Amber Shards

Chapter 3:

Guardians

By

Michael Liebhart

Let me bring you songs from the wood:

to make you feel much better than you could know.

Dust you down from tip to toe.

Show you how the garden grows.

Hold you steady as you go.

Join the chorus if you can

Jethro Tull - Songs from the wood 1977

Storm cloud rolled across the sky and threatened rain, but she did not care.  The trees would welcome it as they always did and nothing would spoil the day.  As she ran through the forest, her green hair flew behind her.  Only thin gauzy material, vines and leaves graced her fine young form.  She spied the great she-wolf, Chases-the Wind ahead; she knew that she approached the place of healing.

Hidden in the branches, she spied a man sitting cross-legged on the ground.  His coal black hair was unbound and blew about in the wind.  He dressed as he always did, in a combination of black, gray and silver. To her sylvan eyes his aura of power was evident.  She could feel a great sadness the he held within himself.  Though there was the repeated offer to comfort him and try and fill that sadness, he had always refused her, but never unkindly.  This continued to confuse her.  She wished that there were something she could do to make him truly happy.

"Andaria, I know you're there.   Quit being a mother hen and come on out.  The others have not arrived yet but will shortly." He turning his head in her direction, opened his eyes and looked at the place she was hidden, partially merged with a tree. 

Andaria was a wood nymph, a creature of the earth and was the oldest of those that had been called back the world.  The trees were her children.  The animals her kin. The land and she were one. 

The sylvan woman stepped out from the trunk of a huge pine in which she had partially merged, with the ease of a man stepping from a pool of water.  The tree seemed to move its branches back to allow her passage as she emerged from under is boughs.

The nymph walked into the open space with the grace of a ballerina.  Across the intervening gap was the other piece of the forest that had been calling to her woods.  Soon, very soon....   She looked at Ian sitting on the ground, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.  This usually meant he was irritated with something. 

"Something bothers you master?" 

"I really wish you would quit calling me that."  Ian sighed.  "I have a name.  Ian or Argent or something other than master.  I have never demanded mastery from you or your sisters."

Cocking her head to the side in an animal like fashion she regarded him quizzically.  "But master, you brought us back from our ancient slumber.  You returned our faded strength and power.  You have aided us in restoring the forests that men had sundered..." She stopped, recognized the expression on his face.  "Yes, I will endeavor to call you by name and remind my sisters of this as well."   She paused, and then, "Mas...Ian, are you sure that there is nothing I can do for you?  You are so...alone..."  Her voice trailed off.

Ian listened as she offered to alleviate some of his pain and loss.  He mentally shook his head and sighed inwardly.  He had brought the nymphs back into this world, literally conjuring them into existence.  He considered them like his children.  The thought of her 'comforts' always made him slightly uncomfortable.  Smiling in wry amusement at the situation, he looked to Andaria. 

"My dear, you worry more than any of your sisters, especially about me." Standing he took her hand.  "I am, by nature, moody and introspective.  That has never changed, no matter how many worlds I have visited, no matter how many people I help and no matter how many times I have been...comforted."

She smiled in return and nodded.  She was about to say something else when the others walked into the clearing, some from the west side, some from the east side.  Setting aside her concern for Ian, Andaria ran to her sisters.  The wood nymphs laughed and danced around each other.  They had waited for this moment for some time and now it was upon them. 

After Ian had called them back from their slumber he had sent them to the forests.  Some in the wood where he dwelt and the others several leagues away.  He had given them the strength to reawaken the hearts of the woods.  Once again it allowed them to commune with the trees, assisted to expand the forest, command the animals and call on their old powers. 

 From late spring to the summer what had been known as Buescher and Bastrop Parks, had been expanding.  Their borders had grown outwards and towards one another covering roughly ten mile of intervening space.  New and mystical creatures had begun to appear within them.  The birds and beasts had returned to a land free from poison and disease. 

As they had grown, the heart of both of the woods had called to one another.  The desire to be joined again was great.  To exist as they once had before man had reduced them to a piteous state. 

