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Traid opened his eyes. Slowly, for they felt sore, and he was facing directly towards the light. He blinked a few times and realised just how much his head hurt. He tried to move his arms – but they were tied.

He sat up, and saw that he was on the open ended back of a moving vehicle. He also saw that his crew was with him. Also tied up. Beyond them, hooded figures, clearly guards stood statue-still, clutching heavy poleaxes.

‘Ah…about time you woke up boss…’ Shadus muttered. The built man had a magnificent bruise over one eye. His bare arms were red and sore. Beside him, almost a taunt, lay his dual handed axe – but he was unable to reach it.

Traid looked closely at the figures. Hombazn sat heavily, his hammer also lay close by, but again, too far to reach. P'tar and Cirai sat back to back tied to each other and still struggling. Their swords were nowhere to be seen. Frinda lay unconscious; gagged and bounded inside a cage.

‘What…happened?’ He croaked. His throat was also very sore.

‘A fight.’ Hombazn said simply in a deep, resonating voice.

‘Yeah…and one which we lost.’ Shadus said bitterly. ‘We were meant to be the best the valley had to offer. And look at us, we got caught! Just like any other useless bunch…’

‘We may have lost,’ P'tar Noin said gruffly, ‘but we put down a good many of them too.’

‘Yes…you fought fiercely.’ An unexpected contribution came from one of the guards. His cloak was heavy and a dull purple, as was his hood. His features were obscured in darkness. Their pants were a dull brown, and their shoes black. With that and their stillness, it was no surprise that they had been perfectly camouflaged in the thick foliage.

‘We have never had a resistance like that before.’ The guard continued. ‘You fought better then many we have found. That one was exceptionally powerful…’ he pointed at the unconscious Frinda. ‘Her magicks were to be awed. And as for those two…’

He pointed at Cirai and Noin.

‘Those two…we hadn’t expected much from them, small as they are’ (and indeed, the figures all stood at least the size of Shadus). ‘But they put up a fierce fight nonetheless. The big men…together they took down many of our best soldiers. Only two died however…we believe both had their skulls bashed by a certain hammer.’ He grinned. ‘And yet, even that wasn’t enough to beat us. You will join your fellows.’

Traid glared at the guard, but inside he was thinking frantically. So this meant that these men were what had happened to the Freelings…then looked at his crew. A sudden whelm of emotions took him.

The first was pride, at what fight his motley group had put up, and the ferocious way in which they had fought. The second was guilt, for he had been the first to fall.

And the third was realisation. Closely followed by hope and hysterical joy. For there was still a secret weapon he held. And one which the guards knew nothing bout.

The last member of their crew had remained un-captured.

-_~*~_-

Furio and Furion overtook Globox. As brothers they had fought, with and against each other, over many battles and over many victories and defeats. They knew each other. They knew how the other fought, and their mind-link made them a formidable fighting force.

And together, they had created a means with which they had cheated death. It had left them with a life debt but they would repay that here and now.

They had done the impossible before. It was time to do it again. And it would have been easy.

Globox made it easier.

He charged, opening his eyes, and realising that there was nothing left to do but fight…even he was amazed – never having fought before – and what strength he held within him. He punched a gnoll with his puny hands – and it went flying. It landed against a tree like a thrown arrow with a sickening crunch. Amazed and reinforced by this sudden burst of courage, the brothers made their charge with the fullness of heart – knowing that if they died, they would have died doing good.

The gnoll leader had not expected such resistance. Any other creature walking upon the earth would have cut his losses and retreated. But this one did not. Fuelled by an overwhelming lust for blood, the leader and his minions charged…

…and it seemed that their charge would be victorious. The three fighters were easily overwhelmed, and soon the brothers were fighting back to back – their weapons blurred – and hacking at the overwhelming wave which gathered toward them. Gnolls nearby not part of the original crew heard the war calls and joined in the mêlée. Many were cut down but many more continued. And the brothers were getting fatigued.

Their blows came slower and slower, and the gnolls realised this with glee and the fanatical fighters pushed forward to press the advantage.

