The atmosphere of the tavern was loud and raucous. Bawdy music erupted from towering speakers as the band pounded, twanged and strummed their instruments with varying degrees of skill and focus. Half naked serving girls wove their way between drunken customers, moving in and out of the multitude of many faceted conversations as they served drinks throughout the bar. Drunken delinquents of all shapes, sizes, races and colours laughed and cursed in response to the lively comments boisterously bantered about by their equally drunk comrades and cohorts.
This chaotic dive was named the Hobbled Hobgoblin and the Hobbled Hobgoblin was Max Kimbal’s favorite pub within the city limits of the massive world capital Dirsellia.
An alcoholic physicist from an alternate reality turned royal advisor to a throne on a world not his own he had found that the tumultuous crowd was a wonderful place in which he could lose himself from the minor stresses of the palace life he had been living for the past thirteen months.
The dim lighting changed dramatically as the front door opened to admit the blazing light of midday. Drunk by noon was Max’s daily goal and he lazily turned his head towards the door to survey the newcomer silhouetted in the entryway. The door swung shut on its own, blocking out the undiluted rays of the sun, and as his eyes readjusted to the bars near perpetual gloom Max saw that the newcomer was a woman, a woman whom he knew. This woman was dressed in a striking combination of red and black and as she slunk her way through the crowd conversations slowed or ground to a complete stop altogether as she passed and was recognized by a few of the patrons.
Max sighed inwardly and finished the last of his drink for she was headed straight for him. The woman took the seat opposite him and said, “It’s never too early for you is it Max?” as he waved over a serving girl.
“Two whiskeys, one with ice,” Max told the server before he agreed, “It never is Sefu, it never is.”
The serving girl promptly returned with the two drinks and Max gave her an affectionate pat on her behind to send her off. “You’ve got to love the snappy service here,” he enthused and Sefu took a sip off of the top of the glass with ice. “So what brings you here at this time of the day assassin?” he asked speaking the word assassin quite a bit louder than the rest and chuckling with enjoyment as he watched the people around them cringe slightly.
Sefu scowled behind her glass and said, “Ex-assassin Max. You know I haven’t practiced that profession since Candlelite ascended the throne.”
“I do?” Max inquired innocently and as Sefu scowled again he answered himself, “Of course I do but,” and he waved his glass in front of her extravagantly. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Sefu could not help the smile that played at the corners of her mouth for there was something about this wizened little drunk of a man that amused her and always had. “I’ve been hearing some things,” she told him.
“What kinds of things?” he asked.
“The kinds of things that our young, new king may find interesting,” she leaned forward across the table and purred.
“Rumors?” Max asked leaning across the table as well.
“I believe them to be more than mere rumor,” Sefu answered and abruptly sat upright, tilted her glass to her mouth and drained half of it in two swallows.
Max admired anyone with a propensity for drink, especially a woman, and a gleam sparked in his somewhat dulled and bloodshot eyes. “And I imagine you’ll want to speak with him directly,” he stated before he too sat upright and drained half of his glass.
“Not at all,” Sefu surprised him. “You know as well as I do that even after all these months he still doesn’t trust me.” She smiled a predatory grin.
“Well you did try to kill him and Absinthe on more than one occasion,” Max guffawed and whiskey spittle flew from his lips.
Her predatory grin turned very predatory indeed as she savored the memories and Sefu let loose a small chuckle of her own.
“I suppose my efforts were doomed from the beginning,” she mused thoughtfully and finished her drink. “Damned prophecy!”
“I suppose they were,” Max agreed as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve, then he quickly changed the subject. “Why don’t I buy you another drink and you can enlighten me as to these things you’ve been hearing.”
The ex-assassin’s spirits perked up a bit and she pushed away the disappointment of the past. “Sounds like a plan you ol’ scoundrel,” she said and belched loudly.


The throne room was a long, wide stone hall with tall walls draped in magnificent tapestries. In the center of its expanse stood a long stone topped table buttressed underneath with stout timbers. The throne room was entered and exited at one end through a massive set of superbly carved and intricately inlaid wooden doors, fifty feet tall they were guarded by twelve men with swords sheathed but rifles ever ready. At the opposite end stood a pair of large stone thrones backed and seated with richly embroidered and plush cushions. Once these thrones had been made of solid silver but their present occupants felt a more primal kinship to the stone. Upon these thrones sat these occupants, a serious looking young blonde man and a beautiful red haired woman with green eyes that sparkled like emeralds.
The woman sat upon the left throne with a grace and poise that could scarcely be matched by any other female of her generation. Her name was Absinthe and at the estimated age of twenty-four she was the youngest queen in all the long history of the planet AnEerth. From her seat of authority she calmly surveyed all the happenings around her, the comings and goings of pages, messengers, dignitaries, farmers and soldiers, all there to conduct business with her husband the king. Upon them all she bestowed the gift of her radiant smile.
The man who sat to her right wore the bored expression of someone who wished they were anywhere but where they were. His name was Candlelite, High King of the planet AnEerth and as yet another disgruntled farmer’s squabble was resolved he rested his gaze on his lovely wife who brightened his day instantly with one of her radiant smiles. He adjusted his crown to a more comfortable perch on his head. She reached out, took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze which he returned.
“Ahem, my lord,” A polite cough from his right redirected his attention in that direction and to the woman who stood there.
The witch Farewethor, chief thaumaturgical advisor to the crown, stood with a bemused smile on her face as she looked patiently down upon her king.
“I’m sorry Farewethor,” Candlelite apologized tiredly although it was only early afternoon. “Where were we?”
Taking note of the young king’s weariness Farewethor made a diplomatic decision of her own and answered, “I believe we were just about to break for lunch my liege.”
Candlelite barely concealed his sigh of relief as Farewethor signaled a page who gathered his disciples and began emptying the throne room of all of the men and women who still awaited an audience with the king. Once they had ushered everyone from the room they left as well, bowing slightly to the king and queen before doing so.
“I will make my way to the kitchen and see what the chef has on the menu for today,” Farewethor said to Candlelite and Absinthe and then she disappeared into a bright flash of light.
Absinthe’s laughter tinkled softly and she confided, “One of these days I want to learn how to do that.”
Candlelite responded with a low chuckle of his own and rubbed his eyes while he replied, “One of these days I would like them to teleport a little less brightly.”
The young couple was laughing when a small side door to the right opened and in staggered the drunken scientist Max Kimbal.
“Max” Absinthe squealed delightfully and sprang from her seat to rush the old man whom she considered to be almost a father.
The energetic young woman wrapped her arms around him and as the already unsteady man became even more unbalanced he grunted, “Whoa there lass, before you topple the both of us!”
Absinthe gave him a wet kiss on the mouth and stepped back suddenly. “Eewww Max you taste like liquor!” she objected.
Candlelite laughed at the disgusted look that besmirched his wife’s delicate features and grasped the smaller man’s hand in his own. “Good afternoon Max. What brings you in here before dinner time?”
“I don’t know what it is that makes everyone think that they know me,” Max grinned toothily as he shook the young man’s hand. “I can be unpredictable sometimes.”
“Sure can Max,” Absinthe gushed happily as she hooked her arm in his and began to lead him to the long table. “As it is you’re just in time for lunch.”
“Good ‘cause I’m starving,” the scientist growled and allowed himself to be seated.
At that moment the throne room was illuminated by a bright flash of light which dissipated quickly to reveal the witch Farewethor and a serving cart heaped with delicious smelling foodstuffs.
“Good afternoon Maximillian,” the witch greeted as she pushed the cart over to the table.
“Hey there witchy, what kind of vittles have you got there?” Max craned his neck to get a better look at the over laden food cart.
“Wait your turn you old scoundrel,” Farewethor admonished as she slapped his hand away from the food.
