[Amanaduial the archer]

The lake was smooth and calm, wider and vaster even than the desert, stretching so far into the distance that it terrified Zamara. And it was unlike any lake she had even heard of, for along it's surface ran small ripples, moving as if with some purpose although the air was still and there was no wind. Reaching out with one bare foot, Zamara stretched out her toes towards the water, trembling slightly. The water lapped up towards her, and she leapt backwards from it as it chased her feet up the soft white sand. Smiling foolishly, the woman realised that she was not really afraid of the waves, although the vast lake's strangeness confused her greatly; for this, undoubtedly, was the Sea, an almost immeasurable expanse of waters that those nomads who had travelled farthest spoke of; an expanse of waters that stretched so far that anything could lie beyond it... Zamara smiled serenely, looking out across the waters with her hand shaded across her eyes.

And in the distance, something stirred.

Puzzlement in her blue-brown eyes, Zamara watched the horizon, watched for this movement: a shadow that stirred across the water. And it was getting larger now, she saw. As if it was coming nearer to shore. Her smile flickered as she watched it, and she rubbed her arms as a chill seemed to creep up from nowhere, a chill bound to shore by no wind, for the air still remained deathly still. Taking a hesitant step backwards, her anxiousness increasing to fear, Zamara could not understand the feeling that the shadow brought; the images of fear and pain that seemed to dance at the edge of her vision, cracking like whips as they taunted her. And the shadow seemed to taunt her too, for in a second it was almost upon her, the blackness covering the beach, shrouding her vision all around in fog and mist, in a sense of hopelessness that could never be removed. She felt tears well up in her eyes, but fought the urge to run as the shadow whipped around her, stirring up a wind in the air, whipping a vicious tumult up upon the waters. A wind that seemed to whisper her name. But the priestess did not move, staring straight into the blackness although even the very sand around her seemed to shrink before it and every sense in her body told her to run. She stared it out, the blue in her eyes shining fiercely as she willed herself not to move, to have the strength not to break down.

Horsemen...there were horsemen riding upon the shadow, seven of them, shades of men, cloaked and covered from head to toe in black, each bearing a sword in one hand. And on the other hand...on the other hand, shining as brightly as a star with but with subtle fierceness of a hidden snake, something burned, some small object set alight and burning fiercer than the sun...

And before their ride, the very earth began to tremor beneath Zamara's feet. "I will not yield to you," she bellowed fiercely into the shadow, injecting into her words a confidence that she did not feel as she struggled to remain upright; but her voice seemed futile, tinny, muffled by the black fog that now closed in, enveloping her, suffocating. "I will not yield to you..." Again, the wind whispered her name, a sibilant, insinuating hiss...

With a yell, Zamara struck out with one arm, flinging herself forward...into Nadda. The woman's unexpected strength and the fierceness of her reaction from sleep surprised Nadda and the servant girl found herself slammed against the wall in an instant, the furious High Priestess's hands pinning her shoulders to the wall. Unaccustomed to sleepwalkers or anything of the type, the girl yelped then quailed against the wall, terrified of the monster that Zamara had become. A second that seemed like an age passed in total silence and stillness before Zamara finally seemed to see what she beheld, and she blinked and stepped away hurriedly from Nadda, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand as she took a long, shaky breath and blinked a few more times, truly coming too. Yawning, she looked apologetically at the servant girl who still cowered against the wall then looked away, mortified by her sudden rage. "My apologies, Nadda, I...I did not...you startled me from a dream, that is all. I was-" she stopped abruptly, suddenly sensing that relaying her dream may not be the wisest thing to do. Why, she was not sure; for if you tell a nightmare to someone, it does not come true. Isn't that what her mother had told her?

Shaking muddled childhood supersticions from her mind, Zamara collected her thoughts and took another deep breath, more controlled this time, and set Nadda with her straight, no-nonsense gaze - with eyes that seemed bluer by the day. "No matter, it was merely a dream. That...that is all." She nodded, half to herself, and not for the first time, wondered if she really was as mad as the Emissary had made her out to be. Certainly from the fear in the servant girl's wide dark eyes, Nadda seemed to have very little doubt of that. Smiling, she bid the girl a more proper good morning, but Nadda's barely reply, uncharacteristically skimping on ceremony for the first time in her career at the palace, almost bursting as she was with her news.

"High Priestess, I have bad news, I'm afraid: it is the Emissary, he...he made an announcement this morning." Despite herself, Nadda hesitated, eyeing Zamara almost warily. The Emissary's persuasive words had been so convincing, and although she had not believed it before, the girl was now having trouble considering that all he had said was untrue - the actions of the calm, collected woman in front of her barely a moment ago were surely not the actions of a sane women.

Zamara drew herself up a little, as if bracing herself for a blow. When Nadda hesitated, she croaked softly, "What did he say?"

Nadda paused for a moment longer, but could not contain herself. "He has said you are mad and-"

"-that your execution shall be carried out as soon as you are found. Good morning Zamara, and it does seem a shame to greet a new day with such grim news." Siamak's matter-of-fact tone was at odds to Nadda's exciteable voice and Zamara turned slowly to greet him. The question of how long he had been standing there, hands calmly clasped behind his back, standing erectly by the doorway, crossed her mind non-too-briefly. She smiled haplessly, raising her eyebrows. "My...execution?" she replied carefully. "And my trial...?"

Siamak clenched his jaw and, for once, dropped his eyes so her was looking just to the side of her face, avoiding her eyes. "Why does a madwoman who runs from her caretakers with the help of demons need a trial?"

Zamara's swift intake of breath was short as a pistol shot as it cut through the silence of the room. Then she gave a small snort of laughter and shook her head, causing both prince and servant to look at her in blatant surprise. But the laughter was short lived, and Zamara's face fell once again, melancholy and resignation settling on her features as she turned away from Siamak and went towards the window, although she did not go too close for fear of being seen - although it was unlikely that anyone would look up into this quietly concealed window from the pathways below. Not half a mile from where she stood in a forgotten, disused guest bedroom, the owner of the palace paced uneasily in his own quarters, hesitating only to look out of the window, seeing the same view as Zamara herself now gazed upon. It would little have comforted either of them, fallen priestess or falling king, to know that the other was suffering the same as they themselves were - voices and visions that came not only in night but in daylight too, the premonitions and fears made semi-solid creeping out of the cracks and crannies that surrounded their dwellings in a land that could be Paradise...The shadow comes closer from across the waters...

"Does Gjeelea know?"

Behind her, Zamara heard the rustle of Siamak's clothing as he shrugged, a spontaneous movement performed even though its intended reciever was not looking at him. "I have not yet spoken to my sister; I do not know if she has yet returned to Korak's house," he replied. "But Zamara, it was made as an announcement - I regret to say that the entire city knows. And as for the elves... well, there is bad news for them as well."

Zamara's head twitched suddenly as she raised her chin defiantly against the very sunlight outside as she prepared herself. "Tell me," she commanded softly.