None realised that Globox was some way away from the fight, his hands raised, dancing a complicated and fierce dance. And none noticed the cloud which gathered above.

‘FURIO, RUN!’ Globox yelled. The brothers glanced at Globox, and a gnoll shot his claws forward to pierce Furion’s neck, but a flash from the sky turned the creature into dust. Globox could hold back his power no longer. The brothers dived out of the fight just in time as flashes fell from the sky, and the huge army was turned to dust in a matter of seconds. By the time they had turned to look at the happenings, it was all over.

-_~*~_-

Fianna stood staring into the face of the monster, who she had mutilated, and felt a sudden sorrow and pity for it. After all, it was just another living creature, and by the looks of it, it had been experimented on badly. But there was no time to dwell on this.

For the giant saw her too, and with a roar of anger, recognised who she was. His one remaining eye concentrated on her as his brows crept up in a grimace of anger.

Fianna had drawn her sword, but now, with a calm and steady hand she sheathed it again. Now was not the time to fight.

Now was the time to run.

-_~*~_-

Traid looked carefully around for Niana Fortek, but she was nowhere to be seen. He relaxed. If he could not see her, then the guards never would. And she would know the right time to strike.

Suddenly, one of the wheels of the cart simply rolled off. Traid’s heart caught in his throat – for now, surely, she would come and save them from inevitable doom. But it appeared that this was just a coincidence.

‘I hate it when that happens…’ a guard growled as he stepped off the stopped cart. He moved toward the wheel.

‘What the--’ The guard’s voice was suddenly cut off, his screams never heard. The others were quick to react. They all moved into a battle stance and lifted their spears whilst looking around for any threat.

But none came. Presently, the guards began to relax and another went to find the wheel, and what had happened.

‘Oh SH--’ the man began, but his words were never finished (thankfully). The guards rushed to see what was happening, and all at once their voices disappeared.

And out of nowhere, Traid saw the grinning face of Niana. She came out of the trees where the men had fallen, carrying their helms, and laying them at Shadus’s feet.

‘There! You need not be a warrior to defeat the enemy.’ She grabbed Cirai’s sword and cut through each of their bonds.

‘What did you do?’ Traid asked, still a little confused and gleeful. Niana laughed.

‘You don’t need to know. Come on, I’ll show you.’ She led them to the edge of the trees and they saw what had happened, and also why it had taken so long for Niana to act. Shadus was the first to burst out laughing.

For all the men were still alive, shaking their fists and cursing at them. But it would be a while before they reached the group again, as, looking down the group began to laugh. Niana had dug a hole.

Wiping the tears out of his eyes, Traid turned to Niana. ‘Thank you. Very much. I see now it was no mistake to bring you along on this expedition.’

‘Aha!’ Shadus cried. ‘They did not count on me regaining my weapon! This will be their gravest mistake…’ Joyously, he grabbed his axe and raised it to the sun, and the crew let loose a tremendous roar of victory.

His aching head forgotten, a large smile on his face, he turned to the others at last. ‘Now all we need to do is find out where they were taking us…’

‘No need.’ Hombazn replied. ‘I took care of that.’ Out of nowhere he produced a heavily marked map. ‘This belongs to one of them. It shows where we were heading, and which root would be best to take in order to infiltrate the fortress. We could not have come across a better help. Look!’

He pointed at the map. Their current route was marked in red, and Hombazn pointed out exactly where he thought they were. Tracing his hand across the map, he showed them that there was not long left at all to get to wherever their destination was.

And there lay the most beautiful thing Traid had seen: blueprints of exactly what the fortress looked like…and all its secret, unguarded entrances. Traid looked up with twinkling eyes, a gleam in them that had not existed for years.

The gleam of adventure.

-_~*~_-

Fianna looked around for any escape but for the stairs behind her and saw it almost at once.

A huge, towering door stood directly behind the giant monstrosity, which it seemed to be guarding with a fierce determination.

And that was it. Try as she might, so could see no other escape. That ruled running out…and left only fighting. She took another closer look at the room around her.

‘Ok,’ she thought, drawing a bow. ‘Time for fighting,’

-_~*~_-

The puny little creature which had hurt him oh so badly before would regret it. Jaques felt rage and glee and hate welling up inside him, and the creature edged slowly backwards… until it could go backwards no more.

