used her considerable
power in concert with his to establish control of a horde of epic size.
Together they discovered how to twist the powers of Spirit to bind the
souls of others to empower their magic, drawing from each soul the power
that would normally have been it's existence, until that soul was no more.
Still she stood by her son as he ravaged her former homeland, and she
walked with him through the bloodstained streets of El'Analon.

	At the foot of the steps of the Great Library they stopped.
Ter'Zhull gestured impatiently to his minions who brought forth writing
materials, which they handed to his mother.  She took the offered items
with a small smile that prompted the frightened orks to hurry from her
presence with alacrity, before she decided to do something unpleasant to
them for the fun of it.

	"Is there anything else you need mother?"

	"No my son." She responded with the smile still on her lips "I need
only this to make copies of the information you desire.  Fear not, I can
easily pass the wards on the Great Library and enter the Hall of Ages."

	"I know mother, I have faith in your abilities.  I just want this
done quickly so that I can be sure that there remains only one of royal
blood amongst the humans.  I need that assurance before I move to have the
heir killed and break the cycle for all time." He said quietly.  "Until
they cycle is broken, the outcome of our crusade is still in doubt."

	"Our victory is assured my son.  The Horde will sweep away these
unclean vermin, and Kerlack will assume his rightful place in the Heavens.
And you and I shall be elevated for our efforts to sit as his right hand
and take the place of those gods who rebelled against him."

	Ter'Zhull nodded without comment.  His mother touched his cheek
gently and turned to begin her climb up the stairs of the Great Library.
When she got the information he needed, he would be able to complete his
plans.  If Kerlack didn't elevate him to godhood as his mother proclaimed,
then Ter'Zhull would simply have to settle for ruling the entire world.

	It would do.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	"Your Majesty, I do not understand.  I saw his Highness burn with
my own eyes."  Count Beladon said.  "How can it be true that he has
returned to us?"

	The nobles who formed the leadership of the Army of Man were
gathered together in the pavilion of their lord King.  Kail sat upon a dais
that was carried with him for the purposes of such meetings in the field.
These lords and ladies represented a large portion of the political,
military and magical power of the Kingdom.

	Dera'Lione, Lord Commander of the Paladins, stood like a rock at
the king's right side.  Tall strong and as unmovable as a mountain, the
Lord Commander was known to be a firmly loyal man who would cheerfully
crush the life out of anyone who dared raise his hand against the King.
Sir Lance stood at his side; his head bowed slightly, quietly observing the
meeting.

	Magister Earlon Kharman, who was the head of the Royal Wizards and
acknowledged as the most powerful mage in the world, had walked away from
his beloved post as headmaster of Anthulsula academy to lead the Royal
Wizards in their time of war.  He had earned his fame in the Royal Wizards
and had even previously been their Magister, but had turned aside from the
martial path when the last ork incursion had been quashed nearly 70 years
before.  The Magister was nearly 120 years old, though he looked to still
be in his 20s.  Kept young and vital by the magic of his mate, the old
Magister looked to have a long life still to live.

	A'rion'Tel'anethar stood next to his beloved Magister.  An Elvin
Bladedancer, A'rion was a highly respected and feared master of the Song of
Steel.  That hypnotic fighting style of the elves combined their natural
grace and nimbleness with their natural magic to create a warrior of speed,
grace, beauty and unprecedented power.  The Bladedancers filled a space in
elvin society roughly equivalent to that which the Paladins held in the
human hierarchy.  He found long ago that Earlon's approach to life fitted
him perfectly, and had known at their first meeting that they were meant to
be together.  It had taken him a long time to get Earlon to see that
self-evident truth, but he had eventually managed and they had been
together for almost 90 years now.  A'rion followed Earlon wherever he went,
having no attachments of his own.  Besides which, he would allow no other
to watch his husband's back.

	Duke Harmon, Viscount Merleon, Baroness duPre' and Duchess Camile
were the leaders of the Council of Lords who oversaw domestic policy and
advised the King.  Though the King had the power to do as he saw fit, going
against the will of the Council could have serious repercussions for the
kingdom, and it's people.  Not that the councilors would intentionally
sabotage the kingdom, but it had been known in the past for overruled
councilors to resign their posts.  This tended to cause serious disruptions
in the operation of the kingdom, and was to be avoided if possible.  That
is not to say that NONE of the members were above abusing their position.
Duke Harmon and Baroness duPre' were members of what could be called an
"Opposition" to the policies of King Kail.  Most were self important, or
opportunistic nobles who resented the restrictions the royal house had
always placed on their power.  Their presence, while undesired, was
unavoidable.