The warder-wolf, Laughing-Water, strolled over to Ian.  Of all his warders Laughing-Water was unique in his perspective.  He was more thoughtful than the others were, in that he contemplated things.  He was not the fastest or the strongest, but he was certainly clever.  He wasn't even a Beta-male amongst the wolves, but they respected his insights. 

Laughing-Water sat beside Ian and leaned against him.  He sent no distinct thought forms, just pleasure at watching the nymphs dance.  He could sense their joy and quietly shared in it.  Ian scratched him absently; this one was rapidly becoming one of his favorite warders.   Ian could never define the quality of their similarities; Laughing-Water just seemed to understand him more than any of the other warders.

The nymph's exuberance lessened and they approached Ian. 

"Are we all ready?" Andaria asked of everyone as she stepped forward.

There was a general consensus and they all moved towards the center of the strip that separated the two forests.  The wood nymphs formed a circle around Ian and Andaria.  Four of the warders took positions outside of the circle at the points of the four cardinal directions; north, south, east and west.  Lightning-in-the-Dark and Chases-the-wind the alpha male and female were there.  Dances-the-Moon and Great-Howl, the beta male and female attended as well.

The nymphs spoke low whispered words and began a slow dance around Ian and Andaria.  From a pouch around his neck, he pulled out what appeared to be a smooth dark stone the size of a hen's egg.  In truth it was a seed and a large one at that.  One especially enchanted for what was about to take place. 

Slowly a white fire danced around the conjurer.  It grew brighter and brighter and caused the nymphs to cast shadow even in the light of the overcast day.  The light began to draw together in the item he held between cupped hands till it grew to a dazzling brilliance and Ian glowed no more. He held the item out to Andaria.

 "Now it begins."  Andaria's voice was strong and clear.  It seemed in contrast to the slightly trembling fingers in which she took the glowing item.  With that she began to sing in a voice somewhere between human and bird song.  Ian backed slowly out of the circle as the ceremony continued.  He passed through the ring of dancing nymphs who glided around him.

He watched and understood the song in part.  It was a calling, a centering in this place.  Andaria turned and faced the east woods and held the palm full of brilliance towards it and sang, the she turned and repeated it to the west woods.  It was a kind of botanical marriage ceremony.  It would draw the two forests together and cause them to be one, body and spirit.

 Drawing her hands together Andaria lifted the light above her head and white fire spider webbed out to the dancing nymphs and the warders.  Its light faded till only their eyes glowed.

With a gesture a small hole opened at her feet.  She placed the large rowan seed into the ground and began a new song.  The new song had no words that resembled anything a human might recognize.  It was something closer to musical notes or the etheric sounds of the glass armonica.  Like that of a whetted glass rubbed by a finger to make it sing.  The nymphs began a new dance and joined in the singing as well.  The air in the clearing became liquid sound.

The wolves lifted their heads, howled and added their song to that of the nymphs.  The howls echoed through the forests being picked up and answered by the calls of other animals in a strange cacophony of sound and music. 

Through all of this Ian watched amazed.  He had known that this was part of the magic the nymphs wielded to enchant men and hold sway over them.  He was immune to this power, having harnessed his will beyond the point they could influence.  But through the lending of his power to them, he felt what they did.  They wielded very subtle magics, but now in a great quantity.  It stretched across and through both forests drawing their mystical centers of power to this place and tying it to the spot where the rowan seed was planted.

As he watched something stirred from the ground, a small green sprout.  Before his eyes it began to grow and soon was taller than Andaria.  Ian smiled in shared pleasure of the others.  Finally the forest would be one entity.

A shadow skulked through the forest and searched for his quarry. His movements through the woods disturbed none of it occupants.  This was due to the cloak he wore.  It was dirty gray with black trim adorned with dull silver runes of power.  When he wore it with the hood drawn up and he was invisible in both the mortal and spirit realms. His name was Barghest and he was an assassin, one who specialized in killing mystics.