“You’re the second woman to call me that today,” Max told her as he rubbed his hand good naturedly.
“And who would the first be?” Candlelite asked from his place at the tables head.
Absinthe laughed and placed her hand in his. “I’m sure it can wait darling. Let’s enjoy our meal first and talk shop second. Besides weren’t you getting tired of business?” she teased.
Candlelite smiled and put his suspicions on the back burner. “You are right my dear, as always. Let’s see what Farewethor has conjured for us this afternoon,” and he dropped the witch a playful wink.
“Conjuring is not my specialty, your highness,” Farewethor scolded.
“Damnit Farewethor, how many times do I have to tell you to drop the highness crap when it’s just us?” Candlelite scolded back.
“I am most sorry, highness,” Farewethor said with false contrition and a wink towards Absinthe.
“Now leave Farewethor alone Candlelite,” Absinthe laughed.
The young king leaned towards Max and whispered conspiratorially, “You see what I have to deal with every day?” and barely dodged a blow from his wife.
“Don’t drag me into it sonny,” Max told him around a mouthful of the food that had been deposited in front of him by Farewethor.
They all laughed at the old man’s statement and settled back like the good friends they were, talking and laughing over the scrumptious meal. When they had all consumed their fill the four sat back to discuss Max’s unannounced visit.
The physicist adjusted his glasses to a higher position on his nose and belched politely before he pulled out his ever present flask and took a drink. “Ahh, that hit the spot,” he said as he recapped the flask.
“The meal or the drink?” Farewethor asked him, arching an eyebrow sharply.
“Both witchy,” Max answered seriously for he had no reason to intentionally insult anyone. “Very nicely conjured.”
Candlelite erupted with laughter and the two women glared at him while Max picked a stray piece of food out of his teeth.
Candlelite managed to get himself under control and repeated his question from earlier, “So who was the woman you mentioned Max?”
“Huh, woman?” Max asked absentmindedly as he had still been contemplating his meal. “Oh yes, that woman. Why it was our own dear Sefu Atarle.”
Absinthe’s usually cheerful expression immediately clouded over at the mention of the assassin’s name and Candlelite’s eyes narrowed when he said, “I figured as much. What did she have to say?”
“Who cares?” Absinthe demanded petulantly. “Candlelite should have had her exiled from the kingdom.”
“Now dear, the planet is the kingdom,” Farewethor chided motherly. “Where would he have sent her, Earth?”
“Ladies please,” Candlelite interrupted their debate. He turned back to Max. “And what did she have to say?” he repeated.
“That she’s been hearing things,” Max told him, the alcohol making him unintentionally evasive.
“What kind of things?” Candlelite asked patiently. “Rumours?”
“She said that she didn’t believe they were,” Max answered. “Apparently she’s been tracking an old friend of the late king Zakeriah.”
“And who might that be?” Farewethor asked.
“None other than your very own predecessor, witchy,” Max smiled.
“Nefarious?” Farewethor was only slightly shocked by this revelation. “But he hasn’t been heard from since Candlelite took Mega’N’s recommendation and had him step down as High Magician.”
“That’s because he’s on Earth,” Max informed her.
“Earth!” Candlelite exclaimed.
“Earth,” Max repeated. “It seems that the messenger that came back from the Sunset Monastery was really the second of the two spies sent here by Harmony before he made his way back from Earth.”
“Oh my!” Farewethor exclaimed.
“What does that have to do with Nefarious?” Absinthe asked before the witch had a chance to feel sorry for herself.
“Could you pass me some more of that creamy pastry stuff? Max asked Farewethor and then with his mouth full he answered Absinthe’s question. “Well it seems that he was pretty miffed at being dismissed from the palace and was approached by this spy for whatever reason and decided to follow him back through the wormhole.”
“For whatever reason?” Candlelite mused. “What do you mean by that?”
“Sefu was unable to specify,” Max said. “Evidently by the time she caught wind of this the trail was already six months old. It took her this long just to track down what little information she had. One more thing she heard though was that before they departed for Earth they went on a journey to the other side of AnEerth in search of some artifact of power that’s supposed to be related to the Lupelire.”
“The Luplire?” Candlelite muttered and pulled a small wolf figurine from within the folds of his clothes. It was carved from a chunk of amber and hung about his neck by a fine silver chain. It had been a parting present from he and Absinthe’s one time captor, the now departed Archmagi Florencii Splendora Ambrosia. It had been stolen by her from the dark sorcerer Harmony and given to him when he and Absinthe had been rescued from Harmony by the witch Farewethor. It was purported to be one of nine ancient artifacts of power and contained within it the magical power to control absolutely any of the canine/lupine species including both wolves and werewolves.
“Did they find it?” Farewethor queried. “What they were looking for.”
“That was one of the things that Sefu was unable to ascertain,” Max answered.
“Well whether they did or not they can’t be up to any good,” Candlelite decided. “Why didn’t we get any reports of their departure through the wormhole?”
“I have no idea,” Max admitted. “With the safeguards we’ve installed it should have been impossible for them to make the crossing undetected, either from this side or Earth side.”
Candlelite quietly considered what Max had told them for a few minutes before he came to a decision.
“Is Sefu still in the city?” he asked.
“She said she’d be for a few,” Max reached for a bit of bread on Farewethor’s plate.
“Hey!” the witch protested.
“Oh, sorry,” Max apologized casually as he munched. “Were you done with that?”
Farewethor muttered something impolite under her breath and Candlelite shook his head at the old man’s antics before saying, “Good. I have a chore for her if she’s not doing anything.” Max’s eyebrows rose quizzically but he kept silent as the young king continued, “Max track her down and ask her if she’d be willing to go to Earth and see what she can learn about Nefarious’ whereabouts and recent activities. I want to know what Harmony’s spy expects from our old magician. Tell her if she’s willing to do this for me there’s a large bounty in it for her.” He pulled out a coin purse and tossed it in the scientist’s direction. “This is just a taste of what she’ll get if she brings me the information I want.”
Max hefted the bag thoughtfully and grinned. “I’m sure she’ll agree,” he said. “That woman will do just about anything for gold.”
“You don’t have to tell us,” Absinthe stated sourly. “Are you sure this is such a good idea?” she asked Candlelite. “Can we really trust her?”
“Well she didn’t have to come to us with this information,” Candlelite said. “And while she’s definitely an unscrupulous bitch I do believe she’s sincere in trying to change her evil ways.”
“I agree,” Farewethor interjected. “Despite her coloured past Sefu has exhibited a substantial change in character over the last year. I’ve had reports that she has gone so far as to actually refrain from killing people.”
Candlelite laughed at this revelation. “You’ve had her followed?”
“You can never be too careful,” Farewethor replied modestly.
“I still don’t like her,” Absinthe pouted. In some respects the young queen’s attitude still came across as a touch childish.
“You have that right dear,” Farewethor told her as she got up to begin gathering dishes back onto the cart. “It seems that we’ve pretty much finished up here. I’ll just zip these on down to the kitchen and when I return we can resume our busy schedule.”
Candlelite groaned at this reminder of his official duties as the witch and serving cart disappeared in a flash of light.
“Ah the joys of bureaucracy,” Max unstoppered his flask and took a swallow. He resealed the flask and stood up. “I’ll be excusing myself then. I’ll just head on back to the city and relay your message to the assassin.”
“Good,” Candlelite stood as well. “Also tell Sefu that I would like her to report directly to me and Absinthe, she doesn’t have to slink around the city like an outlaw any longer. And thank you Max.”
“I think she prefers it that way,” Max winked at Absinthe. “But I’ll let her know ya said as much. And yer welcome, the both of ya.” And with a lurch the old scientist turned about and staggered off.