	Count Beladon and his wife Emelia were both War Wizards from a
distant branch of the Royal line.  The Count had been the head of the
Prince's bodyguard, and his wife had supervised the Royal Wizards who
watched over the Prince's life.  The couple's devotion to their duty was as
unquestioned as their hatred for the orks who had killed their son only one
year ago.  They never spoke of what they witnessed the day Prince Ethan had
been executed by the orks, but you could see that burning fire in their
eyes and in the way they slaughtered orks wholesale on the battlefield.
They frequently had the same look in their eyes when they looked at Duke
Harmon or Baroness duPre'.

	"It wasn't meant literally dear." Emelia told him.  "Sir Lance
recently returned from a sweep of the area with Prince E'rin and another
boy.  A boy that looks exactly like our lost Price Ethan."  She glanced
over at the Councilors.  "They are intending to use him as a stand in."

	"A move that I sternly disapprove of your Majesty." Rumbled Duke
Harmon.  A large, barrel-chested man from the northern provinces, Harmon
had been spending the time of mourning since Ethan's death to maneuver his
way into greater power.  "I think that we should move on to choosing a
council of Regents for the unborn son of Prince Bruen so that if anything
happens to your Majesty, we can be assured of a smooth transition of
power."

	"I can only agree your Majesty." Baroness duPre' said smoothly.
"As long as you insist on leading this war personally, the succession is in
jeopardy.  If you will not return to the capitol, then you should at least
send back your unborn grandson and ensure that his caretakers are in
place."

	The Baroness had barely paused for breath when the king broke in.
"I appreciate both of you opinions on the matter.  Nonetheless I feel that
by having this young man take the place of Ethan that we can give hope to
our people in these dark times.  Our army's morale has been low ever since
the death of my son, and the fall of the elvin capitol."  He sighed.  "We
need this to hold our people together until my grandson is born, and
possibly until he is old enough to assume the Throne."

	"And if you die on this campaign?  What then your Majesty?"  Asked
Harmon.  "Do we put this pretender on the Throne?  If not, what excuse can
we use to explain to the people why we are setting him aside?  You put us
in a dangerous position your Majesty, we should move forward with what we
must do regardless of how much it might pain us personally."  The Lord
Commander inhaled sharply at the suggestion.  "The Succession must be
secured"

	"And the Cycle must be maintained.  Isn't that correct your Grace?"
asked Viscount Merleon.  He knew that Harmon approved neither of elves, nor
of gays.  Mentioning the Cycle was a bit of a cheap shot, but he felt it
was necessary to knock Harmon off his stride.  The Duke's flush told him
that it had worked.

	"Enough!" Kail said sharply.  "I have made my decision on the
matter.  I called you here to inform you, not solicit your opinions.  You
must all support this story whether you like it or not.  It is important to
our people, and so it will be done."

	"What do you think of this Sir Lance?"  Baroness duPre' asked with
a look of concern on her statuesque face.  "It was well known that you and
the Prince were a couple, do you think that you can pretend with this
imposter?"

	The Lord Commander looked at duPre' with dangerously narrowed eyes.
"Mind your own business you cruel, manipulative bitch!" he snapped.  "If
you had an ounce of morality to go with that mouth you could actually learn
to be a real leader instead of just a schemer!"

	"You can't speak to me that way you ironclad barbarian!" duPre'
shot back with a contemptuous sneer.  "If the 'noble' Sir Lance can't keep
up with the charade the whole plan is pointless."

	"Perhaps you don't think he can speak to you that way Baroness."
Magister Earlon said with a humorless smile on his face.  "But if you don't
learn to keep a civil tongue in your head I will be happy to eliminate the
problem."  He stared at her with eyes like ice.  "If I hear such from you
again, I will cheerfully turn your tongue to that of the serpent you so
closely resemble."

