Cold needles of water prick my face as air rushes through my lungs. I groan. Opening my eyes, I remember my wound from-how long ago was it? I look to my left where there's my injured shoulder- bandaged.

    Did the man-child bandage it? Remembering him, I look around. Rain- yes, rain; beautiful, beautiful rain-splashes my face and I hear a gurgling stream nearby. No one is near, but I hear two voices a little further down the woods. Shivering, I push myself off the ground and drag myself towards the voices.

    "...You should have heard her voice, Tristus. It was as clear and as powerful as an elf's. And her eyes are an odd yellow-green hue, but they look as if she's been through so much. I believe she's been locked up in that mansion all her life, lad." Says a familiar voice.

      "And who be she, though?" Chuckles another voice of similar sound, yet slightly more rugged.

      "She said one, no, two things before she passed out: 'I am Kataigida Vrochisdaughter' and 'Help me'." Replies he.

      Mustering all my courage, I step into the clearing. The man-child, with curly dirty-blonde locks and honey brown eyes, looks up at me. The other voice came from a man probably a year or two into manhood. He looks up as well and I stifle a gasp as I look into startling blue eyes and rugged facial features framed by hair nearly as black as mine.

      We spend a full minute analyzing each other warily. Suddenly, in one swift motion, Tristus rises and strides over to me.

      "I'm Tristus, and this is my brother Mika." He says, gesturing in the general direction of the man-child. "Does your shoulder hurt?"

      Curious myself, I roll my shoulder around. I grimace, but it doesn't hurt too much so I don't complain. "Do you mind if I remove the bandage?" He asks. I shake my head "no".

      Tristus gently removes the blood-soaked bandage and purses his lips with worry. I try to turn my head but Tristus stops me.

      "I wouldn't look if I were you," He warns.

      Afraid of what will happen if I disobey Tristus' orders, I study Mika. Eventually, he quails under my gaze. I turn my attention back to Tristus and I catch him muttering words in an elegant language.

      Listening more intently, I try to make out the words:

Altri shona fjui,

Costra frezh mei,

Slithri sona kenh.

      Concentrating ever harder, something clicks in my mind and I find myself translating each word:

Come and save,

Heal this Wound,

Mend the left shoulder.

      I realize Tristus was using magic as the skin around my wound starts to itch and then seal itself back together.

      "There," Says Tristus warmly.

      I reach up to itch my shoulder but Tristus once again stops me. I look at him with inquiry and he just gives me a warning look. I divert my attention from my itchy shoulder and catch Mika staring at me. He looks down awkwardly and stirs a pot of what I assume is stew. I lick my lips hungrily.

      "I think the stew is done, Tristus." He says, not noticing my hungry stare.

      "Good. Give Kataigida some," Tristus commands as he notices how frail I am. Mika hands me a bowl and I ravenously slurp it up. Mika chuckles amusedly, but Tristus just continues to silently study me.

      They may be brothers, but they are still nothing alike.

      Mika's soft eyes sparkle warmly, but there is not much depth to them. Tristus' eyes are cold and calculating; he is obviously of superior intelligence.

      Suddenly a cold and dark presence enters my mind. Curiously, I pry into the presence and hear one thought before I am pushed out: Who are you? Frightened, I concentrate on an image of the rough clay bowl in my hand and the presence disappears. I look up at Tristus and his hard blue eyes sparkle as he frowns, lost in contemplation.

      Realizing who the presence was, I look even closer at Tristus. He is kind, I decide, but he has been through much, like I have.

      After a long silence, Tristus asks, "Crouche sihle zhem?"

      After a moment of translating, I am compelled to answer, "Ohnmei-juü crouche crese slido-sheche eukuh." Someone who has nothing to lose.

      Mika pales. Tristus grins ghoulishly.