He glared at it with thin slit eyes and thought on which arm to use. Perhaps, the use of magic would be appropriate. He glanced at his staff, and bared his teeth. No…too easy.

Ah…the ultimate cause of pain. He could squeeze her to death! A very appetising thought. He could burn her, melt her, poison her with his pipe of an arm. He could pull her apart, he could squash her…the possibilities were endless. And each one more appetising then the last.

Opening him mutilated mouth, he let out a roar of laughter. Picking ways to defeat your helpless prey was fun. He looked down at her again…and she was nowhere to be seen.

-_~*~_-

Fianna ran panting up the next flight of stairs. Well…that was that taken care of. Easy to outsmart a giant when you think about it. She laughed nervously, still shaky at the thought of facing that monstrosity. She ran full pelt to the very top of the stairs and before her stood a door, so intricately carved, so wonderfully cut…and yet, so wrong somehow.

She pressed her ear lightly to the door and heard very faintly:

‘Ah…think Rayman. And there ends my advice…and I will no longer be going easy on you…’

Her eyes widened as she heard the battle resume, and she pushed with all her might against a door which would not budge.

-_~*~_-

Rayman looked bleakly into the eyes of the possessed. Éréandé’s eyes, so horribly beautiful, and so horribly cold.

He realised that he too had been possessed. He had given in to his feelings. He had killed without mercy. He had let rage consume him. And with that thought came peace. No longer did he feel anger, nor hate, nor any kind of pain, and a bliss came over him.

Instead of backing away from Éréandé’s assault, he welcomed it, and watched eagerly for a fight he knew would be the best he had fought yet. Rayman did enjoy a good fight.

As she came ever closer, she seemed to change…grow larger. Soon she was towering over Rayman, a deep blue aura surrounding her and threatening to envelop Rayman. But around Rayman there appeared a little flame, a little aura of good, of peace: and through that aura Éréandé could not pierce.

Rayman charge forward, a guided missile in his own right, and jumped into Éréandé, knocking her off balance and diffusing the illusion. She returned to normal size; a scowl on her face, and from her mouth there looked to emit the blood of innocents.

Rayman smiled at her, and in response she threw at him a ball of utmost cold. Rayman had not expected it and it hit him full on. He doubled over in pain and realised that this fight would be no pushover.

he charged a fire ball, and dodging to his right flung it at Éréandé. She dodged it, but she had not expected a second one to be following it. It hit her right on her face, and her beautiful features melted.

Behind them lay the true features of evil. The mask which this version of Éréandé had worn was true only when Éréandé was pure and good. Rayman felt a sudden desire not to know what could be the exact opposite of something as beautiful of Éréandé.

Éréandé picked on this sudden hesitancy by flying into Rayman, knocking off his feet and sending him flying into the wall. His fists tumbled to the ground and his eyes glazed over.

She grinned savagely and walked slowly toward him. But before she could get very far, Rayman’s fists, acting, seemingly, on their own assaulted her from every direction. It was like trying to fight off a swarm of mosquitoes which really were very painful.

Rayman jumped to his feet, and watched his fists beating this monstrosity. From where his hands usually hung there appeared two large balls of light, one a deep gold and one a bright sapphire. They grew bigger and bigger as Éréandé tried valiantly to fight off the fists.

Finally, she froze one in mid air – Rayman winced in pain – and ignoring the other one turned back to Rayman. The vicious look in her eyes turned to shock as Rayman let loose his two orbs.

She staggered backwards, and Rayman edged slowly forward, wary but confident of his win. Then there came a long deep laugh as Éréandé straightened. She didn’t look damaged one bit.

‘Fool!’ She screamed, and, with a hand encased in ice, gave him a uppercut which lifted him off his feet.

Dazed, he crashed to the floor. She walked to him and stopped with her face inches away from his. She smiled at him – a cold, evil thing – and spat into his face.

Whilst the waters of good healed and invigorated, this water did the opposite. Rayman’s face burnt from the poison as she laughed into his face – a laugh which was cut short.