His face was scarred and one of his eyes was a milky white, but seemed to not affect his vision at all.  On his forehead was the scar of a spiral that had been stained dark.

From the depths of the cloak he raised a gloved hand and bone wand.  He stopped and swung it back and forth, to sense the power that had risen in the Bastrop Park.  His...employers, were not happy that some new power has arrived unannounced and had 'set up shop' next door.

His commission was to find the centers of power, wrest control of them and kill those who got in his way.  The wizard who lived here was probably the one he would have to kill.  The family he had come across had confirmed what he knew.  The wizard's name was Argent and he was reported to be able to do all sorts of things.  Well he would soon see how great this wizard was.

A dark smile had blossomed on his face as he though of the family he had 'discussed' the wizard with.  He licked his dark stained lips and waved the wand his employers had given him back and forth.  It pulsed and drew his hand to the right.  "Damn!" Inwardly he snarled.  The source of power was on the move.  He had been advised that this might happen, a ceremony of sorts to consolidate power. Barghest had been told about it, but that it highly unlikely to be happening so soon.  "So much for the theories of sorcerers." he thought to himself.

He began to sprint through the forest now.  He had run for nearly a half an hour when he heard a howl.  Other animals echoed it and the sound rolled towards him as more beasts in the wood joined in.  It sent chills up his spine.  His instincts told him that if this weren’t stopped it would create something dangerous.

A second thought occurred to him.  This was an old power that seemed to have awakened, what if it had spotted him and all these creatures were preparing to attack in mass.  If so, he was dead.  Barghest froze and drew forth a short dark blade resembling a bowie knife.  Dark runes adorned the blade.  Black rune stones hung from thin leather thongs on the pommel of the blade.  He waited and nothing moved. 

After a time he sheathed the knife and concentrating on the wand, he moved it back and forth.  The 'center' had stopped moving and the wand vibrated with power.   The beasts had only been responding to the gathering of power and not his presence.  Barghest knew if he was to win his commission, he needed to hurry.

Laughing-Water had stopped momentarily and had added his howl to the song.  He then continued to walk.  He really wished he could be part of the ceremony, but the other warders were needed to patrol.  Though the chance of anyone stumbling upon the ceremony was remote, it still existed and if it were disrupted the results would be disastrous. 

He watched and opened all his senses so he could 'follow' the ceremony as well as watch the forest.  Since the coming of the wood nymphs he and the other warders had gained a mystical sense of their surroundings.  A connection to the forest they patrolled.  It was when he had done this that he felt something…wrong.  

Laughing-Water stopped and looked around.   He couldn't quite focus on it.  It was a feeling that smelled like the hint of rotting meat, sounded like music slightly out of key and flickered like shadow.  His hackles rose, as the feeling grew stronger and stronger.  Suddenly there was something to his right.  A shadow fell upon him and pain erupted in his side.

The assassin looked down at the wolf with some surprise.  He wiped his blade on its hide.  Somehow the beast had sensed him, but not quickly enough.  Fortunately it had been unable to raise a cry of alarm.  He could hear music very clearly now, he was close.  Its harmony churned revulsion within him.  Even if he had not been given this commission, he would have worked to stop this repulsive ceremony.

He took a gloved hand and pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing his bald scarred head.  Even with the hood drawn back he was he would still be shrouded but not as completely.  Barghest's instincts told him he would need to see his quarry clearly.

Moving quickly but silently he approached a break in the forest.  Before him green haired women danced about a single large tree.  One woman stood before it with arms spread wide above her head.  She was directing the music.  She was the focus of the power.  Instead of being awed he was repulsed at its sight.  If he could kill her, could wrest the power from them.  She was soft and would fall before him easily.

Slowly he moved forwards, knife drawn and slunk towards Andaria's unprotected back.

Ian watched as the Rowan tree grew higher and higher.  The four warders continued to hold their positions in the circle about the tree and help support the power of the ceremony.  This also would tie the warders into the matrix that the forest would become.

