Authors Note:  This story brings one of my other characters into the mix for Panthelia.  This is a story that will be rewritten evenutally to clean up some things, both in terms of the writing, as well as the story.  I'm posting it now because it's important to find out how she came to the world.

ashtur_anvangan@yahoo.com
 
 

Wendy  lies in bed, tossing and turning.  A restless sleep crossed with dreams of somewhere else.
Finally.. she gets up, and quietly dresses.  She loads her pack, but leaves it in her room. Instead, she finds her way to the roof, where the solitary guardian of the Chantry sits...

"Ezrael.... I can't say I understand it.. but deep down, I know there is somewhere I'm supposed to go, some place I'm supposed to be.  I just feel that I'm being called.  *sighs*  I know people will think I'm abandoning them.. being same old Wendy... but deep down, this is different.  Please help them to understand."
 

She head downstairs and finds the two reasons that she has not gone yet... the two girls she sees as neices in a way.. Iris and Kagami.  Using her power to suppress any sound, she looks at both of them in their respective rooms for a moment, sadly, with a tear in her eye... and plants a gentle kiss on each of their foreheads as they sleep.

Finally, she pauses at Tani and Yurusu's door for a moment... but she sighs, knowing that he is not there.

She walks to the portal, and somehow, although it had been destroyed it opens, and she steps through, to who knows where.
 

  Wendy steps out of the portal and lands with a bit of a thump, as she had not expected it to be a couple of feet off the ground.  After of moment of silent cursing, she looks around, wondering where in the world “here” is.  It was obvious that she was not in the same place she had been the other day when her and Astri had come to find Deztinee.  The scenery was totally different. Where they had been near a town before, now she was deep in the wilderness. She could see the mountains to the one side, and a deep forest on the other.

  She hefts her pack to her shoulder, and soon finds her way onto a game trail leading through the woods.   The chill in the air gives her a pretty good idea that like back home, it’s winter, or close to it, and she wants to get out of the mountains before then.  Not really knowing where she is going, she puts one foot ahead of the other, just going nowhere.. yet that same sense of having someplace to be drives her steps at the same time.

   After a few moments, she slows down, seeing smoke on the horizon. Not the smoke of a forest fire, or a battle, just a simple, small smoke plume rising from the forest, like a fireplace.  Sure enough, after a few moments, she can see a small clearing, and a cluster of huts.  Wanting to get the lay of the land before she meets anyone, she slips as close to the can as she can while still being in the cover of the trees and watches.  The light breeze carries a few whipsers of conversation to her, and she silently is grateful that she can understand it.  She’s not sure if they speak English here, or if whatever brought her here just gave her the ability to understand the local speech, but one of her major worries did not look like it would be an issue.

 She watched the locals go about their day, and saw that she had ended up in something out of the Middle Ages by the look of it.  The highest technology she saw was the smith’s forge, and the plows that the farmers had stored near their huts.  As she waited, she saw a woman walk into town, with a large pack on her own back.  As the townspeople came out to greet her, it became obvious that the woman was a trader or peddler, and with that, Wendy got an idea.

   She crept deeper into the woods, and after listening closely, was satisfied that there was no one around.   She slipped out of her clothes, and laid them on a rock.  Slowly, quietly, she began to chant while holding her hands over the clothing.. and they began to change form.  What had been one of her plain old jeans and sweatshirt combinations was now something different.  Quickly, she put them on, and was soon dressed in a grey woolen skirt, with a blue shirt and a faded red vest, much like what the peddler had worn.  Likewise, with some effort, her tennis shoes became leather half boots.  She smiled a bit, thinking about how her abilities with matter had never stood her in such good stead.  Then, she started a moment, as she realized that she was not feeling ill, she had no great disasters raining down on her, none of that.  She smiled, realizing that somehow, she was in a place without paradox.
 
 

  After “creating” her new wardrobe, Wendy sets back down the road again.  As she sets her feet on the road, she is reminded of the place in Tolkien’s works that the road that lead past Bag End also led past Rivendell, and all the way to Minas Tirith and Mordor.  When you set your feet on that road, you just never know where it will take you.  She’s always been a homebody, preferring to have a cup of tea and a good book than “roughing it”, but in an odd way, she finds herself enjoying this trip.  Soon, as she makes her way down the road, she is whistling “When Johnny Comes Marching Home”.. a bit off key, and without rhythm, but the birds aren’t complaining, at least not too loudly.

