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From its lofty perch amidst an azure sky unstained by clouds, the sun stared down on the harsh climes of a land known as Telsuo. It was strange, perhaps even ironic, to think that the same sun which had baked the southern portions of Telsuo into their currently arid state was the same sun that the farmers in the northern lands praised for its life giving caresses to their crops. The same sun that lovers welcomed in the early morning, entwined in each others arms, and the same sun the wolf howled at as it set, awaiting the beginning of the night. That same sun seemed to be both baleful and kind to those under it. And for its part, the sun cared not who it shone upon.

To Ammon Te-Leyr, however, the sun was both. Without a doubt, Ammon would have loved for the sun to have descended to its roost beyond the horizon, for that would have allowed the sand beneath his bare feet to cool, but at the same time, it was his sole means of navigating in a world of eternally shifting sand. Hills and dunes melted away with the wind only to rise again elsewhere, and without the sun, Ammon would have been hopelessly lost.

As it was, however, Ammon was not lost, nor was he unhappy to be in such a hot environment. Indeed, Ammon was so full of glee, he was convinced his heart would burst in his chest from sheer excitement.

A member of the desert dwelling Ut-Cren Tribe, Ammon was a scout, often roaming the desert for days and sometimes weeks at a time to find whatever could be scavenged to help the Ut-Cren Tribe eke out their simple, but happy existence. Today, he had arrived further south than he usually did, hoping to find a stray wildebeest or other perhaps some travelers that had gotten lost in the desert. Pickings had been rather slim this season for the Ut-Cren, so the scouts had been forced to venture further and further in their scavenging trips.

What Ammon had discovered, however, was much more exciting than even a herd of cattle or a caravan.

It was some sort of building.

A stone structure, obviously of very old construct, had been placed in the desert set upon a hill, eroded and gnawed on by the wind's teeth. It had once had prominent lines and angles, but years had dulled all the corners to the point of being rounded. It was difficult to judge the size of the building from the distance, but he estimated that the building was rather large. Indeed, it seemed as though it was composed of multiple floors.

Ammon's good mood was slightly dampened by the realization of how odd this was. Granted, it was atypical for his people to wander this far into the desert, but that didn't mean scouts had never been this far south before. How could they have missed a building of that size sitting elevated on a hill?

Ammon pondered the question as he began climbing the steep hill that would take him to the building. Perhaps it had been covered with sand at the time... He thought to himself, although the explanation was still unsatisfactory.

However, Ammon decided quickly he didn't need an answer to this particular question. His good mood was buoyed by the prospect of exploring a new place, something of which he was particularly fond, and the possibility of gaining something to take back to the tribe.

The time passed quickly. Each step brought him up closer to the building, which seemed to grow larger and larger by the moment. By the time he reached the first stone step, thoroughly covered in sand, the building seemed ominously out of place and forbidding. Ammon was not put off; he was no coward, and even if he were, his curiosity outweighed any fear he had.

Massive metal doors of bronze were hung at the entrance way. They looked as though they had been engraved once, but the sand had long claimed any such details. The workmanship was quite fine, however, and Ammon took a moment to admire the hinges, which were quite complex works of metal indeed.

The doors opened with only the most minimal of effort despite being nearly an arm span taller than he was: another testament to the designers who had balanced the doors with great precision. Cool air blasted out of interior like a wave, instantly chilling him and refreshing him at the same time. With only the faintest of hesitations, Ammon stepped within the comforting shadows of the interior, the spear that had been tied to his back finding its way to his hands.

Several seconds past before his pupils had sufficiently adjusted to the very dim lighting. Only the light through the open door revealed anything about the interior. Both fortunately and disappointingly, there was not much to see inside.

The building was one chamber on the inside, stretching high above Ammon's head and far to either side. In the center of the chamber, was a raised dais on which was laying a corpse.

Ammon approached the still figure with caution, straining to see in the dim light. The corpse was little more than a skeleton, although some bits of long petrified flesh clung to various places of its body, as did tattered clothing. It appeared to be human, stretched out on its back, hands neatly wrapped around a sword which ran lengthwise down its body.

