"Rash'Tor'Ri! He is a story to scare whelps! I fear no Rash'Tor'Ri!"

"Then you are welcome to try to take his Mark from me!"

Everyone felt the Lash of the Farrara'Ti. Gorvelis staggered and there was blood running from his eyes, mouth, and nose.

"Now!" he roared.

Something that no Kresh had ever done started then. Five hundred Shak'Tar Lashed together. They Lashed with one thing, my Mark.

Each of those Lashes were pushed, not outward but directly through Gorvelis. He rose to his feet and raised his arms as he slammed it all into the Farrara'Ti.

The giant Kresh staggered and fell to the ground, screaming. Each of the Shak'Tar could feel the changes take shape in the mind of Pos'Far'Nadir, the Farrara'Ti who had controlled Cerres for the last century.

Gorvelis walked forward toward the Kresh who was on all fours in front of him. It's head was hanging down and it raised as Gorvelis approached. Their eyes were on the same level and Gorvelis stared into the confused eyes of the giant.

"Your mistake was to think you faced only one," he said and placed his hand on the enormous shoulder of the Kresh before him, "Welcome, brother. Welcome."

He turned to the other Humans, his Clan, and motioned for Fero to step forward.

"It is time to send word to the Master, Fero," he said, "You will go to him and tell him something for me. Tell him that the Revolution has begun!"

There was a great roar around them as both the Shak'Tar and all of the Clans of Kresh raised their fists in the air and let rip a shout that would be heard throughout the fifteen worlds. I could see the seeds of the destruction of the Kresh Empire in that shout, and it took all that I had not to shout with them. These were my soldiers in a war that covers multiple worlds. They are mine and they are doing the things I can't do yet. But, one day I will join them and we will bring that Empire to its knees. We'll burn it down, Humanity will be free!

"Stand, Fero," I said, "I expected great things from Gorvelis and the rest of you but this is amazing. You have my gratitude, and when I can rid this world of the influence of the Kresh, I will be going through the Gate to join you all."

"Understood, Master," he said with a fervor that scares the hell out of me, "We will continue and anticipate the time when you can come."

I turned to Pelin who had shared in the memory as well, "See that he is fed and treated well. I have to think for a while on what response to send to Touran. He seems to have things well in hand. I believe I'll leave things in his capable hands."

"Yes, Master."

"You don't have to call me that."

"I know, Master."

I sighed and she chuckled.

"Do you mind if I share with our brother what happened here?"

"Not at all, I was going to send a report back to Gorvelis anyway."

She turned to Fero and I saw the flood of images that crossed to the man. I had thought she was just talking about telling the story but I should have known better. They are telepathic after all.

They replay of the battle was very coherent and I could tell it came from the memories of many people, including myself. I had to remind myself that this was all they had known and it wasn't unusual for them to garner information in this manner.

But watching what I did from the vantage of the other people in the field was quite disconcerting. I can see why the others feel the fear after seeing what I am capable of.

After she finished, Fero turned to me with awe, "Please, Master, do me the honor of placing your Mark on me in person. Never would any of us ask one of the Kresh to do this, but you are not them. Your Mark is a joy to carry."

I didn't see the harm in it so I concentrated on the Mark inside him and I focused my will on it. I slammed my will into that Mark and it blazed inside Fero.

"Thank you, Master," he was once again on his knees.

"Stand, Fero," I said. "You don't have to kneel to me. You don't have to call me Master. My name is Colin Rourke."

He nodded and stood. Pelin led him out of the room, and she looked back at me standing there with the discomfort I feel when dealing with the near slavery of the Shak'Tar. She chuckled again and shook her head.

Chapter 51.

"Ma'am," I stood and strode across the room to the woman who was shown into my office, "Welcome."

She was a heavy set black woman and she was followed by a man in his twenties and a teenage girl. I could see the family resemblance and I knew that they were her other children.

"Mr. Rourke," the older woman said, "I come out hea cause you asked me to. I already knew one day I would heah dat useless boy done died in da street."

I could see the conflicting emotions in her two children. Both seemed to have felt the way their mother did but I could see a glimmer of hope in the young woman.

"Ma'am," I said through my own well of emotion about the loss of Cordell Fortraine. He had been my responsibility and he'd died because I had brought him to this place.

"Please allow me to show you something," I said, "I have certain abilities that are beyond the normal. Let me show you how your son died. You can judge from there however you want to."

"How you gon show me?"

I smiled gently, "It won't harm you in any way, Ma'am."

I projected a memory from the gathered memories of the group that had held their ground protecting the civilians.

Her eyes widened as she saw Jennifer Alstead fall and a young black man step across her and protect her as she was dragged into the circle.

This was the last act of Cordell as he was ripped by a soldier that got through his defenses. He could have lived if he'd not stepped out alone, but it had happened so fast.

There were tears in all three of their eyes as she looked up at me, "Dat's my boy?"

She asked me in a tone of utter astonishment. She had known of his gang ties, his criminal acts, but this was something out of a dream.

"Yes Ma'am," I said, "Cordell Fortraine died a hero. He died in a battlefield I brought him to. He died a Soulguard."

I handed her a black box gilded in silver. She opened it to find a simple silver medal.

"Ma'am," I said, "this is the Soulguard Medal of Valor. We're relatively new at awarding medals for our troops, but your son earned it. He left that past that you knew of and forged himself into the man you saw. I was and am very proud of his actions and gladly present this medal to you."

She clutched the box to her chest and muttered, "My boy was a hero."

