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opportunity to do it over again, would you change
anything? Could you change anything?”
    Somewhere
below glass shattered. “A foolish train of thought.”
    “Then you
understand I don’t need sympathy or guilt from you.”
    He
straightened. “What do you want of me?”
    She bent and
retrieved the blanket. The outing was at an end. “I don’t think you
have the courage to face my answer.”
    Some things
could not be spoken of.

Chapter
Five
     
    The man stands
uncertain before the precipice. He cannot trust, cannot take that
leap of faith. It is dark below, black as eternal night, and he is
afraid of what lies in those depths. She steps up to him, in the
end the only one who truly knows, and takes his hand. His fingers
are cold, deadly cold. Grey eyes, blue eyes.
    Lowen’s vision,
fourteen years after the Enchanter entered that other invisible
realm
     
     
    Krikian blew
in as a whirlwind after Lowen retired to bed.
    His golden
face was alight and filled with anticipation. He appeared in the
spartan main room, looking about with evident expectation.
    The rumours
had reached him in the industrial sector.
    His face fell
comically when he found the room unoccupied, and then a chuckle
from the tiny kitchen had him twirling around with a huge grin.
    Torrullin
emerged with a mug of coffee. “You should see your face. Folk could
write a thesis on the contrasts! Well met again, my friend.”
    Krikian was
speechless. It was one thing to hear something told; it was quite
another to see it presented. He did not know whether to fall to his
knees or grip his lord in an almighty embrace
    Torrullin
solved his dilemma for him. Setting the mug on the table, he opened
his arms wide.
    “My Lord,”
Krikian breathed, holding tight. “This is the best day of my
life.”
    He then held
the Enchanter at arm’s length to look him over, acting like an
over-protective brother, and Torrullin allowed it, although with
difficulty. Close scrutiny was never pleasant.
    “My Lord, it
has been too long. Still, you are not changed.”
    Torrullin
returned the sentiment with an amused glance. “You’ve changed,
Krikian. Wiser, I think.”
    Krikian
laughed and slapped those dear shoulders in a brotherly fashion,
and let go. “One learns independence when experiencing other
cultures.”
    “Very
true.”
    “Um, does my
Lord know that I am … er …”
    “I’m aware you
underwent the Ritual, yes.”
    “Does it
displease you?”
    Torrullin
inclined his head. “I haven’t given it thought. I guess I am
concerned. You don’t strike me as the kind of soul who’d want to
live forever.”
    The Valleur
shrugged. “I’m not so sure myself. If I’ve erred and realise it, I
can enter the Lifesource.” The Lifesource Temple of Valaris was the
only place in the universe where Immortality could be reversed.
    “The decision
is yours alone.”
    Lowen’s voice
intruded. “I’m considering paying a visit to said Temple.” She
entered, beaming welcome to Krikian.
    “Really?”
Krikian said. “You never mentioned it before.”
    She glared at
him. “Things change.”
    Torrullin
watched her. “Why?”
    “At this point
it’s mere consideration.”
    Krikian looked
from one to the other. Why was he in control of his choice,
although the Enchanter made it subtly clear he should consider
reversing, but Lowen was not afforded the same freedom?
    The Enchanter
did not want the Xenian seer to return to mortality, and it was
obvious to both of them without words being spoken. Why? Was it
merely the loss of an Immortal companion? Or did it go deeper? He
wished he witnessed their first meeting.
    He felt as if
he had walked into an on-going conversation - one two thousand
years old.
    “You should
consider carefully,” Torrullin muttered, turning away.
    There was a
strange expression on Lowen’s face, one Torrullin did not see, but
Krikian did.
    Elation? Had
he seen right?
    When she
glanced at him, he saw only curiosity. She came forward and kissed
him on the