The Doumyysh knew nothing of human burial rites, but it seemed obvious that this person had been posed after death, left in this strange and empty building as a tomb. It was very unusual. Perhaps there had been more things in the building originally, but they had been plundered. But why wouldn't someone have taken the sword?

Ammon looked closely at the weapon, marveling at it. The sword was easily the most wicked looking weapon he had ever seen.

Constructed, evidently, out of the bone of some large animal leg, the weapon was bleached white and carved with a grooved handle that extended up to a jagged blade, serrated with vicious barbs. The weapon must have been old, at least as old of the corpse. yet the bone blade showed no signs of wear and tear or any sort of decay.

For a moment, Ammon was torn with indecision. Such a weapon, at very least, would have been worth a fair amount to one of the many traveling merchants his tribe had dealings with. There was no reason that he shouldn't take the blade.

And yet... Defiling the rest of the dead by plundering the weapon seemed wrong.

Inevitably, Ammon decided that it was the lesser of two evils. He would not go back to his tribe empty handed, and surely the dead man had no need of the weapon anymore. He reached down, taking the sword from skeletal hands which gripped it.

A strange chill ran through his body. There was a sound, like someone speaking in a foreign language, but when he looked, no one was there.

Without warning there was a flash of white light that filled his vision, accompanied by a thunderous boom that dropped him to the ground. The last thing he remembered was a burning sensation in his hand before his head struck the hard ground of cold stone.

***

Ammon had no clear recollection of how he had come to stand in the massive chamber he found himself in, chained to the floor by a set of heavy irons. All he knew was that he was there, standing at the base of an amphitheater like depression while six looming figures glared down at him from behind podiums.

There was light everywhere. It seemed to exude out of the very walls and floors around him, defying every attempt for a shadow to form. Ammon's dark brown eyes looked this way and that, attempting to make sense of the surreal scene before him.

The central figure of the six spoke to Ammon, leaning over his podium as he did so.

"Ammon Te-Leyr, you have been convicted of crimes most grievous. The Most Perfect Council of the Sentinel Order has found you guilty of genocide, inciting wars among nations, and the dissemination of a virulent plague. Have you anything to say for yourself?" The voice was the voice of thunder itself, booming and powerful, filling the entire chamber effortlessly. Ammon had a hard time telling just how big the chamber was that he was in, given that the lack of shadows made depth perception tricky, but the voice seemed to be capable of filling any space no matter how immense.

With great force of will, Ammon looked up at the speaker. Perhaps it was just a trick of being on an elevated platform, but Ammon got the impression that the speaker, indeed all of the white-robed figures, were at least three times his height. One look at the massive hand resting on the podium's edge, clad in a silver gauntlet, was all that Ammon needed to see to realize that this man could crush his body effortlessly.

He couldn't tell what manner of men they were, for their bodies were covered with white robes that shone as with their own inner light. Glowing blue sigils blazed on the robes, making them even more mysterious. Even their faces were covered with silver helmets, complete with a face grill that only had small slits for the eyes, and a mesh through which they spoke.

Shaking his head lightly with confusion, Ammon replied meekly. "I.. I don't understand. Where am I?"

The speaker drew himself up to full height, glaring down at Ammon imperiously. "You stand before the Most Perfect Council of the Sentinel Order. The blade you attempted to take was the cursed blade of Geffeldir the Corrupt. You have touched the blade, and its taint is upon you even now. Had you been allowed to take that blade back to civilization, it would have molded you into its slave. You would have been responsible for the destruction of your own tribe. You would have set in motion events that would have pitted nations against each other in endless war and from the legions of dead would have spread a plague which would have terrorized the world for a thousand years. The eternal Sentinel Order, which watches all and knows all, could not allow this chaos to take hold. We have found no alternative but to remove you from the world and to isolate you from the land of the living. Your sentence will begin immediately."

Those words were last words Ammon, stlll echoing in Ammon's mind as he lost consciousness amid another flash of white light, heard from any throat but his own for a very long time...

***********

The Diary Of Ammon Te-Leyr, Prisoner of the Sentinel Order - Day 10

I have decided to keep some sort of diary of my life, though I must say I do not think I will have much to write about. Still, a place to store my thoughts seems to be my best attempt to keep myself sane. Right now my diary is just scratched into the dirt. Perhaps later I will find a better way of keeping it.