Absinthe came to stand by her husband. She wrapped her arms around him and laid her cheek to his chest. “What do you think this is all about?” she asked him.
“I don’t know but something is making me feel uneasy all of a sudden.”
“Me too,” she shivered slightly in his arms. “It’s like a cold, prickly feeling running up and down my spine.”
“Mine too,” he told her rubbing her back gently. “Mine too.”


Sefu had not been surprised when the wizened little scientist had approached her in the Hobbled Hobgoblin. She had just broken the arm of a large tub-stomached man who had made the mistake of getting too friendly with her and had just resettled to finish her drink when he sat down.”Nice job,” Max praised as he took a seat and looked around searchingly for a serving girl.
“Old reflexes die hard,” she shrugged. “He should have known better.”
Finally tracking down a drink Max nodded in assent and grinned broadly. “I suppose he should’ve.”
“You talked to the boy?” she asked sulkily. Her mood had soured since Max had departed earlier and the encounter with the randy drunk had done little to improve it.
“Yep,” Max took a swallow of his drink. “He wants you to go to Earth and see if you can find Nefarious, see what he’s up to.”
“Ok,” she said.
Max was a little surprised at her ready acceptance of the task. “Just like that, eh?”
“Yep,” Sefu eyed the scientist strangely. “Max, have you ever woke up one day and asked yourself why you’ve lived your life the way you have?”
“Nope,” he answered warily. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Me neither,” she laughed and pounded back her drink. “I’ll leave first thing in the mornin’.” Then she stood up abruptly and left Max, a little drunk and more than confused, sitting alone in the crowded bar.

Now, after a discrete service rendered by an old mage she was acquainted with, she stood in the shadow of the Dark Tower looking up at the swirling, kaleidoscopic mess of colour that perched at its top. This was the Harashna, or wormhole as it was called on the Earth sides, and it was her ticket beyond space and time, through the very fabric of reality, that would take her not to another planet necessarily but into a completely different universe which resided in another reality of the multiverse. She had to admit to herself that she was a little scared. Pushing her fear aside she entered the tower and began the long ascent to its top.
The Dark Tower had once been the home of the dark sorcerer Harmony, one time overlord of Earth, would be conqueror of AnEerth. It was a massive stone structure made of large, interlocking blocks approximately ***** feet around at its base which supported it’s nearly ***** feet of height. Like most of the impressively engineered feats of architecture on AnEerth its construction would not have been possible nor would it remain standing without the aid of magic. The top was accessed by a large staircase that spiraled along the inside of the exterior wall. Each step was twenty feet wide and sixty feet long, and there was a reason it was called the Million Tiered Tower, because there was one million of them in all. To say that it was a chore to climb them would be an understatement and it was nearly as tiring to make the journey in reverse, from the top to the bottom. There was definitely no way this edifice of evil could carry even half its height without magic.
Sefu was in excellent physical condition but even so it was nearly half a day and many periods of rest before she finally cleared the last step and stood gazing out at the landscape from the tower’s rampart. The view was extraordinary and as she stared across the many miles of her homeland that stretched out before her she felt a little more of the ice in her heart melt. What the hell is happening to me? She wondered to herself. First fear and now what, love? She had not been entirely honest with the Earth scientist the previous day when she had said that she had not woke up questioning her life but she pushed such thoughts away and turned to contemplate the Harashna.
The Harashna was an unstable mess of colour and movement that sat slowly swirling about ***** feet from the edge of the tower. It writhed and pulsated with a rhythm and cadence that made a person believe that it was a living entity, breathing, maybe even watching. Sefu shook her head and noticed from the position of the sun that she had been standing entranced by the portal for longer than she thought. She laughed inwardly for she had heard that it could have that effect.
“Well it’s no time like the present,” she said aloud.
Sefu took a dozen steps away from the edge to get a running start, cast one last look at the land she had known her entire life, ran and leapt sailing into space and the Harashna…
…to be roughly deposited in soft, dry, brown soil that sent up a small cloud of dust from her impact.
“Good afternoon assassin,” a male voice rumbled from above her.
Sefu squinted up through bright sunshine and made out the shape of a man standing next to her head, a man with a voice she was quick to recognize. “Hello yourself McAriicoys,” she muttered as she stood up and dusted herself off.
McAriicoys was the immortal Commander General of an elite group of mercenary soldiers that were contracted almost exclusively by the crown. They had been drawn together and lead by a man who had been McAriicoys closest friend for most of his long, long life, Jeshux DuTerriux Jules and he had been killed during the last moments of the war against the mad sorcerer Harmony. Jeshux had also been an immortal and had formed his army from men and women who shared this trait; this had earned them the nickname ‘Jeshux Immortals’ and it was a title that they still carried to this day. A strong, solid built, square bodied man of average height McAriicoys had red brown hair and a red beard, both of which were just becoming shot through with strands of white. At nearly a millennium old he was the veteran of over a dozen wars that made Earth’s world wars pale by comparison and countless major and minor skirmishes and battles, and after the death of Jeshux had considered it his obligation as second in command and to his friend to take charge of the Immortals. Numbering nearly forty thousand strong McAriicoys had requested, and been granted by the King, that his mercs be stationed at the Earth-side Harashna watch station, the Complex. And now he stood looking at the dimensionally displaced assassin.
“Enjoy the ride” he asked.
“Not in the least,” Sefu managed a smirk. “I take it you were expecting me.”
“We received a message from the King late last night,” McAriicoys confirmed.
Sefu looked at the activity of soldiers moving all around her and asked, “Shouldn’t you be watching the other side as well?” She arched an eyebrow with wicked delight, “In light of what we’ve learned I mean.”
“We are,” McAriicoys own eyes gleamed for a moment.
“I didn’t see anyone,” Sefu protested.
“You wouldn’t,” McAriicoys laughed. “Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” Sefu was surprised at how famished she suddenly felt.
“Follow me,” McAriicoys intoned, turned and strode off.
It’s in his nature to give orders, she thought as she watched his broad back retreat, then she gathered her wits, checked the sun to get her bearings, and followed after the mercenary commander.
The Complex was a sprawl of buildings, each of which was a bustle of activity, and looked pretty much how Sefu had envisioned it would. Being the one time home of the physicist Max Kimbal for more than sixty years she had been sure to probe the old man for a detailed description of the facility. From what Max had told her the main building housed the mess hall and was located directly in line with the Harashna. These facts coincided with what she was experiencing now because McAriicoys was leading her towards a large central building directly in front of her.
As she looked around Sefu was amazed by the preternatural tidiness of everything, even the dirt appeared to be clean and in its place. Although Max had explained to her about the temporal stasis effect generated by the Harashna’s presence she had been unable to fully appreciate it on the AnEerth side due, she supposed, to the Spartan construction of the tower and the sparse environment it was located in. Here on Earth however it was a different story for the Complex was located in the middle of a lush and beautiful forest that appeared to be almost like a large, well manicured garden. As for the facility itself every building had an immaculate paintjob, every window was spotless and streak free, and if the front doors to the main building were any indication were as perfectly oiled and squeak free as well.
“Nice place,” Sefu remarked casually.
“It’s pretty easy to keep up,” McAriicoys said as he led her through another set of double doors into a cafeteria style mess hall packed with people and tables. The ancient soldier briefly remembered his first time in this room with Jeshux while the two of them had chased Candlelite across the countryside; of course at the time the boy had been considered to be little more than an animal by either of them and the memory made him smile. He had other memories of this room as well but they were more painful and he quickly pushed them aside. McAriicoys directed Sefu to some food. Then he pleaded other matters to attend to and after leaving instructions with one of his men to lead her to the main control room when she was done eating he left.
