The majestic spiraling staircase that leads to Father looms in front of us, sile

ntly beckoning me forward. It is intimidating in its regal grandeur. It twists

gracefully upward as far as the eye can see, just as I always imagined it would
when I was a young lad and wasted time pondering such things. I’m sure Aly would i
nsist that I had created the staircase out of those thoughts, and perhaps I did,
but that doesn’t make the meaning of them any less daunting. Gone is the pristin
e white marble that has so far claimed all the surfaces in this magical land tha
t aren’t grass, earth or something of our creation. Instead, every inch of the sta
ircase, from the impossibly long steps to the gloriously decorated handrails, w
as all glittering gold, as if they were being illuminated from within somehow.
I don’t care what my winged companion claims, I blasted well know that I didn’t cre
ate glowing gold steps. My mind is not whimsical enough to think of such a thin
g. Only a few times in my mortal life had I ever seen gold, and it never glitte
red or glowed. I stood in open-mouthed wonderment at the spectacle before me.
I glance over at Alysandra and raise my eyebrows in a silent question. I’m lookin
g for some sort of indication that I am indeed supposed to climb these ornate s
teps. I am unsure of what to do. I mean, for all I know, Father might come dow
n to me. I doubt it, I just don’t see it working that way, but such would be my l
uck. Her face is as stone; devoid of any readable emotion, but there’s something
very sad in her eyes. The golden glow from the staircase lights up her ivory fea
tures and glimmers in her jet black hair. She looks every bit like a goddess.
She smiles, or tries to. She’d have fooled anybody else, but I know her too well;
the smile was forced and encased in sorrow. I’m confused and a little annoyed by
this. Okay, fine, truth be told I was downright angry with her. Wasn’t this the m
oment we had spent so long training for? This was what everything was all about
, it’s the reason I died on that horrible rain-soaked night at the hands of Krasto
r. I am the Chosen One, the mighty warrior in Father’s holy war against the Evil
One. Curses, how many times had I heard Aly say that very thing to me? So, why
was she trying to ruin my moment now with all the sadness and melancholy?
Or, was I missing something? Alysandra was usually very good about speaking her
mind. In fact, she was often times too good at it. She could prattle on and on a
bout how her hair wouldn’t lay correctly, or how she missed eating her mother’s beef
stew. It wouldn’t be like her to stay quiet if something major was causing her mi
nd trouble. Perhaps I wasn’t reading whatever signs she was putting out, if indeed
there were any signs to be read. I’ve never been very good at catching subtle hi
nts, especially where women are concerned. You pretty much have to hit me over t
he head with the blunt truth in order for my simplistic warrior brain to grasp w
hat you wanted. I never worried too much about it. I’m a man, I figured I had be
tter things to worry about then the color of this year’s dress, or at what age a m
aiden should be brought to court. Aly knew this about me, if she wanted to talk,
she should’ve said something to me about it. Now, however, was defiantly not the
time to be having a bad hair day, or fretting over if she was dressed appropriat
ely, or about the number of tavern wenches I’d bedded in my day.
Suddenly, Alysandra steps close to me and raises her hands, fingers spread in fr
ont of my face. At first, I thought she was going to grab me and kiss me again,
not that I would’ve minded kissing her, but I thought perhaps her timing was some
what questionable. Though I know Father is all-seeing and all-knowing, I just s
till somehow felt odd about kissing Aly when I knew He was watching. It just see
med . . . inappropriate and rude.
But she didn’t kiss me.
Alysandra’s eyes turned completely red and she started chanting very quietly in a
language I had never heard before. As she spoke, the words hard-sounding and c
hoppy, blue, green and yellow sparks danced and bobbed from her fingers to cover
my body in this magical mist-like energy. I can feel the sparks lick at me. It
tickles and stings all at the same time. The blue sparks are cold and seem to p
enetrate the deepest, the yellow ones are warm, like sunshine on exposed flesh a
nd make the hairs on my arms and face stand on end, the green ones seem to explo
re my skin and sooth over the hot, tickling sensation that the yellow sparks lef
t behind. All the while Alysandra chanted, eyes as red as freshly-splattered blo
od.
All at once, it was over. The multi-colored mist evaporated. Alysandra’s eyes retu
rned to normal, only now they had a wicked mischievousness to them that sent a s
hiver through my heart. I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously, “What did you just
do to me, woman?”