There was a great surge of pride in her wayward son rolling through her aura, as she clutched the box.

"Thank you Mr. Rourke," she said to me and she turned and followed by her other son and daughter, walked away.

The daughter turned and looked back, "Thank you Mr. Rourke. I've waited a long time for him to change. I just wish I could have seen him before he was gone."

She turned away and followed her mother and brother.

That had been hard, but I felt so much better after seeing a mother regain the pride in a child that she had lost her pride in a long time ago.

I had spent days searching for the next of kin for the fallen, and I had found most of them. I was looking at the form in front of me--Rictor Hughes. There was only one person listed on his form. He, like me, had no family except the Guard. He had listed me as his next of kin, and I sat there with tears in my eyes as I looked at the page. He was my best friend, he'd been a sort of mentor when I got to Knoxville, and we'd been working together ever since. I have friends I've known longer than I knew Ric, but none who were as close. He knew more about my heritage than any other person. He'd pushed me to find out what was wrong with me. He'd followed me into Hell so many times I had lost count.

I put the form down and stood up. I needed to find Rostov. He'd said something about the finest Vodka in the whole world and I could really use a drink.

Alexei Rostov was sitting in the barracks when Lyrica Jayne found him. He saw her coming and smiled. He liked the young woman and he knew she was good for Colin. He'd learned a few things about the both of them since his arrival in Kansas--he the eternal warrior, she the healer. Right out of a grand story they were, he thought.

"Hey Alexei," she said, "Have you seen Colin around?"

"Yes, he came by a few hours ago to talk me out of a bottle of the finest Vodka that Russia has ever produced. It seems a bit of a waste, since he can't really get drunk from it."

Her eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment. It was truly eerie when either of them did that. He knew they were looking at the energy flows of the world when it happened but it was weird anyway.

Her eyes crossed the north where the battlefield had been and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh no," she said in a voice that made his heart jerk, It was filled with a sadness he hadn't seen in her before.

She turned and shot back out the door. He jumped up and followed. Her two shadows were just steps behind her as she shot to the north. He followed in their wake.

They ran through the destroyed landscape toward a spot that Rostov knew from the battle. He was a little worried too, now. This is where Hughes had fallen. He knew how much it had hurt Colin to lose his right hand. The Soullord's Pitbull, they had called him. Rostov had no doubt that Rictor Hughes would have done anything the Soullord asked. He would have followed him into the Demon world if Colin had asked him.

He reached the spot to find Lyrica sitting on the ground, holding his head in her lap. She brushed his hair from his forehead.

"He tied himself from the Source," she muttered.

"Damnit Colin," muttered Trent Deacons. Mattie Riordan was silent but she stood Guard at Lyrica's back.

"What the Hell was he thinking?" Rostov exclaimed, "Doesn't he know how dangerous this is? Doesn't he understand how much we need him?"

Lyrica looked up with a fire that looked a great deal like his in her eyes, "Do you know how hard that is? To be the one who has to save the world? Do you? He just lost the one person who probably understood how hard that is, the one of the few who would treat him as a person instead of this friggin' messiah. Do you know how hard that would be?"

Rostov actually took a step back as her words hit him.

"We spend so much time looking at him as this Messiah, we forget he is just a man," he said as he nodded to Lyrica, "my apologies."

"It's not really your fault, Alexei," she said. "I just hate to watch him torture himself. He blames himself every time."

"Da, I heard the list, as well," he said.

"Don't worry, Alexei," She said and gently stroked the hair of the man who's head rested in her lap, "I'll keep him safe."

"I have no doubt of that," Rostov said and walked back into the darkness to give her as much privacy as she needed.

He waited three hours out in the darkness until she picked up the Soullord and carried him back to his quarters. He followed at a distance to make sure she got him in alright. Like there was anything that could stop her if they tried, he thought.

The golden Valkyrie bent over me, and kissed my lips. I could see her face.

"Mine forever," her words flowed through me.

I opened my eyes to see that beautiful face a few inches from my own. She was sleeping there beside me. All of my worries of Gods and Goddesses had been just that, worries. My Goddess was right here beside me and I could remember clearly now how she had driven off the darkness that had wanted to consume me.

I reached down and opened the portal I had put in my Stream so I could get drunk and forget for a while. As the portal opened, and the awful pain in my head slipped away, her emerald eyes opened.

I kissed her and pulled her close. Her lips were soft, her skin like silk, and her Soul...her Soul blazed like the Sun. Our Soulstreams merged and we were lost in each other for quite some time.

She is the other half of my Soul. She's the best part and I now understand that I cannot survive without her. She is my life, she is my love. With her at my side, I know we can accomplish anything we set out to do and the future of our world looks just a little less bleak.

Epilogue.

A man crouched on a rise looking at the huge facility down on the plain. There was a shimmering portal at one end of the great platform.

The man rubbed at the scars along his right arm. They were the scars from a severe burn. He knew he could reach the portal, perhaps even without the Kresh even seeing him.

There was a disturbance behind him, and he looked down into a ravine to see a group of twenty or so people running up the sloped ground. Behind them a group of ten Kresh loped. They ran around the people in the back and knocked them rolling through the dirt. Then they would let them up to run again.

Rage surged through the man on the hill. He looked over his shoulder at the shimmering portal one last time and snarled in frustration.

Then he turned and leapt seventy five feet to land near the pursued group of humans. Then with a roar of fury he charged into the group of Kresh and tore them apart.

end.