After Sefu finished her meal she followed her guide to Whiskey Control, a nickname it earned from the permanently ingrained smell of alcohol apparently due to decades of Max’s incessant drinking in the room as he analyzed data streams on the Harashna after Harmony’s invasion of Earth. She almost felt a pang of sympathy for the scientist’s loneliness, cooped up in this room for sixty years, the only survivor of a horrific massacre by creatures that he had thought only to be myth. These were concepts the assassin could relate to.
Not long after her arrival McAriicoys stormed through the door. “I don’t have long to brief you,” he told Sefu as he unfolded a map of the planet on the table in front of her. “I’ve I’ve put some of our mages to the task of tracking some recent magical disturbances.” He pointed to six red X’s marked on various continents. “There’s magical residue in these five areas.” He stabbed a finger at five of the X’s. “With a large buildup concentrated here.” His finger moved to the remaining X located in the middle of the large southern continent. On AnEerth it was called Illisieon, here it was labeled Antarctica. “I’ve assigned a man to accompany you on your quest. He’s a skilled teleporter. He’s outside and will take you to the armory and the kitchen where you can gather any supplies you may think you need. I know you’re adept so I’ll leave you to it but before I do, do you have any questions?”
“This man of yours realizes I’m in charge?” Sefu growled.
“Completely,” McAriicoys assured her.
“Good. Then I’m ready.”
“Ok. I suggest you take some time to familiarize yourself with the map. You can take it with you but I wouldn’t rely on having it,” McAriicoys said and Sefu nodded in agreement.
McAriicoys turned and headed for the door but paused when he reached it, “Oh, and Sefu.” She looked up from the map and he said, “Good luck.” Then he left the room slamming the door behind him.
Sefu spent a few more minutes familiarizing herself with the map. It did not take her long for except for names the major landmasses and terrain features were basically the same as those of AnEerth. She noted that the inhabitants of this world had more of a tendency to stick together than those of her own for there were lass major cities spread across the continents and they seemed to be larger, indicating larger populations. At least this would have been true for pre-Harmony times, who knows what the state of the world was at this moment? Earth was just over a year without the stability of Harmony’s iron rule and was being left to pick up the pieces on its own. King Candlelite had decreed that except for the mercenaries stationed at the Harashna there would be no AnEerth influence in Earth’s domestic affairs, at least for the time being. When she was satisfied she had all the details memorized Sefu rolled up the map, tucked it under her arm, and gladly left the smell of Whiskey Control.
The teleporter that McAriicoys had mentioned stood leaning against the wall outside the door and jumped as it opened suddenly and Sefu strode passed.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “Hey, wait up! Do you even know where you’re going?”
“Nope but you do,” she told him without stopping or looking at him when he came abreast of her. “Armory, kitchen.”
“Ok,” he said as they hit the double doors and walked in to the sunshine. “Armory’s this way.” And he turned to their left leading her around to the other side of the building.
“So you’re Sefu Atarle huh?” the teleporter asked and she gave a noncommittal grunt. “Yeah, of course you are,” he muttered. “My name’s Random, Random Rhaines.” Another noncommittal grunt emerged from Sefu. “Ok, not much for conversation,” he observed. “That’s fine, we don’t have to talk.”
“Good,” Sefu told him.
Random looked at the most notorious assassin in the history of AnEerth and had the impression she was messing with him.
Random stopped in front of a small shed that was only six feet by eight feet square and Sefu looked at him skeptically.
“What the hell is this?” she asked him.
“The armory.”
“You’re kidding?” Sefu hoped he was not for his sake.
The merc just looked at her and opened the door. He reached inside and flipped on a light switch. An incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling came to life and illuminated a narrow staircase leading down. Sefu glared at the merc and headed down. He did not know how close he had just come to getting a broken arm. At the bottom of the stairs was another door and she pushed through it into a darkened room. Random, close behind, followed her through and turned on another light switch. Rows and rows of weapons were revealed in a room the size of a small airplane hangar. Sefu let out a low whistle at the sight of all the armaments.
“You like it?” Random grinned.
“Yes,” Sefu said as she lightly ran her fingers down a rack of high discharge plasma rifles.
“I thought you might,” Random told her as he followed her down the aisle. “McAriicoys had it built right after we reclaimed the Complex from Harmony’s rearguard, had the mages unearth the initial cavern in one chunk. It was quite a sight to see.”
“Where are the swords?” Sefu asked stopping to turn towards the merc and look at him for the first time.
He was an attractive man she observed. A little on the short side though, Sefu guessed him to be no more than five foot three or four inches. He had dirty dishwater blonde hair with the striking and somewhat rare combination of brown eyes. He wore his hair longer than what was usually regulation for a military outfit and she thought that was refreshing in an enlisted man, it spoke of a hint of rebellion. He also wore his uniform a little baggy but she could tell by the way he carried himself that he was well built for his size. Probably not an ounce of body fat on him, she thought and then caught herself and looked away sharply. What was she thinking? She had never thought of men as anything more than tools, something to be used and thrown away. What was happening to her these days?
“They’re over here,” Random said as he suddenly felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze.
“Lead the way,” Sefu muttered as she hoped she was not blushing.
If she was Random did not notice and he led her over to an aisle on a far wall that held dozens of bladed weapons. There was everything from conventional steel blades to the more modern ion and plasma swords. After some prolonged deliberation she chose a masterfully crafted particle sword. It’s total length was about three feet with an eight inch hilt that she could comfortably grip with both hands. She gave it a few practice swings and decided that it was superbly balanced which inspired her to whip it around in more complex gestures.
Random stood off to one side and was visibly impressed although he had expected no less from a person with her reputation.
Sefu pressed a small button concealed under the cross-guard and heard a low hum as she felt the weapon begin to vibrate through her palms. When activated the button caused the blade of the sword to become sheathed in an invisible layer of super charged particles that protected it and made it virtually indestructible. She jerked suddenly and swinging the blade in a wide arc carved a chunk out of the concrete wall.
Turning off the weapon with a satisfied smile she told the startled merc, “This one will do.” And set out to find a scabbard she liked. Random just shook his head.
After she had equipped herself with all of the weapons that she could comfortably carry- a standard issue plasma pistol, light weight photon rifle, an Earth made projectile pistol called a Walther P390 she tucked into a shoulder holster under her right arm, and a couple of perfectly balanced throwing knives in each boot- Sefu had Random lead the way out of the armory and to the kitchen where they both loaded up backpacks full of non-perishable foodstuffs and water.
Sefu was feeling pretty well established with her sense of direction now and was the one to lead them back outside where she went to one of the many picnic tables scattered about the grounds. She retrieved her map from where she had tucked it in her backpack, unrolled it on the table and pointed to one of the red X’s.
“This is where we’re going first,” she told Random. “I want to investigate the minor disturbances before we tackle the major one.”
The first X was located on the north western portion of the continent they were situated on, the map called it North America and the area with the X was Alaska.
“Sounds good,” Random said as he studied the map. “How do you want to make your approach?”
“We should come in from a distance,” Sefu said shrewdly. “We don’t know the terrain or the condition we’re going to be getting ourselves into.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Random agreed. “And I should scout our site of arrival beforehand to make sure we don’t end up inside a tree or mountain.
That was something Sefu hadn’t considered about teleportation and the idea of ending up in the center of a mountain definitely held no appeal. “Agreed,” she said quickly. The longitude and latitude of each X had been printed neatly beside each X in the same red pen and she told Random, “Let’s come in from no more than ten miles from the coordinates, no less than five.”
“No problem,” Random acknowledged with a cocky smile. Then without waiting for more instructions he was gone with a burst of sun orange light.
Whoa, Sefu thought. I’ve never seen anyone with an orange signature. She made a mental note to ask her unwanted but necessary companion about this minor detail.