-_~*~_-

Fianna opened the door just in time to see the uppercut. When Éréandé looked into his face, she knew that he was done so, and quailed in fear, but as the laugh of Éréandé rang out, a bright orange flame pushed her aside.

Her aura died at once, as did the orange flame. Unconscious, the two aspects lay atop each other. Flaréoné had saved Rayman’s life.

‘ENOUGH!’ a voice rand out which echoed in this large room, until it sounded like a million voices were screaming.

‘What do you think you are doing you fool!’ the voice yelled at the unconscious Flaréoné. But at that sound a twitch came to Flaréoné’s mouth and even as he slept, he smiled.

Then appeared Oranu, at last, in the guise of an old frail man, a long pale beard stretching to his toes, wearing clothes so white they hurt to look at. His were the eyes which had plagued the heroes before their quest was even begun.

But even as he surveyed the scene, he laughed – for he had not expected Éréandé to do as well as she had. He had underestimated the prowess of water. And Rayman’s trial was still not over.

‘Get up onto your feet, Rayman…’ Oranu hissed. ‘This ordeal is not yet over.’ And by his side there appeared a hideous monster who Rayman somehow recognised.

Groaning, Rayman managed to rise to unsteady feet.

In front of him stood a very tall being. Its very muscled arms hung down to its ankles. Its whole body was covered in thick brown fur that made it look so much larger then it really was. Its fur stopped around its hands and bare feet which were also brown but somewhat duller. Its small head sat directly above its body with little neck. It had huge red lips that stretched from side to side, stuck permanently into place. It frowned and smiled with its eyes: black dots in its face. The little hair it had was the same colour and consistency as its fur, and it was more like a cap that hair. Its ears were small at the side its head and not very noticeable. It stood almost twice the size Rayman.

‘Say hello to my little friend…and a very good friend of yours I hear.’ And more laughter rang out, for this creature which stood before Rayman was the aspect of earth: a being who had long helped and counselled Rayman; the reason that this quest was begun in the first place: Polokus.

The End ?

:o (Eek) — Description
Traid opened his eyes. Slowly, for they felt sore, and he was facing directly towards the light. He blinked a few times and realised just how much his head hurt. He tried to move his arms – but they were tied.

He sat up, and saw that he was on the open ended back of a moving vehicle. He also saw that his crew was with him. Also tied up. Beyond them, hooded figures, clearly guards stood statue-still, clutching heavy poleaxes.

‘Ah…about time you woke up boss…’ Shadus muttered. The built man had a magnificent bruise over one eye. His bare arms were red and sore. Beside him, almost a taunt, lay his dual handed axe – but he was unable to reach it.

Traid looked closely at the figures. Hombazn sat heavily, his hammer also lay close by, but again, too far to reach. P'tar and Cirai sat back to back tied to each other and still struggling. Their swords were nowhere to be seen. Frinda lay unconscious; gagged and bounded inside a cage.

‘What…happened?’ He croaked. His throat was also very sore.

‘A fight.’ Hombazn said simply in a deep, resonating voice.

‘Yeah…and one which we lost.’ Shadus said bitterly. ‘We were meant to be the best the valley had to offer. And look at us, we got caught! Just like any other useless bunch…’

‘We may have lost,’ P'tar Noin said gruffly, ‘but we put down a good many of them too.’

‘Yes…you fought fiercely.’ An unexpected contribution came from one of the guards. His cloak was heavy and a dull purple, as was his hood. His features were obscured in darkness. Their pants were a dull brown, and their shoes black. With that and their stillness, it was no surprise that they had been perfectly camouflaged in the thick foliage.

‘We have never had a resistance like that before.’ The guard continued. ‘You fought better then many we have found. That one was exceptionally powerful…’ he pointed at the unconscious Frinda. ‘Her magicks were to be awed. And as for those two…’

He pointed at Cirai and Noin.

‘Those two…we hadn’t expected much from them, small as they are’ (and indeed, the figures all stood at least the size of Shadus). ‘But they put up a fierce fight nonetheless. The big men…together they took down many of our best soldiers. Only two died however…we believe both had their skulls bashed by a certain hammer.’ He grinned. ‘And yet, even that wasn’t enough to beat us. You will join your fellows.’

