"Why?"

The words whispered through the rythm of the falling rain. The man stood still his eyes dark, his face worn with strain. So much blood, so much pain. So much he had shouldered. And why? Because he was Deshein? The chosen? What god would choose a single soul to shoulder the pain of an entire people.

"You know why I go." he whispered calmly still not looking up into those warm frightened blue eyes he had fallen in love with. He was afraid, afraid to see the tears streaming down her cheeks mixing with the dampening drizzle that soaked both of them during their tearful goodbye. For even he knew, he Drice Malehn, Deishein, destroyer of armies, the shadow of Death, knew his fate. And his fate would not last the night. As if in echo to his thoughts the thunder rumbled.

"Maybe it's selfish...I don't care anymore. Its not fair they take you away from me just once let them fight their own battle. Just once let someone else carry the weight!" Tears were streaming down her face now, he didn't need to see them, he could feel them with his senses. Just as he could feel her shivering in the cold, and the small heart beating within her.

Reaching out he pulled her to him in an embrace holding her in silence as she wept. She too understood. He wasn't coming back. He was out of time, out of miracles. He wanted to leave this place, take her with him but he knew, he realized now just what the curse was. Deishein. The worlds balance, the gift, his curse. As long as he lived there would always be another fight. Maybe after this she would have peace. His child would have a world of peace to grow in, unlike the war torn one he helped create.

"Blood drips from my soul." he whispered. "So many lives I have taken, so many lives I could not save. Death is all that I have known, death and pain. But you my sweet, you gave me a brief glimpse of life and how it is supposed to be, you have given me nothing but happiness." He longed to lie to her, to tell her he would return but the words stuck in his throat. "Thank you. Thank you for loving me as much as I have loved you."

"Damn them to hell. Damn them you come back to me. Come back to us Drice. Promise me you will come back!"

Pulling away he looked down unable to meet her eyes.

"Promise me!" she demanded.

"I love you..." he whispered as he wrapped the cloak of shadows around him and vanished into the rain.

"Damn them all..." she whispered the empty night. "...none of them deserved you Drice."
_______

"He is late..." the voice grumbled.

Kirnt shrugged checking his blade for the hundredth time since arriving at the meeting place. In truth he was nervous, fear poured through him only held in check by the magnitude of the duty laid before him. The howling winds screamed at him pulling his cloak and threatening to knock him down. Far above on the Darjin plateau awaited their enemy. A demon cloaked in the skin of man, the madness bled from him.

He was a shadow knight, just as Garrett the older man was Master he could use the shadows around him, gathering them and using their power. But where he existed between the realms of light and dark, the creature awaiting them was seething in darkness. There was no light in him, only pain and death. Doruk, a corrupted soul whose only purpose was to kill destroy had challenged his master Drice this very evening.

It had only been a few years since the conclusion of the Shadow Wars and peace was still new to the reformed three kingdoms, so much so that he could not remember the last time he trembled in battle. But he knew, as did Garrett beside him just how much power awaited them up there. Even with their aid, the out come of this battle was far from decided. If anything there chances for success were unfathomably low.

"It is always like him to be late when things must be done." Garrett growled again. Tension in his eyes betrayed the calmness that he tried to project and Kirnt shook his head. Years ago he had matched blades with Garrett in battle and had quickly been put in his proper place. Of the three going into battle he was by far the weakest and if Garrett was this worried then maybe there was no hope. Maybe they were all dead men. No a dozen times he had witnessed his Master fight a so called losing battle only to steal victory away. Drice would have a plan.

"Patience Master Garrett. I am sure he had something important to do before he came just like you had to say your peace to Valerian?"

The older man grumbled something and Kirnt tried to ignore him. Inwardly he seathed. During the war Drice had been forced to do everything at a significant cost, he himself had lost his twin brother during the fighting. Garrett had lost nothing, in fact the older man had gained everything during the war. A wife, power, an unearned hero status from the people of the Three Kingdoms. It was enough to make him angry. Yet next to Drice he was the most powerful person in the kingdom and without him there would be no defeating Doruk.