He marveled at the power Andaria was commanding.  In all of this, she had been his main concern.  He didn't know if she would be able to handle the amount of power that it was going to take to restore power to the forest.  She wielded power as if she were born to the Courts of Amber. 

He stifled a paranoid thought that she may be one of his relatives that had taken Andaria's shape.  No one with the power of Pattern in their blood could enter the surrounding realities that encompassed his exile. 

No, it was too soon for things like that to happen. 

He relaxed again and was completely unprepared for the blinding burst of pain that shot through his mind.  Ian staggered but he managed to keep on his feet.  After a moment his sight cleared.  

One of the warders had been hurt.  He had trouble trying to discern the identity of the warder.  They had attempted to contact him at the moment they were attacked.  Mired and buried in the pain was a message.  Danger! Intruder!

Fortunately the nymphs and other warders were unaware of the message.  They were too caught up in the ceremony.  It was nearing an end, but he wasn't sure how much long it would take. 

"Damn." He muttered.  "This is a bad time to have this happen."  He had lent the majority of his power and strength to the nymphs to draw the forest together.  He reached down and touched the high-tech looking bracer that he always had with him as either a bracer, small compact computer or other technical device.  "Celia, Pattern Lens." 

A two-dimensional labyrinthine shape seemed to form in his mind's his eye as a fragment of the power he had given up was manifested before him.  He had managed to capture this before he had nearly lost his mind.  It was the power that was the birthright of every child of The Courts of Amber.  He had forever purged it from himself, but with the fragment that his bio-computer Celia held, he could wield it to see enchantments and well as other manifestations of power.  

He blinked, looked around and began walking around the nymphs.  The sheer amount of power they were gathering and wielding here shone brightly through the Pattern Lens.  If there was some force or intruder that was using power to attack, he wasn't going to be able to pick them out very easily.

Taking a moment he sent a message out to the warders to be on the look out and begin to move closer to the center.  He had traversed half way around the circle from where he started when he saw a strange swirl in the energies moving out from the nymphs.  The wizard would have discounted it, except that it didn't move in the manner that rest of the energies had moved.  It would move forwards and stop and then continue on again. 

Ian probed the spot with his mind.  He detected nothing, but after a moment there was something; like a hint of bile at the back of his throat as if he had touched something exceptionally vile. 

As he got closer, the movement turned and began to approach rapidly.  On instinct he ducked and rolled.  He heard something sliced through the spot where he had been standing.  Before he could react he sensed the movement as it attacked again.  He dodged to his right, but he felt a stab of pain as something sliced his left thigh.  Damn!  Whatever it was, it was using very powerful enchanted weapons to pierce though the shielding he wore.

Rolling to his left he crouched low and spoke a trigger word.  Gealiann. The silver signet ring he wore bore the image of a single rose and showed his affiliation to the realm of Avalon, his father's kingdom.  But it was more than that, it was an item in which magical spells, conjuration and enchantments could be cast and stored for later use. 

With the trigger spoken, one of the waiting spell blossomed to life.  A blade of silver light flashed into existence in Ian's hand.  The assassin, unprepared for such an attack, was surprised as a blade of burning silver pierced his side.

The assailant spun away and roared in pain.  Ian took advantage of the attack and tried to assail the mind of this creature.

RAGE! HATRED!

MADNESS!!!

Ian mentally recoiled.  He had been in the mind of psychotic killers before, but usually he had been prepared and the subject most of the time was restrained.  The sheer ferocity and raw emotion this creature generated were impressive.  Something else was there too, making the mind to slippery to get a good hold on.  Whatever this was, the tempest in its mind could not be navigated in the middle of combat.

Though he could not assail it, he was able to keep a mental finger hold on the creature's mind to help keep track of it.  Whatever was keeping it hidden from sight may also have made it hard to get a better 'grasp'.

The creature snarled and...changed.  There was a sound like the popping of joints and the tearing of muscles.  Ian recognized the sound.  "Oh shit, it a shape changer."  Its outline in the whirling energies seemed to grow larger.  After a moment, it charged.

