Relma and Estela did not enter Gel Carn at once; they had someone to meet on the way. So instead, they stopped by a large house that stood just outside the walls. It was surrounded by a large, well-made fence with a grown garden. Aunt Pan was in the front yard, painting runes. She'd never liked dwelling in the castles, so Relma had to live outside. She wore simple brown robes, and her dark hair fell around her majestically as always.

Despite her simple garb, she looked rather like a Princess or Queen.

Relma actually didn't mind this; stone walls had terrible insulation. And all the servants made her feel awkward. Especially when Steward Benarus had suggested they become permenant honored guests. Yes, Relma wanted to be king of Harlenor Reunited, but she didn't want the gold and jewels, so to speak.

It was the power to help people that appealed to her.

Aunt Pan's canvases were leather pieces, and she did not look up at once as they came. Pan finished her work with a look of concentration. Then she looked at them. "So you've returned at last, have you, Estela?"

"Yes," said Estela.

"Did you learn anything worthwhile?" asked Aunt Pan.

Estela considered it. "Possibly."

"Well, then the war might not have been a complete waste," said Pan. "Relma, I see you've come back also."

"Yes, Aunt Pan," said Relma. "Um, did Ajax come through here?"

"No," said Pan. "I thought he was with you."

"Why were you spending time with Ajax?" asked Estela.

"I've been teaching him swordplay," said Relma.

"Well then, I'm sure he'll end up dead if he ever tries to fight with a sword," said Estela with a sigh.

"Hey, I've gotten a lot better," said Relma.

"You've lost every fight you've ever been in," said Estela.

"You lost to Ajax too," said Relma, looking away. "And the first one, I didn't even have a sword."

"Fine, fine," said Estela. "Lady Pandora, Relma tells me there will be a tournament here. Is that true?"

"Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Argath Marn's raids have provided Gel Carn with an influx of money. Benarus is using this as a chance to draw attention here. There have been several invitations so far. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

"We took a route through the wilderness on our way here," said Estela. "We must have missed it."

"Ah, yes. The wilderness," said Pan. Her eyes became far away. "There is a lot of that in Southern Antion these days."

"Is something wrong, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.

"I just remembered how it used to be. There used to be villages and castles all across that area," said Pan, a sad smile coming to her face. "You couldn't walk a mile without coming to a farmstead of some kind."

"What happened?" asked Estela, looking interested.

"Many things," said Pan with a sigh. "Most of them Baltoth's fault. King Anoa IX died in an ambush. There was a great civil war that ravaged the land. The Withering called forth undead. A demonic invasion swept into the southern reaches. Over many years, the area was depopulated.

"Now it is just Southern Antion. This place used to be the heart of Harlenor."

Relma shifted. "I'll rebuild it someday, Aunt Pan," she promised.

"Stop making promises you can't keep, Relma," said Aunt Pan in a tired tone. "It would take generations to repopulate these lands. And Laevian would never allow it." She looked at the rune she'd been working on. "Wonderful, I made one of the marks wrong. I'll have to scrap the whole project."

"What?" said Relma. "But that one looks good."

"I am devoted to quality in my work," said Pan. "If this rune fails, my client will complain to his family and friends. They'll never buy from me again." She moved with one hand, and the rune melted away into nothingness. "Waste of good ink.

Estela cleared her throat. "At any rate, I'd like to enter this tournament if I can."

"Well, you'd have to be a knight to do that," said Relma. "Though, given where you've been, I could see you being knighted. Assuming you did well.

"You did do well, didn't you?"

"I stood my ground and killed several raishans," said Estela. "Also, two Calishans."

"How unfortunate for them," said Pan. "I really do have to finish this rune."

"What is it for? asked Estela.

"A blacksmith is concerned that fairies are getting into his stores," said Pan.

"Aren't fairies pained by iron?" asked Estela.

"Yes," said Pan. "I did warn him that it was unlikely, but it's his choice to purchase my services. And once I've given my warning, who am I to complain?"

"Couldn't you just kill the fairies?" asked Estela.

Relma looked up in shock. Why would Estela suggest something like that? Pan looked on with irritation. "No, there aren't many left. You can thank Relma's ancestor, Anoa the Bright, for all that."

"What did he do?" asked Estela.

"Well, the fairy's as a race was always close with the elves," said Aunt Pan. "They exist between the physical and the spiritual realm. Thanks to their alliance, the fairies were always talking with the spirits. As a result, they ensured that humanity could not get the food they needed to increase in population. And also that those who rebelled against the elves could not get food at all.

"Trees would draw back from rebels' hands, and water would recede when they tried to drink. It ensured starting a rebellion incredibly difficult."

"Why would they do that?" asked Relma.

"The elves regarded humanity as a tolerated blight on the environment," said Pan. "They admitted that humans had a right to exist but were ridged in ensuring they got no further.

"Not that it did any good against Anoa."

"What did he do?" asked Relma.

"When trees would not bear him fruit, he hacked them down and used them to fuel forest fires. When the rivers refused to quench his thirst, he had his men drink the blood of horses. Then he threw the bodies into the rivers," said Pan before catching their blank look. "Horses were a breed of swift creatures that lived on the plains of Escor. Elves rode them into battle, similar to the halfling wolves.