My prison is not much like what I expected it would be like. It is a house set in a grassy field, with a small farm field nearby. The fruits and vegetables growing here are unidentifiable but fairly tastable. I can't complain too much about that.

I do not know what land I am in, but it is no where I recognize. There is no sun in the sky here, yet there is light and shadows. It's as if the sun is always directly behind me and no matter how I turn, it is always behind me. When I say that this the tenth day of my imprisonment, I just mean that I have slept 10 times. There is no night or day here. There is merely light.

It doesn't matter which way I walk or for how long, I always end up back at the small one room farm house, some how. This place must be magical.

I still do not understand why I am here, other than that I was supposed to have done something bad in the future and they put me here to keep me from doing it. I'm not sure what to think about this, but the thought of never seeing my home and family again fills me with pain, as does the thought of never seeing the woman I was betrothed to, Salama. In two years, when she came of age, we would have been married. I wonder what our life would have been like together.

Day 23
While I must say, for a prison cell this place is fairly pleasant, there is an almost eerie quiet about it. The wind never blows, the rain never comes, nothing ever changes. Water comes up silently from a small spring that waters the crops in the field. There is no animals, no birds, no insects.

Sometimes I sing, to fill the silence, but the noise seems almost like an intrusion on this place, as if the silence disapproves of the noise. Sometimes I feel as though I am being watched, but mostly, I just feel alone. I guess I am fortunate that my time as a scout for my tribe left me used to spending weeks on my own.

Day 67
I have found clay in the soil, so using that, I've been able to form crude clay tablets which I am using now for my dairy. Stalks of some of my crops burn pretty well, so between that and some largish rocks I found, I have fashion a kiln to bake the tablets. It is certainly easier than scratching messages in the dirt! I must say, giving me something to focus on has certainly made the days pass easier.

Day 108
I spend a lot of time thinking about those Sentinels and my strange trial with them. That event has replied itself in my head so many times I can't count it any more.

I wonder what it all means. What was this curse they spoke of? And why did they say that its taint was on me? I certainly don't feel any different.

I wish I had answers to my questions.

Day 202
I saw something strange in the sky today. It was a black spot, almost like a bit of night had some how crept into my eternal day. The spot was there for several hours before it disappeared. I'm not sure what it was, but it was the first time I've seen any change in my environment in as long as I've been here. I wonder what it means.

Day 510
I have come to hate this place more with each passing day. The grass, which seemed so pleasant and agreeable to me at first now seems disgusting and repulsive. I cannot stand the food that is here, which I have tried to make more interesting by cooking in different ways. I hate the pathetic house that I live in, despite all my efforts to make it comfortable.

The silence and loneliness is almost unbearable. Yet I continue on. I've taken some comfort in art. Although time consuming, I have found that carving the rocks is a favorable pass time. I'm slowly becoming quite good at it, thanks to countless hours spent on it.

Day 613
I believe my sanity might be slipping away. I spend all day just running, in any and every direction, yet I never seem to make it very far before I am right back where I started. Is it just because I get disorientated because there are no landmarks or a sun to navigate by? Or perhaps it is some sort of magical circle that prevents me from leaving. Either way, I always end up right back here.

When I am trying to sleep, I spend much time thinking about my old tribe, and Salama. She must have experienced her coming of age by now, and is probably wed to another. I don't know how to feel about this. In truth, I have a hard time remembering any of those past events or people... It's like it was all a dream, and this has been my life always, in this same patch of dirt. I don't know what's real and what's a dream any more.

Day 744
I saw another black patch in the sky today! It was much bigger this time, and closer to the horizon. I ran towards it, and I think I saw something on the other side, as if it were a hole. I don't know what I was looking at, but it looked like a darkened city full of strange looking people. I'm almost certain that I was getting closer to it, but it closed before I could get close to it.

What could that mean? Is there really a way out of this place?

I shouted for several hours, hoping someone would hear me, but there was nothing. That's all there ever is.

Day 750
Well. There is really nothing more to say. I can't think of any reason I should continue to live, if this is the only thing my life is going to have for me. I know that I wrote something about seeing that oddity six days ago, but now I can't remember if that was real or just a dream.

