The grand thing about knowing so much magic was the ability to use teleportation so long as you knew a place well. Katerin learned that she did not remember Berin's cabin very well, though her miscalculation had not been too catastrophic. She could see the city in the distance, and she plodded west through the slight drifts of snow with determination warming her ears, and her eyes scanning every shadow. The orb of light she held was kept beneath her cloak so she did not give away her presence with no thought.

It had been a few hours, and she had seen no sign of any soldiers.

Another half an hour passed, and she saw no tracks as the cabin came into view. Torchlight flickered from within its curtained windows.

Odd, she thought. Someone must have fixed the place up. It still looked rickety, and as though it might collapse if someone were to breathe wrong, but on its porch, close to a broken step, was a bundle of twigs. Smoke floated whimsically from the chimney.

Fykes is going to kill me. Maybe he should. She extinguished her light, and kept a solid grip on her staff, as she tried the handle. On her walk, she had wrestled with panic, and accepted her fate. She knew why she was here, and she was prepared as well as she could be, for anything to go wrong. It was too late to turn back.

The door was unlocked, and instantly she felt a wind that was not present along the back of her neck. The cabin seemed as if it was a welcome place, and no one had locked the door.

Even if stealth and caution was a useless measure against Kryrial, it should not have been overlooked. Though, there had been no signs of a struggle, and only a single pair of boot prints could be seen in the light snow.

She pressed the door open, "Mordai?" The small entryway held one pair of boots and Mordai's cloak, and the light was obscured from around the corner. "If you're trying to trick me, I will take your hands to Graiden without the rest of you," she said.

As she stepped from the entryway of the cabin, she heard a hearty laugh.

Kryrial stood in the center of the livingroom, candlelight flickering behind him and glinting off his golden hair. He flicked a finger, and the door clicked closed behind Katerin, locking.

"His hands are mine." Kryrial smiled, shifting his glance to the way she held her staff. "But I am so glad you came. It's long past time you and I had a conversation."

Katerin could not move, though it was no magical effect. "Where's Mordai? How..."

"Sit, and I'll answer." Kryrial stepped aside with a flourish, to show a round table, covered in a velvet cloth, with two silver platters. A vase with a single crimson rose and an opaline decanter with matching glasses decorated its center. "I hope you're hungry, I made the kitchen work like oxen. I know it's your birthday and I would hate to disappoint."

His smile gave her chills.

Katerin looked to the door, feeling an overwhelming urge to run. Mordai was dead already, if Kryrial was here, and if she sat, she was about to be. Fykes is going to kill me, she thought. If I ever get to tell him about this.

"No, my dear." Kryrial tsked. "I will not let you run, but this could be pleasant." Kryrial's tone was soft, unerringly charming. "It's just a nice, private dinner."

Katerin's heart felt as though it was beating only once for every five paces it should have, but she approached and sat rigidly, after Kryrial pulled the chair out for her. He poured them each a glass of wine with all the flourish of a gentleman and took the seat across from her before Katerin could do much more than take in the room she was in with all its viable exits.

Of which there was only one, and a shuttered window.

"Mordai was correct in thinking you beautiful, and... strong willed." He chuckled, eyeing her with an alluring grin. "I can't tell if you want to stab me, or run. But I promise, this is no trick. Just dinner."

"I might do either, but that depends on you," Katerin said, forcing all the bravado she could into her words. "I know I can't lie to a dragon, but can dragons still lie?"

"Of course," Kryrial shrugged. "We are an old race, but not a limited one." With a flourish he pulled the top off the silver platter, and Katerin blinked at the meal before her.

There was garnished roasted pheasant upon the plate, with a red wine based sauce that she recognized. Though she had only had it once before. The occasion had been a birthday just before her graduation from the Tower. Mordai had taken her to the rooftops, and presented her with this same dish, and the spell book that she carried with her to date. Its leather had long since worn as the memory had, but she had never let that book out of her sight. And he had been the only other soul to know of that evening. She had told him then, that it was the finest meal she had ever had.

"How did you..." She stared at the plate.

