There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea,
You became the light on the dark side of me,
Love remains a drug that's the high and not the pill
But did you know that when it snows,
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can't be seen?

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray,
The more I get of you the stranger it feels, yah!
And now that your rose is in bloom-
A light hits the gloom on the gray.

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say,
You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain!
Baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.
Won't you tell me, is that healthy, babe?
But did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can't be seen?

Baby, I often compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray,
The more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah!
And now that your rose is in bloom-
A light hits the gloom on the gray.

I've been kissed by a rose on the gray.
I've been kissed by a rose on the gray.
And if I should fall in love on the way,
I've been kissed by a rose on the gray.

There is so much a man can tell you, so much he can say,
You remain, my power, my pleasure, my pain!
To me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny.
Won't you tell me, is that healthy, baby?
But did you know that when it snows
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can't be seen?

Baby, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the gray,
Oh, the more I get of you the stranger it feels, yeah!
Now that your rose is in bloom,
A light hits the gloom on the gray.
Now that your rose is in bloom,
A light hits the gloom on the gray.
                                 -Kiss from a Rose- by Seal



	Chapter 4


	Aurora hung in that place between all things, that other life-time
taking no more that twenty beats of her heart to spin themselves out.
She was unaware that Time, which held no power here, had continued past
her. She didn't know that Endymion had once again found his Princess,
but in doing so, had been so injured that when the Darkness stole him
from her, his spirit could not resist it's influence. The blinding light
flowed through her, brought her back into awareness. Or more
appropriately, the lack of awareness. She couldn't feel, couldn't see,
couldn't breath!

	*Out! I have to get out!*

	A tentative tendril of rainbow hued light stretched out, searching for
something familiar to lock onto, anything that could guide it's creator
out of the Void.


				***************


	Malachite had had just about as much of this arrogant Prince as he
could stand.

	"So. You are sure you have learned all that I have to teach you," he
stated, his tone full of bored contempt as he crossed his arms across
his chest.

	Endymion smirked as he nodded and mimicked Malachite's posture. "Quite
sure."

	Malachite's eyes turned hard and cold. "Then prove it."

	"I don't think that My Lady Beryl would take kindly to my killing you,"
Endymion's voice oozed with confidence and scorn.

	Malachite bit back his response and let the room fill with his venom
laced laugh instead. This verbal sparring and lack of respect was
becoming annoying. The Queen had given him the task of schooling this
newborn High Youma, and that's just what he was going to do.

	"I was thinking something more along the lines of a test."

	He narrowed his eyes at his student and seemed to take his measure. His
frown showed that he found him lacking.

	"What kind of test?" Endymion responded, the mask of scorn replaced
with cautious curiosity.

	"There is a youma that haunts the outskirts of the Kingdom. It has
become something of a rite, a test of courage and power to try to ride
him."

	Malachite summoned a shadow from the place where it resided with a
small gesture of his fingers, letting Endymion see the ebon horse-shaped
youma give chase to a lesser thing. It's hooves left U shaped embers in
the ground from it's passing as it veered into the lesser youma and
knocked it off it's feet, then reared up and came down with both front
hooves, ending the hunt. Endymion's eyes reflected the same satisfied
blood lust as the glowing white fire of the youma's as it lowered it's
head to feed.

	"What a magnificent creature!" He whispered to himself with a pleased
grin.

	"We call him Shadow-spawn because he has a nasty habit of not being
quite where you think he is," Malachite answered in an indifferent tone.

	There. That was as much as he would give him.

	"You've ridden him?" Endymion asked, his eyes still on the shadow.

	"Oh, yes. I rode him. So have a handful of others," he said with a
taunting smile.

	He wouldn't tell this annoying newborn that it was for all of thirty
yards and that he still carried the scar on his left shoulder from a
glancing blow of it's hoof as he barely managed to roll out of the way
when it had thrown him. Zoicite's quick thinking had saved him from a
great deal of pain that day. He closed his eyes against the memory of
his lovers face and fought to keep his features hard. He missed him so
much. And he refused to let Endymion see any sign of this weakness in
his teacher. 