It doesn't matter. I can't take this silence any more. This will probably be my last diary entry. Not that it matters, because no one will ever read it. I have never felt such hopelessness and futility in my life. I don't want to end my life, but I don't want to live the rest of my life like this...

There must be some way out of here... There must be... If I cannot find a way out, I will go mad soon, and no one will be around to hear me scream...

********

In another world, it was late September in a city called Seattle. Clouds were smeared cross the sky, threatening to rain on the town for the third time in as many days. But the people of Seattle were used to such rain; it was one of those constants in life.

The sun's lingering rays were casting a kaleidoscopic range of colors against the top the western clouds and sky, as if the very brush strokes of God's paintbrush were visible in the color gradient of that dusk. With each passing moment, the lights faded to deeper and deeper shades of blue as night settled in comfortably over the area, allowing what few stars that had the strength to find their way through the dense maze of clouds.

Nestled in the heart of the Emerald City was the Black Drop, a small coffee shop that had taken up residency in an old brick building. It was in this place that all manner of unusual people would gather for all manner of reasons. Mostly, however, they gathered simply to refill on the staple of Seattle life: coffee.

One such of these unusual people was Josef Rammel, more affectionately known as "Ramsey" to his friends. It was a name given to him in highschool and had followed him for years.

Ramsey was the co-owner of the Black Drop along with his wife Hannah, though she handled much more of the strict business stuff than he did. That was fine with both of them; she could handle the numbers, vendors and other necessities, and Ramsey would see to whatever creative input he felt the shop needed.

This night was not unlike any number of nights that had preceeded it. Around various of the large booths, there were some high school and college aged kids grouped together. Some studying for who knows what, others playing one of the many board games that was stashed around the Black Drop. Most of them were regulars, although there were a few strange faces were scattered here and there.

Josef himself was setting at one of the tables next to the small raised platform that functioned as a stage on Friday nights when live bands would come in to play. With Ramsey was another man, this one also a regular, and they engaged in a heated debate.

Nick, the regular, was looking skeptical; Josef was the one speaking.

"...But stop and think about it a moment." Josef was saying, carrying on their debate as to the nature of magic. "Have you ever stopped to think about music? How is it that two bands can put out songs that will sound almost identical, yet one will be successful, and the other will fail?" Josef's voice was emphatic and held the faint note of a Russian accent. A holdover from his parents, who were Russian immigrants.

His audience raised an eyebrow. "Magic?"

"Trace magic." Ramsey corrected. He liked correcting people, it was one of his faults. "They probably don't even know that their doing it, but they are infusing trace amounts of magic into songs. That's why some music seems to have so much emotional energy behind it. Unconsciously, if one of the musicians was coloring his preformance with magic, it would have a much higher emotional power. I believe this is the same reason why concerts are so popular; the magic is much stronger than it would be in a recording, and the crowd can feel it."

Nick frowned, thinking hard, obviously trying to find a hole to poke in the idea. "Give me an example of a band you think is magical."

Josef held up a hand to forestall further comment on that. "My research is only just beginning on this particular theory, so I'm not ready to start sticking my neck out by postulating who's who in the music world. However, I think I can do you one better, my skeptical friend."

His friend did indeed look skeptical at this. "How so?"

Ramsey leaned in, obviously excited. "I've been hearing of a lot of strange happenings lately, and, according to some old calenders I possess, with the next full more, conditions on earth are going to be such that we're going to see something big happen. I believe it might even lead to the rediscovery of magic."

Nick may have looked at Ramsey with a look that suggested that Ramsey was crazy, but Nic knew Ramsey too well; nothing that came from his mouth surprised him any more.

"Okay, here's my question." Nick spoke slowly, picking up on Ramsey's almost reverent mood. "If magic exists, and there are even some people who are born with the ability to use it, why doesn't anyone know about it?"

Josef just smiled in a manner that could only be described as esoteric. "I have my theories about that, too. That's a whole other discussion, but let's just say that I believe that there are forces greater than us at work."

Nick exhaled, either in frustration or defeat, and glanced at his watch.