"Mordai thought himself very clever." Kryrial frowned, looking almost sincere. "But, he was never as clever as I am, and I... I asked him to tell me about you. So he told me everything he knew. Your favorite color, that you hate early mornings. That you would sacrifice yourself, but not your loved ones for your goals. That you pride yourself on your knowledge of magic, and how good you are with a certain element." He picked up his knife and fork and freed himself a delicate bite from his own plate, chewing and swallowing before he spoke again. "But one thing he did not know, was why you are so stubbornly imposing yourself in my business." He looked up at her with blazing blue eyes, and she could not tell if they showed a charming interest, or an interested anger.

"You upended an entire kingdom. Sent an army to kill your own people. You murdered children. You..." Katerin held her dinner knife like a weapon, and stared at Kryrial, willing herself to look away from the plate. It was unsettling that he knew so much of her, when she could piece together so little about him.

"And you have murdered the leader of... some say a mercenary group, but everyone knows Byron was at least powerful enough to be called a lord, or even a king."

"Byron made his own decisions," she said.

Kryrial raised one eyebrow.

"Maximilian could not make any of such choices yet." Katerin's shoulders tensed as she referenced the youngest of the Varsly bloodline.

"Little max would have been useless to the world. The heirs had so little of my blood in their veins that letting them live was... a pitiful fate. But we are straying from the topic. This is about you, Katerin, if I haven't already shown my interest." He gestured across the candlelit table. "You say you have all these just reasons... are you trying to play hero?"

"No. I'm trying to save people."

"You have no ruling power over anyone here. The people you are to protect live on Itrea, do they not?"

"To the hells with ruling power, or political say. It isn't about that."

"Mmm. You are capable, so you do. Those people are rare in the world... they burn out so. Your Byron was once one of those people. He was... a paragon of justice and kindness." Kryrial seemed to find the notion amusing, as he sipped his wine.

"I know. And he ruined that." She raised her chin. "He made the wrong decision."

"And you won't? You are powerful. Very, very powerful. It exudes from you like a perfume. It draws people to you. And yet you are scared, right now." his face grew sympathetic. "The last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me. I haven't met a woman like you in a long time."

Katerin snorted. "Is that supposed to be a compliment? What are you playing at?"

Kryrial tilted his head. "I'm offering you something, Katerin. You could stand beside me. Forget the pressure of protecting all these people, forget the guilt of having to care for them. I can help you with whatever problems you face, and whatever leaves that wary look in your eyes. You've seen a modicum of my power, and I know yours well."

Katerin took a bite of her food, if only to hide the fact that his words had an appeal she could not deny. She pushed her naïve hopes away as she swallowed the bit of perfectly roasted pheasant. "I won't play hired killer for you. I will not stand at the forefront of your armies. I am not for hire, barter, or trade."

He poured Katerin another glass of the ruby red wine, and leaned toward her in his chair, taking her hand gently in his own. His eyes were mesmerizing, but the heat from his hands on hers was unusually high, and reminded Katerin who she was facing. "You misunderstand me. I don't want you at the front of an army. I want you by my side. You have potent blood, and a stronger soul."

"He'll offer you their kingdoms, to deliver you only their maps," Katerin quoted, from an old verse sung late at night by many a musician. She met his eyes, leaning forward. "I want to see you gone from this kingdom. By force or otherwise."

Kryrial straightened, hurt casting shadows in his eyes. "You would turn down a king?"

"If you knew me as well as you claim to, you might know that kings do not compare." Katerin pulled her hand away from him.

"What if I could offer you the power of which the world has only seen once? Some say it's beyond the gods themselves."

Katerin's wine soured on her tongue. "I have no interest in seeing the awakening of a Reclaimer."

Kryrial tsked. "The last one you found... it did not quite reach its awakening. But this one... this one will with a speed you might think impossible. I do not believe will find it as easy to stop, as you did the last." Kryrial looked as though he loved the simple thought of his words.

The chill along Katerin's spine left her glued to her seat. A Reclaimer. In the hands of this man. "You're out of your mind. If you knew their origin you would not even consider this."

"They are the most powerful weapons to have ever been built. And if they can topple gods, they can topple anything."

"They lie dormant for a reason!" Katerin's voice rose to meet her opinion, and her fork twanged as it stabbed into the wooden table.