   She finds herself wondering once again where she is.  The longer she goes, the more she suspects that it is a place that she has never heard of.  There is much that is familiar, the forest she is in is oaks and elms, with an occasional pine or cedar, and she can see the squirrels bounding from branch to branch above her.  But, when she is able to look through the canopy of trees to the sky, she sees strange things flying… almost like a painting of a wyvern in a book of mythology.  She stays on her path for two days after seeing the small forest village, but sees no sign of human life anywhere.

   She is continuing on her way, and looking up into the sky, admiring the graceful flight of the wyverns when trouble strikes.  She had been so busy looking up that she forgot to look down, and her foot caught the edge of a cliff into a small ravine.   In a second, she found herself falling down the side of the ravine, too surprised to try to use her power to save herself, and after a moment more, it became moot as she felt a blunt pain on her skull, and the world went black.

**

  Wendy awoke with a throbbing headache, and an even more throbbing pain in her ankle.  She looked down, and it was obvious that it was broken.  However, it was also wrapped tightly.  As she came to her senses, she looked around and realized that she was not at the bottom of the cliff, but was instead in a small cabin.  It was fairly neat and tidy, and looked to be fairly comfortable.  Before she could begin to wonder about her rescuer, the door opened and a young girl, maybe 10 years old walked in carrying a load of firewood.  She was a bit thin, as if she had not had enough to eat, but had a happy, open face framed by long golden blonde hair.

   “Oh, you’re awake.  I was worried about you.  You didn’t look too good when I found you in the bushes outside” the girl said.

   “Oh, you found me?” Wendy replied, still a touch groggy.

  “Yes”, the girl responded with a smile.  “My name is Ilysa, what’s yours?”

  “Um.. Wendy.  Where are your folks Ilysa?”

   Ilysa hesitated a second, then replied “Um, they are gone”

  “Oh, when will they get back?” Wendy asked.

  “You don’t understand.  They got sick last spring”

  “So you’ve been here alone all this time?”

  “Yes, I’m really good at taking care of the house, I had to learn when mama got sick. And I’m not a bad cook, and I can hunt and trap a little bit, and I know where to find all the roots and berrys that are good to eat.  I even had a little garden this last year.  Though it does get a little lonely by myself.  Wendy, will you be my friend?”  After Ilysa says this, she coughs a bit, having been out in the cold.

   Wendy knew she wasn’t going anywhere for a while with her ankle the way it was, but even without that, she knew she would have stayed with this girl.  “Yes Ilysa, I’ll be your friend”
 

  It had been two weeks already since Wendy had “fallen” into Ilysa’s life, and Wendy could not help but marvel at the life and the spunk that the little girl showed. When she had said before that she was good at taking care of a house and all that, she hadn’t been kidding.   Wendy still wasn’t able to get up and around much, but Ilysa kept the house clean and warm, with plenty of firewood, and was always able to find more than enough food for the both of them.
 
 Yet, what impressed Wendy more than Ilysa’s abilities to do all of these things, was her spirit.   A 9 year old girl being forced to live alone in the middle of nowhere, she was still able to keep a bright, sunny outlook on life.  Yet, in other ways, Ilysa’s long time alone was obvious.

   One night, Wendy was lying in her cot when Ilysa came up and sat down next to Wendy.  Wendy put her around the young girls shoulder and could just feel how much warmth and comfort Ilysa took from someone being there for her.  Finally, she looked up at Wendy “Would you please tell me a story?” between nagging coughs that she just had not been able to shake.
 

  “A story hm?  Give me a moment to think.   Okay, yeah.   Once upon a time, there was a man.  He was a soldier for a far away country.  And there was a woman, she had lost her parents too, just like you.  She had loved a soldier before, but he had gone away. This is the story of what happened to them…”

   After a time, Wendy could feel Ilysa’s breathing change, and she looked down and saw the girls chest gently rising and falling in sleep.  Wendy smiled and leaned back, knowing somehow that this was where she belonged.
 

As the winter passed, Wendy and Ilysa’s life grew more and more into a comfortable, happy pattern.  One day, about 2 months after Wendy had come to the small cabin in the mountains, she was able to get around quite a bit better, and had begun to take a hand in keeping things up.    She was walking toward the cabin, wrapped in a heavy woolen cloak, carrying a pile of firewood for the cabin, through knee deep snow.

   Suddently, she felt a “thwap” in the side of her face,. She dropped the wood, and saw Ilysa standing there making another snowball. Without thinking, Wendy dropped her load of firewood and grabbed Ilysa, dumping her into a snow bank.  “So, you think you are gonna get me huh?”. Even as she said it, she made a noise that many that knew Wendy were not familiar with. She laughed.  Not a wry laugh, a sarcastic laugh, but just a pure, simple joyful laugh.  After they wrestled around a bit, they stopped to rest, and then Wendy showed Ilysa how to make snow angels.

