Senar gasped as Vell caught her breath. Vell had known that they were most likely the only Blessed Spirit Speakers, but she had always thought that there were other Speakers that chose to use their ability for enjoyment.

“Why… What do you mean?” Senar questioned.

“A Speaker died two days ago,” Luttuv explained. “His death leaves only the two of you.”

“Can’t you make a child a Speaker?” Vell asked, concerned and wondering what this meant for them.

Both High Spirits shook their heads. “There are none that are worthy,” Epofsuk answered, midnight eyes cautious.

“Will there be any soon?” Senar asked.

“We are not sure,” Epofsuk replied. “We are certain of only one fact.”

Luttuv smiled. “Should you two ever have children together they will surely be Speakers.”

Vell tried not to act surprised, though she was. She glanced at Senar. He looked shocked and raised an eyebrow at her.

Epofsuk chuckled. “We’re only giving you facts.”

They nodded, still surprised at the Spirits’ straight forwardness.

“Meanwhile,” Luttuv continued, “we will do our best to keep you healthy and to help in your missions for the Temple. We will protect you in every way we can.”

“Thank you,” Vell said and Senar gave his thanks as well.

The Spirits all faded and the mist followed. The thunder stopped and the clouds parted. Vell and Senar looked at each other.

“That was... strange,” Senar said comically.

Vell smiled. “It very much was.”

The sound of footsteps and an odd foreboding woke Vell two nights later. She nudged Senar. The way they had been sleeping, he could see over her shoulder and she saw his eyes widen. Before she could ask what was wrong, something hit her and everything went black. She never heard Senar yell.

A shadow stretched over Algoma City. A black figure stood atop a tower on the castle.

“Welcome me!” it yelled in a male voice. “I have returned! Fear not! Your king has returned!”

In a dungeon cell beneath the castle a group of people waited tensely. The king paced and slammed his hand against the stone wall, only to leave his fist raw and bleeding. The queen sat on the floor cradling the limp body of her son. Lien sat beside her, weeping over the loss of her own son. Her brother’s body lay decomposing in the far corner. Arin leaned against the wall, cursing himself for not being able to do anything.

The shadow-figure appeared by the cell door with the same man from Vell’s earlier dream as well as a knight, Henjim.

“I’m sorry,” the green-eyed knight whispered as he took Arin by the arm.

Eovsb’s most powerful sorcerer was silent and calm through all the preparations for his execution, showing not a single emotion.

At last the sword came down...

“No!” Vell screamed.

“Vell? Vell!”

She opened her eyes to see Senar sitting beside her. Tears filled her eyes as she threw her arms around his neck.

“What is it?” he asked in concern.

“A vision,” she whispered. “A terrible one.”

He hugged her tightly. “Tell me of it later,” he instructed her quietly.

She let him go and wiped her eyes. “I will. What happened?” The dawn light showed that she was now sitting on the opposite side of the camp, against a tree. Their things were in disarray and two men sat conversing quietly a short distance away. “And who are they?”

The men noticed them then and came to join them. One of the strangers wore royal blue pants and tunic. His boots were brown, but his cloak was also royal blue. Even his eyes were royal blue, reminding Vell of the king, but his hair was short and black.

The other man wore black pants, tunic, boots, and cloak. His black hair was slightly longer than the other\'s and his eyes were also black. If Vell had not known that Witches no longer existed, she would have thought this man to be one.

“I see you’re both awake now,” the man in blue said with a smile. His voice had an accent that Vell liked.

She nodded and looked questioningly to Senar.

He smiled. “Thanks for waking me up, otherwise we’d both be dead. A group of four men decided to rob us. I’m not sure how, but one of them hit you and dragged you off. I managed to avoid them. I had taken my belt off to sleep, so I didn’t have my sword. I saw the man that had taken you tie you to this tree, so I tried to come help you. Someone grabbed me and I never made it to you. That’s about the time they came,” he continued, motioning to the two men. “They stopped all four men.”

“Killed them?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I suppose we should allow you to know our names,” the man in black said. “I am Wiland and my lover is Tyar. We are men of the Colored Flames.” His accent was the same as the other man’s.

Vell nodded. She knew little of the people. All she knew was that they were people of magic and that their power was colored, much the way a Witch’s was black or a sorcerer’s red. “We are Vell and Senar,” she told them.

“Nice to meet you both with your eyes open,” Wiland said with a smile.

“Why did you help us?” Vell asked.

Tyar grinned. “We don’t enjoy watching people being robbed and tied up.”

“We were also nearby and heard the cry,” Wiland added.

“Thank you,” Vell said and Senar also thanked them.

“You’re welcome,” Tyar replied.

“Where is your group headed?” Wiland asked curiously.

“We’re not sure exactly,” Senar replied and explained about who they were and what they were doing.

“Where are you going?” Vell questioned the men.

“We are also unsure,” Tyar answered. “We’ve been banished from our village.”

Vell became worried. “Why?”

Wiland sighed. “They fear us. Do you know anything of the Colored Flames?”

Both Vell and Senar shook their heads.

Tyar nodded. “All you know of are your sorcerers and Witches.”

They agreed.

Wiland smiled. “We are sorcerers. However, the Colored Flames are different. Not all of us have the red color, though some do. Our powers have other colors. The most common are orange, green, sky blue, medium blue and pink. The least common colors are copper, yellow, red, violet, royal blue, and black. There are many more in between, but you can see that we have the two rarest colors. The rarer the color, the more power. The rare Flames are feared, we’re too different from the rest of the people. They don’t know what we can truly do. The six rarest Flames are banished when they are old enough to survive alone. Also, with us, he village didn’t take kindly to our love.”

“So you wander?” Vell asked in shock.

Wiland and Tyar nodded. “We have been for the past two years,” Tyar replied. “Since I was fifteen and he was sixteen.”

“We’ve heard of a village in Algoma that will welcome us,” Wiland added. “It is home to many other Colored Flames, many of which rare. Cafav they call it.”

Vell shook her head. These young men were hardly older than she and Senar and had no place to call home.

“We should be on our way,” Tyar said.

“Us, too,” Senar replied. “Thanks again.”

“Thank you,” Vell added as the men turned to leave, “and good luck.”

“You as well,” Wiland said respectfully, pausing to look back at them. “May you find what you are searching for.”

Senar nodded. “Also you.”

“We’ll try to visit Cafav someday,” Vell said with a smile.

Wiland smiled. “Thank you.”

They nodded as the sorcerer ran to catch his companion. Vell and Senar rose and began to clean up their camp. Vell felt slightly dizzy, but it soon passed. They were able to find something to eat and tack up. Vell was thankful that nothing seemed to be missing. She was also grateful for Wiland and Tyar.