#qwade

Bria felt a tremor in the water, a shockwave of impact that resounded beneath the waves. Rising to the surface, she stuck her head above the water to see if she could find out what had happened. There, in the distance, she saw a magical battle taking place on the high arcing bridge that crossed from Naroom to the Spirals. Flames licked across the bridge, and tiny figures, unidentifiable at this distance, dreamed up creatures that fought across the dangerous landmark.

She dived back under the waves and swam vigorously up the freshwater river to see who was fighting. As she drew closer, she heard a faint voice, burbly beneath the water, a timid, high-pitched voice that she hadn’t heard for years and years.

"Ow," it said. "Ow ow ow ow. Ow ow ow ow ow. Somebody make it stop hurting. Now ow ow ow ow."

"Qwade?" she asked herself, at once incredulous and excited. She swam faster, and there, ahead and above, she saw him. The sun silhouetted him on the surface of the water; his long tentacles spread out like an anemone. Bria winced; judging by his spread-eagled stance, it looked like he had belly-flopped into the river.

She moved up to him, tentatively reaching out one hand. She'd had such a crush on him when they were children, all those years ago, yet she was surprised to have all those feelings return at once like a flood of eels. She stroked his jawbone just behind his mask. "Qwade? Is it really you?"

His eyes opened immediately, flaring with inner power. "Of course it is," he said with a deep, powerful voice, utterly different from the thin, tremulous voice she had heard a moment ago. He flexed his arms, rippling his muscles, and clenched his hand into a fist. "I am the real Qwade," he rumbled, "and, at last, I am in control."

He seized Bria around the waist with one tentacle, his muscles as hard as steel, but holding her as gently as a bed of bubbles.

"You've have grown up, my dear," he said. "I like the change."

"Me, too," gushed Bria, her heart pounding. Suddenly she blushed. "That is, I never thought you cared about me," she said.

"That will change," promised Qwade. "Now tell me, Bria, what does your heart desire most of all?" He moved closer, his eyes glowing from behind his iron mask.

* * * * *

"Stolen?!" Barak's thunderous voice echoed as he smashed through the large doors to his throne chamber. Carefully dodging the massive doors as they flew away from Barak's fists, Valkan repeated his message.

"The Scroll of Fire was stolen from our repository. Sir," Valkan added with a slight bow as Barak wheeled on him. Barak trembled with rage, rubbing his brow and breathing heavily.

"VAL--" Barak started with a heave and a shout, but he caught himself, took a deep breath and began again. "Valkan, what do we know for sure?" Valkan retreated a few steps, wary in the face of Barak's fury. Although Barak would never hurt anyone without serious provocation, that never stopped him from being downright intimidating, especially to someone of Valkan's small stature.

"All we know is that someone broke into the repository and took the Scroll of Fire, along with most of the other relics that were not out being used. There is no sign of who did it. The how is easy, they just ripped the door out of the wall. When, is sometime in the past day. Because everyone has been so busy with the problem in the Weave with the Shadow Magi, and keeping track of all the ruckus in Naroom, the repository wasn't being watched properly." Valkan finished his report and stepped back. "What shall we do?"

Barak again rubbed his forehead. "One thing is for certain, and that is that this act can not go unpunished, especially now. In these troubled times, we cannot afford to look weak and disorganized. Valkan, what are we doing to learn who the culprit was?"

"Ven and Raega are trying to see what clues they can..." Valkan trailed off as an approaching noise stole his attention. Ven and Raega came charging in, with Ven holding something in his outstretched arm.

"Have you discovered who has done this?" spat Barak.

"We do not know who exactly, but we know they came from Orothe. We found this piece of karak claw lodged in the wall," Ven reported. "Also, we found traces of water and a few scales that were probably shed when some of the traps fired."

With a low growl, Barak stood up and began pacing his chamber. Raega, Ven and Valkan all looked at each other, wondering what Barak's reaction would be. Violent? Yeah, they were pretty sure of that. Decisive? Of course. As they were exchanging glances, Barak turned to them with an all-too-calm expression on his face.

"If it was Orothe, I think I may know who in particular. A conversation that I had a while back makes me confident that we will find what has been stolen in the Orothean Vault of Knowledge.

"Valkan, prepare for a fight. Get Gar and Magam together. Ven, Raega, I want you along as well. Cald will be thought weak if we don't respond to this outrage. Orothe must answer for this crime, and we will reclaim what is ours," Barak said, glaring at the three Calders.

"Yes sir!" Valkan snapped. He, Ven and Raega turned and left, quickly putting distance between themselves and the warlord behind them. As they reached the end of the corridor and began to part, Valkan spoke to the other two, "Whoever did this, they will soon find out that they chose the wrong region to mess with. I'll see you at the docks."

Ven and Raega nodded soberly as they hurried to make their preparations.

