“What?” I blinked a couple of times to see if the picture of a Witcher holding a mud and shit encrusted boot towards me, as though it was a holy record was some kind of hallucination that I could wake up from.

“Pig shit,” Kerrass' eyes were blazing fiercely.

“Sorry Kerrass I don't...”

“Pig shit. There's a pig pen outside where the land lady keeps pigs.”

I blinked again a couple of times.

I am still a student. I have sat many exams and there comes a point in any exam, especially if you are sitting an exam in amongst a stream of other exams as for whatever sadistic reason the exam co-ordinators put all of your exams on the same few days when they had an entire couple of months when they could have set the papers, there comes a time where you are staring at the paper and at a particular question. You look at it and for whatever reason the question won't focus, you can't think of an answer and you reach through a fog of fatigue to get any kind of inspiration as to how you can answer this STUPID DAMNED QUESTION and then you can feel that part of your brain is saying “We know this. We know the answer to this,” and you reach for it, blindly and hopefully and then, like lightening from a clear sky, it happens. The dawn breaks and it's as though the holy flame itself reaches down and points to you and says. “Don't worry my lost pilgrim. I will show you the way,” and the answer crystallises in front of your eyes before a burst of energy (often with a split quill) means that you get the answer out and onto the paper.

I stared at the boot.

Slowly I raised my eyes to Kerrass.

We both moved at the same time, barging past the bemused watchmen and all but jumping down the stairs in our haste to get to the pig pen. Where we stood looking down at the piles of muck, dirt and crap and no amount of gold, jewels or art had ever looked so beautiful.

“He put the boots on to come out here whenever he had to bury something or get at something.” I said through gasps of breath.”

Kerrass nodded. “We're going to need some shovels.”

After shouting our excitement at the increasingly amused, Landlady we managed to gather that there was a shovel inside the outhouse.

Then there was an entertainingly frustrating few minutes where we tried to herd the pigs out of the pen. A chore for which a Witcher and a nobleman's youngest son are manifestly unsuited and we only got anywhere when one of the watchmen (the younger one on guard, not our escort. The lad had worked on a farm before running away to the city to find his fortune) and our fine lady host lent a hand and managed to get the pigs tied up well away from the pen.

Heedless of the dirt, stench and general filth, Kerrass fell to his knees with his medallion in hand and hunted over the floor of the pen until even I saw that the medallion jumped.

I needed no further encouragement and attacked the spot with my shovel. I was soon joined by Kerrass as we frantically and furiously started digging. I was giddy with excitement and I worked far too hard and far too fast quickly discovering that there is a firm difference between being in fit condition for extended horse-riding as well as fighting but it requires a different kind of fitness to shovel dirt. I also learned that there is a technique to it which I was lacking as I tried to lift too much and threw out a muscle.

Laughing at my discomfort the young watchman took the shovel away from me and got in the hole himself, our escort having gone off to send for more watchmen to help keep back the increasing number of locals who had come to watch the crazy Witcher and nobleman digging a hole in a pig sty.

In the end what we were looking for was surprisingly far down given Edmund's inherent laziness but the three of us took it in turns with our two shovels. A couple of other Watchmen had joined the group by then and were keeping people back as the growing pile of dirt started to get higher and higher. I began to suspect that there was nothing there but Kerrass insisted that his medallion was still twitching.

It was Kerrass that found the box. Hard thrusts of his shovel into the ground were eventually met with a solid thunk. The ground was hard now and it took us a while to pull the box away from ground. The earth around it wasn't hard packed as it had obviously been dug and re-dug so we didn't really struggle all that much. But as we held the box aloft and moved it out onto the ground there was a general cheer from the people watching.

If there had been wine we would have toasted each other. Even the other watchmen were grinning at our find and I will admit that I was giddy with the joy of it. Finally a lead, something that I could use, to go further forward. But I hesitated at the same time. Did I want to open it? What if all it contained was another disappointment. I stared at it for a long time wondering what to do.

Kerrass crouched next to the box, with his medallion out and was examining the lock in great detail. All three of us, the Witcher, the young watchman and I were dripping in muck and the crowd was getting bored when, evidence that no cliché exists without some kind of burden of actually happening sometimes, a high, shrill voice was shouting.

“Stand aside, stand aside,” and Sir Robart de Radford the under-sheriff forced his way through the crowd to stand over us all with a look of glee. “Well Witcher, here it is then. Evidence of you and your young, noble patron interfering in my investigation.”

The crowd started to drift away a little faster. No-one wants to have been seen watching and enjoying something that might have been against the law and Sir Robart had brought several armed Watchmen with him.

“Sergeant?” Sir Robart called with relish.

“Sir?” A man stood forward. He was tall, missing an eye which he covered with a black patch and his armour looked rather battered. He looked...bored I thought, almost resigned.

“You will take the Witcher and the young gentleman into custody,”

“Sir?” Military men have changed the word “sir” into an entire language of it's own. I have heard it used to mean many and varied wonderful things. This particular time the Sergeant meant to say, “What?” as well as “seriously?”

“Arrest these men Sergeant.”

The Sergeant nodded and gestured. Two guards walked towards me. I looked at Kerrass and he shrugged. His sword and my spear were propped up in their scabbards against the outhouse wall and even if we fought there was still a cool dozen men, not including the filth encrusted boy who was watching with dawning horror.

“Charge sir?”

“Murder, interfering with an investigation, consorting with magic users and treason. That will do for now.”

I laughed as I held my hands out to the Watchmen who took hold of my arms to restrain me. They looked a little concerned and apologetic. I grinned at them to let them know I didn't hold it against them. “Treason. That's a bit of a stretch don't you think?”

Sir Robart started to walk towards me.

“You can get your barbs in now, murderer. You found this evidence, why didn't you come to the watch with it?”

I stared at him unbelievingly. “Well you're just too stupid to live. Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby? We'd only just found the damn thing and...”

Anger blazed in his eyes and he stepped into me and slapped me across the face. I've got better at taking a beating since I first met Kerrass. You roll with the punches to lessen the impact but here I was restrained.

“Sorry,” I said to him, “Sorry. With you it would have had to be your wet-nurse that dropped you wouldn't it.”

He hit me again.

“Ridicule me will you?” he whispered to me quietly. “Threaten me will you?”

“The watch was standing right next to us as we were finding the evidence that you had missed due to your ridiculous levels of incompetence you....”

He hit me again.

It's an odd sensation to hate someone. To really hate them and want them dead. I flatter myself that I'm a fairly good person and as such I try not to hate people but this man?