"The elves had made pacts with them so that they would never help any other race. Anoa attempted to make an alliance with them several times. But they always stayed true to their oaths.

"So Anoa killed them all and ate them. He had a policy of never leaving a living enemy behind him."

"Well, he was our greatest king for a reason," said Estela.

"But what about the fairies?" asked Relma.

"Anoa hated them especially," said Pandora. "Their casual outlook on others suffering infuriated him. You see when he was twelve, he had a scuffle with an elven boy who attacked him and sent him packing. The elf was chided and sent to bed without supper.

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"Anoa was sentenced to go without food for a month. All of the spirits were forbidden from helping him in the region. Anoa's response was to walk out of the province to find someone that would help him. While he was traveling, looking for food, fairies made jokes at his expense.

"So he made common cause with a fire spirit and burned the place to the ground. A deer was caught by a falling tree, and he killed it, before eating his fill amidst the flames.

"That was the story he told me when I tried to convince him not to wipe out the entire species. Anoa was hundreds of years old at the time, and he had a mindset that he was a representative of humanity as a whole. If something had happened to him, clearly, it would have happened to many other people. So individual injustices dealt to him became justifications for mass slaughter. All on an unprecedented scale.

"Gwendovan and Orsen were the only people who could talk sense into him."

"Did he solve any of his problems without purging a species?" asked Relma.

"Well, at one point," said Pan, "there was a famine in a region of Escor. Merchants from other lands were gouging the local populace for the food they so needed. And local lords in surrounding lands were doing nothing.

"Anoa sent them a letter to all the local lords telling them to behave. Just as humans ought to other humans or 'suffer his extraordinary displeasure.' Just that.

The lords quickly arranged for the excess harvest to be sent to aid them free of charge. No one wanted to find out what Anoa was like when extraordinarily displeased. So the famine passed, and peace was restored."

"Violence was his answer to everything, wasn't it?" asked Relma.

"It was a different time," said Pan. "Anoa was loved by humanity. He made them the dominant power in Harlenor and drove out all their enemies. He then did exactly the same thing to those enemies that they were doing to his people.

"Unfortunately, elves, fairies, and dragons don't repopulate as quickly as humans."

"What about the goblins?" asked Estela.

Pan sighed. "Those Anoa wiped out just in case."

"What do you mean?" asked Relma.

"Anoa was paranoid as well as brutal. He believed that the humans defeated the elves thanks to superior numbers. And he was afraid the goblins could do the same to humans. If they ever organized, that is," said Pan. "So he took steps to destroy them all.

"As far as I know, he succeeded.

"But to get back on the point, Estela, I think you stand a decent chance at getting knighted in time for the tournament."

"What about me?" asked Relma.

"Relma, you didn't even go to Khasmir," said Pan, looking at her in surprise.

"Because you refused to let me go!" said Relma.

"Estela has years of training under her belt," said Pan. "Ronald was the squire of Sir Frederick. You were neither. It would be murder sending you out there into battle."

"Well, I still retrieved Lightning Trail!" said Relma.

"Relma, you only just began training with the sword a few months ago," said Estela. "What makes you think you're qualified to fight there?"

"Hey, I've gotten a lot better," said Relma.

"Not better enough, I'm afraid, dear," said Pan, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Train for a year or two, and then we'll talk about going into battle."

Estela stretched her neck. "Come on, Relma. Why don't you show me how your skills have advanced. If nothing else, it will make me look good to crush you."

"You might be surprised," said Relma.

Estela led Relma away to a field just outside the house. There she drew her sword and flourished it. "So, who is the Master of Arms at this point?"

Relma drew the blade. "To be honest, most of the fighting men went off in the second wave to Artarq. The castle has been downright empty lately. It's why I figured I'd live with Aunt Pan."

"So, who is the Master of Arms?" asked Estela.

"That would be me." said a voice.

Estela shuddered and saw an ordinary-looking man walking out of the woods. He went clad in black clothes and had dark hair to the neck and a slight beard. Estela narrowed her eyes. "Davian? How do you do that?"

"Do what?" asked Davian.

"Appear just out of nowhere when no one is looking," said Estela.

"If no one was looking, how could you know from where and when I appeared?" asked Davian. Estela met his gaze. Davian stared back. Eventually, she looked away. "So you're the Master of Arms? What are you doing out here?"

"In the sense that I am responsible for overseeing the remaining troops. And also the distribution of weapons," said Davian. "As for what I am doing out here, I am talking with you."

"But... I always thought you were Benarus' footman!" said Estela.

"I fulfill many essential duties for the castle of Gel Carn," said Davian. "Usually when no one else may do so. Here is the sword you wanted, Relma? Lightning Trail really shouldn't be used for spars."

He drew a blade and tossed it to her. Relma caught it in her hands. "But I didn't even ask for one yet."

"I heard you talking," said Davian. "Estela, I should be on your guard. Relma has advanced greatly over the past few months."