	"Well, if you could do it, then I should have no problem. In fact, I
think I will tame this youma and give him to the Queen as a gift. She'd
like that, don't you think?" There was a restless excitement and hunger
for danger reflected in his eyes and face.

	"Oh, I'm sure she'd think it a marvelous gift, Prince Endymion. She
will love you all the more for it. And when you do, then I shall state
before the Queen herself that you have no more need of my training,"
Malachite said it with firm assurance, careful to hide the malevolent
intent under it. "Would you like me to summon a Gate for you?"

	Endymion frowned at him for a moment, suspicious. Malachite just
returned a level gaze, his face betraying nothing of his intentions.
Endymion finally nodded as he wondered what his teacher was up to.

	"I'll have it leave you on the outskirts of his territory."

	The air darkened between them as the Gate opened.

	"Have fun," Malachite told him with a sneer as Endymion went with one
step from The Dark Fortress and into the wilder regions of the Dark
Kingdom.

	
	He quickly hunted down a tender morsel for the youma and left it
tethered and moaning in fear with a simple geas spell in the center of a
shallow, valley like hollow in the Dark Forest's rolling landscape as a
lure then hid himself upwind behind a twisted screen of foot-long
thorns. He created the lasso while he waited, spinning the thin gossamer
rope out of his power and his will.  This was one of the few useful
spells that he'd had to practice under Malachite's aloof instruction.
His plan was to sneak up on the youma as it fed, cast the lasso around
it's neck as he mounted and then let it run itself into exhaustion. It
was so simple. Why hadn't anyone else done it?

	Perhaps they had tried and failed. He would not fail. He gave a hard,
cold smile as he thought of his Queen's pleasure with this proof of his
prowess. And how Malachite would have to admit once and before all that
he, Prince Endymion, the new Champion of the Dark Queen and the black
Power she served, was the better of the two of them. He didn't have to
wait long. He knew the youma was there before he saw it, could feel it's
wild presence. Finally the dark shape loomed out of the shadows under
the trees. He could see Shadow-spawn's sides expand as he drew in great
breaths of air and exhaled them in roiling clouds of steam, his ears up
and twitching back and forth as his forked tongue flicked like a
serpents to taste the air with suspicion.

	*He knows it's a trap, yet still he comes!* Endymion thought in
delight.

	Suddenly the youma was at his bait.

	*Damn, he's fast!* he wasn't even sure if he saw it move.

	The youma struck with one hoof and stunned the now screaming morsel
into silence then lowered it's head to bury it's fangs into his treats
jugular and began to suck. Endymion dropped his gaze for a moment to
check the loop in his hand. When he raised his eyes again, the youma was
gone.

	*What?*

	The blow hit his back like a bolt of lightning and knocked the wind out
of him and he flew forwards through the sharp thorns. His body relaxed
and rolled with the instinct of hours of long training as he tumbled
down the incline into the hollow. At the bottom, he used the momentum of
his fall to bring him to his feet, cursing mentally as he tried to get
some air back into his lungs.

	Hot steam burned the back of his neck. He made a staggering whirl and
ended up nose to nose with the youma. He took an involuntary step
backwards, his power forming in his hand as a black rose as the youma
reared up over him with a ringing roar that sounded suspiciously like
laughter. Then it paused and narrowed the white glow of it's eyes at
him. Endymion threw the rose, but his aim was slightly off. It dug a
deep furrow along the angle of the youma's shoulder blade. He summoned
another, was about to launch it when the youma's hooves hit him square
in the chest leaving their impression deep in the armor as he arced
backwards to the ground, unconscious.

	Shadow-spawn didn't bring his weight down with the killing blow.
Instead he took care to make sure his hooves landed to either side of
this Darkling's head. He lowered his big head, turned it from one side
to the other as he studied the still form between his feet, then flicked
his tongue against it's skin to taste it. This one was similar, but it
wasn't the One he was waiting for. He reared up again, intending to
finish his kill and to keep the place he had been created to guard and
wait at safe. He let out his ringing scream again. This time anger and
fury colored it as a Gate opened and snatched the still body away before
he could bring his weight back down. But the gate had left something in
the Darkling's place. He shied off from the painful rainbow sheen of the
oval of light and fled back into the shadows of the trees to watch. The
bright ribbons of light unwound and dissipated into twinkling sparks to
reveal the two figures that had been inside.