Her smile was slight now, but genuine. “Perhaps nothing, my warrior. We shall see.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but she shook her head cutting off my words while th
ey were still in my throat. “We’ve kept Father waiting long enough,” she said. She ta
kes my hand and turned us back to the staircase. “The steps are a metaphor, Tragge
r Drake. They are from your imagination. It’s how you think people reach Father.
You are far from being alone in this belief. In fact, most people envision a st
aircase of some kind. People believe Father is above them, not within them. It’s
natural enough, I suppose. After all, it is what they’re taught. Father’s Kingdom
is above, Hell below. Truth is both are within.”
I nod my head. Oddly enough, she’s making perfect sense. Maybe those weird sparks
did do something to me after all. “But I do climb the stairs?”
“Yes. We both will. Father will allow you to climb just long enough to satisfy y
our inner belief that you need to rise to Him, then He will bring you to Him in
His way. Don’t be afraid, Tragger Drake, I will be with you the whole way. Come.
It’s your time.”
Hand in hand we walk towards the steps. My heart is racing, I understand what’s ab
out to happen, but I’m not sure what to expect. I pause right in front of the firs
t step and try to settle my nerves with a few deep breaths. Aly gives my hand a
reassuring squeeze and smiles at me. This smile is sincere and is much brighte
r than the glowing golden steps before me. It’s all I need to give me the resolve
to continue. With a smile of my own, we step onto the first step on Father’s gran
d staircase. Even through my felt boots I can feel the calming warmth of the st
eps. The heat consumes me in an instant removing all fear, all doubt, all conce
rn. All I feel is an overwhelming sense of joy, hope and love. This is how a man
should always feel, I think to myself as we continue to climb.
Without warning, the staircase begins to shimmer the way the horizon tends to wh
en looking out across a great body of water. Aly squeezes my hand again, though
this time her reassurance, while highly appreciated, is not needed. There is no
fear in my battle-hardened soul, only immense love. I watch in awe as the step
s slowly become transparent, then fade away altogether taking me and Alysandra w
ith them . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I was a young boy, my mother told me these wonderful stories of this mystic
al place made of great billowing clouds, where chubby angles flew around you wit
h their grey wings and tiny harps. She said that peace and harmony and joy were
the norm and you did nothing more then rest upon your cloud and eat grapes from
the vine. It was in sharp contrast to the blood-soaked battlefields of Elyria
that I’d come to know so well in my adulthood, where pain, death and destruction w
ere all too common. My mother called this fluffy, light-filled place Paradise.
She told me our Father lived there and if I was good I would go see Him when I
died. As a child, sitting on a cloud eating grapes sounded like the cruelest f
orm of torture I could ever imagine. As a battle-tested solider for King Collin’s
ruthless army, eating grapes on a cloud truly did sound like Paradise.
Either mother got her description of Paradise very wrong, or Aly and I arrived a
t the wrong destination.
The place we ended up was darker than black. I literally could not see a single
thing, not even my hand right in front of my face. I got the impression that w
e were in someplace massive, though I wasn’t sure why. I couldn’t detect the floor,
though I could feel something solid under my feet. That was a relief. However
, there did not appear to be any walls or a roof. Just an impossibly endless vo
id of inky blackness. This time, it was me squeezing Alysandra’s hand. I just nee
ded to know that she was still there and that I wasn’t alone in this eternal darkn
ess.
“Not what you were expecting perhaps, Tragger Drake?” she said. Her voice was light
, almost amused, as if she knew we’d end up in this lifeless, black nothingness.
I roll my eyes in irritation at my own stupidity. Of course she knew we would en
d up here. No wonder she looked so tense when the stairway appeared, it must’ve b
een quite the struggle for her to fend off her laughter. Once again, the great
big joke is on me. Paradise isn’t all fluffy clouds and Cherub angels, it’s an endl
ess sea of total blackness. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, now did you Mr. B
rave Warrior Man? I know that I should be furious with Aly for her deliberate d
ecision of not warning me of the truth, but I can’t seem to hold onto any negative
thoughts for very long, even the ones that deserve to be held on to. Truth be
told, I’m thrilled she’s with me. I’d be completely lost without her, in more ways th
an one I realize with a slow smile that I don’t even try to hide because I know sh
e can’t see it. And, I reason, if she didn’t see it, it never happened.