“Tell you what,” I said quietly before I spat blood out of my mouth from where his blows had caused me to bite my own lip. “Why don't you and me just go off somewhere, real quiet like eh? Me and my spear against you and your sword and shield.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because otherwise I'm going to scream about your cowardice to anyone and everyone whether they will listen to me or not.”

“You are assuming you will get a chance,”

“You going to murder me on the way to the prison?”

“If you try and escape then it won't be murder. Jumped up little sod like you from your stupid family who think they're better than everyone else.”

I laughed at him again. “So that's it. Father wouldn't lend you money.”

“Your jumped up little bastard of a father can rot in the paupers grave that...”

I surged upright and head-butted him under the chin. It was the oldest fighting trick that I had but it was still the best. I only just got him by the chin though.

He laughed at my gesture.

“I'm going to kill you Robart.” I hissed, straining at the men who held my arms. “I'm going to call you out and fillet you like the cowardly little fish that you are.”

“You will be dead long before that happens. In the meantime, lets see what you've been trying to hide from us shall we?” His grin of triumph was sickening as I was dragged over to the box,

“You, the disgrace in uniform.” Robart gestured at the young Watchman who had been helping us. “Open the box.”

“Don't do it,” Kerrass was standing upright and spoke calmly, clearly and so that his voice could be heard by everyone watching. “The lock is cursed and I have yet to figure out how to...”

“Cursed is it?” Robart was too far gone now. “How do you know this?”

“Really?” I bellowed. “Really? He's a Witcher you unspeakable stain of yellow bellied piss, it's his job to know this.”

“More likely that he cast the curse.” Robart shouted back. I gave up and decided that the man was mad. One too many insults, real and perceived had got to him.

“Open it,” Robart demanded of the young watchman again.

“Opening that chest without proper precautions will result in, at best, death.” Kerrass went on calmly.

“Open it,” Robart yelled.

“Don't do it,” The Witcher said again louder this time. “This is a warning, take it how you will but I am trying to save that Watchman's life. I will not be held responsible for...”

“BE SILENT,” Robart screamed. “You have no further place here Witcher unless it is on the scaffold or the pyre and as for you,” he turned on the hapless young Watchman. “I am already inclined to have you flogged for the disgraceful state of your uniform. Do you dare disobey a direct order from a superior officer at that. Not to mention a nobleman of long and proud lineage, unlike some I could mention.”

That poor young man. Poor man. He looked from Kerrass to Sir Robart.

Kerrass was shaking his head.

Sir Robart was practically vibrating with incandescent rage.

The boy looked at the Sergeant whose face was ashen.

“OPEN IT.”

The boy jumped at the outburst and quickly bent to the lock.

“Don't...called Kerrass who was suddenly struggling against the men holding him.

The boy reached out to the lock and touched it.

The flash was purple.

The boy's mouth opened in a silent scream as his entire body went rigid. His hand didn't move from the lock.

Then he started to shake, not in the natural pattern of someone shuddering or shivering but more of someone who's muscles were acting involuntarily but his hand never left it's contact with the box.

The guards holding me froze. Kerrass was struggling with his guards.

“Pull him away,” Kerrass shouted, desperately trying to get his hands free to cast one of his signs to knock the poor young Watchmen aside. “Pull him away or...” He slumped as someone hit him in the temple.

I wrenched an arm free as my two men were still frozen in shock, punched the other and dove at the young Watchman whose name I still didn't know and managed to make contact.

The pain was indescribable.

It felt as though I had been been dipped in liquid fire while all my bones had turned to brittle ice.

I blacked out.

There were dreams that went with the pain. Horrible dreams that threatened to suck me down paths of madness and fear. I have no words to describe them but as I sit here in the safe and warm, I shiver as I try to describe them.

I was a fly, mummified on a web waiting for the spider to come and eat me.

I was prey being carried through the sky in the talons of some enormous bird of prey.

I was being eaten by a horrific monster it's fangs tearing at my flesh.

For a moment I did not believe it when I woke up. My limbs were shaking uncontrollably and when I finally managed to open my eyes. I was strapped down on a bed.

My brothers bed in the room that he had rented.

I could hear people yelling along with a kind of general thrumming that set my teeth on edge.

I had also been gagged.

Odd that that last one would be the thing that I realised last.

But it wasn't the last thing, as I turned my head and spat out the piece of wood that had been wrapped in leather thonging a huge shudder racked my body.

“So,” said a woman's voice. “It's been a long time since I've had to sit next to your sick bed.”

“Emma?”

“Yep. Sure enough, I leave you alone for what? A day? And you're already putting your life in danger to save someone else.” she was mocking me but there was just an edge to the voice.

“To be fair, last time I left it was some months after seeing you before I put myself in danger.”

“True, but this time I get to slap the shit out of you for it.”

“Are you going to warn me in advance or...”

“No no, I already hit your head on the side of the door when we got you in the room so my vengeance is already sated.”

My head was a bit sore but separating this pain from all the other little pits of pain was something of, well, a headache.

“Are you going to let me up?”

“Not yet, I've been told that you have to stay there until the tremors stop.”

Just as she spoke another one of those massive shudders worked it's way from my head to my toes.

“Like that one,” Emma said helpfully.

“I had gathered. Can you tell me what's going on?”

“Only roughly. I should mention that there is another guard in the room by the way as technically you are still under arrest.”

“Prophets preserve us,”

“I thought the same as it happens. But anyway, when you tackled that poor young lad you both fell away and the curse hit the young man in full force. I'm sorry Freddie.”

“He died?”

I heard her dress rustle, “Sorry, I just nodded before realising that you couldn't see that.”

I stared at the ceiling.

“In the end it was Kerrass that put the poor boy out of his misery. All of his muscles were experiencing extreme spasms to the point where his limbs were breaking multiple times and in multiple ways. I'm told he was screaming... Horribly as well before Kerrass managed to reach his sword and well... You know the rest. He couldn't have survived. I was unlucky enough to see the corpse. It looked like one of those jelly-fish that sometimes wash up on the coast.”

She audibly shuddered.

“The working theory is that you got the back lash of the curse but they managed to get the curse undone before it killed you.”

I hadn't heard her properly. There was a buzzing in my ears.

“I'm going to kill him Emm. I'm going to take my spear and I'm going to kill that Robart fuck.”

“Watchman present...”

The man helpfully cleared his throat.

“I don't care,” I said. “Robart practically killed another Watchman by ordering him to his death without need. I doubt that the Watch will stop me. I'll find a second and get it organised properly anyway and that way I'll be able to skewer him properly.”

Emma was quiet for a moment.

“Yes, well. I think you may have to get in line.”