"Okay, Ramsey. Okay. If you rediscover magic on the next full moon, I'll believe you. Anyways I have to jet or the missus will have my head."

The two said their good byes and Nick left Ramsey sitting at the table, looking out at the falling rain.

It was just another Thursday night in the Emerald City.

Silence, throughout the woods there was no sound except for the hum of the wind, joined by the beat of the leaves.

Vines hung from each tree, or so it seemed, until the vines started to move and slither across the trees. The leaves on the vines caressing the leaves of the tree, and the tree seemed to move, as if it were laughing from being tickled. The thick forest blocked out most of the sunlight from hitting the forest floor. Even so the vegetation seemed to explode with life even in the darkness.

Nestled comfortably under a tree was a flower, although the stems were colorful the petals of the flower were dull in color.

From within the flower a dozen or so small insect like creatures emerged, creating a buzzing sound. Until the insects grouped together, and eventually formed on being of it's own. The wings of the being were as soft and flexible as the petals on the flower it came from. And the body was one large oval, and in the middle of it was a line horizontally placed. The line split and opened, revealing a large eye in the center of this oval. The eye had no true color, it changed from one color to the next. The one eyed creature created a melodic humming sound as it flew off, and ever time the being flapped its wings something came off of them. More of the insects that the one being was originally made from, and those insects flying off and hiding within another flower.

For a moment after there was silence, then a snap, a twig breaking apart from the tree and falling to the ground. After, silence once more, the wind died down and the forest was still.

Then in an open area a creature shows itself, walking gently along the grass on four legs, the creatures stomach gliding atop the grass. Then a snap once more, and the beast stops, it raises its snout into the air. Sniffing the air, searching for scent trace of the being that caused the twig to snap. The claws on the front feet of the beast dug into the ground, as its fur came to life, pointed in all directions. The normally soft fur stiffened and hardened to the point of rivaling the strength of steel. The beast continued to sniff the air, as its three eyes searched in different directions.

A pair of predatory eyes peaked out from behind the leaves in a grand tree, "Sniff all you want" a voice said as it watched. The eyes closed and there was nothing left behind the leaves except shadow.

The beast turned to a tree and leaves flew from it and fell to the ground. The beast grunted and tug it's toes deeper into the earth.

"Incoming!" a voice shouted from above, as the beast looked up the figure had already landed atop of the creature. The landing was precise, right on the neck, snapping it in two and instantly killing the beast. "Catch of the day" the figure said as it removed itself from atop the large creature.

The wind started to blow again, and as the wind pushed away the leaves, the shadow was pushed away as well. The sunlight revealed the figure to be a young boy, in his late teens, black hair, black pants, white shirt, and shoes. Nothing unusual, except for the bush of feathers that covered the young boys forearms. "a Cryb, a good sized one to, this will last me for a couple of nights" he said as he pulled the creature onto his shoulders.

He walked off for a distance, the forest seemed to go on forever, but that's only how it seemed. The forest soon ended and the scenery dramatically changed from green, to tan, as the terrain changed into a desert. The sand seemed to come from no where, and no sand overlapped the grass of the forest. It was as if an invisible barrier was keeping the sand from entering the forest.

"Zerouche" a voice sounded from behind the voice, he turned to find his partner that he came on the hunt with.

"Where have you been Meiron, I've already finished the job" Zerouche said, he showed the beast that hung dead on his shoulders.

Another boy came from the shadows of the wood, his silver hair seemed to glimmer in the sunlight. His blue shirt was stained in green, as well as his white pants, it was as if he was crawling along the ground.

"Sorry, I forgot to put on my earplugs and I got caught in the humming of the Zenos" Meiron replied. Referring to the one eyed insect that had formed from the flower minutes earlier.

"I'm surprised you managed to come out of the trance" Zerouche replied, "Come on, let's get going, I need a nap". Zerouche and his comrade stepped out from the forest and onto the sand. The sand was more like stone, as it did not shift or part under the weight of the two boys.

After some time Zerouche got tired of holding the beast and switched off with Meiron.

"Zerouche" Meiron suddenly said, stopping in his tracks, "Get the map out, we're reaching Sand Rhine territory".