				***************


	Beryl was deep in meditation when the wards she'd set up around her
Chosen Consort went off. In the time it took for her heart to beat once,
she'd sent the Gate and brought Endymion to her. She knelt next to his
still form, her hand trembling just a little as she extended it and held
it over his chest. Her black and orange power flowed over him, showing
her his injuries.

	*Painful but not serious,* she hissed out a breath of relief, then
growled, "Malachite!" as she reached out and yanked him to her.

	Malachite stumbled a little as he appeared, Beryl having made the gate
leave him a few inches above the floor. He took one look at his students
prone body and went to his knee, his head bowed in submission and right
arm across his chest, the fist closed over his heart in the gesture of
respect.

	"Explain this!" Beryl yelled at him as she gestured at Endymion's still
form.

	"He wished to test his powers, Queen Beryl. He was certain he was ready
and I could not reason with him. You said I was to be lenient, my
Queen."

	Beryl narrowed her orange eyes at him, caught in that truth. "Well,
obviously he wasn't."

	*Obviously.* Malachite lowered his head further to keep his smile from
the Queen's sight.

	Only the slow tap of the nail of her forefinger against the arm of her
throne indicated her seething displeasure as she kept Malachite in that
cramped posture of submission before her for many minutes. What would be
an appropriate punishment? She wanted something subtle yet painful
enough to remind him of his place. She thought back to the last time she
had kept him waiting like this. It had been when he had come to report
that Zoicite's had finally died. It had taken that youma long enough.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. *Yes, that would do nicely.*

	"Since you were the one that allowed him to get damaged, you will tend
to him as he recovers. And with the same tenderness and care as you
would show your dead Zoicite," Beryl commanded him in a soft sweet
voice.

	She laughed inwardly as that brought his head up with a snap, his face
showing his anger and grief for a moment, but only a moment.

	"And know this Malachite, if any harm comes to him again under your
tutelage, I will make sure that for every wound he takes, you will take
ten. Do you understand?"

	"Yes Queen Beryl," his voice was calm and firm, but she saw the flicker
of fear in his eyes.

	"Take him then. I will come to you later to check on him."

	She watched as he carefully lifted Endymion into his arms, then step
through the Gate she called for them.


					***

	Malachite resisted the urge to just drop Endymion the three feet onto
the bed, sure that Beryl would be watching for a while through a
shadow.  He busied his hands at his task, took off the sword belt and
hip guards and leaned them against the wall, then worked on the chest
armor. He held it at arms length once he'd gotten it off and turned it
in his hands to examine the U shaped indentations on it's front and back
with a grim smile of satisfaction. The Prince had been lucky. Malachite
had seen Shadow-spawn put his hoof all the way through many other youma.
He must have been in a playful mood today.

	He set it next to Endymion's sword, then turned his attention to the
still unconscious Prince himself. He undid his shirt and probed the hoof
shaped bruises on Endymion's chest. Ribs cracked but not broken. Good.
He'd be in pain for a while, something to remind him that his teacher
did know more than the student. Malachite rolled him onto his side and
pulled the sleeve off his arm so he could see the damage to his back. On
this side the hoof prints were red welts and blisters burned into the
flesh under his shoulder blades. That had to have hurt. He left Endymion
on his side as he went to collect some bandages and a jar of healing
salve.

	He had intended to be harsh with his doctoring, but for some reason his
hands would not obey the resentment in his mind. Endymion stirred and
flinched away from his gentle fingers as he applied the salve.

	"What happened, Malikai?" Endymion muttered as he flitted in and out of
consciousness as Malachite pulled him up into a sitting position and let
him lean against him as he wound the bandage around his chest.