“I would stake my claim ahead of others.”

Emma was quiet.

“You done?” she said quietly. “Macho posturing is pointless. Anger I can understand. Let it cool and then make your choice.”

She wasn't wrong so I did my best to try and remember how to breathe. Another shudder.

“How long is this going to take?”

“Not long I'm told, half an hour?”

I nodded.

“So what happened?”

Emma took another breath.

“You got the lad clear which stopped the curse from spreading from him and into other people. Kerrass was yelling, Robart was demanding that they find a rope to hang the two of you from the nearest tree, villagers were screaming and apparently it was all going to get a bit messy. Fortunately for everyone, as well as summoning Sir Robart to the scene, the Watch had ALSO summoned The Watch Captain who arrived with a whole bunch more Watchmen.”

I sighed in relief. The Captain of Oxenfurt city watch is a steadfastly unimaginative man and managed to hold order throughout the most recent war. He was crippled in the second Nilfgaardian war in that he lost his left hand when his shield shattered, mangling it to the point where it needed amputating. The army people told him that he wouldn't be allowed to serve in the army any more so he went back to Oxenfurt and signed up in the watch pointing out that he could still fight with a sword and that all they had to do was to strap a shield to his left arm and leave him to it.

He rose through the ranks over the course of the next war until he was given the position of Captain because there was no one left who had the noble rank to hold the job. Much to everyone's surprise it turned out that he was born to the role. He married an academic and settled in although rumour has it that he enjoys messing up the society dinners that he gets invited to and is a little too fond of just bludgeoning everyone into unconscious and then sorting everything out afterwards for my taste. But he appoints people to ranks based on talent and skill rather than noble bloodline, is a gifted administrator and has that gift of those people who aren't blessed with an education at a young age to see through the bullshit to the heart of the problem.

Unfortunately he still had to deal with the subordinates of the High Sheriff of Redania however.

“The Captain turned up and demanded to know what was going on,” Emma continued. “Sir Robart told his side of the story and demanded that you and the Witcher be hung for using Witchcraft on the Watch.”

I groaned.

“The Captain listened gravely and then said, if I'm quoting him right, “That's lovely and everything but what actually happened?” When it became clear that the Captain wasn't going to get anything out of Sir Robart he asked Kerrass what had happened. Kerrass laid out the events. All the while, you and the young Watchman were screaming and moaning in agony. Then the Captain asked the Watchman that had escorted the pair of you to the scene what had happened. The Watchman told his captain the sequence of events. The Captain nodded, placed Sir Robart under arrest and had him removed. He conferred with the Witcher for a while and let him get at his sword despite still being under arrest as well and it was decided that the curse was still active and that they needed to send for a proper Magic User.

“The Captain wondered why Kerrass couldn't serve in that capacity, Kerrass spoke about specific knowledge of a Witcher but said that he could lay his hands on a Sorceress providing that she be given amnesty.

“The Captain mused for a while, during which you and the young lad were still screaming, and agreed. Kerrass sent off a message and I was brought here.”

“Wait a second, what?”

Emma wouldn't meet my eyes.

“Ummm,”

“Emma is there something you want to tell me?”

Emma looked at the ceiling and burst into tears.

“Dammit,” I swore, “Watchman, could you untie me please?”

“I...”

“I will deal with the consequences, just untie me.”

Emma had curled herself up into a little ball, her hands scrunched into fists and pressed against her eyes.

The Watchman beat a hasty retreat.

“Emma,” As gently as I could I pried Emma's hands away from her eyes which were swollen and red with tears.

“Emma you don't need to protect yourself from me,”

“I know I know it's just,” She looked at me, “I don't want you to hate me,”

“Why would I hate you? You're my sister.”

“I know but you were almost as religious as Mark at one time and the church has certain views on things that...”

I took hold of her arms again.

“Emma look at me,” She did although it took a bit of time.

“That was a long time ago. I am religious but in the last eighteen months I have seen more good from people that the church says are evil and more evil from those that the church says are good. You're my sister and I love you even though it might take me a little while to get used to the idea of you being a Sorceress.”

“What?” she looked shocked.

“What do you mean what? They sent for a Sorceress and you came,”

Emma's eyes widened. Then she laughed. “No, Oh flame no, I'm not the Sorceress. I've got all the magical talent of a plank. No, it's my maid.”

“Your maid?” My brain was too busy realising that it was bulling off in the wrong direction and desperately trying to turn itself around.

“Yes my maid.” She laughed at what must have been the most stupid expression that I can wear multiplied by several thousand. “You don't think that someone who looks like that would be working as a maid for someone do you? Even if her family wasn't noble then she still would have attracted some important persons eye and been whisked off by now.”

I stared at the ceiling for a long time as my brain worked away quietly. “She certainly caught Sam's eye.” I heard myself comment.

Emma giggled. “Yes, she told me about that.”

“So your maid's a Sorceress.”

“Yes, her real name is Laurelen de Bismoor.”

“I've not heard of her.”

“You wouldn't. She would say that to be noticed as a Sorceress you need to be involved in politics and as she could care less about politics, no-one knew who she was. She was part of the community that grew up in Novigrad where magic users worked together to get themselves out of the city.”

“I'd heard they were all led north to Kovir and Poviss.”

“They were. Laurelen decided not to go.”

“Why? It would have been safer, there are still plenty of people that would cheerfully burn her as a magic user.”

Emma looked scared again.

“She didn't want to go. There were several reasons. I gather there was something of a rivalry with someone in the rest of the group and...” Emma turned away. “She didn't want to leave,”

“Why? Research in the area? What for?”

My sister just looked at me.

I could feel my brain jumping up and down trying to tell me something.

“For me.” She said simply.

“Oh,” I said stupidly. “Ooohhh,”

A shudder struck me then and I held onto the bed for dear life.

“So you and she are...?” I waved my hands suggestively.

“Yes,”

“With everything that implies?”

“Yes.”

“You're...Lovers?”

She laughed aloud suddenly. “I've never heard it said like that. Certainly we haven't said it like that. I like that. Yes, she and I are lovers.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Ohhhh.” Another long pause as I took a long time to add two things together and re-evaluate my life. “Damn but do I feel stupid.”

I sat back and rested my head against the wall.

“That makes so much sense.” I looked at her. “That's why you never married.”

“Yes, men don't interest me.” She reminded me of a cat where you've accidentally stood on it's tail. It's screamed and run off so you find it later with some treats so it slowly and furtively comes out to take the food from your hand. “They never have.”

“How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“That you prefer women?”

