All was darkness and rushing water, and the chirping of bugs. Eyelids
fluttering, he stirred briefly, uncertainly, a low, animal whimper coming from
his throat. Somewhere, beyond the edge of his fuzzy perception, something was
moving through the woods with a crashing of branches and clattering of metal.
Then there was a halting, and the faint sensation of cool fingers on his
forehead. They burned, almost a brand against his skin.

"Erion, look."

A pause, then brash laughter. "A human lad! What's he doing here in the
bushes?"

More of the cold hands. Too cold. He shivered, trying to jerk his head away. It
was a feeble attempt, and pain swirled within his head. With a grunt, he lay
still.

"He's hurt. Look here and here - bruises." A hand at the side of his head
brushed across something - the pain reached a peak, and he jerked, crying out.
Something was important, terribly important. Dried lips parted, and he reached
for consciousness, a face rising from the depths of his mind He had to... had
to...

"Maeria..."

The voices faded into a dull roar, and then, echoing altogether too loudly, the
brash, heedless voice: "Leave him in the bushes! We don't have time for this,
the Serenguard..."

"The Serenguard is altogether too busy with cleaning up Faethorn, Erion." the
kind voice reproved, and the cool hands were at his temples. "He might be
useful. Perhaps..."

The blackness was echoing again. Shivering, he turned a cheek against a cool
hand, seeking the numbness, the comforting cold of the kind voice. He didn't
like the other, the loud... There was a clattering of metal beside him, and he
stiffened as metal touched his skin. A shudder of revulsion shook its way
through his frame - something hot, sticky, and smelling of iron and honey
smeared across his cheek. The scent, the scent was...

"M... Mae..."

"He's useless. Pah!" The hands shook his head and he retched, barely able to
remain out of the yawning abyss of his mind. Somewhere, dimly...

"Cel... Celes... Maeri-a..."

"A Seren lad?"

"Leave him here, Larise. He'll give us away as surely as another one of these
bedamned pixies."

"If we leave him here, he'll die of exposure! Raziela's eyeteeth, Erion, I..."

"Then make a choice, Larise. You do realize he'll have to be..."

The smell of honey and blood was nauseating, sickening. The cold hands were
gone now, and he was being lifted, none-too-gently. His head swirled painfully
as it was wrenched from side to side, his brains seeming to rattle in his skull
as the metal-clad arms lifted him up like so many sacks of grain. He retched
helplessly, the blackness eating at his mind as he was slung alarmingly over
more of the hard metal. A disgusted exclamation sounded, and then his head
struck metal - all dark.

* * *

"Maeria! Maaaeeria, wait!"

Butterflies flitted through the air, chasing one another in rainbow spirals
across the grass. Somewhere, he was running across a verdant field, laughing as
the elfen girl danced gleefully away, fleetfooted beside his stumblings.

"I have to go home! They'll miss me!" Laughter, sweet as bells, echoed back
across the flowers to him, scattering the butterflies hither and yon. "You know
Mother will kill me if she finds me!"

"Maeria, Maeria, stay with me! We almost have a full jar of the blue ones for
Father!"

Somewhere above him, somebody was mumbling, somewhere above, where it hurt,
where there was fear and pain. A cool hand was on his forehead, chasing away
the pain, leaving blessed numbness and a yawning, beckoning blackness. But
where was Maeria?

She was racing into the woods now, far away on dark paths. Cold wind brushed
over his skin, the girl's laugh morphing from a girl's giggling to a woman's
melodious laugh, echoing back through silver branches.

"Catch me, find me..."

"Wait for me!"

"I'm waiting..."

There was a voice, cold and lofty, somewhere in the forest. "He's fighting me.
Japhiel preserve us from this dreck." He halted, in the middle of the path,
puzzled as the branches swayed, creaking like skeletons. Emerald leaves drifted
downwards, swirling into brown, decaying leaves. Somewhere, the woman's voice
echoed, "Chase me, find
me..."

"Maeria!" He jerked suddenly - a hand was wrapped about his heart, squeezing.
"Maeria, help me!"

"This is an abomination! This is..."

The leaves were swirling in his eyes. "Let me go! Maeria's waiting for me!"

"Erion will kill him, Alban!"

"Japhiel will judge him too, Larise."

It was cold, so cold. Moaning, he fell to his knees, the forest fading. A trill
of laughter, golden as sunshine, drifted to his ears. "No... wait..." It was
fading, going dark. "Maeria! Wait for me, I'll find you!"

Faintly, then, from the shadows of the swiftly vanishing forest, "Chaaase
me..."

"And so we commit our brother to the waters..."

There was a hideous snapping noise, and then nothing.

* * *

The light fell across his face, golden, like a reprieve from the nightmarish
darkness. Licking his lips, the boy stirred. Something smelled like roses
and... breakfast?

"Here now, easy." A cool, comforting hand rested across his forehead and he
sighed, faint chanting somewhere above him. Smiling drowsily, he opened his
eyes. Slitted red pupils greeted him.

"Back with the living then, Lorin?" The speaker leaned back, smiling, creasing
her slick face with faint wrinkles. "You had us worried, you know. You've been
quite sick."

Lazily, he stretched, finding his muscles paradoxically free of pain. "I...
yes. I was sick?"

The eyes flickered briefly, then a frown of concern on her features. "Oh yes.
You don't remember?"

"I... no." He lifted a hand, rubbing at his eyes. The room was a wash of blue,
tiles and pale wood beams, silver gleaming in a bright light from beyond a
vaulted window above the bed. "You... called me Lorin?" Stirring, he lifted
himself up, gasping at the effort. Now it hurt, a stabbing behind the eyes -
and the uncertainty, the unreality. "It's like a dream... there was a girl,
and..."

"A girl!" She laughed, lightly. "Now Lorin, there's been no girl - you've been
quite devoted to your duties, as well you ought. You've had a terrible fever, I
suppose you wouldn't remember a thing at all."

Something was wrong, terribly wrong, cold down his spine, like the hand on his
forehead. Fighting with the blankets, fighting the blackness, he pushed himself
upright, gazing rapt out of the window.

Beneath him, spreading out, gleaming in the light of the sun, glittering at the
water's edge and stretching endlessly to the east - marble and shining magic,
blue and white against the skyscape. A city? Maeria would have... Mae... He
frowned, seeking her image. Golden hair? Black hair? A field? He couldn't reach
it, couldn't...

A scream was fighting its way up in his throat, bubbling out even as she
pressed him with steely hands down to the mattress, her eyes boring in on his
as he writhed. "No, no! Maeria! MAERIA! What have you done to me!"

"Pin him down! PIN HIM DOWN!"

"Alban, help me, he's convulsing!"

There was a split-second of pain, and then nothing. Blissfully, he fell once
more into the dark.