Chapter 4: Relentless
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	The silvery moon cast strange shadows over the Veldt, outlining
bushes in a pale silver halo, and sending long, strangely shaped shadows
probing across the cool ground, ground which only hours before had been
shimmering with heat waves from the fierce su n. And as the moon reached
out, it uncovered a village, seemingly peaceful, certainly quiet, so well
designed that it blended in with the landscape as if it had grown out of
the dirt, its thatch roofs and wooden walls seeming, somehow, to belong
to this place in a way very few buildings managed. And yet, even in this
eery, moonlit setting, something, somehow, seemed out of place, something
which didn't fit in with the overall pattern...
	Slowly but surely, a shadow slipped across the bare landscape,
seeming to flit from shadow to shadow, never staying still long enough to
be seen properly, but far too furtive to be up to any good. And always,
even as it zig-zagged from shadow to shadow, it moved towards a cluster of
thatch dwellings, ringed around by a wall. Once it was within bowshot of
the village, the figure squatted in the shadow of one of the larger bushes
that dotted the landscape.
	If anyone had been watching, they would have seen the figure throw
back the hood which covered it's head, revealing a pale face in the
moonlight. And if the watcher had been acquainted with recent happenings,
they would have recognised the face of Shamel, a powerful brother in a
little-known cult which belonged far away from this place.
	Resting his tired legs, Shamel surveyed the village, his eyes
burning with a fierce light that belied the wrinkled visage of his face.
Nothing moved in the light; the village could have been abandoned, for all
the noise it made. And yet, he _knew_ it was inhabited - this was the
place where Lyrix and his companion were sheltering; Lyrix, that traitor
to the faith, the one man who had dared to raise a hand against HIM, the
person to whom he owed all, who had taken him off the diseased streets of
some forgotten city and raised him in the true faith; taught him all he
could of the ways of life.
	And now, now his betrayal hurt worse than any other, hurt him
where he thought he was no longer vulnerable. And so, for that reason, he
would be made to pay. For raising a hand against one of the borthers his
life was forfeit, as it should be, but now there was something personal
in it for Shamel, now he had to make the rogue understand the hurt he had
caused him. And so, when he captured him, he would make sure that he
suffered the worst of any he had sent to the otherworld, for only by
suffering could he cleanse his soul of all the srongs he had committed.
	Even as he thought this, his bright eyes were continually watching
the village. And eventually, his vigilance was rewarded with movement - a
large figure moved up on the village wall. He had expected a guard, but
there was something so strange about this figure that he looked harder,
trying to discern what was wrong about this person. And then he saw, saw
the extra pair of arms, the strangely humped and misshapen body that spoke
of a monster.
	A creature of magic, something which he would prefer not to kill,
since if he could convert them to the true faith, every one of them would
be invaluable. He gave a genuine smile when he thought about the effect
they would have on the unbelievers.
	After patiently waiting for many more minutes, he decided that
there were no other guards. "Foolish." he thought to himself. "These
people are overconfident to the point of idiocy. Even at my age, it
should be no trouble getting past their defences."
	He smiled, a smile which held no mirth at all, and uncurled from
his position. Moving with all the stealth he could, he darted towards the
wall of the village out of the direct sight of the monster. The wall
wasn't seriously meant to keep humans out by itself, and he easily scaled
the wood and dropped with a thump to the other side. Quickly looking
around to make sure that he wasn't detected, he dodged into the shadow of
tent, and then slipped towards the center of the village, thinking that it
would be there that he would most likely learn where Lyrix was.