“I was twelve. There was a serving woman who drew water from the well, it was a hot day and she had pulled the water up and then she stretched her arms up and stood on tip toes as she arched her self backwards yawning. I could never remember seeing anything more beautiful. Of course I couldn't have put it into words then.”

“Heh, Flame I never would have guessed.”

“So you're not angry? I thought you would be angry.”

“Nah. You're my sister.” For me it felt as though that was the only thing that needed to be said. Emma is my sister and if you don't like the way she chooses to live her life then I'll fight you.

Emma seemed to want more than that though.

“Look,” I began. “I won't deny that this is going to take some getting used to. I also won't deny that if I had found out about it a couple of years ago, or even eighteen months ago then I might have reacted differently, but... of course I'm not angry. You're my sister and if you love her then I love her.”

“Thank you.” She said formally before hugging me fiercely. “Oh thank you I have so dreaded this

conversation.”

I hugged her back. “Remember that I'm the guy that might be marrying a vampire.”

“That's true isn't it.” Some of her old humour seemed to come back.

She pulled back and wiped her eyes before blowing her nose.

“I do have some practical questions though,” I said.

Emma nodded.

“Did father know?”

Emma nodded. “He figured it out fairly quickly actually. I think he might have been annoyed at first but then it seemed that he largely just forgot about it. He would keep throwing suitors at me in an effort to marry me off or in some kind of vague hope that I might have changed my mind or that I might tolerate them enough to marry them and take a lover of some kind. The thought did cross my mind more than once for the politics of the thing but although I've met many women I find attractive I have yet to see a man who I think is attractive in more than an aesthetic level. Your Witcher is good looking but I don't find him attractive. You have grown into your looks and are no longer bad looking.”

“Eewww.” I said.

“Precisely.”

“Does mother know?”

“I think so, we've never talked about it though she has just left me to it. I find it hard to believe that she didn't know. Laurelen and I have shared a bedroom for the last year easily.”

“So that night I came to see you, was she under the bed? In the wardrobe maybe?”

Emma shook her head. “She uses a spare room when family come to stay. Guests use a separate wing so that the...we don't bother them,”

“So what doesn't bother them?” I prompted.

Emma reddened. “Turns out I can be quite....vocal.”

I laughed at her.

“Stop it,” she snapped.

“Oh come on,” I cried. “you can't expect me not to have a little fun at this?”

She glared at me.

“Does anyone else know?” I asked.

“The rest of the staff have made it clear that they know, castle gossip being what it is but have also left us several signs that they all approve. Then there's Kerrass who tells me that he smelt her on me and knew that she was magical when they saw each other.

“Then there's you.”

I nodded as another spasm hit me.

“That number has gone up today.”

“It certainly looks like it.” She nodded regretfully. “I suspect that I will be moving on soon as Mark won't want to have me in the castle. Godless lesbian that I am. “Woman shall not lie with woman,” he will say waving his fist in the air,” Emma could mime and imitate Mark perfectly when she put her mind to it.

I laughed again.

“Maybe but I actually have an argument against that nowadays.”

“Really?”

I winced as another shudder seemed to shake my very bones.

“Yeah. First of all the line in scripture actually says “Man shall not lie with man.” Secondly, a friend of mine debates doctrine for a living. He came up with a theory that that whole rule is a man made thing entirely. He points out that when compared to other religions, Melitele, druidism, Veyopatis, ancestor worship, the prophets and so on... The holy flame is relatively new and has only started spreading about more recently. For a religion to grow it needs followers. One of the best ways to do that is to have people born into the religion. Therefore you need children born and raised in the faith for that same religion to spread. Therefore you can't have women going around loving each other as then they won't have children. They need to be at home, making babies.”

Emma's smile was crooked. “Laurelen has some ideas about that. She thinks there may be a way for her to make me pregnant.”

I laughed. “One way or another, I want to be there when you tell Mark that,”

She giggled.

“Look,” I said. “yes I am more religious than I let on or like to publicize. Yes I pray every day and make offerings at shrines whenever I can. But for me the Holy Flame is different from the church. To me the Holy flame represents hope. It represents warmth, comfort and welcoming. It is the fire of the hearth when you get home after a long day. It is also the light of guidance.

“To me it is not the burning of pain or punishment but the warmth of a blanket or a hot bath to wash away the grime of every day life.

“If that is true? and a lot of the original scriptures would tend to agree rather than the more modern dogmatic interpretations, then why is that not the warmth of love. The flame would welcome your love and I cannot bring myself to believe that love is wrong. No matter what form it takes. Even if that form is not one that I can understand or necessarily agree with. Who am I to judge? If you're happy then I am happy. If you love her then I will love her,”

“Thank you Freddy.”

We hugged again.

“Huh,” I said as a thought crossed my mind.

“What's that?”

“I hadn't thought of it like that.”

“Thought of what?”

“The vampire and I. What's true for you should also be true for her and for me. I must think about that.”

“Do you love her?”

“She terrifies me Emma. She's gorgeous and beautiful. She's intelligent, charming and funny as well when she puts her mind to it but she terrifies me. She promises she would never hurt me but that terror would only go away with time as I would have to learn to trust her and I'm not sure I want to give that time. But one of the things that was giving me pause was the religious aspect. If the holy flame would accept your love as I've just argued, why not ours? Moment of self-realisation is all.”

“Indeed,” She was grinning at me.

“Are you mocking me?”

“A little,”

“Alright then. As for brother's Mark and Sam? We'll deal with them when we get to it.”

“Will you help me with that?”

“Absolutely. But can I get out of bed now? I've got things to do.”

Emma nodded. “I'm going to wait here.”

Slowly and cautiously I made my way down the steps on the outside of the house. I felt stiff, the same way you do after a long ride or after a brisk training session when you have let your conditioning go for a while. That wasn't the worry though. Every so often my muscles would start jumping and twitching in unusual ways. I was escorted down the steps by the Watchman that I assumed was my permanent shadow while I was under arrest. It didn't seem to be a particularly strict form of arrest though as I was clearly allowed to wander around. A mad impulse struck me to just walk off in a random direction and see how far it would be before I was either caught or gently but firmly told that I shouldn't go any further. The landscape hadn't changed much while I had been unconscious but the number of people that were around had been vastly reduced and what remained had seemingly decided to put Watch uniforms on.

I decided not to comment.

In the downstairs part of the house I found Kerrass, the Watch Captain, several other Watchmen and my sisters maid. I was still unable to think of her as my sisters lover, partner or whatever she was but having seen her for the first time properly I wondered how I could ever have mistaken her for someone who was “in service”. Another sign of my noble privilege I supposed.