Random was back in under ten minutes with a cheerful smile on hes face and the report of a nice little clearing by a brook that would be perfect for their landing upon his lips. “It’s about seven miles off target,” he told her. “Are you ready for this?”
“I’ve teleported before,” she growled at him.
“Ok then.” And without another word they were gone.


Over the course of the next three days Candlelite failed to shake his feeling of unease and in fact it continued to grow. He could not concentrate on his day to day responsibilities as king of a united world empire; he barely ate and did not sleep at all but roamed the night outside the city walls trailing a pack of werewolves behind him. His instincts were running just as wild as he was and he could not quite put a claw on why. He knew that it had something to do with Nefarious and Harmony’s spy but he did not know what and it drove him crazy. It was in the wee hours of the fourth morning that he came to a decision. He could not stand it anymore and he had to find the secret source of his aggravation. As the sun broke free its moorings from the horizon he decided that he would have to go on a quest of his own, a quest to satisfy his need to know if Nefarious had been successful in finding the artifact of power he sought. He returned from his tramp through the wilderness and retrieved his apparel from where he had stashed it before returning to the palace to inform Absinthe and Farewethor of his decision.
He knew that Absinthe would be awake at this early hour, same as him, and he knew he would find her puttering around their bedroom suites in the northeastern section of the palace.
As soon as she spotted him Absinthe knew that he had come to a decision about something. He no longer wore the anxious expression that had haunted him for the past three days and he fairly bounced into the room so pronounced was the spring in his step but she was not the type of wife to pry into her husband’s moods knowing that he was the type of husband who would come to her with his problems when he was ready.
“Good morning my love,” Candlelite beamed at her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her in to plant a loving kiss on her cheek.
“Well someone had a good night,” she giggled and squirmed in is grasp finally managing to tug free. “How are the ‘wolves?” she asked. The ‘wolves were Candlelite’s favorite werewolves Ozzie and Harriet the leaders of his own personal pack that he kept, trained, and hunted with. Besides the one that originally bite him the alpha male and his bitch were actually the first two werewolves he had had a personal encounter with. It was during the Harmony war, after he had aquired the Lupelire and they had been with him ever since. Sometimes he even let them into the palace and they cuddled up with Absinthe and him on the rug in front of the large stone fireplace in their living room.
Candlelite laughed and said, “They’re fine and yes I had a good night, it was,” and he hesitated for a moment while he searched for the right word. “Enlightening,” he finished.
“In what way?” she asked gentley trying not to sound like she was probing.
Candlelite knew what she was thinking, it was just one of the many reasons that he loved her and he had nothing to hide from this loving, gentle woman so he just came right out and told her, “ I’m going to pick up Neferious’ trail at this end of things.”
Absinthe knew her man well, it was hard to believe that they had not even known each other for two years yet, and she had suspected as much. “Oh, and the artifact of power?” was all she asked.
“I need to know if he found it,” he answered her matter-of-factly.
“I’m coming with you,” she told him just as matter-of-factly.
Candlelite knew his woman just as well as she knew him and he knew she was going to say that. He laughed, lunged, and pulled her to him again. “I knew you were gonna say that,” he revealed.
She kissed him long and passionate on his mouth for she surely loved that man. Any other spouse would have spoke up in denial or worry over his wife accompanying him on a potentially dangerous journey but not hers. “I love you,” she told him sincerely after she broke the kiss. “More than you know.”
“Oh I know,” he told her seriously. “And I love you too.”
“Well we’d better go find Farewethor and break the news,” she told him.
“Yep I suppose we will,” he agreed but his eyes centered on their bedroom door. “I guess the kingdom will have to run itself for a while.”
Absinthe followed his gaze and giggled, “I suppose it will.” She smacked him playfully on his stubbled cheek before she slipped from his grasp and ran for the bedroom door.
Candlelite waited a moment to enjoy watching her retreat across the room before he followed after her and shut the door behind them.

Farewethor was a little more up in arms over Candlelite’s revelation that Absinthe and him would be going traipsing about the countryside in search of Neferious’ intentions with the ancient artifact.
“But what about the kingdom?” she moaned. “Isn’t there someone you can send in your stead?”
“I’m sure there is,” Candlelite said. “But that’s not the point.”
“The kingdom can run itself,” Absinthe interjected and Candlelite barely contained his smile.
“The point is,” he told Farewethor. “That for the last three days every fiber of my being has been screaming at me to act and now that I’ve decided on a course of action it’s stopped. I don’t know what Neferious is up to but I know that it’s not good and I also know that I can’t just sit here and wait for someone else to find out what it is.”
“And what about Absinthe?” Farewethor asked the young king.
“I go where Candlelite goes,” Absinthe said.
Candlelite gave Farewethor a ‘you know how she is’ shrug and said, “There you go, from the horse’s mouth.”
“What?” Farewethor asked.
“Sorry,” Candlelite apologized. “It’s an Earth expression.”
Farewethor shook her head in exasperation at the young couple before she turned away and gave a sigh of defeat.
The witch turned to face them again and asked with resignation, “Who are you taking with you?”
“Candlelite smiled, mother Farewethor had been convinved and the battle was won. “I haven’t had much time to put much thought into it,” he admitted. “Any suggestions?”
“Besides Max,” Absinthe said. “We’re definitely talking him. It’ll do him good to get out of the bars.”
“Agreed,” Farewethor agreed. Ever since Candlelite and Absinthe had taken the throne the scientist had been spending the majority of his time bar hopping through Dirsellia. He claimed that it was where he could do the most good for the crown as bars were the best place to pick up information. He had named himself chief intelligence officer and as of now none could deny that his position as such had not become useful.
“I think you should see if Mega’N would like to accompany you as well,” Farewethor suggested thoughtfully. “I’ve been to visit her a few times since your coronation and I think it would do good for her to get out as well.” “How has she been?” Absinthe asked guilty that she had not made time to visit the former High Queen since she had taken her place.
“Outwardly she claims to be ok but inwardly she is still in a large amount of pain,” Farewethor told them. “She took the death of Zakeriah very hard. She loved him very much and was never far from his side in all of the hundreds of years they were together.”
A solitary tears of compassion crept from each of Absinthe’s gentle eyes and tracked down her pale cheeks. She reached out and squeezed Candlelite’s hand for she could never imagine losing him. “That poor woman,” she said and felt even worse for not visiting.
“You tell us where she is and we’ll ask her,” Candlelite promised as he gave Absinthe a reasurring squeeze of his own.
“Good Farewethor said. While she had been High Queen Mega’N had always gone out of her way to make her feel welcome in the palace and had been, along with Commander General Jeshux, one of her strongest supporters when she had volunteer to rescue the Chosen Ones from Harmony’s captivity. “I heard recently that your old mentor Vohrmint Raspenmort was back in the city as well. Perhaps he could use an adventure?”
“Vorhmint!” Candlelite exclaimed. “The old dog! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry but quite frankly it slipped my mind,” she appologized.
“No matter,” Candlelite brushed it aside. “He’s definitely on the list.”
“I will contact him immediately then,” Farewethor said. She was pleased that this young couple, whom she considered to be her charges, would be in good hands with the mercenary veteran in tow.
“The sooner the better,” Candlelite said with excitement creeping into his voice. Over a year of palace life and kingdom affairs had started to wear thin on his animal side’s need to be free. He honestly did not know how king Zakeriah had been able to stand it for the better part of a thousand years.
“You could come with us Farewethor,” Absinthe invited. “We are going to need a teleporter if we’re going to be travelling to the other side of the planet.”
The witch smiled, pleased to be included. “That’s very nice of you Absinthe but despite what you might think this kingdom will not run itself. I’m afraid that I’ll have to sit this one out.”
“Sorry Farewethor,’ Candlelite grinned.