Traid glared at the guard, but inside he was thinking frantically. So this meant that these men were what had happened to the Freelings…then looked at his crew. A sudden whelm of emotions took him.

The first was pride, at what fight his motley group had put up, and the ferocious way in which they had fought. The second was guilt, for he had been the first to fall.

And the third was realisation. Closely followed by hope and hysterical joy. For there was still a secret weapon he held. And one which the guards knew nothing bout.

The last member of their crew had remained un-captured.

-_~*~_-

Furio and Furion overtook Globox. As brothers they had fought, with and against each other, over many battles and over many victories and defeats. They knew each other. They knew how the other fought, and their mind-link made them a formidable fighting force.

And together, they had created a means with which they had cheated death. It had left them with a life debt but they would repay that here and now.

They had done the impossible before. It was time to do it again. And it would have been easy.

Globox made it easier.

He charged, opening his eyes, and realising that there was nothing left to do but fight…even he was amazed – never having fought before – and what strength he held within him. He punched a gnoll with his puny hands – and it went flying. It landed against a tree like a thrown arrow with a sickening crunch. Amazed and reinforced by this sudden burst of courage, the brothers made their charge with the fullness of heart – knowing that if they died, they would have died doing good.

The gnoll leader had not expected such resistance. Any other creature walking upon the earth would have cut his losses and retreated. But this one did not. Fuelled by an overwhelming lust for blood, the leader and his minions charged…

…and it seemed that their charge would be victorious. The three fighters were easily overwhelmed, and soon the brothers were fighting back to back – their weapons blurred – and hacking at the overwhelming wave which gathered toward them. Gnolls nearby not part of the original crew heard the war calls and joined in the mêlée. Many were cut down but many more continued. And the brothers were getting fatigued.

Their blows came slower and slower, and the gnolls realised this with glee and the fanatical fighters pushed forward to press the advantage.

None realised that Globox was some way away from the fight, his hands raised, dancing a complicated and fierce dance. And none noticed the cloud which gathered above.

‘FURIO, RUN!’ Globox yelled. The brothers glanced at Globox, and a gnoll shot his claws forward to pierce Furion’s neck, but a flash from the sky turned the creature into dust. Globox could hold back his power no longer. The brothers dived out of the fight just in time as flashes fell from the sky, and the huge army was turned to dust in a matter of seconds. By the time they had turned to look at the happenings, it was all over.

-_~*~_-

Fianna stood staring into the face of the monster, who she had mutilated, and felt a sudden sorrow and pity for it. After all, it was just another living creature, and by the looks of it, it had been experimented on badly. But there was no time to dwell on this.

For the giant saw her too, and with a roar of anger, recognised who she was. His one remaining eye concentrated on her as his brows crept up in a grimace of anger.

Fianna had drawn her sword, but now, with a calm and steady hand she sheathed it again. Now was not the time to fight.

Now was the time to run.

-_~*~_-

Traid looked carefully around for Niana Fortek, but she was nowhere to be seen. He relaxed. If he could not see her, then the guards never would. And she would know the right time to strike.

Suddenly, one of the wheels of the cart simply rolled off. Traid’s heart caught in his throat – for now, surely, she would come and save them from inevitable doom. But it appeared that this was just a coincidence.

‘I hate it when that happens…’ a guard growled as he stepped off the stopped cart. He moved toward the wheel.

‘What the--’ The guard’s voice was suddenly cut off, his screams never heard. The others were quick to react. They all moved into a battle stance and lifted their spears whilst looking around for any threat.

But none came. Presently, the guards began to relax and another went to find the wheel, and what had happened.

‘Oh SH--’ the man began, but his words were never finished (thankfully). The guards rushed to see what was happening, and all at once their voices disappeared.

And out of nowhere, Traid saw the grinning face of Niana. She came out of the trees where the men had fallen, carrying their helms, and laying them at Shadus’s feet.

‘There! You need not be a warrior to defeat the enemy.’ She grabbed Cirai’s sword and cut through each of their bonds.