"So? come on, Sand Rhines are rare now a days, besides how many holes can there b-.." Zerouche was cut off as the ground underneath him caved in. A massive hole engulfed the young boy, leaving Meiron watching his friend fall into the depths of the hole.

---------

"What's that sound?" Zerouche said as he heard an annoying dripping somewhere close, "Water?" he asked as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He held his head as he listened to the sound of dripping water, rhythmically dropping into the small puddle that the continuous drops of water had created. "There shouldn't be water down here" he said with a grunt as he got to his feet.

He was curious as to the source and made his way to the small puddle of water, he noticied something, something shinning within the water. "A rock?" he asked as he looked into the puddle, he also noted some strange carvings in the rock itself. His eyes widened as he thought of what this possibly could be. "The Stone of the Five Moons" he thought as he looked at the rock. He placed his hand into the cool water the grab it, but instead something happened. A bright flash that caused his vision to fail and for him to eventually lose all consciousness.

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

He awoke, his vision still blurry, within a new chamber this place was different, and had a bit of a heavy feel to it. He could fee a presence around him, but he could not see them, his vision was still blurry and anything that he managed to catch in eye sight would swirl. He tried to put a hand over his eyes, but he found he could not. His arms were bound by chains, as well as his legs, "What's going on?" he asked in a faint voice.

'Nations will war' a low voice said from within the darkness around him.

"What?" Zerouche asked as he pulled his head up, he looked around, but barely saw anything. His eyes narrowed and the room started to change color. He saw black around him, but six different heat signatures in front of him. Although he could not make out any details, all he knew was that there were others, beside him, in the room.

'Nations will war' the same voice repeated from the darkness, 'Hysteria, blood shed, genocide, and extinction. This is what you wish to bring upon your own home world, because you have found the stone of legends. The stone was lost for a reason boy, the stone hold many secrets of your world, secrets that your nations will war for. Secrets that millions will die for, secrets your planet will die because of. This is your flaw, your mistake, your crime'.

"Crazy sons of..." he was cut off once more as another flash blinded him, and forced him into an unconscious state once more.

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

Zerouche awoke starring up, towards the sky, on his back, the grass underneath him tickling his ears and the back of his neck. He stared upwards for a time before noticing that, even though light was upon the world, the sun that should be providing the light was no where to be seen.

"Where am I?" he asked aloud as he gripped the grass underneath him, and pulled several blade out from the ground.

She had lost track of time as the days and nights went by. The days grew longer and the nights stretched on forever. It was enough to make one insane but to her, it mattered no more. Her mind was growing used to the concept of the endless forever as she walked on the same path every single day. Maybe it was the routine that kept her awake and thinking or maybe it was the small light of hope that kept her believing that she would be able to leave the time prison one day.

But despite all the thoughts that ran through her mind, it was obvious that the Rinak was becoming more withdrawn. Her loud and fun personality had ebbed away into nothing but a silent and brooding remain of her past. Her once sparkling silver eyes were now dead and lifeless. She had lost all that she had once known and to her, there was nothing to keep a smile on her face. She had lost it all.
....................................................................................................................

"Sira! Sira! Look what I've found!" a squeaking voice shouted in excitement, calling for the one person who would even respond. The little hands could not control itself as the person lay before her, unmoving. Who was it and what was he doing here? Her young mind filled with a thousand and one thoughts a she considered what the man's identity could be.

"What is it Peral? What did you..." the young Rinak's words were cut off as she spotted the person that must have evoked the excitement in the child. "Go now. Go back home," Sira's voice came out rather harshly as she picked the little girl and placed her away from the sleeping man. "Go."

Peral was confused as to why Sira was being that way. She had never before heard that tone of voice and was now scared. Nodding her head, the child ran off in the direction of her home leaving Sira with the man.
.................................................................................................................

Memories of her past returned to haunt her frequently as she pondered upon the 'crime' that she would presumably perform if the Sentinels had not tossed her here. But no matter how many times she went through each of her actions, Sira could never see how SHE would kill someone. She had never been the kind of...

It was a shrill sound that brought her to spin about. Her silver eyes looked about her, trying to spot the direction from which the sound had come from. This was the first time she had heard such a thing in the days that she been here. There is was again and this time, Sira looked up into the skies. It was coming from up there.

