(ZOOM FOR DETAILS!) Bellikor's ancient Elf map was priceless so he asked Jobil's clerics to copy a portion of it for her trip. Aranée now sat with her ever-present Elf guards, comparing it to the original. As they talked, Bellikor heard an odd sound at the door and rose to investigate. Aranée heard it too and stood as Bellikor opened the door. A man in a dark cloak ran down the hall and Bellikor frantically waved to them, "GET DOWN!" The guards reacted immediately, hauling her to the floor and covering her with their bodies. Time slowed as Bellikor threw his arms wide and a tremendous fireball bloomed into the doorway. A shock wave and deafening sound roared over them but the fiery wave itself terminated little more than a foot into the room, as if contained within an enormous invisible vessel. Sweat poured from Bellikor as outstretched arms strained before the onslaught. Finally, he brought his hands together and the fire shrank to a small acrid jot of smoke that hung in the air. He wiped his brow and turned to them, "Are you all right?" The guards helped a shaken Aranée to her feet. "W-what was that?" Bellikor nodded to the doorway. "A firebomb at the door. We were seconds away from being incinerated." She nodded and looked at him in wonder. "You stopped it - but how?" He eyed the guards and she added, "They are sworn to secrecy." He hesitated. "I am... a trueborn mage, a natural adept at magical arts. I had abilities even as a young child. I-I did not fully explore them until my teens though." Normally very direct, he looked at the floor. "I-I stopped practicing shortly thereafter." He paused. "You must never share this with anyone." She raised a brow. "But... Why did you stop? It is a great gift." After a moment, he swallowed and closed his eyes. "Like most teen boys I was overconfident and a braggart. But some people were jealous of me... they called me a freak, made terrible cruel fun of my abilities. Angry, I went to the tavern and drank until I passed out." He turned and faced the wall. Quietly, over his shoulder, "I-I awoke in the smoking ruin that had been my village. Everyone... every man, woman and child... my own family... everyone was dead... killed by blind drunken magic rage... my magic... my rage." He turned silently, and looked at her with haunted eyes. "From that moment, I dedicated myself to tightly controlling my accursed 'gift' and acquiring the knowledge necessary to govern my life with intellect... instead of emotion." Aranée started to speak, stopped, then gently squeezed his arm. He composed himself and ran fingers over scorched stones. "We have a more urgent concern now." Back to himself again, he regarded her with steady blue eyes. "Who is brazen enough to kill inside Jobil Castle?" --- TO BE CONTINUED! View episodes in sequence for the entire story. I played and played with this one, trying to get the light just right, but out of frustration I finally had to settle for this. I'm still trying to come up for air which isn't helping. Sorry for not visiting for awhile... PLEASE leave a comment or suggestions, your words mean a lot to me. Your encouragement truly gives me the energy to carry on... Image and story © 2010 by Larry Hodge