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They’d been sell swords for nearly a decade and had gotten into more trouble than most people did their entire lives. That was fine with both, but this latest quest was grinding them down. Worse, Dorl was growing increasingly more focused on his love for Rekka Jel. Nothol knew that any slip of concentration might end with their deaths. He needed his friend to keep his mind clear.
    “You complain too much,” he chided. “Bahr has gotten us this far. Trust him to get us the rest of the way.”
    Dorl snorted. “The way to where? We’ve been attacked nonstop since fleeing Chadra. Sooner or later our luck will run out.”
    “Keep talking like that and it’ll be sooner. You’ve changed.”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    Nothol sighed. “I mean you used to be the fearless one. You never hesitated to jump into desperate situations. Now you’ve got a in your life I’m starting to think you handed her your balls.”
    “Mind your tongue, Nothol,” Dorl bristled. “I’m still dangerous enough to cut your tongue out.”
    Nothol laughed in his face and checked the string of his bow. “Now you’re delusional. You and I both know I’m better at swords, bows, and any other weapon you can think of. Stop trying to show off for your girlfriend.”
    Rekka sat atop the wheelhouse overhearing their conversation. Her soft, almond-shaped eyes lit up as they fell on Dorl. Amusement danced across her face. She felt no jealousy or anger off of Nothol Coll. Instead, their relationship sparked melancholy. She’d never had such strong ties of friendship and was envious of them. Her sword sharp and sitting in her lap, she continued to listen while thinking of how the villagers of Teng were going to receive her return.
    She’d been away for a very long time, more than five years. The dream masters trained her group to serve the gods of light. Never did they imagine the end battle for the world would occur in their lifetimes. Barely out of her teens, Rekka was sent to Trennaron to serve the last true Dae’shan, Artiss Gran. It was a great honor bestowed on the trainee with the highest scores and most prowess. Only one a generation received the detail. Rekka was honored. Her family would be heaped with pride until her dying days.
    The Dae’shan continued to serve the gods of light, defending the castle of Trennaron from evil influences. Many great secrets were stored within the castle. Secrets some argued were best left forgotten. The Mages often traveled deep into the jungle to share knowledge and even store their most precious lore with the guardian. Artiss Gran was the gentlest of souls. His even thinking and mild demeanor left him at odds with his fellow Dae’shan. The rift grew between them until he decided to flee. Amar Kit’han, now a servant of the dark gods, never forgave him.
    Rekka trained under Artiss for many years. Instead of weapons, she learned from books and maps. He entrusted her with a wealth of knowledge that few ever obtained. However good her life was, it was also cursed. She knew, as did Artiss, that the time was fast approaching when all of her skills and dedication would be put to the test and she might have to give her life for the cause of the righteous. Dying didn’t bother her. She came from dust and knew she must eventually return to it. Her life was solely dedicated to good. Developing emotions for Dorl left her exposed, suddenly uncertain.
    Love was unlike any other emotion she’d ever felt. Her pride in serving Artiss had gone unmatched for nearly a decade before she happened upon Dorl Theed. The sometimes foppish sell sword had a charm and charisma that compelled her attention. He was a good Man, even if he didn’t know it himself. Rekka considered herself fortunate to have found a Man she could confide in. She prayed their time together would be enough to fulfill their need for companionship. Both were lonely souls in need of more. She wasn’t sure she could provide more. Her death at the end