And the rolling clouds of darkness will cover the islands of Fimmirra. Fire comes from the sky. None shall be spared the wrath of the beasts and the evil from the east.

-Prophecies 15:90

"C'mon Sheala." Reane encouraged the young thief as she fell backwards and under the lunge of her adversary's blade. "Keep your feet under you."

Sheala's blunt practice sword met that of the man sparring opposite her, turning aside his strike and sending it out of harm's way. Her opponent was a thin, but muscular man about her uncle's age. Still, he moved like someone in the prime of their life and his loose-fitting shirt with open sides swayed with every step and stroke. "This would be easier-" She dodged. "If you weren't-" Then another. "Running your mouth so much. Or if I wasn't wearing all this damn padding."

An apparent opening in her opponent's defenses presented itself and Sheala's more aggressive instincts kicked in. She jumped at the chance to end the match, just once, in her favor. But the window of opportunity closed quickly. The next thing Sheala knew, the balled tip of his weapon was against her chest over her heart. She understood if the sword and her rival had both been real, it would have been the death of her. Sheala let out a disappointing sigh as her weapon slipped from her fingers and she yielded.

The man who had beaten her nodded his acceptance of her surrender, drew his sword back, and shook his head. "Twelve weeks." His complaint was always the same. Only the number of weeks changed. "Twelve. And you've learned what?" He returned his sword into a rack along the wall with several others and a slamming thrust that rattled it and punctuated his words. "Nothing."

"I wouldn't say nothing."

"I mean other than the difference between a fruit fork and salad fork. I'm referring to your studies with me. Well, I guess you lasted longer that time. Your problem is that you're too eager."

"Yeah, yeah." Sheala slumped to the ground. "This is stupid. I'm not getting the hang of this fencing thing. Who fights like this anyway?"

"It will help you learn timing. It teaches you to control your stroke; the art of attack and defense."

Not in the mood for a lecture, Sheala stared off to the side. "I'll remember that next time I get into a fight down at the bar."

"Ambassadors do not get into bar fights."

"I'll bet you couldn't last five seconds in a real scrap."

"Sheala." Reane stepped out of the corner she'd chosen to watch the session from. "Gregory is your uncle's personal instructor." As her friend started to stand, Reane pushed her back to her place on the ground. She knew that Sheala was trying to challenge Gregory, and she was not about to let that happen. "You're the one that wouldn't last five seconds."

"What are you scared of, Reane?" This time when Sheala stood, she fought off her friend's attempts to keep her down. Sheala tried to get around her, but Reane blocked her every move. "Afraid I'll hurt him?"

"Sheala-"

"Maybe that's exactly what this young lady needs." Gregory interrupted the squabble between the two women as they debated his competency. Pulling a beautifully crafted long sword from the rack, he displayed it, making sure the fact that its blade was all too real was obvious. "Maybe she learns her lessons best the hard way. I've had students like this before."

"I won't allow it!" Reane turned to stare him square in the eyes.

"We aren't on board your ship, Captain."

"King Turon put me in charge of Sheala's tutoring. So I think I have a say in-"

"You haven't even agreed to lead this mission." Gregory carefully checked the weapon. He twisted the sword about in his hands, examining the weapon from butt to tip like a master of the blade might and getting to know the steel on an intimate level. "As far as I'm concerned, until you do, you don't have any sway over how I choose to teach my students. She hasn't shown any promise yet. And I told King Turon that I'd have her ready when we set sail. That deadline is a week away. And I am not going to tell his Highness that I failed him."

Reane changed her attention from holding back Sheala to Gregory. She grabbed his wrist with both her hands and forced the tip of the blade to the floor. "You don't understand. Please don't goad Sheala into this."

"Oh boo-hoo." Sheala drew out a thin, but still sharp, antique sword from another rack of weapons. "You're not my mother, Reane. How are you going to stop me?"

"Oh, you know I can stop you, Sheala." Reane pointed to her temple and tapped on it. "Remember last year? It only takes one thought. And you won't be able to move for a week."

"Reane." Gregory whispered his request in her ear. "Please. This is the only way. I promise I won't hurt her."

Reane looked at him with skeptical eyes. "Promise me."

"I just did."

Sheala banged the blade of her weapon against the wooden rack. "Hello? Woman with a sword looking for a real scrap here!" She took up a position in the center of the room and paused there like a proud peacock displaying its feathers.

Reane went to her. "This isn't a game. Using real weapons is dangerous."

"More dangerous than anything else I've ever done?" Reane's silence was the only answer she needed. "I'm not a child. "

"No, but you're acting like one. Gregory's an expert swordsman."

"Don't worry, Reane. I know what I'm doing. Just stay out of the way. Okay?"

Reane put her arms up and backed away, knowing Sheala had her mind made up. She looked over her shoulder to Gregory as he approached. "Remember to go easy on her." Gregory responded with the slightest dip of his chin in affirmation, but that did little to sooth Reane's nerves.