The light shimmered before them as Drice appeared from the shadows. For a brief moment Kirnt thought he saw his fingers tremble.

Drice strode forward purposefully his fingers pulling back his hood to allow his green hair to breath in the night. "My friends, I know of no one I would rather have fight at my side at a time like this." He smiled genuinely. He has a plan, Kirnt thought.

Drice moved forward his fingers delicately resting on the hilt of twin blades at his side. "We have all been through so much together. It is only fitting that this has come." He looked down into the valley at sleeping kingdom that rested beneath the veil of the storm, unknowing that in momemts their future would be decided in battle without any concent from them. As Drice turned back there was something in his eyes that gave Kirnt pause. A michevious look mixed with a calm purpose. He took another step towards Garrett and placed his left hand on his shoulder.

"We have been brothers for so long. From the moment you found and took pity on this clumsy child to crossing our blades on the palace steps. I have always trusted you..." he grew silent his lips twitched. as he whispered. "..and i hope that you still do. Grow old my brother, grow old." without warning he unsheathed his right blade and slammed the hilt into the Garretts gut with a wince he went down. With a quick slash he crashed the flat end of the blade down on his head rendering him unconsious.

Kirnt struggled to his feet unsure of what was happening. "Master..."

"Silence." Drice whispered. He licked his lips as he sheathed his blades. A longing in his eyes. "You should understand the curse and what must be done. As long as I breath another Doruk will always come to challenge me and endanger those I care about."

"Then we will fight them together."

"No...no more." his master whispered. "I have had peace these last four years. A precious gift. But one that I must pass down. I entrust the rest to you Kirnt. Master Kirnt..." he laughed as he paused. "...protect them i entrust my family to you." He glanced down at the unconsious man. "You will have to be strong Kirnt but I believe you are capable of taking my place. Trust those I call friend, and be wary of those I call brother."

"Master..."

"Take him and go. Live a long life my friend. The rest is on you." He unsheated his right blade and tossed it at Kirnt's feet. "Give it to her when the time is right. Farewell..."
_____

"So you have finally come." the hint of madness seeped from the words as Drice appeared on the plateau.

He glanced at the man before him. Men...they were all still young. He was only in his mid twenties. When one accepts his death and becomes one with it, then they will no longer be held by fear and action can be taken. His masters words from years past echoed in his mind. He was the shadow of death, he was death in itself. Death was merely a release from the pain of life. Or so he had been taught. But these last few years were anything but painful.

Drice had never been big. He was of average height and stature. He had always been the runt the outcast. Until the days his powers came into being, until the day he had taken his fate in his hands and wrapped himself in the darkness. Doruk was a lost child lost within the madness known as the hunger. A little known weakness of the shadow knights and one that led to dementia and pure madness on those unable to break its hold. Whispered thought cried through his mind as he wrapped himself in the shadows, words of how to kill of who to kill. Death was on all their lips he ignored them and reached deep within to the pool of darkness that was his own power.

"You hate me Doruk, but I pity you. You have lost so much, you have lost the chance for any happiness for any love. For that reason, I will release your pain." Drice whispered. "For threatening those I love..." he hissed as the power seared through him, "...I promise I will make it painful and will listen to you beg for mercy you shall never receive."

He did not draw his remaining blade instead he focused that power that flowed within him. He reached in and grabbed even more until it was like an ocean emptying within him. His mind worked feverishly as the whispering voices grew to shouts as his body trembled and sweat poured off of him. Tying off the last of the power he slammed the dome of shadows in place keeping Doruk from leaving.

"I am sorry..." he whispered. "...but if I had let you all come you would have died as well. One life...not three."

A black ball appeared in between them as Doruk inched closer. With a cry of rage the demon charged as the ball swirled growing darker and more compact. Just as the blade came down tasting flesh Drice smiled. "Final Judgement" he whispered. The ball exploded, black tendrils of power flashing out destroying everything they touched.

"I love you Cailey...Ari.." his words vanished as his body was overtaken by the light.
______

Her legs gave way as she hit the ground. He was gone. She could no longer feel him. Drice, her Drice was gone...