**

  Later that night, Ilysa was a kind of tired and flush from the exertion in the snow, and coughing, so Wendy inisisted she get to sleep early.

  “Okay, only if you tell me more of the story” the young girl responded.

  “Of Course”.  Now where was I?” Wendy mused.
 
   “You were telling me about the bad guys plan!”

   “Oh, of course. Well, he was very angry and the world, so the dark sorcerer decided to destroy the world by having a giant meteor shatter the planet”

   “meteor?” the girl asked.

   “Oh, a big rock that flies in and hits the world”  Wendy answered.

   “No mage is that powerful!” Ilysa cried out with a happy little squeak.

  “Oh, you might be surprised” Wendy replied with an enigmatic smile as she continued her story.
 

That night, Wendy sat quietly as Ilysa snored quietly in her bed.  She still wasn’t sure who or what had led her to come here, to this world, to this house, but deep down, she thanked whoever it was.  Her young friend had a joyous spirit that was amazing under the circumstances, and was a joy to be around.  Wendy could not put into words how much her young friend had meant to her life.  Even so though, she couldn’t help but think about the others, the others she had left behind. She hoped they understood.  Especially Iris and Kagami, alone in the world after losing Aeryn.  Yet, they weren’t alone, not really.

  She lay back in her bed, when again the night was disturbed by the sound of Ilysa’s cough.  The nagging cough she had for months just wasn’t going away.  Wendy had checked her condition before, but she decided to do so again.  As soon as she did though, she froze.   Clear as day, she could tell that Ilysa’s lungs were filling with fluid.  A feeling of helplessness flooded into Wendy.   She had no real powers over life. Enough to see if someone was healthy, but that was it.  But she knew that Ilysa needed help, and needed it now.  Aeryn could heal her with barely a thought, but Aeryn was not on this world, in fact, she was dead.  She could go for help, but she didn’t know where to go, if anyone on this backwards planet could help for that matter. She also didn’t want to leave her alone, as she went on a days long trip searching for help that might not be there.

   In desperation, Wendy tried to channel healing energy into Ilysa, but that feat, which she had seen Aeryn, Enaris and others accomplish so many times was so far beyond her understanding or ability that she didn’t really have a chance.  Still though, she didn’t give up, again and again, she tried to find that strength within her self.  The night went on, minute after minute, hour after hour, and still she tried, pushing herself in ways she never had before, but still nothing.

*** the next morning, Ilysa woke up with a coughing fit, but looked down on the floor and saw Wendy at the side of her bed, where she had collapsed from exertion and exhaustion.
 

 Over the next few days, Ilysa’s condition continued to go downhill.  Every breath became a battle in itself, the life giving air only flowing into her lungs accompanied with much wheezing, and a constant wracking cough.  Wendy hovered over her bed, doing everything she could for the child, but knowing that it wasn’t enough, not near enough.

 Between bouts of coughing, the child looked up to Wendy with a small, plaintive smile “Thank you Wendy”

 “Thank you? Thank you for what?” Wendy answered, in a tone dripping with grief.

  “Everything.  You’ve been a great friend.  I’m very glad you were here. It was so lonely.  And.. it’s been good to have you here now.  I don’t want to be alone now”  The little girl put her hand on Wendy’s hand.  “Don’t be so sad.  I’ll be with mommy and daddy soon, and I’ll get to tell them about the great person I met”  After another burst of coughing, the young girl lapsed into a tortured, uneasy sleep.

  As Ilysa dropped into sleep, Wendy kissed her lightly on the forehead, saying in a soft voice “I’ve met someone very special too. A little angel”.  With that, she feel silent, and through her tears watched the tortured rising and lowering of Ilysa’s chest, as she fought for every breath.  Sometime overnight, Wendy would never be sure just what time it was, the wheezing of her breathing stopped, and so did the movements of her chest.  Wendy sat there numbly, thinking about the joy of the last few months with this remarkable child, who was at the same time both a friend, and almost a daughter to her.

  After a few hours, Wendy went outside, and started digging.  When she was finished, she gently carried Ilysa’s body out to the grave, and laid it into it’s eternal rest.   She had dug the grave next to a large rock, and placing her hands on that rock, it began to change. No longer a plain dusty brown rock, it slowly became the purest pink marble, and it morphed into the shape of a headstone. On the top though, was a small statue of a child with golden blonde hair and angel wings.  Wendy didn’t know what people would think when they found the grave, but she really didn’t care.  Where many would have thought of Ilysa as a dirty little peasant orphan girl, Wendy knew better.