“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “Things will still be here when you return.”
“Don’t remind me,” he laughed.
“I think I have just the man in mind to be your teleporter,” Farewethor told him. “Why don’t the two of you spend today getting yourselves ready while I put the rest of the details together. I’ll have Max and Vohrmint meet you here this evening and then you can visit with Mega’N in the morning before you disembark.”
“Sounds great,” Candlelite agreed. “Thank you Farewethor.”
“Yes Farewethor, thank you,” Absinthe echoed and gave her a hug.
“No bother,” the witch said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

It was while Candlelite and Absinthe were enjoying what would more than likely be their last hot meal for a while that Max and Vohrmint came strolling into the throne room, drunk, hanging off each other, singing a lusty ballad about a farmer’s daughter and her many suitors. Laughing like school children they waved their free hands about wildly, Max his right and Vohrmint his left, and each held their own bottle.
“Hiya kiddies!” Max greeted. “Looky who I ran inta!”
“Ho ho, Candlelite!” Vohrmint roared. “How’ve ya been?” As the intoxicated pair reached the table the big man disengaged from the scientist and approached Absinthe. Taking her hand he bowed with a flourish and greeted, “And you m’lady, how’vw you been farin’ married ta this rascal?” and then he lightly kissed her hand.
Absinthe beamed at him and blushed slightly. “The only rascal I see here Vohrmint, is you.” And her sweet laughter tinkled across the room.
“Ah ‘tis true m’lady,” he agreed. “‘Tis too true.”
“I take it the two of you got word from Farewethor then?” Candlelite asked as he got up and shook Vohrmints hand.
In answer to the young king’s question the big mercenary exchanged a puzzled look with the little scientist.
“We’ve got n’ sush thing,” Max slurred.
“Aye, Max speaks the truth,” Vohrmint slapped the scientist on the back knocking his glasses forward on his nose. “I ran inta him atta little pub I’m fond of earlier in the afternoon. I suggested we come ta visit the two of ya and he agreed.”
“Earlier in the afternoon?” Absinthe chortled.
“Well we may’ve made a few pit stops on the way,” Max confided with a conspiratorial elbow to her ribs.
“Quite a few if the smell of you is any indication,” Candlelite observed.
“Now hold on lad, that’s not fair,” Vohrmint defended. “ Your sniffer is quite a bit more sensitive than most.”
“‘Tis true,” Candlelite said in a fair imitation of his friends voice. “‘Tis too true.”
Absinthe lost herself to laughter at her husband’s mockery and had to take her seat while Candlelite indicated for their two friends to take chairs of their own.
“I guess it’s good that the two of you showed up when you did then,” Candlelite informed them while they helped themselves to the plates of food.
“Oh?” Vohrmint queried. “And I don’t s’pose that has anythin’ to do with what Max has been tellin’ me ‘bout ol’ Neferious?”
“As a matter of fact it does,” Candlelite conceded. He was not in the least bit surprised that Max had already been discussing these things with the war veteran. “I take it he’s filled you in on what Sefu told him and where she is now then?”
“Aye,” Vohrmint confirmed around a mouthful of pork. “And lemme guess, you’re of a mind ta investigate this artifact he was lookin’ for?”
Candlelite smiled wryly, “Yes.”
“I figured you would,” the warrior chewed. “So when are we leavin’?”
Candlelite was also not surprised that his friend had already made up his mind to join them on their journey. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning.” He looked at Max and asked, “And how about you scientist, are you going to come with us?”
Max looked up from where he had been snuffling at his plate and said cheerfully, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world kingy.”
And so that was that, with everything decided Candlelite and Absinthe proceeded to fill the other two on what other few details there were. After the four of them finished their meals they bid each other an early good night with promises of meeting each other early in the morning to rondevue with whatever teleporter Farewethor assigned them before leaving to enlist Mega’N. None of them had any idea of the adventure they were about to embark upon but even if they had not a one of them would have reconsidered their role in it.

Candlelite and Absinthe sat comfortably astride their horses just outside a little used palace side gate. It was well after dawn but still early in the morning. Their city was just coming to life and both were lost in the privacy of their own thoughts when Max and Vohrmint rode up looking none the worse for their debaucheries of the day before.
“Mornin’ Sire,” Vohrmint hailed as he reigned in the big black mare he rode.
“Watch it with the sire’s and majesty’s,” Candlelite hushed him. “We’re trying to leave the city with as little attention to ourselves as possible.”
“Well you better hide this pretty hair of yours then missy,” Max quipped as he reached out to tug on a stray strand of Absinthe’s fiery tresses.
“Knock it off Max!” Absinthe brushed aside his hand and tucked her hair back under her hood from where it had escaped. She knew as well as he did that she had become known throughout the kingdom for her luxurious locks.
“Where’s Farewether?” Vohrmint growled and watched the plume of condensation puff from his mouth. The morning was decidedly chilly for a season just getting on towards late summer.
No sooner had Vohrmint voiced his question than the gate opened and out stepped the witch Farewethor leading on a horse a man that looked familiar but who Candlelite could not quite place.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” the witch apologized and then sleepily, “I slept in.”
“No need to apologize,” Absinthe reassured the embarrassed witch. “It happens to everyone once in a while.”
“All the same…,” Farewethor trailed off. “Anyway gentlemen, lady, here is your teleporter, the mage Pwami. It seems that your destination is deep in the heart of Chinasia, in the Himyli Mountains. This is the region that Pwami grew up in so he will also double as your guide.”
“Pwami!” Candlelite exclaimed. “I knew you looked familiar! You were the teleporter that transported Jeshux’ mercenaries into the battle where King Zakeriah fell against Harmony.”
A short old man of an oriental cast and kind features Pwami smiled and said, “Among many who made the effort. Zakeriah was a good man, a good king. I wish more could’ve been done to save him.”
“As do we all,” Farewethor commiserated. “But it was not in the cards.” She walked to stand beside Absinthe’s gelding and handed her a hand written card. “Here are directions and the address for where Mega’N has been staying. Please tell her that I said hello.”
“I will,” Absinthe promised her and took the card, tucking it into a pocket of her clothes. “Thank you Farewethor.”
“Yes, thanks again Farewethor,” Candlelite said as well.
“Like I said yesterday, it is what I’m here for,” Farewethor laughed. Then she said, “Now all of you be careful out there and return safely.”
“We’ll do our best witchy,” Max told her and the others all nodded in assent.
Farewethor nodded as well before she walked back through the palace gate and shut it behind her.
“Well enough of this sitting around,” Vohrmint said as he spun his mare around. “Let’s get a move on.” And he put his heels to his horse’s flanks sending her off at a trot down the cobbled streets of Dirsellia.
Candlelite looked at his other companions before he too put his heels to his horse and headed down the street after his friend. Max chuckled and led the rest of their party after them.
The five of them rode out of the city’s southern gate together. Candlelite nodded at the gatekeeper and the two guards on duty as they saluted him. Absinthe smiled prettily which caused the younger of them to blush a deep crimson almost as red as her hidden hair.
Once they were all outside the city Candlelite halted his horse and sent out a short mental command, then he sat back in his saddle to wait.
“What are we doing?” Vohrmint asked Max in a whisper, or at least as close to one as his deep voice would allow.
Max did not answer but squinted through the thick lenses of his glasses and stretched out one spindly arm to point off into the distance.
Vohrmint raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and gazed toward where the other man indicated. At first he could not see anything but he did not have to wait long. A long low howl pierced the still morning air and silenced the birds that had been chirping. Candlelite answered with one of his own, identical except for subtle differences that only he or Absinthe could detect.
“It always creeps me out when he does that,” Max muttered under his breath.
