End of Chapter 5:

The gears in the machine on the floor begin to pick up speed, and the singing
of the angels rises to an eerie and unnatural crescendo, and I feel life, real
life, begin to surge back into my body. The vein of Shain's thoughts suddenly
blooms into my own memory, and orange lacerations begin tracing across my
torso.

Like a hot sword finally bending under the hammer, I change.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 6: Homecoming, Again

The night is black as coal when I leave the Presidio, and a strange feeling
lingers in the air. Just minutes ago I was asleep in my bed with my lover, and
now here I stand, with another murder and another transformation to my name.
The air is cold against my bare skin, and it invigorates me. "Is it really so
bad?" I ask myself. Being required to kill a person every so often isn't such a
high price to pay to keep my mortality, and to keep the woman who loves me. Now
that I understand the price of my new life, I can even focus on killing the
Wyrded and Tainted of the Basin, and using their blood to maintain myself.
Surely that's not so bad.

I find a trail and begin walking back through the mountains. The night is
colder than I noticed at first, and I feel like a ghost stepping through the
wind as its chill passes through me. But it's nice to not be running for once.
I marvel at the beauty of creation, the stars blinking at me through the sky, as
the moon paints a glowing mosaic of clouds and light through the night. I wonder
what's beyond those stars, beyond the furthest reaches of the moon's light, when
there is nothing but the darkness of space to wrap yourself in. An eerie feeling
passes through me and I feel like I may understand the answer soon. I run my
fingertips through the air, reaching for the strand of aether back to the
forest. The coldness has suddenly become uncomfortable. Whipping back through
the aether waves I maintain my composure this time, and soon find myself
stepping into the forest through a gateway of buzzing motes of light. I'm
actually proud of myself for not landing face first into the leaves.

On my way back to the manse, I find the commodities that the elfen woman
dropped in her fear of me, and suddenly I can't breathe so well. I pick up a
vegetable she was carrying, and tears leap into my eyes. She was just shopping.
Probably bringing home a snack for her children, and they're wondering where she
is. The night has lost all of its beauty to me. I clean up the mess I've made,
putting all of her food back into her basket, and nestling it into a bed of
leaves on the commune floor.

Gliding through the aether back to my manse, I wish I could just remain here
forever. Let the colors take me away to a peaceful place. But then I would
never see the woman again. I would never see the forest again, or the night. I
would never get to wonder what the stars mean.

Back in my room, I find a new set of clothes to wear, and I hope the woman will
not notice. sliding back under the covers, I put one arm around her stomach and
pull her into my chest. I put my lips right above her ear, and whisper, "You
know I love you, right?"

She just smiles without opening her eyes, and puts her hand on mine, "Of
course. Especially now that you're warm again."

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 7: Revealed

Months go by, the seasons change, and my life is good. Having joined the
Serenwilde Elite Guard, I have no shortage of corpses to fuel my life. Each
time I change I burn for an eternity, and each time I am reborn from the
flames, newer, better, stronger. My skin has lost the purple tint of the
Viscanti, and the horns are finally gone. My name is Shain, and I am an Elfen
of the Hartstone druids. Each night I lay with the woman I love, and she loves
me back.

It is late in the month of Juliary, and the Serenwilde forest has bloomed into
something orange and radiant, as though it seeks to defy the burning of Father
Sun. I've just returned from a hunting trip with several of the guild's
novices, and I bring them before the White Hart. Red leaves cascade down around
us like crimson rain, and I tell them what it means to be a druid of the
Hartstone, "Today you have hunted, and you know how the predator chases its
prey. The White Hart also knows the glory of the hunt, though it also knows
that you should never mock your prey. You should never torture it before it
dies, or have it feel unnecessary pain. It is a law of nature that the strong
should hunt the week, but it is the responsibility of the strong to be
righteous in the hunt." As I say these words I reflect on my hypocrisy. I
wonder if the White Hart would condone my use of my prey's corpse. The White
Hart also teaches that the ends justify the means, and surely I am doing more
good than harm, by hunting the Wyrden?

