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His hand shook as it gently cupped her face and he traced bloodstained fingertips along her cheek as he cradled her fallen body close. “It can’t end this way…” He whispered brokenly. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to open. “Laylan…” The darkwiller known as Christopher Night whispered softly, he could feel the life slipping slowly from her. “Stay with me.” With much effort, her eyes finally opened and she reached out to touch his face. “This is the way it must be.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. He shook his head and her hand moved to trace across his lips before he could protest. He could feel her body start to go limp in his arms as her eyes drifted shut once more, her lips parting as she struggled to speak. He leaned in close. “I’ve always..loved you.” She breathed softly into his ear, then brushed her lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes, shaking softly from her words as he turned his head to tenderly kiss her lips. He felt her hand press something into his, then go limp as all life left her. He held her close, his head falling to her shoulder as the tears gathered in his eyes. “No…” He whispered, shaking his head in denial as he cradled her now lifeless body. He knew without looking that the object she’d pressed into his hand was her soulstone and he gripped it tight. He could feel the sorrow building within him until it hummed like a weapon. “NOOOOOO!” He raised his head and shouted to the heavens as he forced the magic in the air around him to expand and destroy. The building shuddered and fell as the four walls and ceiling exploded outwards with his fury.

~Wake up Chris.~ A voice suddenly gripped his mind and with a start, he awoke and sat up in bed, sweat beading upon his forehead. His breath was quick and his body was shaking from the emotion he’d felt..but it had all simply been a terrible nightmare. He frowned, shoved the covers aside and stepped out of bed. He knew his companion, the psionist Randora, would only have awakened him for good reason. He only wished she’d awaken him earlier in the dream. He slipped into some clothes, then opened his door to find Randora standing nearby. She quirked a brow as she looked at him. “Rough night?” She questioned, her amethyst eyes seeing the turmoil in his aura. Not answering, he strode forward and down the long hallway.

Randora kept pace beside him. “Two of Shanta’s servants are awaiting you in the front hall.” She spoke nonchalantly. “They said it was important.”

“Everything to Shanta is important...especially the trivial.” He frowned, his bright blue eyes shifting a shade darker as he made his way toward the chamber.

When he reached the entrance, he caused the doors to fly open and caught his first glimpse of the two messengers that waited within. Not too long ago, Shanta’s messengers had begun to arrive in pairs. After some prior incidents, it seemed none of them had the courage to come alone. He almost grinned.

“Christopher Night.” One of the messengers turned quickly to address him as he strode into the chamber. “Mistress Shanta demands your immediate attention. You are to meet her at once.”

Chris remained stoic as he eyed the two young messengers. The one who had not spoken was shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

After a few moments of silence, the first messenger frowned. “What answer should I bring to her?” He asked impatiently.

Chris moved slowly towards the messengers, until he stood only a foot from the one who’d spoken. Without a word, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the man’s tunic and lifted him off the ground. The messenger’s eyes widened for a moment and there was a quick wet bursting sound from his chest as he gave a single gasp of pain before Chris dropped his limp body to the floor. Chris flexed his hand and turned to meet the second messengers fearful eyes. “That brief pop you heard was his heart. .and you can take that back to Shanta as my answer.” He whispered coldly, shoving the dead messenger towards the other with a kick of his boot before he turned and left the chamber.

Randora turned from the doorway with a frown and stepped into pace beside Chris as he made his way towards the front door. For a moment there was nothing but silence between them. “You know, you’re a real asshole Chris.” Randora stated matter-of-a-factly as they reached the entrance to the castle. Chris glanced down at his old friend. “I’m sorry, did I ever pretend to be something different?” He quipped coldly as he left the castle. The glance he shot Randora told her he needed some time to himself. She shook her head as she watched him go. From what she had glimpsed of his nightmare before waking him up, she knew he would need some time and some answers.

Description
His hand shook as it gently cupped her face and he traced bloodstained fingertips along her cheek as he cradled her fallen body close. “It can’t end this way…” He whispered brokenly. Her eyes fluttered, struggling to open. “Laylan…” The darkwiller known as Christopher Night whispered softly, he could feel the life slipping slowly from her. “Stay with me.” With much effort, her eyes finally opened and she reached out to touch his face. “This is the way it must be.” She whispered, her voice barely audible. He shook his head and her hand moved to trace across his lips before he could protest. He could feel her body start to go limp in his arms as her eyes drifted shut once more, her lips parting as she struggled to speak. He leaned in close. “I’ve always..loved you.” She breathed softly into his ear, then brushed her lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes, shaking softly from her words as he turned his head to tenderly kiss her lips. He felt her hand press something into his, then go limp as all life left her. He held her close, his head falling to her shoulder as the tears gathered in his eyes. “No…” He whispered, shaking his head in denial as he cradled her now lifeless body. He knew without looking that the object she’d pressed into his hand was her soulstone and he gripped it tight. He could feel the sorrow building within him until it hummed like a weapon. “NOOOOOO!” He raised his head and shouted to the heavens as he forced the magic in the air around him to expand and destroy. The building shuddered and fell as the four walls and ceiling exploded outwards with his fury.

~Wake up Chris.~ A voice suddenly gripped his mind and with a start, he awoke and sat up in bed, sweat beading upon his forehead. His breath was quick and his body was shaking from the emotion he’d felt..but it had all simply been a terrible nightmare. He frowned, shoved the covers aside and stepped out of bed. He knew his companion, the psionist Randora, would only have awakened him for good reason. He only wished she’d awaken him earlier in the dream. He slipped into some clothes, then opened his door to find Randora standing nearby. She quirked a brow as she looked at him. “Rough night?” She questioned, her amethyst eyes seeing the turmoil in his aura. Not answering, he strode forward and down the long hallway.

Randora kept pace beside him. “Two of Shanta’s servants are awaiting you in the front hall.” She spoke nonchalantly. “They said it was important.”

“Everything to Shanta is important...especially the trivial.” He frowned, his bright blue eyes shifting a shade darker as he made his way toward the chamber.

When he reached the entrance, he caused the doors to fly open and caught his first glimpse of the two messengers that waited within. Not too long ago, Shanta’s messengers had begun to arrive in pairs. After some prior incidents, it seemed none of them had the courage to come alone. He almost grinned.

“Christopher Night.” One of the messengers turned quickly to address him as he strode into the chamber. “Mistress Shanta demands your immediate attention. You are to meet her at once.”

Chris remained stoic as he eyed the two young messengers. The one who had not spoken was shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot.

After a few moments of silence, the first messenger frowned. “What answer should I bring to her?” He asked impatiently.

Chris moved slowly towards the messengers, until he stood only a foot from the one who’d spoken. Without a word, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the man’s tunic and lifted him off the ground. The messenger’s eyes widened for a moment and there was a quick wet bursting sound from his chest as he gave a single gasp of pain before Chris dropped his limp body to the floor. Chris flexed his hand and turned to meet the second messengers fearful eyes. “That brief pop you heard was his heart. .and you can take that back to Shanta as my answer.” He whispered coldly, shoving the dead messenger towards the other with a kick of his boot before he turned and left the chamber.

Randora turned from the doorway with a frown and stepped into pace beside Chris as he made his way towards the front door. For a moment there was nothing but silence between them. “You know, you’re a real asshole Chris.” Randora stated matter-of-a-factly as they reached the entrance to the castle. Chris glanced down at his old friend. “I’m sorry, did I ever pretend to be something different?” He quipped coldly as he left the castle. The glance he shot Randora told her he needed some time to himself. She shook her head as she watched him go. From what she had glimpsed of his nightmare before waking him up, she knew he would need some time and some answers.