Six werewolves came to a sudden stop just outside the perimeter of their horses and dropped obediently to their haunches. They were Ozzie, Harriet and the four pups from their first litter, Keough, Ice, Sinister, and Ruff the runt. Candlelite jumped from his horse and Absinthe was swift to follow him. These animals held a special place in both of their hearts and they both rushed over to hug them, enduring the joyful scrapings of their long, rough tongues.
“Alright enough already,” Candlelite playfully pushed aside the monstrous creatures and stood up to face the others. “Now we’re ready to go to Mega’N’s.”
The king and queen remounted and the eclectic party of people, horses, and werewolves took off around the blasted plains that surrounded the city of Dirsellia.
In the year that followed since the demise of Harmony shrubs, bushes, and other sparse vegetation had slowly reclaimed the home that had been abruptly and devastatingly ripped from them by the detonation of the dark lord’s arcane energy bomb. This innocent looking device, no larger than a soccer ball, was invented by Harmony to contain, compound, and release his magical energy in such a way as to destroy everything within a five hundred mile radius. Detonated in an attempt to destroy the city of Dirsellia, the palace, and it’s inhabitants which included the then High King and Queen Zakeriah and Mega’N, it had only succeeded in annihilating the surrounding countryside. This was largely in part due to the heroic efforts of many mages and technicians who erected an invisible force field around the palace and most of the city. One heroine in particular contributed the majority of the magic and expertise into the project was a woman named Pentooli Adamschild, a good friend of McAriicoys who lost her life in the undertaking and at the mercenaries request Candlelite, as one of his first acts as the newly appointed High King of AnEerth, declared her a national hero and had a statue erected in her honor. It was now a national monument that hundreds of thousands of people had flocked to visit and pay homage to by laying wreaths and flowers on and around as a way of saying thanks for her ultimate sacrifice.
So these blasted plains were slowly but surely becoming the lush grasslands that they had once been. Even trees had begun to grow again and just the month before Candlelite had signed an order for druids and wizards to go about the countryside and nurture all those little saplings making sure that they had more than a fighting chance at health and maturity. It was out here amongst the wonderful tenacity of nature that Mega’N had chosen to retire.
According to the directions given Absinthe by Farewethor the former queen’s residence was more than a half of a day’s ride south east of Dirsellia. Although they had the talents of the mage Pwami at their disposal it was unwise to teleport with the horses as the experience had been known to cause dementia and violence in the animals. Science and magic had yet to explain these effects. There were of course ways around this dilemma such as picketing the horses and teleporting there but it was a beautiful summer day and after months of being cooped up in the palace dealing with the tedious affairs of politics and economics Candlelite had no problem spending the day in a saddle marveling at the steadfast progress of a recovering landscape. Apparently neither did his companions for they spent the morning and most of the afternoon talking comfortably amongst themselves, reminiscing about past adventures and lost friends. At one point Vohrmint went into great detail filling them all in on his whereabouts of the last year and Max almost fell out of his saddle when he recounted an incident with a one eyed working girl of bad temper in one of the coastal cities to the east.
“Vohrmint!” As the only woman in the group Absinthe chastised him and shot him an indignant glare that along with his name was more than enough to cut his storytelling short.
It was early evening and the sun was finally losing some of it’s heat when Candlelite spotted the little cabin off in the distance. It was a small, humble structure obviously built to house one person. It was completely surrounded by a variety of deciduous and evergreen trees that had to have been grown with magic to have grown to the height they were in such a short time. A light breeze blew softly, rustling branches with th whispering of leaves and fir and pine boughs. Absinthe had spotted the trees even before he had and had pulled her horse next to his. “That must be it,” he told her when the cabin came into view.
“I’m going to ride ahead,” she told him and without waiting for a response she spurred her horse into a run.
While Candlelite led rest of his companions into the clearing the young queen had already dismounted, tethered her horse and was exchanging pleasantries with the old queen.
“Candlelite!” Mega’N called warmly as the young man and his companions dismounted their horses.
Candlelite handed his reigns over to Vohrmint and approached the former queen. Embracing her he said, “Mega’N it’s good to see you. How have you been?”
“Oh you know,” Mega’N said dismissively and changed the subject by greeting the others in turn. “So do you like what I’ve done with the place?” she asked of them all once the formalities were complete.
“I love it!” Absinthe told her enthusiastically. “Everything is so green!”
“I’ve always loved plants and growing things but never had much luck with cultivation or the time to improve it,” Mega’N confided. “Zakeriah always teased that plants were better off without me around.” At mention of the late king her sadness was readily apparent though short lived as she continued, “But here I am and it seems that my thumb is greener than either of us would have thought.”
Absinthe again felt a stab of compassion for the woman’s loss and in her usual compulsive manner she hugged her tightly and said, “I’m sure he would be proud you.”
Mega’N squeezed her young successor with tears in her eyes and whispered hoarsely, “Thank you Absinthe, that means a lot.” Then she pulled away and taking a step back, wiped the tears from her eyes before asking, “So to whom do I owe the honor of this unexpected visit? I have a feeling that this is more than just a social call.”
Candlelite grew serious and his eyes narrowed. “You’re right of course and you can thank Nefarious for our arrival.”
Mega’N looked surprised at the mention of the magician’s name and Candlelite lost no time in filling her in on the last five days.
“Sefu Atarle is on Earth?” Mega’N seemed incredulous at the admission of the assassin’s part in the scenario but of course she accepted the king at his word. “And you want me to leave the comfort of all of this,” she gestured about expansively, “to come on this adventure with you?”
“Farewethor did think that it might do you some good,” Absinthe said honestly.
“Did she?” Mega’N huffed and a spark of her old fire crept into her eyes. “Why that busy bodied little witch.” Then she turned and stormed off towards her cabin yelling as she did, “You just stay there, I’ll be right back!”
Max and Vohrmint exchanged puzzled looks at this sudden tirade and Max asked Vohrmint, “What just happened?” and Vohrmint answered, “I’m not sure.”
Candlelite knew though and asked Absinthe, “She’s coming with us then?”
“Yep,” Absinthe answered looking pleased with her handiwork.
“You are so bad,” Candlelite laughed while Max and Vohrmint looked more confused.
When Mega’N finally emerged from her cabin she had changed out of her summer clothes and was dressed in travel attire. She had a sword strapped to her back, a pistol, on each hip, and she carried a rifle in one hand and a backpack and bedroll in the other.
“Are those beasts of yours tame enough to carry our supplies?” she indicated the werewolves as she approached.
“Yes,” Candlelite answered and with a mental command the six werewolves lumbered over and settled onto their bellies next to the horses.
The six people spent the next fifteen minutes transferring their supplies from the five horses to the six werewolves then a quick slap on their rumps sent the equines running back toward Dirsellia.
As they were traversing the blasted plains earlier in the day Pwami had asked shyly if the King would show him the Lupelire. Candlelite was happy to oblige the old mage and as Pwami handled the amber wolf reverently he revealed that he was something of an amateur authority on the nine artifacts of power. Although she had failed to mention it this was something that Farewethor was aware of and just one more reason why she thought Pwami would be the ideal teleporter for their journey. Therefore, he had said, he had a fair idea as to where the adventurers ought to start their search for the artifact of power. All of his research could not turn up which of the nine artifacts, besides the Luplire had been hidden in his country but there were many myths and legends that strongly hinted to its location. He also revealed that although many would be fortune hunters had never returned from the quest for this artifact the ones who had returned were considered cursed with insanity and madness, raving about demons and monsters. In an entire world of such creatures they must have been truly monstrous indeed.
After the horses had ran out of sight Pwami turned to see five sets of eyes looking at him expectantly. The old mage was excited to be returning to his homeland but still he asked nervously, “Are we ready to leave, my lord?”