“Turn around, Tragger Drake.” Again, her voice is calm, totally in control. This is
not the Aly I know so well talking, this is the confident angel fulfilling her p
art in my destiny. How I wish I could send her ass flying through something ver
y solid right about now. Knock her down a notch or two, or ten. Plus, she still
has it coming for not telling me about this cursed blackness.
“Turn around?” I say. The irritation in my voice is there, but not as strongly as I’d
like. “Whatever for? There’s nothing behind me but more darkness.”
“Because I’m your guide, Tragger Drake. And I told you to. Now, try not to say anyth
ing too stupid for the next few minutes and do as you are told.”
It takes all my effort, and several visions of her crashing through very painful
things, but I manage to hold my tongue and turn around as instructed.
As soon as I do, magic happens. A brilliant white spotlight descends from . .
. somewhere, and lands on . . . something. A huge circle of light appears at fo
ot level. I know I should be scared, or at least wary of what is happening, ye
t oddly, I’m not. I’m calm and serene as I gaze upon the unexplainable spotlight.
Next, a grandly decorated chair slowly descends to the floor from the spotlight.
The chair is fit for a king with gold trim and fine red velvet padding covering
the back and seat. The chair lands soundlessly in the centre of the spotlight,
and just like I did with the staircase, I get the impression that it’s calling to
me -- waiting for me to come and take my rightful place.
“That’s my cue,” Alysandra says. Her voice still calm and detached. “Wait here until I
summon you. I’m serious, Tragger Drake, do not move.” Alysandra lets go of my hand
and starts walking towards the spotlight. I’m more than confused, but something
in her voice demands that I obey her. It’s a tone she’s never taken with me before.
Right now, my angel is all business.
Alysandra moves into the spotlight, pauses at the chair for a moment, then sits
down.
That’s when the real magic starts.
From behind her comes a magnificent display of multi-colored lights. They seem
to twist and swirl in on themselves over and over, like a rolling fog, or a grea
t cloud of smoke towards the chair. It is by far the most beautiful thing I have
ever seen in my life, and all I can do is gape at it in open-mouthed awe. The
misting lights stop just outside the far end of the spotlight.
From her throne, Alysandra smiles at me. “Tragger Drake, this is our Father.”
I’m stunned. I’m amazed. I have no idea what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t
this. I suddenly remember something Aly had said to me before about me believing
that Father was like me, a man, complete with a body, arms, legs and a head. H
owever, the Truth that lingers just behind my angel is anything but that. Yet, i
t somehow feels right. Words escape my warrior mind. I wouldn’t even begin to kno
w what to say.
Next, in the lights a face forms. I can clearly make out the flow of long hair
cascading down high cheekbones and past a bearded chin. A sharp nose sneaks out
next, followed by deep-set eyes. It is then that I realize I’m literally gazing i
nto the face of Father. The magnitude of this moment is almost too overwhelming
to comprehend.
Father’s thin lips move, but it’s Alysandra’s voice that rings out into the vast nothi
ngness that surrounds me. “I have read your mind, child of mine, and this is the
face that you have given me. Do you recognize it?”
I swallow several times and nod dumbly. “Yes. Yes I do.”
“I have no voice of my own, therefore I will use the one belonging to my precious
daughter Alysandra. Be fooled not, however, for these are my words. This is my
message to you. She plays only a small part in this aspect. Do you understand m
e, child of mine?”
Again I swallow. I can’t seem to keep my mouth moist. All of the times I had thoug
ht about this moment I always came off as my usual cocky self. Now that I was in
the Truth of it, however, I could barely even breathe. “I understand, Father. Wha
t is thy will?”
“Come forth. To the very edge of the light, but take most care that you do not tou
ch the light. It is most important that you remain in the darkness until the cer
emony is complete.”
“May I ask why, Father?”
“The blackness represents your inner fear, greed, ego, vanity, and sin. The light
represents your gift of all that is pure. Once I have released your sins, you w
ill be ready to receive my gift to you. To touch the light while still being th
e owner of your sins will result in your soul’s destruction, for it will not be ab
le to handle the conflict between the two. Understand, child of mine?”