   With that, Wendy picked up her pack, and started down the road.  She still wasn’t sure why she had been led to be here, but she now knew part of it.  To be there for a little girl who had needed her.
 

   After leaving Ilysa’s little cabin, Wendy soon rejoined the path she had set out upon months before.  Soon, the path dropped out of the mountains and she found herself walking on a large, open plain cut by a river.  She kept close to the river, not only to have a ready source of water when she needed it, but also for the concealment that the scrub brush, rushes and occasional tree offered.

    She stayed on that path for a number of days, still not sure where she was going, but having that same sense of being “led” that had brought her to this world to begin with..  In the distance, she saw a pillar of smoke, and as she got closer, her nose revealed it was not the gentle smell of a cookfire, but it had a darker, more vile note to it.  From some of her own experiences in paradox, she had a sickening feeling that she recognized the smell.

   Soon, she was sure she recognized what the smell was.  She crested a small rise, and there below her was a villiage. Or, more properly, what used to be a village.  The buildings were still smouldering, but whoever had done this was nowhere to be seen.  The bodies were spread out through the village, showing clearly that whoever had lived here had no idea what was coming.  Just a glance at the bodies though told the tale.  Here, an arrow stuck out of one mans back, there, the sort of split in the skull that a battleaxe would make.  Then there were the children.  Wendy just turned her face from them, not wanting to think about what had been done to them.  Finally, she came upon a little rag doll, with black horsehair on her head and a little red dress.  Overwhelmed by the misery, she just screamed out, startling the birds and the animals that were around.  Without a thought, she put the little doll in her pack, a reminder of what she had seen.

  After one last check, to be sure there were no survivors, she trudged onward again.  Her numb sadness being replaced by a cold fury.  She didn’t know if she would get the chance, but she knew that whatever had come to this place would have to pay.  And she did not expect the fee to be light when she took it out of their hides.
 

After she left the burnt out villiage, Wendy continued on, following the river bed.  She was able to surprise herself a couple of times by catching a fresh trout dinner.  She had never been much of one for fishing, but it was amazing what a little bit of hunger would do to your motavation.  She kept on that path for a week, getting footsore and tired of her journey, but not having any better idea what she should be doing.

  Finally, early one morning, she saw smoke on the horizon once again. This time though, it was the lighter, more dispersed smoke that spoke of a town making breakfast more than anything.   She hurried on her way, hoping to find a hint as to what was going on.  As she got closer, she was able to make out more of the town. “Town” was really a generous term for it.  It was a small cluster of buildings surrounded by a wooden rampart, with a large corral for livestock to one side.  As she gazed at the town, her eyes caught a glint of something in the far distance. She looked more closely, using her control of light to be a better sense of what was out there, and drew in her breath sharply.   In the far distance, she could see a little pack of horsemen forming up to attack the village.  She hurried to the village, hoping that she might not be too late.

  The horsemen were faster than she was though, and by the time she got close enough to the village to do anything, they had already managed to sieze the crude gateway that served as a door through the rampart, and they were ready to ride into the town to do what they had done before.  Wendy was really too far away still to do much of anything to the attackers, but she knew that she had to stop them.

     She concentrated, and a thunderbolt ripped out of the clear blue sky, landing right in the midst of the raiders, throwing several off of their horses.   In a voice louder than the thunders, she cried out “LEAVE THIS PLACE, BEGONE!”, and her message rolled off of the low hills that bordered the riverside.

   The raiders started to cry out “She’s a witch! She’s a witch!”, and began to form up once again, not to charge the town, but to charge her.

   In a wry, angry tone, Wendy muttered to herself “Actually, I weigh quite a bit more than a duck…”.   She waited for the horseman to get themselves all formed together, when she formed a fireball in her hand, and threw it into the midst of their formation.  The screams of the raiders confirmed to her that her aim had been true, and soon, the raiders, their resolve gone, and their trousers soiled had turned, and ridden off over the plains.

   As Wendy staggered down to the village, exhausted by the effort of casting the magic, and the sheer nervous energy of the confrontation, a tall man approached her. He seemed well dressed for the locals, and Wendy figured he was maybe the village chieftain or the like.  “What do you think you are doing girl?  You know now they will be back with even more strength!  You just doomed our town!”

   Wendy was barely able to keep her temper from going totally out of control, and responded in even, measured tones “It would have been destroyed anyway. I’ve seen what they do when they attack a villiage.  All dead, the men, the women.. the children” she continued, in a voice verging on sobs.