I look around at my Dedicants, and smile warmly. I love them all, and each one
looks up to me in return. Their eyes are wide with understanding as they kneel
before the White Hart, and offer up their sickles. "Now go, and offer your
kills to Charune, the divine Huntsman, and reflect on what you have learned
today." They scurry off through the undergrowth, flowing through the forest to
the Moonhart Mothertree. On my way out of the White Hart's grove, I hear
whispers through the trees. I hear my name. Calling down a vine to hold me, I
rise up into the branches of the commune and begin working my way towards the
voices. Through a break in the leaves I can see a the Seneshal of Serenwilde,
dressed in formal greatrobes adorned with sparkling emerald leaves, talking to
someone I can't make out, "We received a letter today from the Geomancers of
the Megalith."

"What was written?" I immediately recognize the voice of Ilyana Merlain, Warden
of the Moonhart and Marshall of the Serenwilde Elite Guard.

"It's rather difficult for me to say. Apparently, one of the professors of
their tainted college has been missing for many months. He disappeared while
off working on some unnatural experiment, but they won't tell us what he was
trying to do, or create. But they finally found his body, half decayed from the
heat of this past summer, in a hidden corridor in the Presidio of the Damned.
Apparently he has been there for many months."

My blood has turned to ice.

"Why do we care?"

"Well...you see...they found more bodies. A lot of bodies."

"What was the vile creature doing with them all?"

"No, some of the bodies are very recent. All either Magnagoran or Glomdorian,
except for two. An Elfen woman, and an Elfen man. Their bodies were barely
recognizable, but they knew the man as Archdruid Shain Shamtuul, Keeper of the
Sacred Grove."

"Heh. They are mistaken. I have been fighting alongside the Keeper for many a
month now. He is a good man, and a strong warrior. And not dead."

"I thought the same thing, but since receiving this letter, I have gone to see
the body. It is Shain Shamtuul as surely as Father Sun is fire."

I don't wait to hear anymore, I have to run. I have to get away from this
forest and everything in it. I have to get away from the Basin, somehow. I know
Ilyana, and I know she will hunt me until I am either dead, or she is. I also
know that I cannot defeat her. When enemies see her take the field of battle,
they all tremble. I have trembled myself, wondering what it would be like to be
on the side facing her. Her full plate is vicious and primal, bits of gleaming
emerald metal forged in with stag bone, and colossal horns from the bulls of
the Astral Plane mounted in various locations along the armor. On more than one
occasion I had seen her running wild through a battle, goring enemies with her
elbow spikes, removing limbs with two spider-hilted scimitars, and all the
while her long, red hair blazing behind her like a comet.

Before fleeing the forest entirely I stop at the Serenwilde Portals, and leap
through the aether to my manse. My wife and my lover is there waiting for me.
Her flawless face opens into a wicked grin as she throws her arms around me and
pulls herself up into my arms, planting a kiss on my forehead. "You seem to be
in a hurry to get back to me!" She says, winking.

I just shake my head, and she notices I am about to cry. "What is it? What's
wrong?" The concern in her voice, the true love that I hear, validates what I
am about to say, because I know she would never betray me.

"You know I love you, right? Something has happened, and I have to run. I have
to run as fast my legs, and the forest, will carry me. The White Hart is the
king of runners, and today he must be with me. I cannot tell you everything,
just know that I will return for you. I will come back for you and take you
with me, and we can be together somewhere they won't bother us. Maybe beyond
the stars, I've always wanted to go there, where the light of the moon doesn't
reach."

She just stares at me and says, "What are you talking about? That was very
confusing and cheesy."

I kiss her, for all that it's worth, I kiss her, and say "You know I love you,
right?"

"Of course."

I quickly lay her down, and step back through the portal.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 8: The Wicked Don't Sleep

The next few days are chaos. Everyone in the Basin is hunting me at every turn,
and I haven't slept since the chase began. All I wanted was to live! To live and
to love the beautiful woman, why can't they let me have that? I managed to kill
a follower of Crow to pay the upkeep, but taking it to the Gears nearly got me
killed. It was as though every soldier in the Basin were waiting on me, crammed
into that narrow cave. They must have known I would try something. I didn't even
get to use the body I had. What a waste. It was a youngling, too. The White Hart
would not have approved of my slaying it. I suppose that all the corpses I gave
the Gears from Serenwilde's raids have added up, because I've lasted longer
than I ever have without beginning to change back.