Ian was ready for the assault this time.  Had fought invisible opponents before, but wasn't especially trained in it, but the enchantments of the blade guided his hand.  As the two weapons met energies flashed again and again.

The wizard drew on all of his training he had received in Amber, Avalon and the number of worlds he had traveled to.  He feinted to the right and dropped his guard and the assassin took the opening.  Though Ian was fast the other was faster, seeming to gain a moment of blinding speed.  The amberite was rewarded with a cut on his left arm. 

Ian swore.  He had thought himself unassailable.  He was from the realm of Amber and Avalon.  He had one of the sharpest minds and had been one of the most gifted conjurers there.  Though not a great warrior there, he was head and shoulders above most here.  Even the librarian of the gods was greater "than mortal man", or so he thought.  He doubted that he fought anything human.

He managed another cut to the creature, but couldn't dodge it weapon fast enough and received a cut his right hip.

Ian began to feel lightheaded.  He took a defensive stance and dropped another trigger word.  Leigheas.  Warmth passed through his body, wounds closed, healed and the pain left. The slight dizziness he had felt did not. 

He glanced down quickly at himself.  Where the wounds had been, dark stains of magic stayed.  Not only stayed but continued to spread into his flesh.  This was serious!

The amberite dodged another slash and rolling back he dropped a unique spell of his own design.  Síceach. 

Though the Pattern Lens he could see the constructs appear.  These were creatures of pure mental energy.  They had no ability to affect physical objects, but they could affect the minds of others.  With a quick mental command SUBDUE, he sent them off after his opponent.

Barghest felt more than heard the buzz of the constructs as they began to assault his mind.  He crouched and leaped up and backwards.  He had made a deal to escape the voices, the spirits that been torturing him for years and now this...wizard had conjured up more!  He drew upon his dark powers and spoke words of power he had been taught.

Ian watched as the constructs began to assail the twisted mind of the attacker.  Then suddenly dark energies surrounded the creature, it spoke some guttural words and power was released.  The constructs were hurled back and torn to shreds by the force of the magic.

Ian was caught in the backlash of power due to the innate connection to his psychic creations.  He shook off the feedback, but when he looked up he lost track of his assailant.  Thunder rumbled and he felt a drop of rain.  He looked around and could see nothing.

He drew on what little power he had left, white fire danced here and there on his skin.  His ears rang and stars appeared before his eyes, but he ignored these.  He drew the power into his will and instincts.  Feeling a growing shadow he spun and in a moment spotted the whirling eddies that showed his attacker's location. 

Without thought, he threw himself to the ground and rolled to his left.  Dark shapes zipped through the air and tore into the area where he had stood a moment before.

He dropped another spell on the assassin.  Fálaigh.  The ground where it stood became alive, wrapped itself about him and hardened, trying to encase him like a bug in amber.

Barghest discovered that he was quickly being entombed.  He drew upon the dark gifts he had been given and spoke words of power.  With them, darkness was released that ate at the earth faster than it could encase him.  It looked as though the earth were rotting away.   With a bellow he shattered his bonds and brought up his abyssal blade just in time to keep the wizard's sword from taking off his head. 

The assassin thought to himself.  "This Argent is good, but not good enough." 

Barghest could tell the wizard was concerned; he had caught the scent of unease that last passing.  Drawing once again on his mystic nature he called power and then let his guard down to leave an opening.  The opportunity was not taken at first, but must have been sensed the second time and the silver blade moved to what should have been an unexposed area.  Barghest swung out with a hairy-clawed foot and just barely caught Ian in the side of the leg.  At the touch, the magic that the assassin had been holding hurled Ian over fifty feet away. 

Ian had worked to find a good opening try and weaken this thing.  He was running out of stored spells, and was definitely feeling the loss of his power.  Through his bond, he could feel the other warders returning, but they would not arrive in time.  He had never planned for such a combat.  The spells he had left were not suited for hand to hand.  They would end up destroying the nymphs and his warders.  The magic of the dark blade was also eating away at his strength and focus.