“I understand.” I feel myself walking towards the light. My legs seem to have a wi
ll of their own. I suspect that I’m not in control of any of this, but merely a s
pectator in a grand game that has been played since time began. How many others
have stood where I am right now and looked upon the magnificence of what I am g
azing upon? How many other Chosen Ones have heard the voice of their angel sayi
ng these very words to them. I know of at least one, and I know that Alysandra
has been in that chair before. Now, I fully understand why she was so tense whe
n she saw the stairway. It was because she knew what was coming, but not because
she found it funny; more like daunting. My heart goes out to my brave, brave a
ngel. She’s in the most unimaginable position. She is the keeper of Father’s voice
, what an awesome responsibility that must be. I can’t even begin to fathom what
she must be going through.
“In this moment, that is destined to be all yours, child of mine, your thoughts ar
e on your angel, my daughter, Alysandra. You have put another before you, even
in the face of being blessed with an unspeakably powerful and wonderful gift. Th
is is the reason I chose you. Your heart is pure. Your soul intact and honest. Y
ou are the best of what mankind has to offer. You are the Light.”
“Alysandra keeps telling me of this great mission of yours, Father. This great bat
tle You are engaged in. She tells me I am to be the warrior in this battle, and
I am honored to be, truly. Yet, she hasn’t spoken about this war is. How am I to s
erve you, Father?”
“One of my precious and beloved children has fallen. He has taken a very rare and
special talisman with him that cloaks his whereabouts from me. Now, like a scou
rge upon the world I created, he is spreading disease, chaos and death wherever
he goes. He must be found and stopped. Only the Light can find him, for the Ligh
t can sense the special talisman he carries Once my child is found, the power i
nfused in the Ring of Life when it touches the center of the sacred talisman he
wears will return my misguided child back to his rightful place, home here with
me and his other brothers and sisters who love him. That is your true mission, c
hild of mine. Bring my fallen son home to me.
“He is stealing the souls of my children and leaves them under the protective care
of his army of minions. These are demons not of my creation, but of another cre
ature. These demons must be destroyed, for their touch upon the souls of my chil
dren fills them with disease. Alysandra knows how to wash this unholy taint off
them. She will accompany you on your mission. Your job is to kill the demons
under the control of of this other creature and release the souls of my childre
n. My daughter’s job is to remove the taint upon them for the ones she can save,
and to bring the ones that have passed home to me where they will be loved and c
herished. This other creature is unknown to me, and this knowledge worries me g
reatly, for such a thing should not be possible. I feel him but cannot see him.
I know why but not how. This is great cause for concern for the worlds I’ve crea
ted, and my children that inhabit these worlds.
“ I now ask you, child of mine, to allow me to strip away all your mortal sins and
accept the gift of Light unto you. Your path will not be smooth, your choices w
ill be hard at times. Death is a part of life and will not always be avoidable.
I send you out as one against many, but I gift you with the Ring of Life, the ac
companying sword, and the powers of a God. You shall also be adorned in my armo
r of solid gold. You cannot be killed so long as you wear the armor. No sword
shall cut you down, no arrow shall find purchase in your flesh, no physical harm
shall befall you in any way. All my children throughout the worlds of my creat
ion shall come to know your name. You will be a hero among men, an enemy to evil
, and a legend to all. I cannot force this upon you, child of mine. You must cho
ose this of your own free will. I ask you now, do you accept my gift of Light up
on you?”
There are some questions that a man must take his time and consider very careful
ly before he makes his reply. There are other times when the answer is so obvio
us, the solution so clearly understood, that no thought whatsoever is demanded b
efore the words spill from the mouth like a river to the mighty sea. Father’s ques
tion was the second kind. I didn’t even have time to blink my eye before I boldly
replied, “Yes. I accept Your gift of Light. I will be Your Chosen One, Father. I
will be Your Golden Warrior.”
“I free you of the weight and consequence of your mortal sins, child of mine. Only
one thing remains to be done. You must accept the Kiss of Life and Love. This i
s how the Light is passed into you. Once you have the Light, you can never lose
it. Your soul will continue on forevermore. The battle will rage until the ultim
ate evil has been banished. If you accept the Kiss of Life and Love, then step i
nto the light. It is safe for you now.”
I took a deep breath, looked to Alysandra who was sitting very straight in the c
hair with her dark eyes locked on mine, but otherwise gave no indication that sh
e even knew I was there, then stepped into the light. Like Aly’s little multi-col
ored spark show a few minutes ago, I expected to feel something when the spotlig
ht finally touched me, but I felt nothing. I was vaguely disappointed by this, t
hough I wasn’t quite sure why. Alysandra stood up, cupped her hand to my cheek, a
nd kissed me.