Candlelite was sure that if he had heard some of the stories Pwami had he would have reason to be nervous as well but as it was he could barely contain his excitement at finally reaching the official start of this adventure. He answered Pwami with a voice filled with strength and confidence, “Yes, I believe we are.” He looked to the others and received a nod of assent from each of them. Then again to Pwami, “Alright, let’s do this!”
The old man nodded, took a deep breath to steady his nerves and softly said, “Prepare your selves.” The beautiful clearing was suddenly lit with bright blue light and when it subsided the beautiful clearing was empty.


It had been quite a while since Sefu had last experienced the joys of teleportation and she was embarrassed that the orange light faded to reveal her bent over with her hands on her knees while she dry heaved. It only lasted a couple of moments then she was on her feet and noticed that Random was looking at her with a touch of amusement twisting the corners of his mouth slightly.
“Ha ha,” she said sarcastically and the merc broke into a broad grin.
“Been a while huh?” he asked and she said, “Yeah, a little while.”
Sefu looked around and adjusted the shoulder straps of her backpack for a more comfortable fit. Just as Random had said they were in a clearing through which a small brook bubbled and gurgled happily(1-describe Alaska climate for late summer i.e. lighting, daylight hours, etc.)
“Which way do we go?” Sefu asked.
“We have to follow the brook,” Random informed her. “At it’s head it seeps out of the ground. It’s there that the source of the magical disturbance originates.”
She looked at him in surprise and he shrugged, “I took the liberty of scouting ahead a little bit.” Her eyes flashed darkly and he said hurriedly, “I was discreet.”
I bet, she thought. About as discreet as a flash of orange light can be. But all she said aloud was, “Whatever, let’s get a move on.”
She unslung her rifle and butted it to her shoulder before she began to follow the brook upstream. Random followed her lead and did the same. He understood as well as the assassin that you could never be too careful when engaging the unknown and he kept himself alert for anything out of the ordinary.
Sefu found her interest gravitating towards the brook more and more as they followed it. She could not quite place it but there was something about it that did not seem right. At first she tried to tell herself that she was just being paranoid but as miles of the rough terrain passed beneath her feet her instincts kept telling herself otherwise and she found it harder and harder to pull her eyes from the narrow, swift flowing bed of shallow water.
“You feel it too?” Random finally broke the silence of their heavy breathing and crunching footfalls with his question.
Sefu stopped and scrutinized the brook more closely. “Yeah,” she replied as she let her intuition soak in the subliminal details. The longer she looked the more certain she was and finally it came to her. “This brook isn’t very old!’ she declared.
“What?” Random asked still not getting it.
Sefu looked at him with a patience she rarely felt and explained, “This brook hasn’t been here very long. As fast and as narrow as it is if it had been here for a prolonged period it would have carved itself a deeper bed. Look at it,” she crouched down next to the water and gestured towards it’s edge with one of her hands. “It’s barely carved an ledge here at all. The water’s pretty much flowing over the ground still.”
“Hey you’re right!” Random saw that she was correct in her analysis of the situation and it was exactly this that had triggered his own instincts. “So what does that mean?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” she said and stood up. “C’mon let’s keep going.” She took off upstream again.
Having been born and raised on a world where magic was a way of life both Sefu and Random were possessed of an innate sensitivity to the stuff. It was this sensitivity that warned them both that they were quickly approaching their destination, ground zero.
Sefu raised a closed fist and stopped, then opened it, reclosed her last three fingers, dropped her wrist so that she was pointing forward and proceeded to slowly move again at a slight crouch. Random took note of her hand signals and followed her lead, keeping his rifle trained forward and off to the left of her.
Sefu stopped just shy of breaking out of the treeline and dropping to a full crouch, leaned against a tree and survey the area from down the barrel of her rifle. Random did the same from a tree opposite her.
“Looks clear,” he whispered.
Sefu agreed but there was only one way to be sure. “Cover me,” she whispered back and breaking free of her concealment she moved clear of the treeline.
Random followed Sefu’s every move while he covered her with his rifle. The brook flowed down towards the trees from a small rise about one hundred yards away. Sefu crept up the shallow incline keeping the brook to her left as she did so. When she reached the top she hesitated before turning full circle in contemplation of the surrounding tundra. Satisfied that the area was secure she signaled Random from his place of concealment and turned her attention to the source of the brook.
Random joined her at the top of the mound and what he saw was a hole in the ground approximately four feet across from which the crystal clear spring water of the brook flowed. The walls of the hole were completely smooth and it appeared to be bottomless. It was as if someone or something had bored a tunnel with a giant laser straight to the planets core. “This is definitely not natural,” he commented.
“Definitely,” Sefu agreed. “This has to be the work of magic.”
“What’s the point though?” Random pondered the purpose of creating a spring way out in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.
“I’m not sure,” Sefu was equally stumped. “Let’s split up, canvass the area, and see what else we can find.”
“If anything.”
The assassin ignored the mercenaries pessimism and began a methodical search of the surrounding tundra. Shrugging his shoulders Random headed down the opposite side of the mound and began a search of his own.
Forty-five minutes of intense scrutiny turned up little more than a half a dozen incomplete footprints which honestly could have been anyone’s if not for the fact that they knew they had to belong to Neferious and the spy. Sefu was just about to call it quits when Random called her name from a few hundred yards off.
“What is it?” she responded.
“I’m not sure,” he yelled back. “Maybe you should take a look.”
So she tromped over to where the mercenary stood scowling down at the ground between his feet. “What is it?” she repeated and he pointed at the ground.
Sefu looked at where he was pointing and saw a small, white stone about the size and shape of a bird’s egg. Wondering why Random was wasting time on a rock she knelt down and picked it up only to immediately drop it again. As soon as she had removed it from contact with the soil it had changed from white to translucent and begun to glow with a green spark at its center only to fade and turn white again when it hit the ground.
“See,” Random said excitedly. “That’s what it did when I picked it up. What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Sefu told him but her mind was racing. She reached out and touched the stone again. Nothing happened so she again picked it up. As soon as it left contact with the soil it turned from white to translucent and began to glow with a green spark at its center. She dropped it experimentally and this time she saw that it continued to glow until the very moment that it touched the ground. She picked it up again but this time she stood up with it.
Random had been watching closely and had noticed the pattern. “Pretty neat,” was all he could think to say.
“I think it’s an earthstone,” Sefu told him.
“Really?” Random had heard of these rare stones but had never seen one and he would not have thought to find one on Earth.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think they existed anymore,” Sefu mused thoughtfully.
“On AnEerth maybe,” Random suggested.
“Good point,” she conceded as she tucked the glowing stone into a pouch and secreted it into her backpack. “Keep looking, maybe there’re more.”
They resumed their search but after another three hours of back breaking, eye straining fruitlessness Sefu did call it quits and rejoined Random on the mound. Over the course of the last four hours the both of them had become convinced that the area was thoroughly abandoned and they were completely alone so it was there by the brook that they decided to make camp for the night. They had every intention of heading out after a hot meal and a good night’s sleep, however intent is not always enough and sometimes easily thwarted.


The shift felt from a temporal/spatial displacement has been described in many ways by thousands of different travelers. Some have compared it to canon-balling into a pool and the way the water displaces around you, others have said it felt as if a tremendous pressure was pressing their bodies from all sides. Some have mentioned the feelings one might experience when you float down a gentle stream, some have described this stream as turbulent and others still have said that it was as if they had been swallowed by an immense vastness and then spit out again. General consensus is that travel by this method varies individual to individual in both effect and unpleasantness. Dr. Max Kimbal belonged in the latter category.
“Oh my lord,” Max’s temples throbbed as he wiped a sleeve across his mouth. “I swear it gets worse the more I do that,” he complained and then shivered as he felt the wind.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 26.02.2012

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