* * * * *

In a forgotten part of the ruins, somewhat near the Orothean Vault of Knowledge, two figures moved in the shadows.

"I can't believe we did it," squealed Bria in childish delight.

"I told you that you could have whatever you want, and that I can make much more happen," Qwade replied in a deep, hypnotic tone. He glided over to her and took her in his arms. She sank willingly into his embrace, enveloped by his tentacles and entranced by his glowing eyes. "You desire the relics of the Moonlands--as you should, for only someone of your power should wield them--and we have taken the first step toward acquiring them all." Qwade looked down into Bria's warm and inviting eyes. He spun her away as if they were dancing, the tip of one of his tentacles wrapping seductively about her slender waist. "If you believe in me, together we can gather all of the power of the Moonlands. You will look so beautiful with them arrayed all about you."

Qwade turned from Bria and slithered slowly away. Under his breath he said to himself, "And once I have what I need, I will guarantee that you get to do whatever you want, my love." His smile filled with malice.

Bria moved up behind him and asked, "Won't the Calders come looking for their relics? And won't the others?"

Qwade looked at her with disdain for the fear that she was showing, but his mask hid it from her. He spoke in a reasonable voice, saying, "Barak was corrupted by his journey through the geyser. Believe me, I know that, for I only narrowly escaped that fate myself. I also know that he was already looking to plunder the Vault of Knowledge. If the Calders dare show their faces here, tell Mobis these things, and he will stop any advances. Meanwhile, we shall move the contents of the Vault somewhere safe."

"Nowhere is safer than the Vault."

"When a corrupted Barak comes knocking, nowhere is safe," said Qwade grimly. "Nowhere… but in your hands, Bria. You alone can keep the Orothean relics safe from the hands of fire."

"Yes, that's perfect," Bria beamed. She flitted away from him, talking to herself about all the treasures that she would one day own. Her eyes roamed lovingly across the strong muscular surfaces of Quade's tentacles. "I'm so glad you're back my love. I always hoped you would return one day and notice me. My world is complete with you here."

Qwade grinned and responded in a silky voice, "Complete? Not yet, my dear, but then, neither is your collection. But soon it will be."

* * * * *

"The Scroll of Fire was stolen?" said a surprised Kolte. "Serves them right, those arrogant hot-heads."

Gia looked at the gathered Magi with a serious expression. "For what they've done to the Weave, they deserve to have their relics plundered!"

"I heard that it was someone from Orothe that did it, and that the Calders are fuming over it," said Scyalla.

Bo'Ahsa paused, pondering an idea. She bounced it around for a moment, thought, and then spoke, "Maybe we should help the Orotheans out a little--you know, give some payback to Cald?"

Gia nodded, obviously pleased with Bo'Ahsa's decisive words. "Indeed, my dear, that seems like an excellent idea."

* * * * *

"Emec! Emec! Where are you?" Ullig shouted. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Emec! This is urgent for Kybar's sake! I need to speak to you!" She stomped around corners, peering into caves and staring up the cliffs, looking for the old Ringsmith.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" Emec finally replied as he emerged grouchily from a cave.

"We've been robbed!" Ullig blurted.

"What!?" Emec shot back in stunned disbelief. Ullig just stood there, bouncing her head up and down and staring with wide eyes at Emec. He composed himself and tried again. "What do you mean, 'robbed'? What's missing?"

"Just name it," spat Ullig. "I had to go to the storage caves to retrieve my slingshot, and it was gone. Also missing was... well, everything else that was magic!"

Emec was in shock. Nothing like this had ever happened before. However, considering all the trouble that was brewing, what with Cald and Shadow Magi roaming the Weave, the Dark Twins' seizure of Naroom and the Great Library, the Shadow Magi encroaching on the foothills of the Teeth, and the unprecedented struggle between Bograth and Paradwyn, times were certainly volatile.

"Does Targ'n know?" Emec asked.

"He's with most of the others, making sure that we don't get surprised from below by any Shadow Magi. There was talk that some Core Magi were spotted near the crossroads. What should we do?"

Emec thought for a moment, but not much was coming to mind. "We are going to need to find out what happened, and go after those responsible. We can't sit back and do nothing. If the Magi of the Core should attack, we will need those relics for our defense!"

* * * * *

Deep within the northern reaches of the Great Forest of Naroom, Wence and Ebylon awaited word of the fight around Vash Naroom. Ebylon had received a call for help from his friend Wence, and decided that for all the times Wence had been there for him, he had to return the favor.

Wence and Ebylon bristled as they heard something coming toward them through the woods. "What is it?" whispered Wence to Ebylon. Ebylon just shrugged.

The two Magi prepared themselves for whatever might emerge, readied their rings and steadied their nerves. With an explosion of branches, twigs, leaves and dirt, Voda came spilling out of the jungle and tumbled onto the ground in front of Ebylon and Wence. They blinked, looked at each other, raised their eyebrows questioningly and helped the young Magi up off the ground.