Now, I’ve been kissed before; I’ve even been kissed by Alysandra before, but never i
n my life have I experienced a kiss like this one. From the instant her lips to
uched mine I felt it throughout my entire being. I was being infused with this i
ncredible energy. I could feel the power surge through my veins, my head explod
ed with Light, every cell in my body was . . . transformed. It took me several
seconds to fully grasp what was happening to me; I was becoming real again. My
body was becoming solid, blood raced through me filling me with life, my heart
actually beat once more. I was . . . alive.
A moment later, the kiss was over. Alysandra remained standing, but her eyes had
their usual sparkle back in them and she was smiling her impish grin at me. Sh
e was back. However, we were alone. It happened just that fast. “Father’s gone,” I s
aid. My voice steady and strong in my ears. It was like I was hearing it for the
very first time.
“No,” she said. “He’s still here. You just can’t see Him anymore. The Light won t let you
. But don’t be afraid, He will always be with you.” She smiled again. “Look at yours
elf in your beautiful new golden armor, Tragger Drake. You look like the warrio
r God you are.”
It was true. I’m not sure when or how it happened, but I was covered head to toe i
n gleaming golden armor. On my right hand, returned like an old friend, was The
Ring of Life. Only this time, I didn’t have to steal it from the corpse of a dead
soldier. The ring rightfully belonged to me now, and I knew exactly what I neede
d to do with it; return the Evil One back to Father.
Suddenly, Alysandra and I were back on Father’s grand staircase. My armor clanked
noisily upon the steps, and I realized how much I actually missed the sound arm
or makes when I moved in it. It’s unlike any other sound in the world, and to a so
ldier like me, it was sweeter than the most beautiful music. Alysandra danced do
wn a few steps ahead of me, showing me how agile she was, in her ornate white go
wn with her pretty purplish/blue wings fluttering gracefully behind her.
I want you to know that I had to. I was absolutely left with no other choice. We
didn’t have too many steps left to go, and at the rate Aly was bounding down them
, she’d be at the bottom in no time. I knew I needed to do something to help her a
ttain her goal of beating me down the staircase, so with a thought, I turned the
remaining steps, save for the one I was on, into a slippery slope and howled in
uproarious laughter as I watched my winged companion slide like a greased pig d
own to the bottom of the slide. She landed with a resounding thud on the ground
, and looked up at me with the most incredulous look I have ever seen cross over
anybody’s face. The sound of my loud guffaws echoed all around us. With a grand f
lourish of my hand, I made the steps reappear, and once again began my descent d
own them.
I may be Father’s new Golden God-Warrior of the Light, but I was also still Tragge
r Drake. She clearly needed a little reminder of that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Tragger Drake, that was NOT funny,” I grumble as I stand up, rubbing my backside an
d scowling. Slowly I spread my wings. Once I am satisfied they can at least mo
ve, I give them a few gentle flaps for peace of mind before turning my attention
back to him. “Here we’ve just experienced the most pivotal moment in the history of
all of Father’s worlds, the very outcome of His children’s souls are in peril, and
you still insist upon playing childish pranks.” I look up to see him laughing, wh
ich angers me even more. “You are the most insufferable, immature, frustratingly
simple minded ox of a man I have ever had the misfortune of knowing. You should
be . . . ”
And then it hits me like a bolt of lightening. He was laughing! That simple, wo
nderful, beautiful sound was like music to my ears, and in an instant all anger
leaves me. Well, perhaps not all of my anger; he has to know that I will not le
t this little stunt of his go unanswered, but for now that can wait. My ox of a
man was still very much Tragger Drake in all his glorious, asinine humanity. M
y smile continues to widen as he draws near and I feel giddy, much the same as
when I had been allowed a glass of my Aunt Edna’s homemade wine during Festival.
Clearly, my look made him uneasy because my brave warrior stopped dead in his t
racks.
“Wait,” he says, frowning slightly. “You’re smiling. This can’t be good.”