She wasn't tall but she dominated the room. It was more than her physical beauty which was considerable but it was as though the rest of the people that were there just kind of faded into the background to be replaced by her towering presence. The curious thing was that she hadn't changed her clothes or her appearance either. She still wore her hair just long enough to be pulled back into a pony tail, the make-up that I could see was subdued and I thought that I could only see it because I was actively trying to look for it and her clothing was still the drab colours and cuts of a maid's outfit. Now that I looked a bit closer I could see that the fabric was considerably better than I had previously supposed but it wasn't the dress of a noble lady let alone a Sorceress. Other than that she was lacking in the jewellery and other ornaments that I would normally associate with the more stereotypical image of a Sorceress and taken objectively she looked like a normal beautiful woman. Never the less though it was clear who she was and it astonished me again that I hadn't seen it.

People looked up as I entered and at first I stood there not really knowing what to do.

“Good,” the Captain of the Watch said, “perhaps now we can finally get to the bottom of this entire pile of bullshit,” he sounded bored and fed up as though what he really wanted to do was to get back to whatever business had previously been occupying his mind.

“Sorry what?” I said helpfully as I walked into the room. “You'll have to help me out here as I've been, you know, unconscious for a bit. What's happening?”

I was at least rewarded with seeing that Kerrass smiled.

The Captain bristled. “Box needs opening, apparently you are the only one nearby that can open it.” the man sniffed as though he was still not convinced as to the efficacy of this plan.

“Ok, can we take it back a bit...” I turned and addressed Kerrass. “What's happening?”

Kerrass opened his mouth to speak but the Captain had other ideas.

“Look, whatever your name is, I don't care if you're noble or whether your mother shat you out this morning. I'm tired, I'm cranky, I lost a watchman today and I want to get to the bottom of this.”

I took a deep breath in a hopeful effort to try and calm myself down.

“Captain. I understand your frustration. I really do.” I was really trying for calm reasonable voice but somewhere it got away from me a little bit. “But please understand me when I say that I could give a crap about how cranky you are.”

“Now look here,”

“No, you look here.” Somewhere in the back of my mind a small part of my brain registered Kerrass shaking his head in exasperation. “Kerrass and I found this, despite your investigators already having been over the place in an effort to find things out. Furthermore we were delayed in getting to the scene. Then when we found the box it was one of your investigators who ordered the watchman to open said box, despite the warnings of the qualified individuals on the scene and without proper precautions. Therefore it was your officers fault that that young man died.”

“I...”

“Kerrass has found more since he started your investigation than your investigator has. Your investigator has since fixated upon me as the culprit despite the fact that I am proven to have been elsewhere at the time of both my fathers death and my brothers death and was actually in the presence of your watchmen when we unearthed the box. Nevertheless I have been threatened with execution and the prospect of being killed while trying to escape on the way to your cells.”

That same part of my brain that noticed Kerrass' reaction also noticed that a couple of the attending Watchmen shuffling their feet a bit uncomfortably.

“I acted in the hope of preventing further magical...incident and under the advice of my resident expert in an effort to save further lives but when I wake up I find that I am still under arrest. So you will understand, Captain, my anger, frustration and outrage when I am ordered to do anything. So I ask again. What. Is. Happening?”

In my defence I was tired, angry, in pain and still suffering from shock.

The captain nodded met my eyes. “I understand and acknowledge all of your points. However I will point out that Firstly Sir Robart is not my investigator but rather the Sheriff's investigator. He and I have already had words on his handling of the case but as he is not an investigator of mine he is allowed to do what he likes. Secondly, your state of arrest in my custody is all that is keeping you from his carting you off under his authority so I am in fact saving your life. Thirdly...”

He trailed off and his eyes unfocused a little. “I swear I had a third thing but I forget. In short, mind your damned tone. What you have done is make a simple little mystery become more complicated. I understand that is not your fault because I'm not a complete moron, but I want it cleared up and off my desk as soon as possible. That means that I need to know what's in the box. Your self same experts claim that only you can open the box, we were just waiting for you to wake up. So open the damned box.”

I thought about this and considered my next words carefully. After all, he did have a point.

“No,” I said,

“What?”

“No, No I'm not just going to open a box randomly to see what's inside on your say so. As I recall, the last person that did that at someone else's order died. Horribly.”

A sense of movement in the corner of my eye suggested that Kerrass was shaking his head sadly.

The Watch Captain stared at me before a sly smile crept across his face.

“Would you please open the box so that we can clear all this up and go home?”

“I'll think about it. But I need some assurances...”

“You are only under arrest because it's easier to explain than why you might need protecting.”

“Ok, fair enough but I need the full process of “why me” explaining to me first. That point is not negotiable.”

The Captain nodded.

“Second, Not myself, Kerrass the Witcher or the Lady Laurelen will be prosecuted for taking part in this or any venture that involves this action.”

“I have already agreed to that.”

“Good. I also want assurances that no-one who knew about the Lady Laurelen's true identity are free from any and all prosecution. I don't want a team of watchmen descending upon my fathers estate and starting a witch-hunt after she has aided in dealing with this problem.”

“Done, although I can only speak for my men but I will say that as far as I'm concerned, any attack upon the lady is an actual attack and she, or others may defend herself accordingly. Other than that the law would fall into the feudal hands of the estate, whomever that may be. Anything else?”

I considered.

“I would like a private word with the lady without witnesses on a separate matter before anything else happens.”

The Captain nodded, “Although that would be between you and the lady so I am unsure as to why you are

asking me.

“There are an awful lot of Watchmen about Captain.”

He nodded.

“Everyone clear out.” then back to me, “Ten minutes milord.”

They all filed out including Kerrass who gave me a warning look.

It took some doing but I managed to turn around and actually look at the woman that my sister had fallen in love with.

My first observation upon seeing her was that she was indeed, intimidatingly beautiful, almost frighteningly so. This was above and beyond what I had seen before from anyone now that I was alone in the room with her.

Ariadne in her human form is certainly beautiful but she takes a certain delight in appearing like a normal human being and as such, although she could probably adjust her appearance accordingly she chose not too for her own reasons. I suspect that part of this is so that she doesn't cause even more fear among the rest of us and cause us to think things like “dark vampire magics”.

This woman had no such constraints. He blonde hair had been cut fairly short to go with her appearance of being a servant but the rest of her appearance was...startling. It was like a physical slap, or a hammer blow. But at the same time I found that I wasn't particularly attracted to her. It was more as though I was observing her beauty from a distance in the same way that I would look at a painting or a statue.

She was looking defiant as well, chin jutting out as well as up, face set and she had made a visible effort not to fold her arms.