He waited as Sheala started to pace around him. Gregory could tell that she was trying to draw him into making the first move, but he held his ground and kept the red-haired woman directly in front of him. As Sheala delayed, Gregory took the time to study her movements and anticipate her plan of attack.

"No rules," Sheala demanded.

Gregory smiled wryly. "That would be a rule."

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Okay, then. Agreed." Gregory's confirmation came as Sheala began to become more serious. She feinted with her weapon, but Gregory was far too experienced to fall for such simple tricks. He could tell by her movements that she was not poised for an actual attack.

"Please go easy on her," Reane begged again.

"Don't worry. I'll see that she lives to learn something from this experience."

Sheala frowned. "Don't get so sure of yourself. Just fight."

Gregory's first move was like lightning and nearly caught her off guard as he lunged with his sword. But Sheala deflected the strike out of harm's way at the last possible second. In response, she lashed out with her foot and kicked him in the back of the knee, sending him off balance and down to the other.

"Tisk, tisk." Sheala planted the tip of her weapon onto the floor stones and leaned on her weapon rather than seize an obvious advantage. She allowed Gregory to return to his feet, even as he favored the knee she had struck.

"Okay," Reane conceded with a smile. "Don't go easy on her."

Gregory dusted himself off, taking the opportunity afforded to him by Sheala's nonchalant attitude. "So that's how you want to play?"

Sheala shook her head. "I said no rules."

"Fine." Gregory brought his sword back to a ready position. "No rules," he added.

Sheala kicked the tip of her sword and flipped it up, catching the hilt out of the air. She had practiced doing that all last night thinking it looked impressive. "Come and get it."

Gregory did. He feinted left, but turned to his right.

Sheala nearly didn't recover in time and stumbled backwards as she intercepted his stroke. He twisted, and another swing went well over her head as she ducked.

As Sheala stabbed wildly for his legs, the master swordsman expected the tactic and moved back out of range. He came at her from his left, and again Sheala blocked aside the blow. But Gregory responded to her counter with one of his own. He flipped around behind her, following his momentum. Grabbing a fist full of her hair, he pulled and slammed her to the ground.

Somehow, Sheala kept her weapon and stopped a strike meant for her arm. Twisting to her feet, the two locked blades when Gregory's next attack came at her. Sheala reverted to close quarters combat and punched him in the gut. Even though the blow winded him, with his superior strength he pushed her away and prevented any followup with her sword.

"Had enough yet?" Sheala teased him through heavy breaths and realizing how much more exhausting no-holds barred fighting was while swinging a piece of steel.

"I haven't even started yet." Gregory lunged.

Sheala blocked the attack, then another, and yet another. Each came so fast and she knew the trouble she was in. The next one glanced the shoulder of her sword arm. The blow would have been worse, had she not been wearing the padding. Still, it caught her just enough and between two of the pads to bite and draw blood.

Gregory stepped back and waited as Sheala gripped the wound with her other hand. "Do you yield?"

"Gregory!" Reane wailed, witnessing a menacing mix of frustration and anger roll across Sheala's face. "Ok, that's enough! Stop this!"

"Never!" Sheala defiantly stabbed with her sword. Gregory knocked it aside with a calm arc of his own. The haphazard assault countered, he brought the edge of his weapon up with a skilled slice that grazed just enough of the skin on the back of Sheala's hand and draw still more blood.

The sting shocked her. She dropped her sword and then felt the butt of his hilt into her temple. Sprawled out on the ground, and Reane rushed over to cover Sheala, seeing in her hazy thoughts that she would try to get up again. "I said, that's enough!" She pushed the thief back down. "This attitude of yours will get you killed, Sheala!"

Sheala rolled over in a groggy haze and gripped the her injured arm, her eyes throwing daggers at Reane.

Gregory stood down, seeing that this match was at an end. "No control. You have no control." He shoved his weapon to the ground allowing the steel to rattle on the stone.

"Ow!" Sheala winced where she sat.

Reane put a fresh bandage over the wound on her hand and the ointment placed on the swath burned her skin. Unsympathetic to her plight, her friend continued to work despite Sheala's protests. "If you'd be a little more careful, and a little less prideful, this wouldn't have happened."

"Great." Sheala rose to her feet and stalked away as Reane tried to finish tying the bandage. "Not another lecture." She paced across the scantly decorated chamber in King Turon's palace. Her uncle had offered her more stately accommodations, but she refused them on account of how awkward it made her feel. If there had been anything available of a lesser quality, she would have jumped at the opportunity and taken it.

"Sheala, this attitude of yours is going to get you in serious trouble."

"Yeah, yeah. So you've told me a thousand times." Relaxing against the edge of a writing desk, Sheala folded her arms. "Is this another one of your premonitions?"