“It’s you,” I reply, knowing I must look like some silly, love-starved imp as I smile
up at him. My eyes drink him in as if I had not seen him in ages while I run my
hands slowly along the polished surface of his armor, marveling at the warmth o
f the precious metal. He is so large, so powerful as he stands in front of me,
his countenance still glowing from having been in Father’s presence. And yet his
eyes are alive with that spark that is uniquely his. Reaching up, I push the h
air from his face and run my fingers lightly along his jaw, needing to feel him,
to know that this was my Golden Warrior standing here with me.
“Curses, woman! Of course it’s me! Who in Hades did you expect?” There is laughter i
n his voice and my heart soars. Not only is this my Tragger Drake, but he was a
ctually -- dare I say it -- Alive!
“I wasn’t certain whether or not I was strong enough to make the spell work.” I study
my hands for a moment, a triumphant smile spreading across my face, and then lo
ok back at him. “But, I . . . well, it would appear that I am.”
“What spell?” he asks, looking down at me and raising one eyebrow inquisitively.
“Before we went to Father. Do you recall? I stopped you and recited an incantati
on to call forth The Holy Mist of our Elders.” He nods, reaching up to absently s
troke at his beard.
“I remember.” He narrows his gaze at me and points a finger. “Not all of that was ple
asant, just so you know. I thought my balls were gonna shrink!”
“You’re such a child sometimes,” I chide as I punch him in the arm and roll my eyes.
“I’m a what?”
“You heard me,” I bite back with a teasing smile. “Now, can we get back to the spell?”
“I suppose I’ll let the child comment slide - this time.“ A deliberate dig, but I wil
l not rise to the bait. Instead, I smile sweetly to let him know I think he is
a pompous ass and continue with my explanation.
“The spell. It was a very old incantation that draws upon the energy of the Elder
s. Many centuries have passed without one of pure blood who could call upon the
m for guidance. In truth, it was believed that the line had died out completely
.” He continues to frown at me, still not understanding. “In my human years, I was a
lways ‘different’. I had visions, uncontrollable prophecies that would fall from my
lips.” A shadow of bitterness teases but cannot linger as the purity of our worl
d pushes it away. “My mother often said I had the blood of the ancient ones in my
veins. I had not thought of this in centuries until last night. The Elders ca
me to me in my dreams. They spoke to me in a tongue I did not recognize with my
ears, but with my spirit. Spells within spells, magic that has not been known f
or thousands of years. They gave me the incantation.” I hear the awe in my words
and my own skin begins to prickle as the meaning of this sinks in.
“Okay. So some group of ancient fucks paraded through your dreams and taught you
a new trick. What has that got to do with me?” He is grinning down at me, that s
mug look of mocking arrogance I know so well and the anger swells inside of me.
I flick my hand in his direction and send him flying through the air, making sur
e to smash him through several trees before finally allowing him to tumble to th
e ground. In a flash, I am standing over him feeling the heat of my anger flush
my normally ivory complexion. “You will not mock the Elders while in my presence
, Tragger Drake! Is that understood?”
“Curses, woman! Settle down! I meant nothing by it.”
I smile sweetly and offer him a hand up. He reaches out for it and when he does,
I send him flying through the air again, making victims out of several more of
Father’s trees. Again, he crashes hard to the ground just to find me there waiting
for him. His eyes seek mine and when they find purchase, he says with a deep sc
owl, “What in Hades has gotten into, woman?”
“Curses, man,” I snap, anger pouring from my voice like ale from a pitcher. “Settle do
wn! I meant nothing by it.”
I can tell by the look in his eyes that my message was received. I do not think
Tragger Drake will ever dare mock the Elders within my earshot again.
“I’ll remind you,” I warn, though my scorn is cooling, “do not continue to provoke me.
And the trick, as you so stupidly call it, has everyhing to do with you. Never
has there been a warrior who has ascended to the Light that did not pay a high p
rice for his sacrifice. The purity of the Light drives out that most basic, pri
mal part of a being - that which gives them the courage, the strength, indeed t
he very heart to be a champion. I could not bare to see you suffer that same fa
te. I had to try something, anything, to protect you.”
“Curses, woman! Speak plain, would you?” His voice is low and his features tight, a
s if he is afraid of my answer.
“I sealed in your humanity, Warrior of mine,” I say softly, and he grows suddenly qu
iet as the impact of my words drive home. “To the rest of Father s worlds, you wil
l be known as the great Golden-God Warrior, but to me, you will always be my Tra
gger Drake."