	"It's alright." Lance said quietly.  Unshed tears hung in his eyes
as he looked up to the now infuriated and frightened Baroness.  "It will
not be necessary for me to pretend anything my Lady.  Andy and Prince E'rin
have an... understanding.  As it was always intended that Ethan and Prince
E'rin should marry, the fact that Andy and Prince E'rin are together should
elicit no comment."

	"Does that satisfy your objection Baroness?" Kail asked in a tone
that suggested that it would be wise to drop the issue.

	"Of course your Majesty."  The Baroness murmured with a curtsey.

	"You may go."  Kail said.  As the assembled nobles filed out, Kail
noticed that Lance remained behind.

	"Was there something you needed to discuss with me Sir Lance?" The
King asked gently.

	"Yes my Lord, there is."  Lance took a moment to compose his face.
"I'm not sure that Andy understands the risk that we are placing him in.
When word reaches the orks, they will stop at nothing to kill him to ensure
the Cycle is broken.  I would not see him put in such peril unless he
knowingly volunteers himself.  Anything else would be without honor, and
would only serve to spit on Ethan's memory."

	Kail looked closely at his son's love, and knew that he could find
no fault with is argument.  He nodded.  "Very well Lance.  I will bring
both him and Prince E'rin here and I will explain the situation.  You
should attend to make sure that he understands what he's getting himself
into."

	Lance bowed to his King in gratitude and withdrew.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Andy had always loved history.  To be more accurate, Andy loved to
learn and he did it very well.  He studied anything that attracted his
interest, and threw himself into it with enthusiasm.  It was this love of
history that prompted him to wander the camp with Erin, under the watchful
eye of two Paladins.  After asking around, he found his way to where the
army's horses were picketed.

	In a large open field he found the horses wandering around,
nibbling on grasses or playing in the case of some of the younger ones.  He
was amazed to note that none of the horses were hobbled, or otherwise
restrained.  They seemed aware of his presence, but not particularly
concerned and a few of them turned to regard him gravely as he and Erin
walked up.

	"I've always loved horses." Andy said with a sad smile.  "When I
was young, my we had a house in the country and a couple of horses.  I
always missed them when we moved to Haven."

	"You do not use horses in your cities?" Erin asked puzzled

	"Nope.  We use cars babe." Andy said with a grin.  "A car is a
mechanical device that is like a wagon, only it is completely enclosed and
moves under it's own power."

	"Ah, magical constructs of your world."  Erin said, satisfied with
the explanation.  "We assumed that Haven was much like our world, only
filled with sorcerers.  I'm willing to bet you even fly without the a
griffin."  He said with a laugh.

	"Actually Erin, we do."  He laughed at E'rin's look of
astonishment.  "Airplanes dear.  Never mind, I'll tell you about it later."

	Near the center of the clearing was the most magnificent horse that
Andy had ever seen.  Bigger than a Clydesdale, with the lean look of an
Arabian, the pure white stallion towered over the horses around him.  Andy
approached it from the side slowly; the awe he felt at such a majestic
animal was even greater than when he had seen the griffins the Paladins who
had found them rode.  He held his hand out as he walked, so as not to spook
the animal.

	E'rin was watching Andy's face, sure that he was teasing him about
flying and determined to find some hint of it in his expression.  He
noticed the change come over his love's face, and looked around curiously
to see what had so enraptured Andy.  His eyes locked onto the stallion
immediately, and he felt a profound reverence wash over him.  In the
presence of such a creature, he could not but feel that the gods were with
him and the humans.  It was then he noticed that Andy was walking slowly
toward it.

	Bemused as he was by seeing the E'teriel, it took a moment for what
was happening to register, almost too long.  With a gasp he grabbed for
Andy's elbow, and came close enough to brush his arm, but not gain a grip.
Andy never seemed to notice.

	"Andy!" he called urgently. "Stop right were you are!"

	Andy stopped and turned toward him with a questioning look in his
eyes.  "What's wrong sweetie?" He asked.

	"That is an E'teriel, a divine steed.  Belshatha I beg you, go no
closer."

	Andy looked back at the stallion he had been approaching.  He
noticed that the horse had turned to stare directly at him.  Its gaze was
like none he had ever felt.  Piercing him, peering deep in his soul.
Judging him.