In my sleep deprived madness I am formulating a plan. I need to be able to go
back into the Serenwilde forest, find my lover, and get us out again safely.
Once I find her, things should go easier, as I will have her helping me escape.
I plan everything down to the last detail. I will need to find some armor and a
weapon, to do combat with Ilyana should she find us. Once I get to my love,
though, we can escape on one of the Serenwilde's aetherships. I never quite
understood how to operate one, but she is a fine pilot. We can flee into the
wild abyss of aetherspace, and go somewhere even beyond the stars.

Days go by, and I still haven't slept, and I just want this nightmare to end. I
can feel the change welling up in my gut, and I know I don't have long before I
am elfen no more. But I know that the woman I love won't care what I look like.
Once we make our escape, everything will be fine. Sometimes I wonder if anyone
is still chasing me, I seem to see them at every turn I make, or maybe they're
only shadows. Whatever they are, I keep running. At some point in my madness,
I wonder into the darkness of the Glomdoring forest. I feel at home among the
trees, even though they are dark and twisted versions of the ones I am used to.
I keep moving, climbing through the branches, until I find myself in a corridor
of sorts. I can sense something alive in here.

I stumble down the hallway until I find a room with a lone bed inside. Laying
beneath the sheets is a human, his muscled chest rising and falling slowly in
the throes of sleep, and I envy him. I clutch my cudgel in both of my shaky
hands, holding it high over my head, and I move closer. With every ounce of
silence the White Hart has taught to me, I move closer. In a blur of speed that
I never knew I possessed, I bring the broad end of my cudgel down onto his face,
crushing his skull as a laser of blood shoots onto my cheek. He's dead.

In the corner of the room I find a mannequin, wearing armor similar to
Ilyana's, except this is forged from ebony, with golden inlay outlining the
joints. Hanging on a weapon rack above the armor are two broadswords, each one
engraved from hilt to tip with a Vernal Knight rune, Vernal Champion rune,
Great Rune of Bleeding, and an Arcane Soldier rune.

I pull the armor off of the mannequin and strap myself into it, piece by piece,
and then take the swords down from their place. "I can win with these," I
whisper under by breath, "I think it's time I head back home."

I search through the air for the Moonhart Mothertree's strand of aether for the
last time, and pull myself through it, spinning back to the forest, and back to
my love. A second later I am stepping out of the great tree in a shower of
light. I sniff at the air, and am thrilled when I catch the scent of my lover.
I race through the forest towards her, transforming into the Stag as I do,
antlers sprouting from my head as my feet become cloven, and I move even
faster. The White Hart is the king of runners. I erupt into the clearing where
she is, and thank the gods that she is alone. "My love!" I scream to her, the
words barely audible, as I haven't spoken in so long. She whips her head
around, and I know she recognizes me, for her face lights up with happiness.
But only for a second, before her eyes grow wide with fear and tries to
scramble backwards away from me.

"No! I have come back for you, like I said I would!" I reach an arm out for her
as I take another step forward, beckoning her to my side.

"You are not him." She says back, her lip trembling, and I don't think it's
from the winter's chill. Her words pierce my heart like a willing blade, and I
have no idea what to say.

"You said you loved me. I asked you and you said so. You said it like you meant
it." I will not give up. I will not let every night I spent holding her be for
nothing, I will not let every kiss and every laugh, every memory I have be for
nothing. "I was counting on you to save me. We need to run." I think I'm
begging now, because it is my lip that trembles, and I do not think it's from
the winter's chill.

She doesn't answer this time. She just shakes her said in a silent "no". She
doesn't do anything but shake her head and move away from me. Finally she says,
"What are you?"

"I am Archdruid Shain Shamtuul, Keeper of the Sacred Grove, and a follower of
the White Hart. I am your husband, and I'm begging you to save me."

She starts crying after the fourth word, and by the time I'm finished talking
she's screaming. Suddenly I hear branches snapping to my east, and when I look
I see a flash of emerald and a flash of red just before Ilyana steps into the
clearing from the undergrowth, her eyes blazing in righteous fury, a scimitar
in each hand. I turn my back to my lover to face her, drawing my broadswords
from their ebony sheathes as I do. "You will not take me," I whisper, "Or her,"
I gesture to my love.

