Walking up the beach toward the rugged rocks banking around it, Cherry wondered how she would get to the area from where the light shone. Nearing the bank of rocks, she noticed a narrow path in the sand carved between the stones; careful not to cut herself, she walked between them and soon found herself stepping onto an open space covered with beach sand; there were various directions she could take, but her instinct drew her toward the soft light. Striding across the sand, she gasped as she skidded to a halt on the banks of a broad, fast-running river.

"How am I supposed to cross you?" she whispered, looking around for anything that would get her to the other side. The gloom was thick, bringing darkness over the waters. Looking up, Cherry noticed clouds above through holes in the stone roof.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have a little light," she sighed, straining her eyes to find any type of bridge she could use.

A soft glow entered the darkness, surprised Cherry glanced around, expecting it to come from someone from inside, but there was nothing. Looking up, Cherry found the sun shining through round portals on the cave roof. The light felt puritanical and a surreal guide to her destiny. Looking at the river again, she smiled as stepping stones were revealed as the light moved across the water. She had a time limit. Quickly moving to the first stone, Cherry began hopping from one to the other before the light moved on and left the unique bridge in darkness once more. Finally, on the other side, Cherry sighed, breathing through her lips. The soft glow drew her on; walking more carefully, she drew closer, finding the soft light on an island. Searching all the way around, Cherry returned to her initial place, looking for a way to get across.

"Why would I be brought this far and then find I'm unable to get across?" she whispered, "is this some kind of cruel trick? Did I claim my heritage in time? Has someone else claimed it, and this is nothing but a dream?"

"You claimed it in time," a soft female voice spoke, "no one has stolen it from you, and this is not a dream."

Cherry's eyes darted from side to side as she scanned the shadows on the other side of the island. It was darkness, the soft glow of the isle not penetrating the gloom.

"Who is there? Who speaks?" she asked her voice ringing in the empty space, a slight echo of her words returning to her.

"I speak," a tall, beautiful woman with long waist-length hair hanging loosely down her back stepped out of the deep shadow and moved toward her, "I answer my queen's questions."

Cherry frowned, "Who is your queen?"

The woman smiled, "The one who claimed the heritage," she glanced over her shoulder, nodding, "and your ancestor will be here shortly to complete the coming of age."

"My ancestor?" Cherry asked, frowning, "are you saying someone dead will be appearing to complete that ..." she glanced around, "coming of age ritual."

"The dead cannot rise without a divine breath," the woman said, "the person who will be appearing is alive, and no ritual will be performed, but the heritage shall pass on."

Cherry nodded in understanding, "When does this person appear? "

"She shall," the woman smiled, "shortly ... she is on her way."

Stan shot into the never-ending flow of people coming through the entrance. Bodies dropped, but the others stepped over the fallen and kept coming. He understood that blowing the entry was not permitted; therefore, he needed to get to the bridge to destroy the flow.

"Carl," he called as he made his way toward the intently focused man firing with deadly precision into the teaming arrivals, "we need to close the bridge; otherwise, what is happening below won't mean a damn thing."

"What do you have in mind?" Carl asked.

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"Do you have superhuman fighters who can take out a sniper?" Stan asked, "I'm not going to make it two feet with him hunting me down."

They ducked behind a large stone as the floor where they crouched peppered between them.

"I see what you mean," Carl said, "I think we may have a few who can help you."

Letting out a shrill whistle, he waited as five people broke away from their positions and moved toward them. Waiting until they all arrived, Carl scanned the other side of the deep lake; he immediately spotted the sniper targeting them and took a scope reading.

"What do you need, Sir?" the final arrival asked.

"Someone to take out the sniper at this reading while the others scan for other possible opponents in taking out the bridge," Carl said, handing him the scope, "can someone do the task?"

The five looked at each other before meeting Stan and Carl's gazes. The self-appointed leader nodded.

"We can all do the task but taking out the bridge ..." he said, shaking his head, "we are not permitted to do that."

"You may have restrictions," Stan said, "but I don't. If that bridge is not destroyed, all of this will be for nothing. It has to be done; it can be repaired ... or rebuilt."

"I'm sure it can, but it's been there for generations," the leader said, "now, during the coming of age and claiming of heritage process ... it's not the time to break our links with the past, and it's not permitted ... by anyone."

"Someone take out that sniper," Carl said as the stone above them shattered with the intensity of the high-velocity round, "and find the others and terminate them."

The leader pointed at two members of the five, leaving three remaining; he tracked them until they were safely set up and carrying out the task.

"Why can we not destroy the bridge?" Stan asked, "there has to be a way of stopping that flowing coming across and cornering them between our forces here and those coming up the mountain."

A frown puckered the exposed forehead, and the eyes behind the black leather mask tightened, "There is a way of accomplishing that," he said, "instead of destroying it, you can disable it."

"Explain that," Carl said, "disable how?"

"There is a rope holding each corner to the posts," he said, shrugging, "its an old style but has been effective for centuries," he glanced at one of his teammates as a single shot reverberated across the mountaintop, "if you could either cut or preferably untie one side allowing the bridge to hang down the crevice by the other attached sides it would stop the flow but not destroy it and the link to the past."

"I can give that a try," Stan nodded, "what will happen if I have to cut the ropes?"

"The back door will be out of order until new ropes are woven," the leader said, looking at the other two with him. He looked at Carl and Stan, "we could cover you as you make your way to the bridge, but you'd have to get under it to accomplish your task."

"Awesome," Stan said, smiling, "more fun. Let's go."

Carl grasped his arm, pressing the handles of a long-bladed knife into his hand, "That is what you'll need to get through those ropes."

Nodding, Stan checked his gun's magazine, sliding it back into place, "Let's save your people."

"Garan," Rilea gasped, pressing her hand to her chest as she rested against her husband's back, "she has arrived. I need to leave."

"Go," Garan said, over his shoulder, "we will cover your exit and stop these abominations from getting into our home."

"I cannot leave my people. There are too many opponents," Rilea said, looking around at the fighting and feeling a spark of despair flicker, "there are too many," she jumped back, gasping as three black-clad warriors with a non-related human dressed in their warrior gear and dripping with weapons dropped to the floor directly in front of them.

The three warriors quickly acknowledge Rilea and Garan before forming a protective half-moon as Stan pushed to his feet.

"Yes, you can leave your people," the non-related human said, "I'm Stan; I came in with Carl and Jeff and saving your people and heritage and whatever else you guys need is why we're here," he smiled, looking at Garan, "I'm going to disable the bridge, and these guys are going to help me get there ..." he pointed a the three fighting around him, "do you have any objections to that?"

"You're not one of us; therefore, I cannot," Garan said, "but the bridge cannot be destroyed otherwise; everything we have is destroyed. Your way seems the only way to stop their forces from getting to us. Godspeed and good fortune, outsider and thank you."

Stan nodded, giving a cheeky bow and turned into the fighting, shooting anyone not on the defending side, "Let's go."

Rilea and Garan watched them disappear into the fray before looking at each other and grinning.

"Our prayers have been answered," Garan said, "now go."

Rilea turned toward the back entrance of their home as Garan uttered a warbling cry drawing a thicker wall of defence as their current queen made her way toward the coming of age and the success in protecting their heritage.