“So,” she said after some time had gone. “You've only got ten minutes. What do you want to talk about?”

“Everything.” I said, I was looking around for something to drink. “Nothing.” There it was, a large jug in the corner and I strode towards it. “Everything in between.” I poured myself a goblet and offered her one which she declined.

I sat down.

One of my many university friends, and by friends I mean people that I know and would not object to buying a drink when they've hit on hard times, is the son of a diplomat for hire. The man's job is to bring two parties together who might generally be angry at each other and to get them talking and making inroads towards friendship. Apparently one of the best pieces of advice that has ever been passed down from father to son is that if you ever find yourself in a tense situation with someone else... first of all sit down. It takes a cold man to kill someone who's sitting down and if they're that bad then you've got a bigger problem to begin with. It's also a lot harder to get angry when you are sitting down. Secondly, get food involved. Not alcohol but food and some other kind of drink.

Milk is good for that.

I had watered wine to work with but I did my best.

“So you and my sister,” I said after staring at her for what was probably too long to be strictly ok.

“Yes,”

“You're lovers.” I was not asking questions.

“Yes.”

I nodded and stared into my cup.

“Do you love her?” I asked. I had no idea where the question came from.

Then she proved that, underneath the unearthly power and startling beauty, she was human after all.

“What kind of question is that?” she demanded. “Would you demand that same question of any woman who started a romantic thing with any of your brothers or do you feel you need to protect your sister because she's a woman? Is this where you warn me off? Is this where you say words to the effect of “You'd better not hurt her because otherwise you've got me to deal with,” How dare you interfere in my business, I don't have to answer to you and if you're going to try and threaten me then I have to tell you that you've got some nerve given that I could fry you in an instant and that you are not even remotely scary.”

Her eyes were blazing in a sudden fury that I judged was driven by fear as much as anything else.

I carefully set my cup aside.

“What kind of question is that? I would say it's a valid one for these circumstances madam.” I had to try really hard to keep my voice level and calm as her anger had caught mine. “Let me make it very clear. I love my sister a great deal. I love both of my sisters a great deal, and my brothers as well for that matter. If I didn't we wouldn't be in this mess. But I love Emma in particular as she has been sister, mother and friend to me for the entirety of my life. She has been kept down because of her gender and for that I am sorry as, if she had been born male, I truly believe that she could shake nations if she put her mind to it but instead she is a woman. She is a woman who lives in a society that frowns on who she is and what she is.

“She loves you madam and my sister never does anything by halves so you have the power to do something that no-one else has ever been able to do which is to destroy my sister with the very real possibility that she would never recover. If you were a normal person I would still be concerned but you are not a normal person. You are a Sorceress and that comes with a certain kind of baggage.”

I stood up then but I didn't realise it.

“I have no idea how old you are. To look at you I would guess somewhere to the tune of early to mid twenties but I have studied my history books enough to know that you could be aged anywhere between that and several hundred years old. For all I know she is a passing fancy of yours. For all I know this could be your way of showing gratitude to a woman who saved your life and kept you safe. I have read the tales of the bard and his comments about how Sorceresses and Sorcerers play around among themselves. Even if there is no truth to the specifics that he wrote there are still enough other stories to call up the old saying about smoke and fire. You are a beautiful woman madam but I would imagine that you know that. What happens when Emma starts to age, what happens when her hair turns grey and her eyesight weakens. You will still look as young and beautiful as you are now. When do you get bored?

“Or even worse, at what point does Emma, and I know her so I know that this is a possibility. At what point does Emma break her own heart by chasing you off because she thinks that someone like you should be free to follow your own heart?

“Another thing, Sorceresses are renowned for getting involved in politics. You can't deny that. Are you a member of the lodge? When some well meaning monarch decides to have you assassinated, will Emma be caught in the cross-fire?

“I don't care that my sister loves another woman. I'm as surprised as she was that that was my reaction but what I am concerned about is that the woman that she has fallen in love with is you.”

She began to open her mouth.

“Oh and by the way, if we're trading threats,” I interrupted. “You are in my city and although I might not look like much, my publisher tells me that I reach a wide audience of many different ranks. My best friend is a Witcher, my sister loves me as well and it looks like I am about to be betrothed to a nine hundred year old vampire who has studied magic in all that time with nothing to do over the last four hundred years other than practice her technique. So if you're not scared of me now then you might want to consider who you're talking to when you threaten to fry me in an instant.”

We stood there glaring at each other, almost nose to nose. I didn't remember getting that close but suddenly the whole situation seemed ridiculous to me. I don't know which of us blinked first but I do know that we both started laughing at each other almost simultaneously.

“I'm sorry,” I said wiping tears from my eyes and sinking onto a nearby bench, “It's been a long day.”

“I'm sorry too. I just got defensive suddenly when I don't really know why.”

“I do,” I said as I got up and got my drink. This time she did accept a goblet. “I was being a tit and not asking the right questions or thinking before I speak. It's a bad habit but in my defence I've never had to talk to someone who's shagging my big sister before.”

She stared at me, horrified, before a bark of laughter exploded out of her mouth just before she clapped her hand over it, her shoulders shaking.

“I'd never heard it put like that before.” She said after the hilarity died down although we did giggle occasionally just afterwards. “how to answer you though... I understand your fears. I really do and I have to say that they're not invalid although I would suggest that she has less to worry about than you do regarding the lady Ariadne.”

“I know,” I said glumly.

“But anyway, practically speaking, magic does have it's uses. I can age with Emma if I so wish or I can keep her young if she wishes. It's not a conversation that we've had yet as we've just been living day to day. I can certainly keep her brain from deteriorating so she will still have the mind she has now so it's just the stream of memory that she would have to worry about. As to breaking her heart?”

She sat down next to me and stared off into the middle distance. As I watched she seemed to fold in on herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms round them. Emma did the same thing when she was thinking deep thoughts.

When she started talking again I felt as though she wasn't talking to me.

“I can't see the future. If I could I would have been astonished by this whole circumstance as much as anyone else. I'm fifty-five years old and I've looked as you see me for the last thirty.”

Her voice became almost haunted.

“Before that I was....I looked somewhat different.”

I said nothing, just letting her talk.

“I am aware of the effects that magic can have on a body and I am aware of what I look like. I have never wanted for sexual or romantic partners whenever I have felt the need.”

She stared into space for a moment.

“Your Father was one of the people that helped fund the Mage's underground. Whether it was Emma that began it and your father that merely allowed it to continue or whether it was the other way round I do not know, but that's how I met her. Before I met her I had never once. Not once have I ever, or did I ever feel even the slightest bit of attraction towards another woman. Not once. I don't say this to boast but I've not been without male lovers and loves, or so I had thought, but one day I looked into your sisters eyes and I felt the rest of the world go away.