	"You did something stupid, 'Mion. Now, be quite so I can get this
done," he answered, not registering what he'd been called or the words
of his reply, his attention focused on finishing the bandage.

	Endymion was out again as he lowered him back to the bed.

	*Malikai?* He thought, startled as he registered what Endymion had
said. *Why did he call me that?*

	He frowned at the young youma beside him as his eyes narrowed. He knew
that name. But from where? He ran that short conversation back through
his memory.

	*'Mion? Why did I call him that? Malakai? Who is...*

	The pain hit, listed him sideways and off of the bed. He collapsed onto
the floor in a tight huddle, hands pressed to his forehead. Finally it
subsided, leaving him gasping and weak.

	*What was that? A geas? But from where and why? Something to do with my
memory...* he started to form the name in his mind, thrust it from him
as the pain stabbed again.

	He recognized the flavor of it.

	*Beryl. But why? What doesn't she want me to remember?* he reached out
to the chair to his right and pulled himself up into it. He rubbed at
his throbbing temples. He'd have to be careful as he explored this,
tried to find his way around the pain and find what Beryl had hidden
from him.


				***************	 


	The young, black haired woman pushed herself into a sitting position
and drew gulping breaths of air as she blinked in confusion at the
strangely lit alien landscape while the memories of two lives waged war
in her mind. She wasn't sure if the person next to her was Nathan or
Nephlyte. All she did know was that thing in his body had to come out,
now! She moved to straddle his chest and gripped the ends of the roots.
It was hard to focus, to pull what little power she had left to shield
her hands from the cold, sucking force of them. She undid the spell of
binding that kept it in his flesh, then drew it out quickly, his
unconscious body arching under her in pain as she did.

	The roots came back to wiggling life in her hands, tried to wrap
themselves around her wrists and fingers. She flung them away with a
little shriek and shuddered with disgust. Nathan stirred a little under
her and she moved off him so he could breath easier, then covered her
mouth with one hand to stifle her cry as she realized the extent of the
fierce wounds that covered him. He was dying! Endymion's image as she
had last seen it overlaid Nathan's.

	*Not again. I won't let it happen again...* she put both hands on his
chest, closed her eyes so she wouldn't see his blood covering them.

	The healing spell was beyond her strength to cast.

	*No...please!* she moaned, begging with the Light.

	She tried again and again. In the other vision of her power she watched
as the glow of his life-force dwindled to a flickering spark. She went
beyond learned spells and reached out and grabbed that spark, held onto
it with all of her will.

	"Help me!" She screamed it in soul and voice, pleading with any power
that would listen.

	What answered her cry of despair was neither of the Light or the
Darkness, but something older. She suddenly knew what she had to do, yet
hesitated. Such a thing skirted the edges of the Darkness, a place where
she had so far refused to go. But if she did not do it, and now, Nathan
would be lost to her.

	Shadow-spawn growled as the Dark Avatar of the dying High Youma flamed
into existence to hover over the body it belonged to. He took a step
forwards, ready to move to protect the One he had been waiting for, then
shied back into the shadows again as the female shaped spirit of the One
formed to greet it in a flair of jewel colors. She held her hands out to
the Dark Avatar. It retreated from her, drawing in on itself with a
hiss, full of pain and fear of her light.

	"Nathan," the creature of light summoned.

	The Dark Avatar withdrew a little more, then rushed at her with a
growl. The two came together in a whirling dance of power. They spun and
mingled, the black flame of his soul leeching the colors from hers as
her colors consumed his black flame. The two separate life-forces melded
into one, their light no longer black or jeweled, but silver gray. It
was done. The avatars separated reluctantly and flowed back into the
bodies of the woman and the youma.

	She sagged with boneless exhaustion across Nathan's battered chest.
Done. She had bound his life to her own. As long as she lived he could
not die. The part of her that was Aurora rebelled in panic, overwhelmed.
Her life, her memories where slipping away as Althea's strengthened. She
didn't want to remember any more of Althea or her lost life or strange
powers. She refused to! She was Aurora! She said it again and again and
pushed the awareness of her other self into the far depths of her mind
as she slid into unconsciousness.