When he sensed the first opening a moment too late, but he felt he was getting a feel for predicting the movements of this creature.  Then it clipped his leg and he found himself hurtling through the air.  He was only stunned for a moment when alarms blared in the back of his mind.  On impulse he dropped another spell just in time. Iompar.

He had teleported about 100 feet backward.  Ian looked back at his previous position.  A smoking, bubbling morass existed where he had just been.  The creature had dropped some sort of ball of acid there.  He desperately wanted to look towards the tree to see where the ceremony was at, but he didn't want to draw the creature's attention that way.

The wizard spotted the creature quickly.  He almost didn't need the lens to show its location.  The assassin stood near the bubbling remains of its work.  Green light had begun to dance through the air about him.  The grass and shrubs in the area began to whither.  The hair on the back of Ian's neck began to stand up.  He understood the words that clawed through the air; it was the language of demons. 

Ian knew what was coming.  He summoned up all of the power of White Flame that he could draw and pushed beyond what he knew was a safe level and continued.  This he poured into the only foci he had available, the enchanted blade.

The wind grew stronger.  The light of the weapon burned brighter and brighter while the air blackened around the assassin.  With a word, a bolt of pure ebony rent the air.  Corruption poured across the distance striking the shaft of light.  Power exploded without a sound and Ian was driven to his knees by the force of it.

The assassin approached, his outline crackling with the backwash of power.  It danced and glowed on it, leaving footprints on the ground as well as skittering off of its blade.  Thunder rumbled, closer now.

Ian prepared for a final assault on this thing's mind.  He drew his last remaining strength as the thing closed the distance between them, when it was stopped by a word.

"Skindancer!" Andaria's voice was a whip crack in the silence. 

It spun in its tracks it turned to face her.

 Wind blew back the nymph's hair.  Power emanated from her like a heat haze.  Though not great in stature, she seemed to match the assassin's height. 

Barghest snarled.  He wiped drool from his muzzle with the back of a furred arm.  He dropped the veil of invisibility that had surrounded him and snarled in utter contempt at this frail creature.  The dark power surrounded him and would protect him from any earthy magics that this waif could produce.  "Time to die, leaf child."

"Spawn of darkness, you came here seeking power?"  Andaria's voice was as cold as an arctic wind.  "Then by all that is good, you shall have it."  Behind her the enormous Rowan seemed to flicker with an inner light and the heavens roared. 

In a moment the assassin realized his mistake as lightning struck, driving him to his knees.  Again it hit, knocking him to the ground.  Then one last time, setting Barghest temporarily ablaze.  The whole time he howled and called upon the darkness to save him, but to no avail.

Ian quietly watched the exchange.  Once the creature had uncloaked itself, he could feel it contempt and superiority.  Using the last of his strength he fanned these feelings into a blaze of overconfidence. 

With his will focused upon the creature the conjurer was temporarily blinded by the first lighting strike and backlash of pain from its mind.  Ian watched the fire die out and the carcass smolder.  The thing was not human, humanoid, but not human.  It seemed to be a combination between man and beast; covered with fur, clawed hand and feet and the face of some kind of dog or wolf.  He was having a difficult time staying focused.

Andaria ran across the intervening space, followed close behind by the warders and other nymphs.  She reached Ian, flung her arm about him and knocked him back to the ground once more.  Around him were laughter, tears, barks and howls of victory as the rest of the warders arrived. 

Andaria stood and gently gestured for silence for them all.  Then communicating wordlessly the others they surrounded him, taking up their positions as they had during the ceremony, their eyes grew white and white flame danced about them.  It rose from them into the air and settled around Andaria, who was kneeled beside Ian now. 

The White Flame poured back into him.  Ian felt the weight of its presence return, fill him with strength again and force the dark magic out of him.  He lay back, smiled and sighed.