Several Days later

It was approaching midnight on the West Coast, and the full moon had risen somewhere above the thick and turbulent cloud cover. The air was warm and moist, bringing the possibility of rain and thunder showers sometime in the near future.

In a spare bedroom in the upper floor apartment above the Blackdrop that Josef and Hannah called home, the two co-owners were sitting around a table that was cluttered with hundreds of books. It was difficult to quantify the books, for they were stacked high and ranged from brand new paperback books to old hardback books that must have been at least sixty years old. The only thing that tied all the books together was their theme: magic.

Most of them Josef had dismissed as useless. Books written pretenders who wanted to know more than they really did, and knew less than they pretended. There were a few scattered books within, however, that Josef felt had at least a little bit of legitimacy, and it was these books that he was currently scouring.

Hannah, rather uncharacteristically, was pacing nervously.

She was a skeptical woman, but not so much as to be considered cynical. Indeed, most people found her supportive and accepting, especially to Josef even though she didn't believe nine tenths of the things he believed. Today, however, she could not shake the feeling of nervousness.

A week ago, when he said that he was going to attempt some sort of magical ritual on the night of the full moon, she had responded as she usually did to such announcements. That is to say, she smiled at him and told him to have a good time.

Maybe it was just the storm working itself up outside, but now she was feeling skittish.

"Josef..." She started, coming to stand behind him with her hands on his shoulders. "Maybe you shouldn't go through with this. I feel... I don't know, but I feel so strange tonight."

Josef jumped out of his seat suddenly, causing Hannah to take a step back in surprise. Josef's eyes were gleaming.

"Don't you see, Hannah? That's the magic... It's strong tonight, made more so by the storm... Or maybe the storm was caused by the magical energies... I don't really know, but if everything I've read is correct, there is just a small membrane that separates this world from other worlds... And that membrane should be stretched even thinner tonight. Even though I don't think I can do magic, I believe I might be able to pierce that membrane, maybe only for a few moments. I've read things that other people have tried, and I honestly think that they've come very close."

He grabbed Hannah's hands in his own. "Now, maybe, I'll be able to do it, just to prove once and for all that there's more to this world than we know."

Hannah's eyes searched Josef's face, fear tinging her expression. She didn't know why she was scared, or what of, yet for some reason, she could not shake her fear. "Josef... I'm scared about this... I don't know why."

Josef smiled in his incorrigible, knowing way. "I do. According to what I've read, Fear is one of the first barriers of the membrane. You grow afraid as the membrane grows weaker. This is to keep people trying to pass through weak points." Josef's smile weakened a little. "I'm afraid, too. But I have to do this. It's important to me. Please, just support me on this."

Their eyes met momentarily, in a way that only a husband and wife in love can experience. Finally she nodded fleetingly. "I will, Josef. I just don't want you to get in over your head."

"Don't worry. I think it will only take a minute." Josef said with obvious relief at having his wife's support. Giving her a quick kiss, he sat back down, opening a large book.

Hannah watched silently as he began reading words in a strange language.

**********
Ammon had been sitting on the roof of his prison/house, staring at... nothing. There was nothing to look at. Just crops, grass, and generic blue sky. That was it.

Day after mind numbing day.

He had no motivation to do anything but sit, thinking about which would be the best way to end his life. There was no easy answer to that question, especially since he didn't want to die. He just didn't want to continue living like this.

The truth was, Ammon was starting to believe that he might already be dead. That actually made a lot of sense, although that thought filled him with dread. If this was his eternity...

He never finished that thought.

Without warning, there was a deafening roaring noise and a black slash appeared on the horizon directly in front of him. The horizontal slash stretched wider and wider, the roaring noise growing with it, with odd streams of color haloing the odd looking rift. Ammon almost thought he could see something on the other side, something like an unfamiliar looking room...

Terror gripped Ammon down to his very soul. The urge to run and hide inside his dwelling was exceedingly strong, yet a deeper part of Ammon realized that this could be it: his one chance to either die or escape. Either way was more preferable to sitting in this land forever.