"Damn it, Sheala!" Reane's frustrations exploded out of her. "There was no reason for that childish display you put on earlier! Gregory could have killed you if he wanted to. He's an expert swordsman and doesn't enjoy playing games. Someday you will come up against someone who really wants to take your head off!"

"Already have." Those two simple words, referenced the numerous times where Sheala had been in any variety of serious trouble. "And haven't lost yet."

"Sheala, this isn't like fighting the Black Palm Guild. Hedric's soldiers are trained fighters. You'll be out numbered five or six to one. And those cutesy maneuvers along with that cockiness of yours will only get you killed."

Sheala slammed her wounded fist into the table, then drew it back as pain shot though her. "Damn it, Reane, I promised my uncle that I would go and finish what my Father was to have done. I owe his memory that much." Sheala bowed her head. "I haven't done much with my life. And now's the time to change that."

"Fine." Reane spoke with encouragement. "But make sure you're ready. If you can't defend yourself, then you might end up dead before you get the chance. You already know that Imperial agents can be anywhere. Otherwise you wouldn't be in this position."

"You're still not my mother," Sheala reminded again.

"No." Her uncle's voice echoed. "But I'm not your father either. And you listen to me."

Sheala turned, surprised to see him standing in the doorway. "No but-"

"But what?" The early morning light through the window accented him as he walked across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "Sheala, wisdom doesn't always come from one's parents or the elderly. Reane knows what she's talking about." King Turon acknowledged Reane who nodded in thanks to his kind words. "She's wise beyond her years. And as you realize, she perceives things that others cannot. You would do well to listen to her." He then pointed to her bandaged hand. "I understand that Gregory gave you quite a drubbing last night. I'll talk with him about using real weapons from now on."

Sheala felt for the welt on the side of her head. "No, it was my fault. I wouldn't feel right allowing him to take the blame for my stupidity."

"Well-" Her uncle's words failed him for a moment. "I don't know what to say. I do believe that I'm seeing some changes in you for the good."

"Yeah, well, don't get too mushy on me. Look, I know I'm not perfect, but old habits die hard for me. I've learned a lot from Gregory and would appreciate it if you would allow him to continue to teach me."

"Very well. You may continue your lessons with him. Now, about your other studies-"

Sheala looked to the ceiling. "Oh, uncle. Books are so boring. I hate reading."

"Maybe if they had more pictures-" Reane smirked.

Sheala's non-amusement at her friend's comments were obvious.

The King used his voice to keep the conversation on track. "Knowledge comes in many forms. Being good with a sword will only get you so far. There comes a time when deeper things must be learned. Now, there is also the matter of Lord Raoho's purse that you stole at dinner last night."

Reane cleared her throat as Sheala's mouth gaped at the accusation. "Actually, that was me." Sheala's friend tossed a small bag of coins formerly hanging from her belt onto the floor. "Sorry. Old habits are hard for me to break as well."

The pouch skidded to a halt against King Turon's boot. He regarded it and then the Captain of the Oracle. "Sheala, will you excuse the two of us for a moment?"

Sheala smiled and strutted past Reane on her way out of the room. "At least it's not me in trouble for a change," she whispered to her friend as she exited the room and disappeared.

King Turon bent over and picked up the purse as Reane pleaded her case. "Aw, come on. Lord Raoho's got a whole treasury of gold. There's only eight pieces in there."

"Reane. Sit." She fell silent at the mere tone of the King's voice and placed herself in a chair in the corner. "How do you expect me to get Sheala to grow up if you continue to do things like this?" He held the now recovered pouch of coins up for emphasis. "Why did you do this? I've agreed to everything you asked for in order to lead this mission. And that includes the money. Why haven't you accepted? This," he shook the purse. "This is just you acting like a child."

"We've already been over this. I don't want your help."

"Why? Because you think people won't respect you?"

"I struggled for my reputation." Reane wouldn't let him take the upper hand in this argument. "I don't want anything that I don't earn. If I sign on to be your little errand girl, people are going to talk. You know, I really don't wish to have this conversation. This isn't about me. It is about Sheala."

King Turon allowed her to change the subject. "So what do you think we should do about her?"

"You're probably going to hate me for saying so, but I liked her better before she accepted to do this for you. She's just too moody now. Last night against Gregory, she almost seemed like her old self again. Wild and carefree."

"And reckless?"

Reane sighed. "That's the way she is. She might overstep her abilities, but she always lands on her feet. I'm afraid that this whole situation is turning her into someone that she's not. She might be the Child of the Storm, but she's not a diplomat."

"And you think that display against Gregory was a sign of this?"

"You forget, I'm a mind reader. I know it." Reane remembered how her friend acted and all the thoughts she had seen racing through her mind. "Even though she was getting the tar kicked out of her, she actually enjoyed it."

"We all must grow up sometime; become responsible."

"For some it doesn't work that way."

King Turon nodded in reluctant agreement. "What should I do?"

"I do have an idea. If you're up to it that is?"