"I've been to war, Davian. I think I can fend for myself," said Estela. "Heir of Kings or no."

Davian smiled. "As you say. You'd best put Lightning Trail aside. It would not be due for it to be damaged."

Relma doubted that Lightning Trail could be damaged. But she obeyed anyway. When she was in Gel Carn, Relma had begun to suspect that Davian was not human. He appeared in places without warning and unnerved everyone he spoke with. Even Steward Benarus.He had command over guards. But no one ever saw those guards. Relma had the feeling he wasn't exactly human. Probably a spirit or something bound to Gel Carn.

Either way, she took her stance across from Estela. Estela took a low guard. Then they clashed. Relma went on the offensive at once. She repeatedly slashed at Estela, and Estela yielded ground in surprise. Within moments she nearly fell from her feet. Then Relma lost her momentum, and Estela struck back.

In the next few moments, Relma was forced to give ground. She tried to slip around Estela's guard. But she overextended, and Estela motioned with her wrist. Relma's sword flew from her hand and landed with the point down in the dirt.

Estela motioned to it, and Relma picked it up.

"How did you get so good so quickly?" asked Estela.

"I've been practicing a lot," said Relma.

"For a few months," said Estela, sounding a bit offended. "I've been training with weapons my entire life!"

"I guess..." Relma paused. "I guess it just came naturally. I've heard that if you were really good at something in a past life and learned it in another, you pick it up more easily."

Estela took a stance. "Maybe. Let's go again."

Relma did so. For a moment, they paused. Then Estela lunged. Relma deflected several strikes, only to have her sword beaten down. A blade was at her throat. "Wow, Estela, that was... how do you move so quickly?"

"I picked up a few things while in Khasmir," said Estela, stepping back. "You've got a long way to go before you're anywhere near my level."

This was at least partially bluster. Relma was much closer to Estela than Estela would like to admit, wasn't she? "Do you think I could make it in the tournament, though? If I were able to enter?"

Estela walked on, with Relma trailing behind. "No. You'd embarrass yourself. And don't even think about sneaking through. You know as well as I that your Aunt Pan would spot you a mile away.

"And this time, Arengeth isn't around to bail us out."

"Right," said Relma. Estela had said that too quickly.

She let herself trail behind Estela and went to get Lightning Trail back. Davian had disappeared, as usual. But, as she sat down on a stone and looked at Lightning Trail, a shadow was cast over her. She looked up and saw Anoa the Bright. "Hello, Relma."

He was different somehow. He was clad in a white tunic and pants. His hair was cut shorter, and he was sitting cross-legged in front of her. Even sitting, he was taller than her, though.

"Anoa?" asked Relma. "When did you get here?"

"I've always been here, if you must know," said Anoa. "Though not always in the same form." Relma peered at him. Something was different. About his posture. His expression. His face seemed to radiate light, and his hair was brighter, almost shining gold. But it was all on the surface. "You seem a bit different."

"How so?" he inquired, smiling. It was not a pleasant smile.

"I don't know, I mean, you're a bit more outwardly fair," said Relma.

"No doubt with inner malice." laughed Anoa. "That's natural. The more you learn history, the more you realize there are no perfect heroes. You've seen beneath the facade of perfection, and so you perceive me differently."

"That was what I guessed," said Relma. "I never got a chance to thank you for guiding us back then. If you hadn't come along, we'd have never found Lightning Trail."

"Probably not," said Anoa. "But then, if things had gone poorly, I'd have accidentally led you to your death. In retrospect leading you to the cave of a powerful ogre sorcerer was not my best judgment call." His gaze turned to Lightning Trail. "Not my worst, though."

"What was your worst?" asked Relma.

"I have enough contenders to fill a thousand books," said Anoa. "History tends to be determined more by mistakes than success. But, as a great man, it is only fair I have my share of them.

"But enough of this.

"You want to enter the Tournament of Kings, don't you?"

"Yes," said Relma. "Of course, but Aunt Pan-"

"Has only your best interests at heart, I'm sure," said Anoa. "But I've always believed that failing is the best way to learn. The man who fails a thousand times is better than the man who never tries."

"I guess I could wait for the next tournament," noted Relma.

"I suppose you could," said Anoa.

He looked at her. Relma met his gaze, tinged with amusement. She realized he was waiting for her. He wanted her to make the first move. "...Do you have a way I can participate in the Tournament of Kings?"

"But of course, milady," said Anoa, rising to his feet. "I'm surprised you had to ask. If you wish, I can disguise you so that even Pandora would not notice you. Of course, you'll need a suit of armor, but I'm sure I can arrange for that."

"How?" asked Relma.

Anoa smiled. "There are many ancient treasure troves throughout this land. Places where I hid valuables in times long past. I will take you to one such place.

"Follow me, and I will get you armor."

"Right, I'll just finish my chores, and then we can go," said Relma. "I have some things I have to do before I can go."

"Whenever you want," said Anoa. "Just remember to bring bags."

Relma had a bad feeling about this. But how else was she going to get into the tournament? And she also felt that Anoa was something more or less than what he appeared. She wanted to know the truth.