Jumping to his feet, Ammon released a war cry, running directly at the unknown thing without a thought as to what he should do once got there.

The Doumyysh ran faster than he had ever moved in his life, covering what must have been a hundred meters in a matter of seconds. With a mighty leap, he covered the last bit of ground, flying into the strange vortex of colors.

Time seemed to stop. He was flying in the air, he could see the ground beneath him, yet he seemed almost to not be moving at the same time. As he slowly felt his body sliding through the air almost like water. Yes, that was it: it felt like he was swimming, very slowly.

The roar had disappeared, and there was only silence. For a moment, Ammon was looking at two humans in a cluttered room full of what looked like books and many other strange objects. Quite suddenly, time sped back up.

Ammon crashed into a table full of books, and his momentum carried him through the pile, where he collided with a brick wall, head first, and fell unconscious instantly.

***********

Terrifying?

That would have been one word that Hannah would have chosen. As Josef had finished speaking the words of.. whatever he was reading, there had suddenly been this... Well, portal perhaps. It had looked almost like a cut through the canvas backdrop that had previously been called "reality", allowing them both to see something on the other side.

It was a thousand different places, images, people and things. In the space of a second, they saw miry swamps, towering mountains, dark forests, wild cities, and images that merely defied all forms of descriptions.

Then, there had been chaos.

A loud noise, almost like a massive air flow had sprang into existence. Hannah had remembered screaming. The lights in the room had been dimmed down to nothing, so that the portal was the only light that existed.

At that point, Hannah had lost all nerve, and fled the room, leaving Josef to whatever fate he had unleashed.

******************

"The Most Perfect Council of the Sentinel Order is in session." The Speaker of the Chambers gave his voice first, calling their meeting into being. The six High Councilors stood at their podiums, looking down at the single Sentinel who stood before them.

"Sentinel Maelius, you are called before the Council to explain your actions and the circumstances that surround the events allowing several prisoners to escape confinement." The Speaker said accusingly, glaring down at the Sentinel, who stood proudly, regardless of the severe punishment he potentially faced.

"Yes, Sentinel Maelius." It was High Councilor Taochrin who spoke next, gripping his podium so hard that it probably would have broken, had it not been magical in construct. "You were given custody of the prisoners with the understanding that events such as those that have occurred could not feasibly happen. How do you account for this failing?"

Maelius drew the six foot blade from the sheath at his side, slamming it tip first into the ground so hard that it sparked off of the gleaming white floor beneath his heavily mailed feet.

"Councilors, there has been no failing on my part." Maelius spoke calmly, but forcefully, making it quite clear he had no qualms about his actions. "As I thoroughly explained previously, the removal of the prisoners from their respective worlds and lives was a necessity to prevent them from becoming future threats. As I also thoroughly explained, there existed the small possibility that the prisoners could escape, if aided from outside sources. In this particular situation, aid came from Earth."

This caused a minor stir among the Council. "Earth?" The Speaker echoed. "Are you certain that you are correct, Sentinel Maelius?"

Even beneath the thick helm that he wore, wisps of white fire could be seen curling out of his eyes in anger. "With respect, High Speaker, are you doubting my honesty or merely my competency?"

Taochrin spoke before the situation could get worse. "You would do well to mind your tongue, young one. Your competency is indeed what we question, which is why you stand here to explain yourself. Now, Earth was stricken of magic nearly four thousand years ago. Other than several very small incidents, there has been no indication that there is any magical ability left on Earth. How do you account for this?"

The Sentinel placed both hands on the pommel of his sword, which was still embedded in the ground. "Though I do not wish to imply that others have been derelict in their past duties, I would reason that the Magic Inquisitions on Earth were not as effective as previously thought. Or, perhaps, Dekk'sca agents have been trying to resurrect Earth as a new battleground."

"This matter warrants further investigation." The Speaker decreed after a second's silence. "Given the situation, the Council is prepared to excuse you of any responsibility of the escape. However, as you were appointed to be the jailer, responsibility of those individuals does fall to you. You must find them and recapture them before the Dekk'sca find them. We cannot tolerate our enemies gaining another tool to use against us."

Maelius brought the hilt of the blade up to his chest. "As the Council wills, it will be carried out."