  “Fine, but what are you gonna do, just wander off and let us take the pain of what you did?” the chieftain screamed.

  “No. If you will let me, I will remain here to help you”. Wendy responded, with a strange sense of fulfillment within her.

   “Fine witch woman, You can stay.  It’s not like we can stop you anyway”. The chieftain said as he stomped off.

  The crowd of villagers around was a mixed bag. Many, she could see, felt like the chief.  Others looked at her with a sense of awe.  However, only one stepped out to speak with her.  He was a short man, maybe 5'5”, and had a stocky muscular frame.  His black hair was cut short, and he wore a heavy leather apron.   “I would like to thank you, Mage… what did you say your name was?”

  “Wendy, my name is Wendy”

  “Well, Mage Wendy, I would like to thank you.  My name is Tomas”
 
 

 “No, no reason to call me “Mage” Wendy, just call me Wendy, that’s fine by me.

  “Are you sure? You know what the guild will say if people don’t speak of you with the title” Tomas asked, a slightly confused look on his face.

  “Guild? What guild?”

   “The Mage guild, even if you don’t belong to it, which you obviously don’t by your costume, surely you know of it?”  Tomas pressed.

  “No, I’m sort of new here” Wendy answered.

  Tomas looked at her closely.  “I see that now… you have traces of, somewhere else about you.  Where ARE you from?”

   “Huh, what?” Wendy asked.  “Um, from somewhere else. Um, hey how did you know?  Wait a second, you are a mage also” Wendy said, as she sensed the power of prime within him.  “Are you a member of this ‘guild’”?

  “Oh, no. There is a separate guild for mage-smiths which I belong to.  I’m sorry for being so nosy.  Tell you what, lets go get something to drink, and we can talk there.”

  “Okay, that sounds good”.

  Tomas led her to a small inn, with a small pub attached.  It was a sturdy little wood building, with faded red hangings on the walls to spruce up the place a bit.  “Will ale do?” he asked “We just don’t have a great selection this year.”

  “Ale will be fine” Wendy said, looking around, wondering what Bronwyn at her favorite place would think of this one.
 
  After a few moments, the waitress appeared with their ale, and Tomas started to speak.  “I’m sorry about the reaction you got from the others.  They are scared, and they think that fighting back will make things worse.”

  Wendy sighed “It can’t…. there is no worse than what they do”  she said, shaking her head.

  Tomas responded “I suspect you are right, but convincing them of that will take some time.”

  “Who were they anyway?” Wendy asked

   Tomas took a deep drink of his ale and leaned back in his chair.  “Now, that is a long story. The short form is that they are the Juranah, the people of the plains.  Usually they are peaceful cattle herders. It used to be that we had a lively trade with them.  We would sell them grain, and trade goods that came up the river, and they would sell us cattle and leather products.”

  “I take it something changed” Wendy asked with a distant look in her eyes.

   “Always. There are always a few who would rather take someone elses than make their own, and the Juranah have always had a streak of that.  It used to be though that the Counts of Ravenspeak would keep them under control enough that they would not be a problem. “

  “Ravenspeak?” Wendy asked in confusion.

  “Oh it’s a castle high in the mountains back in the direction you came from.  It’s a long way away, but we are still part of it’s territory.  The Counts always used to be very good, and very responsible towards their people.  That is until Count Michael.  His only concerns in life were barmaids and booze.” Tomas said, lifting is cup ironically.  “He let the Juranah begin to get a bit more aggressive.  However, he is gone now, thrown out by one of his ministers.  In some ways, this one is even worse.  All he cares about is the tax money, and all the river towns out here are too small to pay enough taxes to get him to pay attention.  So now, we are on our own.  What makes it worse is that in the last few months, the Juranah have gotten even worse.  We have heard hushed whispers of a new war leader, a giant woman with flaming red hair who throws fire. She wasn’t here before of course, but when they come back, I suspect she will be.”

   “Don’t worry, I will be too. I’m looking forward to meeting her in fact”, Wendy said with a steely look in her eyes.
 
 

  As the next few days passed, Wendy began to notice a difference in the way that the townspeople looked at her.  The men in town, they looked at her with a mix of fear and distrust. However, the women, they seemed always to be looking away, yet at the same time glancing quick peeks in her direction.  The children were very different though, as they were fascinated by this strange woman who had come into their town. As often as not, Wendy had packs of the little rugrats on her tail as she went about the town.