Ilyana stares at me, her crimson hair blowing in the wind, her pale skin a
stark contrast to the black woods behind her, and suddenly it begins to snow.
Large, soft flakes that spiral through the air like dancers. She stares at me
from behind cold eyes and says, "This forest will take you."

Now the trees are alive with movement, as my old friends emerge onto the
branches. The Dedicants I used to teach are clutching their sickles, their eyes
filled with quickly freezing tears, and each one is swinging a vine in their
hand, ready to ensnare me. A trio of Spiritsingers have gathered on a
particularly long branch, impossibly balanced with their instruments in hand,
they begin to sing to the snow, "The wind is in the willows, and the wicked
don't sleep...the wicked don't sleep."

Every guild has shown up to witness my execution. Moondancer's with their Fae
circled around them, nodding at me with solemn heads. The Shofangi are gathered
behind Ilyana, shofas gleaming in the snowlight. Centaurs are barely visible
behind the timberline, each one with an arrow drawn and aimed right for my
heart.

Pretending to run, I break for the trees, and suddenly the air is alive with
arrows and vines. Swinging my blades in a whirlwind I dice the vines as they
reach me, but an arrow takes me in the shoulder. I ignore the pain, but I can't
ignore that instead of blood, bits of soil run down my arm. As I reach the
trees, a centaur steps out, slashing at me with a barbed arrow. I block the
wooden shaft with my left sword, and slam the right into his side, slicing
through his body entirely and severing the man from the beast.

I turn just in time to see Ilyana diving at me, both swords held over her head
in preparation for a fatal strike. I hold my own swords up in response, and we
are locked in a sword grapple. She is easily stronger than me, and begins
pressing the backs of my blades against my face, and strips of flesh open up as
more dirt runs down my face, and when my swords should be sinking into my cheek
bones, I instead hear them grinding against rock. With a snarl and an explosion
of strength, I push my swords forward, sending Ilyana shuffling back, struggling
to maintain her footing.

I look down at my hands and I see they are more earth than skin now, my fingers
quickly elongating into daggers of stone. I charge at Ilyana, my strength is
quickly exceeding her own, and I hammer each sword into her's, jarring her
hands as she struggles to maintain her grip.

My fingers are so rigid now that I can barely hold my swords, so I fling them
at her like daggers, but she easily dodges. Everyone in the clearing is
watching us with an eerie sense of awe. Or maybe their just looking at me in
horror. I can't even bring myself to meet my lover's eyes. Ilyana charges me
again, and this time I block her swords with my hands, sparks flying as her
blades grind against my dagger-like fingers.

I draw back one hand, preparing to run it through her chest, and she takes my
momentary lack of balance to roll under my arm and stab one of her blades
through my knee, pinning it to the ground behind. I scream in pain, my face a
horrifying mix of elfen and earth-beast, with elongated teeth dripping with red
and purple saliva. I grip the hilt of the sword impaling me with both hands and
try to pull it free, but she has wedged it between my own knee joints, and I
can't pull it out. Instead I lean forward to try and use my body weight to rip
it from the ground, but then I feel a second sword penetrate my other knee from
behind, pinning it to the ground in front of me. I am trapped.

I look about the clearing frantically, and I see the beautiful woman sitting on
the ground, her knees pulled up to her chest and hot tears streaming down her
face, steaming in the coldness, and it snows even harder. I reach both arms out
toward her as far as I can, and I call out into the night, and into the snow,
and into the stars. My tongue is barely capable of speech, but I cry out
anyway, "Help me! My love! I need you, help me! Please, help me!"

From the corner of my eye I see that Ilyana has picked up one of my
broadswords, and is walking slowly towards me. I find it odd that she is also
crying. I cast one more look around the glearing, and see the Moondancers
dancing slowly through the snow, and I recognize it as their dance of mourning.
My Dedicants are humming an eerie melody, and swinging their sickles in slow
arcs, and the Spiritsingers just continue to sing, their voices deep with
sorrow, "The wind is in the willows, and the wicked don't sleep...The wicked
don't sleep."

My love makes no move towards me, but I can read her lips through the snow as
she whispers, and I drop my head in understanding. A second later I feel a
pinch of cold steel on my neck, and then nothing.

"The wind is in the willows, and the wicked don't sleep...The wicked don't
sleep."