	"The E'teriel will permit only the purest of souls to approach
them.  Any who are found wanting are slain where they stand.  I love you
belshatha, but I do not know that you are so pure."  E'rin said nervously.
"I would rather not risk you when we have only just found each other."

	Andy stood watching the E'teriel for a few moments.  He knew as he
sure as his own name that the horse had seen something in his soul that it
did not approve of.

	"Rare is the man with no malice in his hidden heart." Came a voice
from behind them.  Both of the boys turned to see Sir Lance standing behind
them.  "Many harbor some secret hate or resentment or envy.  "Starstrider
will not tolerate such mortal foibles."  He went on with a sad smile.  "Do
not feel yourself to be any less because you do not meet his exacting
standards.  Few mortals can."

	"Starstrider?" Asked E'rin astonished. "An'anarae?  The great Herd
Stallion of the Heavens?"  He demanded incredulously.  "What is such a
great being doing here?"

	Lance walked past them, and placed his hands on the great
stallion's neck.  Starstrider nuzzled against his face gently, eyes full of
love and devotion.  "He is my friend and companion.  My steed and partner,
the rock of my life."  He smiled sadly and looked back at the two.  "It was
only Starstrider that kept me from falling into despair when my beloved
died at the hands of the orks."

	"I mourn your loss Sir Lance."  E'rin said with a small bow of his
head.  "What was the name of your belshatha?  I would send my prayers to
the gods to guide their soul back to you."

	"Ethan."  Lance said softly.

	Andy felt as if he had been punched in the stomach.  'No wonder he
kept looking at me that way.' He thought.  'It must have been a shock to
see me when I look exactly like Prince Ethan.  Oh my God!'  He couldn't
even imagine what the pain of seeing him kiss Erin must have been like.

	E'rin glanced quickly and Andy.  "I see.  In that case my sorrow is
redoubled.  I was not aware that His Highness was, involved with anyone."

	Lance nodded as he silently stroked Starstrider's neck.  "Ethan
felt somewhat guilty about it.  We were together before he became the heir
to the Throne.  When it became apparent that he would be wed to you, Your
Highness, he regretted that he would not be able to give you his whole
heart."  He looked directly at E'rin.  "He had intended to have me remain
with him as his concubine."

	E'rin nodded.  It was common practice for nobles to keep concubines
since their marriages were almost always financial or political.  It wasn't
uncommon for the families of the couple to use marriage as a way to end a
feud, which made for an.... Uncomfortable match.  Concubines were usually
love matches, and any children produced were almost always considered to be
children of the marriage.  "I hope, Sir Lance, that it was not a point of
difficulty for you."

	Lance shrugged minimally.  "I grew up expecting to be alone Your
Highness.  The love I shared with Ethan was a privilege that I will always
be grateful for.  We talked about his coming marriage with you.  I know he
loved me as I loved him, and the fact that he wanted me to stay by his side
for the rest of our lives meant more to me than I can ever explain."  His
eyes grew distant for a moment, lost in an image of what his future would
have been with Ethan at his side.  "Marriage was not important Your
Highness, only being with him."

	E'rin nodded, and decided to start directing the conversation in a
different direction.  "I must say that I did not expect to see an E'teriel
here.  It was well known that your steed was one of the Divine Herd, but I
didn't think that it would remain nearby unless you needed him."

	Lance smiled as he gently ruffled the stallion's mane.  "But I did
need him Your Highness, lately more than ever."  He noticed that E'rin grew
slightly uncomfortable again at the allusion to Ethan's death.  "You wonder
why he remains with me, do you not?"

	E'rin nodded.  "After what they have done, do you not hate the
orks?  Do you not desire to avenge Prince Ethan's death?"

	Starstrider stared directly at E'rin as he asked his questions, and
then shook his head sadly and turned his eyes to Lance, as if to prompt him
to speak.

	Lance nodded in agreement to the E'teriel.  "No Your Highness, I do
not hate them."  He said sadly.  "I pity them.  Forces beyond their control
twist them. They are turned into beasts by their people's traditions and
the harsh conditions beyond the Therin Wastes."  He sighed.  "I do not
relish the death of any creature, and I know in my heart that Ethan felt
the same.  He would not want me to kill other living things in his name.
Vengeance would be a stain upon his memory."