   Finally, after a few days, Wendy decided to go ask Tomas about it.  Tomas was still the only person in town who seemed truly comfortable with her, so she found herself spending more time with him than anyone else.  He had a small smithy at the edge of town.  His yard was filled with various iron implements, some that had evidently been left there to be fixed, others that were good for nothing more than scrap metal.  She stepped in, and found Tomas hard at work over his forge.

  After Tomas had a chance to step away from the forge, and take a short break, he went over to Wendy.  He offered her a glass of water, and they sat down on a table out on what passed for a porch to his house.

  Wendy explained the strange looks that she had been getting, and Tomas only laughed.  “Don’t you see?  It’s your self confidence that is bugging getting all of the attention.”

  “Self confidence? Me?”  Wendy asked, with her usual doubts and fear creeping into her voice.

  “Yes, you.  You walk through here as if you were as good as any man here.  The men find that a bit unsettling” Tomas laughed.

  After a moment, Wendy chuckled.  “I think I see what you mean. I come from a place that is very different than this.”

  With a wry look in his eye, Tomas responded “I had noticed.”

  After a bit, Wendy asked, “How long do you think it will be before those raiders come back?”

   Tomas considered for a moment, closing his eyes in thought, then looked up “Well, I would guess it will be probably 3 months.  Now, don’t be so surprised.  The now know they will need to make a serious effort to take this little town.  For them to go to that much trouble, it will have to be worth their while.  That means that they won’t come until after the crops are harvested, so they can haul that off after they kill us.  Or at least that is what they will plan”.

  Wendy nodded, “I guess that makes sense, though I would hope we keep an eye out before that. Still though, it gives us some time to prepare”.

  “Speaking of which,” Tomas replied “Would you like to help me here?  I’ve begun making swords and the like, and I could use the help.  I’ll teach you what I know about materials.”

  “Um, sure, that sounds good. Though I’m not sure I’m really cut out for smithing.”

  “Oh, there are more ways to do it, I can already see that you have some skill with materials though.” Tomas replied.

**

 Later that day, Wendy found herself wearing one of her old pair of jeans and a T-shirt that she had with her, and a heavy leather apron, standing in the smithy.

  “Now, Wendy, the best way to learn materials is not just to do it magically, as you have up to now.  You can learn as much about it, or more even, by doing it the old fashioned way, by beating the living tar out of it” Tomas chuckled. “Seriously though, you actually do better work if you work it with your hands and your mind, than with just your mind alone. “

  “Oh, beat the living tar out of it? You mean with this?” Wendy said, as she hefted a large sledgehammer up to her shoulder with one hand.
 
 “Hey! You are cheating!” Tomas laughed.  With that, he began to explain to her the way of metals even as he worked on a sword.  He took an old plow blade, that was half rusted, and between the ancient arts of the smith, and his own power, by the end of the day he had a sword that would have made  the Knights of the Round jealous.

  “And they shall beat their plowshares into swords” Wendy thought with a sigh, even as she learned things that she had never even considered.
 

 As the days passed, Wendy began to fall into a routine.  Every morning, she would climb to the top of the crude wooden rampart, and look out over the hills, for signs of any attackers. After that, she would go back down to the little cabin she had been given, and eat some dried fruit and oatmeal.  Then, she would go to the smithy, where she would both learn from Tomas, and work with him.

  One day, about a week after she started at the smithy, she found that Tomas was not at his forge, but instead was out in his yard with several of the young men of the village.  He had one of the swords he had made in his hand, and was trying to teach the others how to use it.   From the way he handled the sword, it was clear that he was no stranger to it.  While Wendy doubted he could have beaten Yurusu or someone like that, there was no doubt that he knew what he was doing.

   Later that day, the two of them went to the tavern for lunch.  As they ate their beef stew, Wendy asked “Tomas, I didn’t know you could use a sword, when did you learn that?”

   “Well, I was in the Count’s army way back when. Not as a soldier mind you, but I did my apprenticeship as a smith there.  But, even the smiths had to learn the basics of how to use a sword without killing ourselves.”

  “Oh?” Wendy went on “then what brought you way out here?”

  “Well, when I completed my apprenticeship in the army as a mage smith, I was able to muster out with a bit of cash. Enough at least to buy a small smithy. Well, the smith guild keeps track of where smiths are needed, and the old smith in this little town had just died, so it worked out well.  I like it here.  It may not have the excitement of the larger towns, but it’s just, comfortable I guess.  It’s not perfect though. I’ve been here for 8 years, and I’m still the outlander to a lot of people.  Even if they trust me to fix their plows and shoe their horses, there are other things they won’t trust me with…” Tomas said with a sigh.