“We lived in fear at the time, the other mages and I, in the sewers and tunnels underneath Novigrad and I was escorting our contact with your father to the docks. Emma came with the agent, I had no idea who she was and she was dressed to blend in, but when I saw her I stood stock still. She seemed to make all my troubles fall away and I knew, I knew, that the only place I could find comfort and feel safe was in her arms.

“When Merigold came to us with the plan to go to Kovir, I agreed with her. It was a good plan, a risky plan certainly because of the changeover at the docks but our current position was unsustainable. I agreed with her. I helped her make the plans and plot out the routes. I led one of the groups to the ships. But when it came time to step aboard the boats and while Merigold said goodbye to someone who I gathered to be her former lover. I found that I could not step aboard.

“I walked away.

“It didn't even occur to me that I should do anything else.”

She wiped at her cheeks.

I was astonished. The Sorceress was weeping.

I offered a handkerchief.

“She took me in and I became her maid. Not that I performed any of that kind of work. It was a convenient fiction. Her parents never commented, the other servants seemed to accept the arrangement and cleared a cellar for my “work” as though they knew and approved of me. Your other brothers were annoying when they were here but only Edmund wouldn't take no for an answer and I had to sleep elsewhere whenever they were around.”

She looked at me then.

“I can't answer your question but the thought of losing her? I can't I just can't...”

Her voice broke and I was moved enough to embrace her.

We sat there for a while as I held her until her shaking stopped.

“Welcome to the family,” I said when we pulled apart.

“I can see why your sister likes you,” she said wiping at her face with a hanky.

“I'm glad.”

“Will I cause her problems?”

I thought about that. “I don't know. I think, I think that if father didn't know about the two of you then he was a lot more stupid than I give him credit for.”

“Your father was not stupid.”

I nodded. “So I think that he would have made provision to protect Emma when he was gone regardless of her romantic feelings. Sam won't care beyond being “suitably outraged” but he will secretly be quite pleased that there is a reason for his rebuffed advances. Mark is the problem. You may end up running away together in the end but that's the worst case scenario and I will help where I can. I am not without resources nowadays and many, surprisingly powerful people owe me favours.”

“Including a certain vampire.”

I smiled but then frowned.

“Yes, including her. Terrifying though that may be.”

She chortled again. “Would it be so terrible?”

“Maybe not, but that's part of why it's most terrifying.”

I stood up. “Anyway, shall we get this over with?” gesturing at the door.

She made a complicated gesture and the streaks of wet make-up vanished.

“That's a good trick,” I said before I opened the door to allow an irate Watch Captain inside.

I carefully did not watch while my sister came in looking terrified to be reassured by her...I'm going to have to write it sooner or later... Her girlfriend.

“Well?” demanded the Captain as he inspected the box to make sure that I hadn't tampered with it or anything. “Are you going to open it.”

I'm possibly doing this man a disservice but I was not on my best behaviour at the time. He's even told me his name more than once but the part of me that is still a little student being frightened into behaving properly in town still wants to think of him as some terrifying monster called “The Captain,” that comes into places and stops us from having fun. I kind of don't want to give him that name and friendly exterior because that would lesson who he is. It's a lot like realising that your parents are people too and once got drunk and had sex but regretted it the following morning.

I ignored him.

Kerrass raised his eyebrows in question at me. I shook my head and he shrugged. We knew each other well enough now to know that what this means is “Everything Ok?” and I responded with “I don't know, maybe? I'll tell you later.”

“Ok,” I said to Kerrass, “For hopefully the final time. What's happening?”

“It's not great.” he said beckoning Laurelen over from where she and Emma were talking quietly and quickly.

“In short the box is trapped with a curse.”

“That's a good sign,” I muttered.

Kerrass snorted. “Yes and no, that means that the box is significant but the curse itself is, and I say this with all proper inflection so that you get the proper weight of it, fucking horrible.”

“Oh goody. Why?”

“I'm not really qualified to say,” Kerrass answered.

“I am though,” Laurelen said approaching. She had her business face on again. She was the remote, unapproachable Sorceress. Cold, austere, arrogant and absolutely justified in her arrogance. “What the curse does is literally suck the life energy out of a person to an unknown source.”

“Is it a difficult curse to cast?” I asked noticing the look of boredom on the Watch-Captains face and guessed that he had already asked all these questions.

“I couldn't cast it and I would guess that I'm the most powerful magic user in the local area.”

“So how was it cast?”

“Ritually,” she said simply.

“What that means is that this magic has been built up over time.” Kerrass explained and he raised his voice so that everyone around him could hear. “As you are probably aware magic is a kind of force that is all around us, it's kind of like water in many ways and good Sorcerers can track lines and points of force in the same way that a water diviner and his rod can find hidden wells and water sources.”

“However,” Laurelen took up the narrative, “This “force” takes different forms and all of us that are attuned to it can, and do, use it in different ways. But those are just the mortal users of the magical force. Even those of us who have studied the force in particular detail are unaware of how it works but there are other entities that use the magic in different ways. We know, for instance, that priests and priestesses of various religions can use magic to cast their spiritual miracles. Are those “miracles” just a priests method of casting a spell or are they given to them by God or Gods using the “force” on their behalf, we do not know.” her eyes glittered for a moment, “Also people who do not have any innate magical talent can direct the force by repeated use of what we call “rituals”. The more they practice the ritual they will, eventually, get better at it and produce a magical result.”

“This curse is one of these latter,” Kerrass started again. “I've examined the box, as has the Sorceress and we agree that it is keyed not just physically, but magically to a single person. This magic has been ritually reinforced over time with the performance of a ritual over and over again and as such the curse has been empowered more and more over time.”

“Almost like wine can be turned into port?” The Captain asked.

“Precisely,” answered Kerrass although I thought I could see Laurelen squirm a little bit at the explanation.

“Having gone over the curse,” she then spoke up, “We have discovered the key that was hidden in the hole as well as the box and we have discovered that the ritual was designed to keep the box closed unless a specific person open it.”

I opened my mouth to ask the obvious question.

“That person, was your brother Edmund,” said Kerrass.

“Which is where you come in,” Laurelen put in.

Kerrass nodded. “The lady Sorceress believes that she can adjust the magic sufficiently so that you would be able to “masquerade” as Edmund and be able to trick the curse into believing that you are your brother.”