**********************

	The cheerful light of a lamp flickered in the center of a hut.
Four people sat in a circle around it: Katrina, her husband Duane, Gogo,
and Lyrix.
	"So you see," Gogo was saying, "we had no choice. There was no
shelter out there on the Veldt; we couldn't just sit around waiting, and
we didn't know _where_ to go, so we just set out in any old direction. I
guess you could call it blind luck that we stumbled on your little village
here. Isn't that right, Lyrix?" she said with a shrug and a deprecating
laugh, and then peered slyly at Lyrix. He stared stonily back at her, his
face an unreadable mask, not saying anything.
	"Come on, Lyrix, you can talk here, you know. They're not going to
jump on you for expressing an original thought like they did back at your
'chapter'." She said the last sarcastically, prompting a confused look
from Lyrix which quickly turned stony again. He grunted a vague assent,
and then added, "I am quite content to listen, mimic. Surely you are able
to tell the story by yourself. You certainly aren't in danger of running
out of words - you had more than enough to say to me as we walked this
'Veldt'."
	Unsure whether he was jesting or not, Gogo didn't answer. The
awkward silence was suddnely broken by the sound of stumbling footsteps
coming from the room next to them, and in a second a small face peered out
from behind the sheet which filled the doorframe.
	"Hewwo mummy," came the childish voice, "I couldn't sleep." He
blinked innocently at them, and then ambled forwards, his steps the
careful ones of those who either are drunk, or have just learned how to
walk. Katrina stared at him in exasperation for a moment, and then gave
in to his cheeky smile and said, "Oh, alright. Come over here then," and
patted her lap.
	Ignoring the pointed invitation, the toddler wandered over to
where Lyrix sat and dropped onto his legs. Wincing slightly at the sudden
weight, Lyrix looked across at Katrina, his face clearly saying 'What do I
do? Help me, please'. The toddler reached up to fiddle with Lyrix's skull
medallion that hung from his neck, turning it this way and that and
admiring the way it caught the light and seemed to suck it in some times,
and at others reflect it in a shimmer across the surface.
	Gently, Lyrix untangled the medallion and shifted it so that it
rested under his black shirt, away from prying fingers. The toddler
promptly flung his arms around Lyrix's neck and squeezed him tightly. The
startled look on Lyrix's face caused Gogo to laugh, which she quickly
turned into a snort when she met Lyrix's suddenly icy glare.
	Katrina smiled gently and said, "I think he likes you, Lyrix."
Lyrix flashed an uncertain smile, not knowing what to do.

***********************

	Moving quietly though the dark, a gleam of light from a crack in a
wall caught Shamel's eye, and he moved cautiously towards it. Soon he
could hear quiet voices, which suddenly borke off, interrupted by another.
Swiftly, he stepped over to the crack and pressed his eye to it, just in
time to see a young child give Lyrix a hug. This was where he wanted to
be, where he knew what Lyrix was doing, so he could wait until he was
unprepared, and then take him.
	He waited there for half an hour, patiently listening to the
chatter going on within, until a word caught his ear. "Temple?" he
thought. "These people have a temple here? Probably to some pagan god.
This I had better look into. His wish to bring these people to the true
path momentarily overtook his wish to see Lyrix punished. After all, Lyrix
wouldn't be going anywhere; surely he could slip off and check this
"temple" out.
	It wasn't hard to find it; it was the largest structure in the
village, and not far away. Softly easing the door open, he slipped inside
and peered around. It was extremely dark, but he could see the faint
shadows of benches, and up the other end was a t able of sorts, which a
small lump on it. He began to walk towards it. "Why would they have so
many benches?" he wondered as he wound his way though the numerous seats.
"There weren't many humans in the villlage; the ones with Lyrix -" A scowl
settled on his face. "- were the only ones I've seen. The rest were
monsters."
	And then sudden understanding overtook him. These... these
"people" were teaching the monsters in a false religion! A shudder
overtook him at the thought that anyone could even contemplate such an
abomination. These creatures were being sorely mislead, he had no doubt
about that. That this temple existed at all was sickening to one of the
true faith.
	Hurriedly backing away from the altar, for there was no doubt that
was what it was, revulsion filling him with righteous anger, he tripped
over a bench behind him. It fell over with a clatter, and a moment later a
voice went, "Lerzsh a thu?". Staring wildly around him, he saw a shadow
detatch itself from the wall and show itself to be a guard he had missed,
a monster sleeping in the shadows of the temple.
	Drawing a dagger, Shamel moved towards the creature, meaning to
silence it quickly, before it roused anyone. However, it must have seen
the glint of the blade, and it roared out a warning at the top of its
voice. Answering voices came sleepily from all around, and he knew he
would have to leave now. He cursed as he backed away, and then an
inspriation struck him. He might have to go, but he would destroy this
foul temple, leaving the village ready for HIS priests to come and
cleanse.
	He reached a hand into his robe, and then withdrew a small vial.
Throwing it at the wall with one hand, he reached behind him for the door
with the other. The vial hit the wall and shattered, and immediately the
wall burst into flames, flames which quickly spread. He slipped out the
door and away into the shelter of darkness. Now that he had time to think,
he knew he had made a mistake. He should have left quietly; now Lyrix
would be on his guard.
	He wouldn't be able to get near him for some time. He cursed
himself for a fool, and then gave a start as he heard human voices coming
from a nearby hut.