 ***

 Later that day, Wendy was working at the forge, and decided to try something.   She took a piece of raw, black wrought iron, and beat it into the shape of a dagger.  After hardening it, she took it back home.  That night, she stayed up late, well past anyone in the village.  She crouched over the black dagger, and slowly but surely pumped raw, magical energy, prime if you will into it.  Finally, she fell asleep, nearly dawn exhausted from her efforts.  However, sitting on the table, was a black iron dagger, that didn’t shine, but just sat there, with the dull, dead sheen of a cast iron skillet, but yet, there was something about it as well that seemed a bit, uncanny.
 

  The next two months passed quickly, as Wendy and Tomas made swords and shields for the villagers, and Tomas taught them as best they could how to defend themselves.  In time, Wendy could see that more and more of the people of the town were accepting her, though the hooded look in many sets of eyes told her that a number thought that she would bolt and run at the first sign of trouble.  Those looks hurt Wendy far more than she ever let on to anyone, even Tomas.  She knew herself, and her own history far too well, but she also knew that she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Wendy found that she felt like she had known Tomas her whole life.  Their friendship deepened, and she found herself able to talk with him about almost anything.  Tales of her home, and her friends, and other things. He was a willing listener, and always there for her.

  It turned out though, that Tomas was right about the raiders. The harvest had barely been in the sheds for a day when they returned.  It was a warm morning, predicting an even hotter day, just after the turn of midsummer.  Wendy, as was her habit had gone up to the top of the ramparts to look out at the horizon. Usually, she saw fields of grain and grass, and maybe a few cattle, or even deer or antelope out on the plains.  Today though, she saw something very different.  Distant on the horizon, was a pack of horseman, over 100 it seemed, and they looked ready for a fight.  Using her powers over light, she was able to get a closer look, and saw at their head a tall woman with flaming red hair and a spear in her hands.  Wendy wasted no more time, and ran down off the wall calling out the alarm.  The village was a scene in bedlem, as the early risers left their plows and livestock to grab their swords, while the rest of the village looked out of their windows sleepily, trying to figure out what the commotion was, before the truth jarred them awake.

   Soon, the men of the village had mounted their rampart and looked out at the onrushing horde.  There were maybe 20 men armed with swords, and some of them were little more than boys. A few others stood atop the walls with bows, but no matter how you looked at it, they were outnumbered, badly.  Wendy and Tomas stood near the gate.  As Tomas was the only man in the whole town who had ever been in the army, he had been appointed “commander”, and Wendy stood by, ready to do what was needed.  She was dressed in the same trader’s outfit she had been wearing the day she came here, and in a small hip pocket was the doll she had found in the burnt out town.  “Not here, not now, not ever” she said in a soft, but ice cold voice.

  Soon the battle was joined, and in some ways, Wendy had never seen a scene quite like it.  She had seen Archon, and been in the Chaos Realms, but although those things were much more terrifying, in some ways they didn’t compare to this.   The fight seemed to become a blur, as the bandit horseman would charge the town, and arrows would fly from the walls.  Over here, Tomas was fighting with a bandit, over there, a young man would fall under the hooves of the attackers.  Through it all, Wendy kept taking her shots with beams of burning light cutting through any foe she could get a clear shot at.  Yet, it seemed for every lance of laser light that she would shoot forth, a fireball would strike the town from the red haired woman.  She saw a young man from the village, who looked like he should be holding a hoe, and not a sword stagger off the wall, bathed in flame.  With that, Wendy knew that she had no choice, that she would have to confront the other mage directly.

   She strode out into the field before the town, almost contemptuously destroying any riders who tried to get between her and her target.  The other mage saw her and grinned, a wild, maniacal grin, of one who lived for combat, and was hoping that finally they had found a worthy foe.

   Soon, as the two women began their duel of magic, the rest of the battle slowed to a halt, as everyone, raider and villager, murderer and farmer were stunned at the clash of forces that was going on.  The red haired mage pointed her spear at Wendy, and a wave of fire gushed from the tip, flowing and changing shape as it flew.  Wendy though, just held up a hand, and the fire flowed around her, scorching the grass as it flowed off her shields.  Wendy fired a burst of laser light at the other mage, but she likewise was able to shield it away from her body.   On and on they went, the whole scene as something out of a nightmare, as fire and light, heat and cold, thunder and lightning rolled over the battlefield.  The red haired mage laughed with a maniacal glee, and fire danced in her eyes.  Wendy though, was cold, precise as she tried to deal with the other.