I looked the question at Laurelen and she nodded. “You are the same gender, you're born of the same parents, but for physical circumstances you should almost be physically identical so it would be much easier to convince the curse that you are Edmund rather than say, Kerrass or the Captain.”

“You make the curse sound like it's alive?”

“In many ways it is. It is certainly more useful if you think of it in that way.”

“Are you confident?” I asked them both quietly.

“Confident enough to risk your sisters wrath,” Laurelen said. Kerrass nodded.

I shrugged.

“Lets get it over then before I change my mind.”

Kerrass started shooing Watchmen out of the door and to the far corners of the room. Laurelen stood in what looked to me to be a random spot in the middle of the room but then she examined the floor and shifted slightly to her right before beginning to chant under her breath.

The low hum that I had begun hearing in the room upstairs got louder and more insistent. I saw Emma leave.

Kerrass came back to me.

“I'm going to step out of the circle in a minute.”

“There's a circle?”

“Yes, don't worry if you can't see it. It's designed to stop any knock on effects like what happened with you and the lad.”

“Reassuring.”

“I know. Try not to think about it though. It should be simple. Walk to the table, you see that knife?”

“The unpleasant one with the unnecessary spikes and grooves?”

Kerrass grinned horribly. “Yes, that one. Pick it up and touch the point of the knife to the lock on the box. You should then be able to open the box. Whatever happens though, do NOT, under any circumstances touch what's inside. There may be further traps and protections. This curse was unpleasant enough.”

I nodded.

“I don't know but I think that this is likely to be unpleasant so concentrate on your task and get it done as soon as possible. You ready?”

“No,”

Kerrass nodded“I'll let her know then.”

Kerrass caught Laurelen's eye and nodded. The hum increased in pitch. I waited until Kerrass was standing next to the Watch-Captain and walked to the table.

The entire sensation left me feeling dirty. I felt old, my knee was sore and my back was stiff as well as there being a kind of odd numbness in my left hand's finger tips. When I moved I felt clumsy and uncomfortable in my own skin. I looked over at Laurelen and I felt an unspeakable and horrible lust wash over me that made me want to vomit.

There is a difference between a normal, I want to say healthy lust for a woman or someone that I am attracted to and what I felt in that instant. Normally when I feel “healthy” lust I want to kiss and stroke and fondle. Here I wanted to do.... I can't even write it. It lessened me to feel these feelings. Normally I want to worship and enjoy my sexual partners. This time I wanted to destroy her, I wanted to break her and torture her until her beauty was no longer visible. I felt my teeth bare until I was snarling.

My stomach heaved and I swallowed.

Focus on the task.

II took a step forward. Another step. There was no pain it was more a kind of feeling... uncomfortable in my own body.

I took another step and I was at the table.

I took up the knife and it seemed to fit in my hand as though it was made for me. There were razor-blades hidden in the hilt wrappings and I could feel them cutting into my skin. The pain was wonderful. It was a work of effort not to grip the handle tighter to increase the sensation. I could already feel a certain dampness. Looking down there was blood and it felt wonderful.

I realised that I was aroused.

I made the mistake of looking up at Laurelen again and that awful awful lust took hold of my body. I wanted to use the knife. To cut at her, to tear at her, to remove strips of her perfect skin and to hear her screams.

Focus on the task.

I was gritting my teeth now and I could see the box. A sudden wave of pleasure went through me and I grabbed at the box greedily. I felt like a drowning man who has suddenly seen a floating piece of wood or a starving man seeing food.

Quickly I took the knife and touched it to the lock which sprang open at the touch as though it had barely

been kept close.

Still holding the knife I quickly unclasped the lock and threw the box open.

I didn't think. I wanted what was inside so badly that I reached inside.

Kerrass tackled me at the waist, my neck snapped backwards at the impact as I landed on the ground hard. Kerrass rolled free but his training was in me and I sprang to my feet. I was still holding the knife and I went for his eyes. Always go for the eyes as a man will do anything to avoid being blinded.

He avoided my strikes and I snarled in frustration as I went forwards again. Again and again he flowed out of the way like water.

Someone else was shouting.

Someone else was screaming.

I backed off to find some room and think about my strategy and I felt my wrist grabbed in an iron vice like grip. My arm was twisted and the agony was indescribable. I went with the movement so that the arm was twisted behind me. I drove myself backwards. I felt a strike on my wrist before hard fingers dug into tendons, forcing my hand open.

The knife fell.

An arm wrapped around my neck and I was yanked backwards as I scrabbled for the knife but it had been kicked out of reach.

There were footsteps, rushing feet and voices. I thrashed madly but I was ensnared now.

I screamed and then all at once I stopped.

I just stopped, I couldn't tell you why but it was like a light came on in my brain. My body fit myself again.

I wept and sobbed.

Then I vomited as the memory of how I had felt and the horror of it claimed me for a moment.

I had been turned face down. Immobilised completely, turning my head I could just see Laurelen kneeling beside me, heedless of the vomit on the floor squelching under her knees.

“I'm sorry,” I screamed at her. “Flame I am so sorry,”

“It's alright, hush now.”

Emma was stood a little way off, her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

“Dear flame Emma,” I howled. “What has he done?”

“I'm sorry.” I screamed it over and over. Screamed until my throat bled and my voice cracked.

Screamed until, in anguish, Emma begged Laurelen to help me. She spoke a couple of words of power and I dove head first into a black pit of oblivion.

(A/N: This story about Freddie's family has been planned for a long time. Specifically the red-herring regarding his sisters “secret” was planned and intended as far back as when Freddie and Kerrass were getting ready to go into the woods at Ambers crossing. This means that Emma's sexuality was planned and put in place when the character was first devised all that time ago and has never changed.

Neither she, nor I, are here to talk about, or make a point about, diversity in fiction, fanfic or otherwise. I am just here because I like telling stories and it just so happens that one of my stories happened to feature a gay woman.

Completely coincidentally it turns out that I ended up writing this chapter where Emma comes out to her baby brother (how she thinks of him) during the month of “Pride,” where people all over the world were coming out and marching to celebrate their sexuality in all of its wonderful variety and glory.

This needed to be pointed out to me. (As I say it was a coincidence) but maybe it is fitting that this should be the case.

I do not celebrate 'Pride'. This is because I am a happily married, heterosexual male. However I am proud. I am proud that my house is a place of safety and welcome for people regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. I am proud that my friends, some of whom fall elsewhere in the spectrum of sexuality and gender from myself, feel able to talk about such things without being made to feel uncomfortable and I am proud of the fact that they were able to march with pride in my home town without fear.

I am proud of all of those crazy diamonds, so shine on. You do you and keep rocking. I hope I've done a good job here.)