	E'rin looked from stallion to Paladin and back, and at last he
understood how it could be that they divine steed would remain, even if it
meant enduring the presence of the mundane and unworthy.  He knew that he
would never be able to be as pure as Sir Lance.  If Andy were ever killed,
he would not rest until every ork lay dead.  As it was he hated the orks
for what they had done to his people, and for what they must be doing to
his parents.  He felt humbled by the Paladin's gentle nature.

	"Enough about me Your Highness.  His Majesty sent me to find young
Andy and summon him to an audience."  He gestured to the King's Pavilion.
"If you would be so kind as to accompany me."

	With that the three walked off.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	"You don't know what to think of it do you?" The E'teriel asked the
Historian who had been about to follow the three to the Pavilion.

	Startled the Historian whirled around to fix the Stallion in his
gaze.  "I wasn't aware that your kind could see us."  He said, trying to
regain his composure.

	"Most cannot.  I am not most."  The Stallion said offhandedly.
"However, that was not an answer to my question.  I am not used to
repeating myself."

	The Historian drew himself erect.  "It is not my purpose to have
opinions on history Herd Stallion, merely to record it dispassionately."

	"Fascinating."  The Stallion remarked.  "It seems the fact that you
cannot lie, in no way prevents you from prevaricating to avoid telling the
truth.  I think the Gods will be interested to know that even the
Historians are not above a cover-up."

	"What are you accusing me of?"  The Historian demanded.

	'He actually looks nervous... fascinating.'  The Stallion thought
to himself.  "I accuse you of nothing Historian, I merely state facts.
Something that I would think you would be comfortable with."  He turned to
regard the three retreating figures.  "It is time for the Cycle to be
renewed, and that is why I am here Historian, to see to it that it
happens."

	"Why do you explain this to me?  Surely you are not interested in
posterity,"

	"Simple Historian.  I require your assistance."

	"Impossible!"  The Historian snapped.  "I am bound against
interference, just as I am bound against lying."

	"True, but you have shown that you can prevaricate.  And the fact
that the Histories do not record EVERYTHING you see and here everywhere
proves that you can exclude things from them."  He fixed knowing eyes on
the Historian.  "I require you to only do both of these things."

	The Historian gasped, openly shocked at such a suggestion.  "How
can you possibly ask me to misrepresent anything in the Histories?!"  He
demanded.  "It is blasphemy!"

	"Do you not know what is happening in El'Analon?"  The Stallion
asked.

	"No, I have been drawn elsewhere.  What does that have to do with
anything?"

	"The orks have taken the city.  Of that much I am sure you are
aware.  What you may not know is that they have a way to bypass the magics
woven into the buildings to keep them out."

	"What? Impossible!" The Historian staggered at the thought.  How
could the orks possibly overcome divine magic?

	"Not at all.  You see, they have a Half-Elf with them.  She is
collaborating with the orks.  She walks even as we speak amongst the
Histories, seeking out the information that the orks will need to crush
their enemies, and records it all for the benefit of the Horde."

	The Historian stared at the Stallion, utterly speechless.  It was
inconceivable that the Histories could be used as a means of achieving
military information.  The Guardians would prevent any with such intent,
and anyone who had the power to overcome them would only serve to call
attention to the conflict, and backup would surely arrive.

	Unless of course, the orks controlled the city and there was no
backup.

	Closing his eyes, the Historian sent out a thought across the
mystic bonds that bound him to the Histories, and his fellow Historians.
It was a link that had never been used, and he could feel the curiosity of
his fellows when they received his summons.

	He let himself be pulled to the Great Library by his connection to
the Histories, and waited as one by one, his fellows appeared.  The signal
he had sent had an absolute priority over anything else that occurred.

	When they had gathered together he spoke.  "Historians, we have a
problem."  With that he pointed to a table.

	There, they saw a half-elvin woman perusing the Histories, and
writing down the disposition of the Horde's Enemies.

	And the location of the Human and Elvin Heirs.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	Ok, that's part 9 for you.  I am thinking that I will be including
more in each chapter now.  I have had the time to allow the story to grow
in my mind, and to work out how I want to tell it.

	Hope you enjoyed it.

Corey.