  Even as it seemed though that the duel would go on all day and all night, one of the raiders ran from behind and caught Wendy behind the head with mace.  It was only a glancing blow, but it was enough.  Pain shot through her head, and she staggered to her knees, with stars dancing before her eyes.   Distantly, she saw the man with the mace fall, with Tomas’ sword sticking out of his belly.  However, Wendy was not able to notice that, as she felt her whole body erupt with pain, as a wave of flame from the red haired mage engulfed her.  Vainly, she tried  to raise a shield, but the smell of charred flesh was enough to tell her that the damage had been done.  Through her pain and her tears, she saw the woman striding towards her, a look of inhuman glee on her face as she raised her spear for the killing blow.

   As Wendy lay there, time almost seemed to stand still. Through her pain, she was able to reach to the small of her back, and pull out a dagger, black as night.  With all the strength she could muster, she threw it at the red haired mage.  The victorious red seemed to laugh as she raised a shield to stop this last feeble attack from her beaten foe.  However, the dagger was not stopped by the shield.  It passed straight through and lodged itself right into the chest of the other woman, and she fell to the ground with a look of utter shock on her face.  But, even as the other woman fell to the ground, her fall was echoed by Wendy, who collapsed into the ground and saw nothing more.
 
 
 

 Wendy awoke with a splitting headache, but that was the least of the pain.  Her entire body felt like it was still burning.  As she looked around, she saw that she was back indoors.  Tomas sat at her bedside, a cool cloth in his hand, wiping down her head.  His arm was bandaged, but didn’t seem to be giving him much trouble.

  “Tomas..” Wendy croaked in a weak voice.

  “Don’t worry, they’re gone, it’s all over. Now, don’t speak Wendy.”

  Ignoring that, Wendy asked “How is everyone?”

  Tomas sighed, and answered “We lost 5, a couple of other are badly wounded, and mosmt everyone else has scrapes and bruises.  Still though, the village is safe, and we have you to thank for it.”

  “And her? The mage?” Wendy asked.

  “I’m not sure, it looked like she was dead, but her people grabbed her body as they fled.  Now, rest Wendy, and let your body heal.”

  With that, Wendy lay there a moment, then fell back into a deep sleep. When she awoke, hours, even days later, she saw that Tomas was still there at her bedside, watching her.

**

 As the next few days went on, Wendy slowly regained her strength, and after nearly a week, she was finally able to get out of bed and go out into the village.  Most of the damage had already been repaired, though there were a few spots that showed burn marks from the fires the other mage had thrown. The biggest change though was in the way that people treated her.  As she passed, people nodded their heads to her, not out of fear, or out of some obscure judgement, but out of thanks.  Finally, even the town chief, who had shown such disdain for her when she first came came and was able to offer his heartfelt apology, and thanks.

**

  As time went on though, that feeling returned to Wendy, the feeling that she had somewhere else she had to be. Though, this time, it was not a vague “somewhere” but she knew where she was supposed to go.  The only problem though, was that she really wasn’t sure how to do it.  Finally, she went to Tomas with her problem

  “Tomas.  It’s been wonderful here, and I really feel like I belong, in ways I never have before. But… it’s hard to explain”
 
  “You have to go, don’t you?” Tomas said in a soft voice.

  “Yes, yes I do.  I have people I left behind, and I need to return.  I’m not sure what is driving me on, but I can feel it in the depths of my bones.” Wendy said.

  “I understand, one can not run from destiny, and when that feeling comes, we can but listen.  We’ll all miss you though.. I know I will” Tomas said sadly.

  “I’ll miss this place, and you as well. That is, if I can go. I don’t even really know how I got here, much less how to get back.” Wendy said.

  “Oh, that’s not a problem.  I haven’t talked about it too much, you know my power with Matter, but that’s not my only skill.  I can send you back, the feeling of where you come from is very strong, and getting stronger.” Tomas said slowly.  “Just give me a day or so to prepare.”

**

That night, the village held a grand feast for Wendy, and it was a wonderous night, of singing and dancing, and feasting and all that is good.  Yet, there was a sadness too.  Wendy truly felt at home here, and felt something else, deep within her, but she wasn’t sure what it was.  Tomas on the other hand sat at his seat, saying little, but a slightly sad look in his own eyes as well.

  The next day, Wendy came to Tomas’ shop, and Tomas was there ready for her.  “It’s all ready.  Just step into the circle there, and you can go home”

  “Tomas,  thank you. Thank you for everything you have done.” With that, Wendy hugged him tightly. Finally, she let go, and kissed Tomas once, lightly on the cheek.  With that, she stepped into the circle, and Tomas finished his spell, and in a gleam of wavering light, Wendy was there no more.

[the end… for now]