Scrambling towards the northwest under the feet of the unsuspecting people around him, he fled towards the open grasslands of the Empire of Arak, and he knew he'd be leading about half the Arakite army and most of its mages. Not to mention the ki'zadun, the Zakkites, the Stygians, and whoever else wanted the Book of Ages. The people around him had no idea who he was, how important the cargo he carried was, what it meant to the world. What it meant to them. If they did, they may have very well turned on those who intended to chase him, prevent them from following, give him the time to escape. But they were blissfully unaware of the stupendous importance of that day, a day that, to them, had been filled with mysterious explosions and strange lights in the sky.

They were better off not knowing.

With a determination borne of emotionless exhaustion, borne of the tremendous weight that was now placed directly upon him, Tarrin fled for the open grasslands. He fled for freedom, he fled to protect the others. He fled because it was what he had to do, knowing full well what would be coming up behind him. Once he was out of the city, he would change form and lead them, draw them, lure them out, let them get on their horses and chase him, where he would run them into the ground.

He felt the weight of the responsibility upon him, not only to his friends, but to his Goddess and to Janette. He could not let them down. Not after he had come so far. He would prevail, he would triumph, because he absolutely refused to allow himself to be beaten. It was a weight that was more noticable now, but had always been upon him, and it was a weight he accepted with eloquence and simple pragmatism.

Better him that someone else. At least he trusted himself to do what was right.

And it was his duty.

Duty was honor. And the price of that honor was blood. Blood he had freely given for his duty, for his honor, blood he would shed in the future if the need arose for it.

Honor and Blood.

GoTo: Title EoF

Epilogue

Shiika was very, very annoyed.

It was an absolute mess. Her minions roamed around the grounds like ants, confused and flustered. Her soldiers rushed around Dala Yar Arak madly, unsure of what to do, uncertain of who was in command.

That damned Were-cat!

It was all his fault! When he killed her Emperor, he had hamstrung her very nicely. They would not obey the Empress. They would only obey the Emperor. Now she had quite a dilemma on her hands, because of him. Without the Emperor, there was no Empire. There would be another Emperor, but it would take a while for one to establish himself and be accepted by the rest of the Empire, and during that entire time Shiika and what was left of her brood would be out of the Palace. Not to mention the fact that there would be chaos in the streets of Dala Yar Arak, chaos in the Empire, until an Emperor arose and order was restored. It had happened before, many times before during the two thousand years she had come to dominate Yar Arak, but at her age, having to live out of the Palace again was an inconvenience she didn't care to suffer.

It was insufferable!

And the damage he had done! It was ridiculous! Hundreds of soldiers, guards, and servants killed! Huge craters in her city! And the Arena was destroyed! It was infuriating! It took her people thirty years to build that stadium, and he destroyed it in seconds! Thousands killed-not that it mattered much to her-and huge holes cut into her beautiful city!

And the Palace! That, that, that Were-cat! Whatever he had done to make magic not work on the Palace grounds was permanent! The Weave, the matrix of magical energy that existed on this world, had been pulled away from the Palace, and without that mystical link, no magic would work anywhere on the Palace grounds. The entire area was now magic-dead. This in itself wouldn't be much of a problem for most people, but Shiika hid her Demonic nature behind magical shapeshifting, and it would no longer function! She could no longer hide herself in her own home!

Insufferable!

She crossed her arms, her wings shivering as she looked down from a balcony, out onto the manicured lawns and beautiful gardens. It was ridiculous, how much damage he did in only a few short days! Even a Demon would be impressed at the havoc the Were-cat had wrought in her city in such a short time. She would have appreciated it, if it hadn't been her city.

Shiika wasn't the usual Demon. Unlike her ilk, she did not revel in chaos and destruction. She was certainly no sweet maiden, and her grasp on morality was not profound. Her only interest was her comfort. Not her power, not her influence, but her comfort. Taking the Empire had been nothing more than a means to secure her own luxury. After all, there were no beings on this world more pampered than the Emperor and Empress of Yar Arak.

That damned Were-cat. She should have killed him when she had the chance. He had screwed everything up. But no, she had to let him live, because she liked him. And after he destroyed the stadium, then it was too late to do anything more to him.

And that reason stood behind her.

The figure even gave her the creeps, and that was no minor complement. It was a single figure, tall and lithe, completely covered by a deep black cloak, a cloak that seemed to shift and move of its own volition, as if it were alive. A cloak that hid the figure's features in a dark shadow, making it seem that the wearer of the cloak was nothing but a shade of the cloak itself.

Shiika had been around a very long time. She had seen this figure before, and she was afraid. She knew just who and what it was. Who she was.

Her name was Spyder. At least that was what she called herself. She was a legendary figure, living for thousands of years, a nearly mythical being who had had a hand in the Blood War, who had had a hand in many historical events since then. She dwelled on the continent of Sharadar, in an inaccessible region between two towering mountain ranges, known only as Haven. She was reputed to be the most powerful being on the planet, a magician whose power was unrivalled.

After what Shiika had seen that day, she would like to bet on just who held that title now.

Some called her the Aleax, the Avenger, the mortal whose duty it was to do the dirty work of the gods on Sennadar. Others called her the Gatekeeper, the defender of the world's only active magical gateway that allowed a native being off the world and into the rest of the multiverse. To others, she was the Guardian, a solitary figure who had defended the unknown, legendary regions of Haven from all incursion by the outside. Shiika knew this woman. She knew that Spyder was all three of those things. And she was a being to fear.

She shivered her wings again, looking out towards the city. "You owe me for this, woman," she said hotly, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. "That Were-cat did serious damage."

"It is nothing you cannot overcome," came the reply. The words were sharp, succinct, each one pronounced with utter perfection before moving on to the next.

"He stripped magic from the Palace. He killed the Emperor! Do you have any idea how long it's going to take me to fix all this?"

"Then do not complain. After all, you can fix it, can you not?"

She snorted. "It's the principle of the matter. I really put my neck out for you, Spyder. If you hadn't have interfered, I could have gotten the book and hidden it again before he got to it. It's what you charged me to do in the first place. And then you come along and tell me not to interfere!"

"It was necessary."

"Damn your necessity!" she snapped, whirling on the cloaked figure, a hand balled into a fist before her. "Look at what he did to my city! I'm starting to get very tired of your flipflopping, Spyder! You bring me the book and tell me to hide it, to guard it, then you stop me from doing what you told me to do in the first place!"