*********************

	The lamp was turned down low, now, as the four sat around the
lamp, with the toddler curled up in Lyrix's arms. Their conversation had
turned to other things besides their past; now it was just the amiable
talk of friends, although Lyrix still stayed quiet, rarely speaking.
However, he seemed more relaxed, more at ease than he had in any of the
short time Gogo had known him.
	The child in Lyrix's lap made him uncomfortable, yet at the same
time, he felt a warm glow inside. It was a feeling he didn't understand,
and so it, too, made him uncomfortable. Suddenly, a shout broke the
silence. He glanced up immediately, every sense alert, his face going
blank again, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Gogo beat him to it.
"What is it?" she asked Katrina.
	"Someone's in trouble." The cry for help came again, and Katrina
cried, "I think it's coming from the temple!" She stood up quickly, as did
Duane. It went quiet outside for a moment, and then more cries came, and
this time Katrina's face went pale. "The temple's on fire! Oh, gods. How
could this happen?" She rushed down the rope ladder, Duane close behind.
Lyrix looked at Gogo, and they each knew what the other was thinking. They
had to help.
	Gogo scrambled after the other two, while Lyrix carefully moved
the child off his lap, and then followed. He found Duane talking wildly to
Katrina at the bottom of the rope ladder, with Gogo standing by, not sure
what to do.
	"You've got to stay here, " Duane was saying. "If the children
wake up, they could cause a real problem getting in the way! They won't
understand what is happening. They'll need you here to look after them."
His hands were waving wildly around in the air as he spoke, punctuating
everything he said with a handwave. Katrina nodded slowly, and Duane ran
off towards the temple, Lyrix and Gogo close behind. Lyrix was alert, but
he didn't notice the figure shadowed by nearby huts any more than Gogo or
Duane did.
	Katrina stared at the flaming temple and her heart sank. It was
too far gone; there was no way they could save it, she knew. Sadly, she
turned back to the rope ladder, in time to see her son coming down the
ladder, his back to her.
	She quickly caught him, and then turned him around to face her.
"And where do you think you're going, son?" she asked quietly.
	"Want to go with man!" was the determined reply.
	Katrina looked back at the temple. She could see figures darting
here and there, her husband in the middle, trying to organise the monsters
into a firefighting team. She sighed. "You can't," she answered.
	"Will." came the sullen voice of her son.
	"No!" her tone was sharper now, "You can't go with Lyrix."
	Suddenly, she sensed a presence next to her. She turned in
startlement, not having heard anyone approaching. A dark figure was next
to her, his hand already at her throat. She felt a little pressure, and
then the world started to fade away, replaced by darkness. She remained
conscious long enough to hear a voice say by her ear, "No, he won't go to
Lyrix. Lyrix will come to ME!"
	A firm grip pulled her son from her, and she tried to say, "No,
you can't!" but the world faded away too fast, and she slumped, alone, to
the ground.