‘What did you do?’ Traid asked, still a little confused and gleeful. Niana laughed.

‘You don’t need to know. Come on, I’ll show you.’ She led them to the edge of the trees and they saw what had happened, and also why it had taken so long for Niana to act. Shadus was the first to burst out laughing.

For all the men were still alive, shaking their fists and cursing at them. But it would be a while before they reached the group again, as, looking down the group began to laugh. Niana had dug a hole.

Wiping the tears out of his eyes, Traid turned to Niana. ‘Thank you. Very much. I see now it was no mistake to bring you along on this expedition.’

‘Aha!’ Shadus cried. ‘They did not count on me regaining my weapon! This will be their gravest mistake…’ Joyously, he grabbed his axe and raised it to the sun, and the crew let loose a tremendous roar of victory.

His aching head forgotten, a large smile on his face, he turned to the others at last. ‘Now all we need to do is find out where they were taking us…’

‘No need.’ Hombazn replied. ‘I took care of that.’ Out of nowhere he produced a heavily marked map. ‘This belongs to one of them. It shows where we were heading, and which root would be best to take in order to infiltrate the fortress. We could not have come across a better help. Look!’

He pointed at the map. Their current route was marked in red, and Hombazn pointed out exactly where he thought they were. Tracing his hand across the map, he showed them that there was not long left at all to get to wherever their destination was.

And there lay the most beautiful thing Traid had seen: blueprints of exactly what the fortress looked like…and all its secret, unguarded entrances. Traid looked up with twinkling eyes, a gleam in them that had not existed for years.

The gleam of adventure.

-_~*~_-

Fianna looked around for any escape but for the stairs behind her and saw it almost at once.

A huge, towering door stood directly behind the giant monstrosity, which it seemed to be guarding with a fierce determination.

And that was it. Try as she might, so could see no other escape. That ruled running out…and left only fighting. She took another closer look at the room around her.

‘Ok,’ she thought, drawing a bow. ‘Time for fighting,’

-_~*~_-

The puny little creature which had hurt him oh so badly before would regret it. Jaques felt rage and glee and hate welling up inside him, and the creature edged slowly backwards… until it could go backwards no more.

He glared at it with thin slit eyes and thought on which arm to use. Perhaps, the use of magic would be appropriate. He glanced at his staff, and bared his teeth. No…too easy.

Ah…the ultimate cause of pain. He could squeeze her to death! A very appetising thought. He could burn her, melt her, poison her with his pipe of an arm. He could pull her apart, he could squash her…the possibilities were endless. And each one more appetising then the last.

Opening him mutilated mouth, he let out a roar of laughter. Picking ways to defeat your helpless prey was fun. He looked down at her again…and she was nowhere to be seen.

-_~*~_-

Fianna ran panting up the next flight of stairs. Well…that was that taken care of. Easy to outsmart a giant when you think about it. She laughed nervously, still shaky at the thought of facing that monstrosity. She ran full pelt to the very top of the stairs and before her stood a door, so intricately carved, so wonderfully cut…and yet, so wrong somehow.

She pressed her ear lightly to the door and heard very faintly:

‘Ah…think Rayman. And there ends my advice…and I will no longer be going easy on you…’

Her eyes widened as she heard the battle resume, and she pushed with all her might against a door which would not budge.

-_~*~_-

Rayman looked bleakly into the eyes of the possessed. Éréandé’s eyes, so horribly beautiful, and so horribly cold.

He realised that he too had been possessed. He had given in to his feelings. He had killed without mercy. He had let rage consume him. And with that thought came peace. No longer did he feel anger, nor hate, nor any kind of pain, and a bliss came over him.

Instead of backing away from Éréandé’s assault, he welcomed it, and watched eagerly for a fight he knew would be the best he had fought yet. Rayman did enjoy a good fight.

As she came ever closer, she seemed to change…grow larger. Soon she was towering over Rayman, a deep blue aura surrounding her and threatening to envelop Rayman. But around Rayman there appeared a little flame, a little aura of good, of peace: and through that aura Éréandé could not pierce.