Ian sat back in the tower and had recovered from the battle.  On the table locked in a chest was the assassin's black blade, the bone wand and shreds of its cloak.  He had not destroyed these yet.  He wanted to study them first, and then afterwards they would be destroyed.  The blade was an especially dangerous tool of corruption.

When Ian had found Laughing-Water, the warder was still alive, but the taint had taken hold.  He lay there, shook and foamed at the mouth.  Ian reached out and there were only shreds of his mind left.  He lay his hands on the wolf, gently entered his mind and quietly shut it down.  He then filled Laughing-Water's body with power until it glowed brilliantly and vanished in a flash of light, returning back to primal essence from which all life comes.

He raised his goblet in the air; Ian silently saluted the fallen warder.  He lowered it slightly, stared as the light passed through the crystal, and lit the amber colored mead within.  A single tear rolled down his face.  He was woefully unprepared for this confrontation.  He had underestimated the power of other creatures on this world as well as existing levels of mystic power that were wielded here as well.  Next time he would be better prepared. 

Laughing-Water's image passed through his mind once more and reminded him of how very alone he was on this world.  He spoke out loud to no body in particular.  "You always loose the ones you love."  Ian sighed.  The conjurer didn't miss much from home, but there were a few people that he missed terribly.

Anne Conall wandered in the pale moonlight.  Myralos was a recently discovered a new healing herb that only bloomed at night.  Flora and fauna had changed drastically in the last several years and while a lot were harmful, some like this herb were beneficial.  Its blossoms, when brewed into a tea could assist with relieving pain and fever.  She and a few sisters of the order had chosen this night to harvest a portion of the blossoms to add to their stores. 

Ann knew this section of the land well.  It was under protection by the Sister Angela and the other Sisters trained in battle and Meta powers.

She approaching the patch of herbs, set the staff into the ground and hung the lantern upon it so that she could see better.  The Sister was well into her work when a hand grasped her shoulder.  She spun around to see a battered and ragged man, who leaned heavily on a makeshift staff.  His long red hair was disheveled, and gave him the look of a madman.  One eye had completely swelled shut and the other was blackened.  He looked as if he had been attacked by an angry mob. 

He withdrew his hand and croaked out "Please...help me..."  With this he sagged to the ground.

Sister Anne looked at this pitiful man and her fear fled.  It was replaced by the compassion and desire to help another that had suffered; the same thing that had brought her to the monastery.  She called out to Sisters Laura and Rachelle, she began inspect his injuries.   She realized that in spite of he injuries he was a handsome man, with very intense green eyes. 

The two sisters arrived and they created a makeshift travois to carry him to the cloister.  There were few awake due to the lateness of the hour.  She would tell Sister Angela about this in the morning.  Now they must tend his injuries, clean and dress him. 

After the others had left she stayed with the man in the infirmary for a time.  When she felt he would be all right, Anne too had gathered her things was preparing to leave when the man awoke.  He stared dumbfounded at his surrounding and at her.

Ann knelt beside the bed, gently took his hand in hers and calmly asked.  "Sir, can you tell me what happened to you?"

"I was...attacked, by men..." he still seemed to have trouble taking everything in. 

Though he didn't exhibit any signs of a concussion she was still concerned.  Anne gently brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead.  "Do you know why?"

"No, I can't remember."  He grasped her had with considerable strength, in spite of his injures.  He whispered, "Please help me.  I can't remember...anything!"

End of Amber Shards - Chapter Three.

-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2001 by Michael Liebhart,

-- and may not be reprinted without permission. 

-- Otherverse as an apocalyptical setting is an original

--creation of Dylan Clearbrook

-- Some characters in Otherverse stories are original

--creations of Dylan Clearbrook, Michael Liebhart,

-- Jason Gasper, Jake H., Terry, or Jason Froikin, and may not

-- be used without express permission of the respective author

-- Supergirl and some other characters are property of D.C. Comics

-- Dr. Doom and some other characters are property of Marvel Comics