Kryrial blinked at her, but gave no hint of unease towards her outburst. His smile only widened. "You hinge your emotions on a tripwire, don't you? Fine. If all of that can't convince you, maybe this will. I think you'd prefer to be on the winning side... you have so much pride, and vision." He moved his chair away from the table and walked to the door of what used to house a rickety bedroom.

Opening it, he revealed another dimly lit room, though it appeared he had not renovated this one.

But all Katerin had eyes for was the kneeling, nearly naked form of Mordai. His red tinted skin bore purple marks, swollen cuts, and his bottom lip was split in three places. Where his piercing had been there were only wicked looking holes. His eyes shown nothing, as they looked up at Kryrial, and his silver hair was stained with blood.

Katerin grew cold and nauseous so quickly that the world was falling inward. Mordai was not bound, but he did not try to move, as Kryrial pointed to her. "Greet our lovely guest, won't you?" he said.

Mordai looked to her now, as if he was looking upon someone he had never met.

She felt her heart shatter, memories playing like mirages behind her eyes. "What did you do to him? Can he even speak?"

"No. I took out his tongue." Kryrial's words were not cold, but spoken as if they were fair. "And I took away his... spirit. But I could give it back."

Katerin did not cry, as she looked upon the man who had once been her closest friend. She did not know if it was out of fear for Kryrial, or sheer denial, but she did not cry. "You'll give it back if you can take mine, instead?"

"No, no, no." Kryrial stepped forward, "I don't want to break your spirit. His, however, was becoming meddlesome."

"Regardless," Katerin was surprised how steady her voice was, as she stared at the people before her. She felt the entire world spinning. "I don't see why you think I'd trade myself for a man who has broken my heart on more than one occasion. I had planned to kill him myself."

"You can't lie to me." Kryrial gave her a seeking look. "You never wanted to hurt him. He knew it well."

She did not glance to his expression, only chided herself for trying to fool him. "He isn't there anymore, is he?"

"Much like Colin and Web, I'm afraid. They are blank canvases. But they can be restored."

But I cannot, Katerin thought. "I cannot help you awaken a Reclaimer, Kryrial."

"Then will you give me Kieneltra?" Kryrial's response was immediate, and his hand waved in the air, as if he would reach out for her.

She only could blink in response, as he so quickly changed his game.

"I am no idiot. I know that bargaining takes time, especially with stubborn delegates."

"Why Kieneltra, if you have her brothers?"

"Because she is the strongest. And she doesn't know it. The power she could wield, could equal you, or even me, one day."

"That's only convincing me further away from this."

Kryrial dropped his hand. "I'll give you a minute with him, then. Think it over, Katerin. This choice is only offered once. I would rather not kill you."

Before Katerin could formulate some snarky reply, the cabin door clicked closed behind Kryrial, and she was alone with Mordai.

The sob that caught in her throat cut off her air, and she dropped to her knees beside him, her hands clenching into fists. "You are such an idiot. And so am I." she sniffed. "I begged you not to do this... and now neither of us..." She searched his eyes and found nothing, and that nothing twisted like a knife. "I can't say yes to him! I don't think I can get us both out. Hell, I don't think I can get myself out..."

She placed a hand on his face and was surprised when he leaned into it. She saw his silver eyes, and with their color she saw all the embarrassment, the laughter, the kindness, the coldness and mischief she had ever seen in them. She remembered the strange color of his blush, the way his eyes narrowed when he had drank too much, and how they could roll when she outsmarted him or made a terrible joke.

Minutes passed, and all she could do was hug him, trying to force out some kind of goodbye that would not form into words, or find some plan to let them escape. She heard the door creak open, and took one last shuddering breath, before composing herself again.

"Your mother would have been so proud of you. And I will miss you," she whispered to Mordai, all her aching heart bare within the whisper.

A hand grazed her shoulder, and Kryrial tugged her to her feet, raising one eyebrow at her composed expression. "My, and he said you had so much heart. Is that still a no?"

Katerin said nothing, straightening her shoulders, but making no move to break away from his touch.

Kryrial sighed, his head bowing.

In that moment, some part of Katerin thought Kryrial might simply give up and leave the cabin. But before she had a second to rationalize that thought, it was clarified for her, as a dagger slipped into Kryrial's hand, and plunged into Mordai's eye.