Rayman charge forward, a guided missile in his own right, and jumped into Éréandé, knocking her off balance and diffusing the illusion. She returned to normal size; a scowl on her face, and from her mouth there looked to emit the blood of innocents.

Rayman smiled at her, and in response she threw at him a ball of utmost cold. Rayman had not expected it and it hit him full on. He doubled over in pain and realised that this fight would be no pushover.

he charged a fire ball, and dodging to his right flung it at Éréandé. She dodged it, but she had not expected a second one to be following it. It hit her right on her face, and her beautiful features melted.

Behind them lay the true features of evil. The mask which this version of Éréandé had worn was true only when Éréandé was pure and good. Rayman felt a sudden desire not to know what could be the exact opposite of something as beautiful of Éréandé.

Éréandé picked on this sudden hesitancy by flying into Rayman, knocking off his feet and sending him flying into the wall. His fists tumbled to the ground and his eyes glazed over.

She grinned savagely and walked slowly toward him. But before she could get very far, Rayman’s fists, acting, seemingly, on their own assaulted her from every direction. It was like trying to fight off a swarm of mosquitoes which really were very painful.

Rayman jumped to his feet, and watched his fists beating this monstrosity. From where his hands usually hung there appeared two large balls of light, one a deep gold and one a bright sapphire. They grew bigger and bigger as Éréandé tried valiantly to fight off the fists.

Finally, she froze one in mid air – Rayman winced in pain – and ignoring the other one turned back to Rayman. The vicious look in her eyes turned to shock as Rayman let loose his two orbs.

She staggered backwards, and Rayman edged slowly forward, wary but confident of his win. Then there came a long deep laugh as Éréandé straightened. She didn’t look damaged one bit.

‘Fool!’ She screamed, and, with a hand encased in ice, gave him a uppercut which lifted him off his feet.

Dazed, he crashed to the floor. She walked to him and stopped with her face inches away from his. She smiled at him – a cold, evil thing – and spat into his face.

Whilst the waters of good healed and invigorated, this water did the opposite. Rayman’s face burnt from the poison as she laughed into his face – a laugh which was cut short.

-_~*~_-

Fianna opened the door just in time to see the uppercut. When Éréandé looked into his face, she knew that he was done so, and quailed in fear, but as the laugh of Éréandé rang out, a bright orange flame pushed her aside.

Her aura died at once, as did the orange flame. Unconscious, the two aspects lay atop each other. Flaréoné had saved Rayman’s life.

‘ENOUGH!’ a voice rand out which echoed in this large room, until it sounded like a million voices were screaming.

‘What do you think you are doing you fool!’ the voice yelled at the unconscious Flaréoné. But at that sound a twitch came to Flaréoné’s mouth and even as he slept, he smiled.

Then appeared Oranu, at last, in the guise of an old frail man, a long pale beard stretching to his toes, wearing clothes so white they hurt to look at. His were the eyes which had plagued the heroes before their quest was even begun.

But even as he surveyed the scene, he laughed – for he had not expected Éréandé to do as well as she had. He had underestimated the prowess of water. And Rayman’s trial was still not over.

‘Get up onto your feet, Rayman…’ Oranu hissed. ‘This ordeal is not yet over.’ And by his side there appeared a hideous monster who Rayman somehow recognised.

Groaning, Rayman managed to rise to unsteady feet.

In front of him stood a very tall being. Its very muscled arms hung down to its ankles. Its whole body was covered in thick brown fur that made it look so much larger then it really was. Its fur stopped around its hands and bare feet which were also brown but somewhat duller. Its small head sat directly above its body with little neck. It had huge red lips that stretched from side to side, stuck permanently into place. It frowned and smiled with its eyes: black dots in its face. The little hair it had was the same colour and consistency as its fur, and it was more like a cap that hair. Its ears were small at the side its head and not very noticeable. It stood almost twice the size Rayman.

‘Say hello to my little friend…and a very good friend of yours I hear.’ And more laughter rang out, for this creature which stood before Rayman was the aspect of earth: a being who had long helped and counselled Rayman; the reason that this quest was begun in the first place: Polokus.

The End ?