"What are you doing here?" asked Ebylon.

Catching his breath, holding his hands on his knees, Voda responded, "Heard… Cald… attacking…." Ebylon and Wence sat Voda down on a log and handed him a flask of water to drink from.

"Thank you," Voda gasped in between huge gulps of water. He settled down and caught his breath. "Ebylon, we have word that Cald is coming to attack us, and we need you to come back and help."

Wence looked at Voda disbelievingly and asked, "Why would Cald be attacking you?" Voda just shrugged. "Mobis doesn’t know either, but he pointed out that Barak did go into the geyser after Tryn. Maybe something happened to Barak while he was in the geyser?" Their expressions sobered as they pondered the evidence.

Wence gripped Ebylon's shoulder. "My friend, thank you for coming to my aid, but it seems like you need to get back and help your own people out now. I will wait for Yaki. We'll meet up again soon."

"I'm sorry I have to depart but thanks for understanding. Good luck, and I will come back as soon as I am able." Ebylon embraced his friend and turned to join Voda in an urgent return to their home beneath the sea.

* * * * *

Flanked by saldarits, a stern group of Calder Magi moved toward Oscent-Mar, looking for the Vault.

"I got a message from Gar," said Valkan. "He said that some relics have been stolen from the Teeth, as well."

"Really?" asked Barak. "Excellent. It's been a very long time since any region has moved against another like we are now. This action will be unpopular, at least at first. But we will show our strength and our resolve, and when we return whatever other relics we find in the hands of the Orotheans to the proper owners, I think we'll find we have a lot more support."

"Get ready, people," said Magam. "Raega's signaling. We're there."

---

Weapons of Darkness, Part 3 by Matt Deffer and Edward Bolme Read Part 2 "Blade of Grass"

"I win again!" Qwade shouted at Orthea. They floated in the still water of the deep sea. An underwater volcano added a reddish tint to the light and warmed the water. It was a favorite spot for young Magi to practice conjuring and challenge each other to games of skill.

Qwade floated with his five octopus-like legs fanned out beneath him. He grinned at Orthea. Orthea's bright red hair soaked the color from the volcano and seemed to become a ring of fire around her head. She floated on her back so she could get the most heat. Her blue tail lazily moved in the odd current to keep her in place. Her head hung down facing Qwade so that he appeared upside-down when she looked.

"I won, so now you have to get me something to eat!" Qwade crossed his arms across his chest and stuck his tongue out at Orthea. She returned the gesture then rolled over to warm her stomach. She rested her head on her crossed arms.

"No I don't, you cheated!"

"I did not, I won! You have to do what I say!" Qwade yelled and swam closer to Orthea.

"Oh yeah? I bet you're hiding something!" Orthea huffed and spun so that she faced Qwade with her tail pointed down towards the sea floor.

"Am not!"

"Prove it!" Orthea pointed at Qwade's tentacles.

"I don't have to, I'm the winner. Go suck on a sea slug!" Qwade's tentacles wound around each other beneath him.

"I'll never play with you again and I'll tell everyone you're a cheater unless you show me you're not hiding anything," Orthea placed her hands on her hips.

"Fine, fine, if you're going to be a whiny little girl!" Qwade lifted his tentacles one at a time to show her the empty suckers underneath.

"That's not fair, you have to show all of them at once!"

"You’re stalling! Now do what I say," Qwade pouted.

"No!"

"If you don't, I'll--"

"You'll what?" Orthea swam up close to Qwade so that her nose nearly touched his. Qwade growled and flashed his teeth at Orthea.

"Orthea, Qwade, what's going on here?" An old Magi with bluish-purple hair and a crown of red and blue coral raised an eyebrow at the two quarreling. He leaned a twisting trident of green and brown coral but his eyes shone with a strength that made the two quiet immediately and back away from each other. After a moment, Qwade inched closer to the Magi. His voice trembled ever so slightly when he spoke.

"Elder Mobis, Orthea won't do what I say! She never listens to me no matter how often I prove I'm better than her. She's jealous she's not as good as me!"

"He's a shellhead and he cheats every game! He's hiding something under his tentacles right now!"

"Am not! I already let her look and she didn't find anything. She has to listen to me, tell her to respect her betters."

Mobis sighed. He frowned at the two young Magi.

"You little ones need to learn to work together. Soon, you'll both be called to use your talents to protect Orothe. How can you guard your family and your friends if you bicker over meaningless trifles?" Mobis raked his gaze across the two.

"You, Orthea, I'm especially disappointed with," he said. Orthea could see Qwade behind Mobis waggle his fingers in front of his nose at her. "You are older and have trained more... diligently. There is no respect to be had in picking on Qwade; he is difficult enough without you and Ebylon constantly trying to show him up."

"What?" Qwade blushed and grabbed Mobis's arm. It was Orthea's turn to make faces at him.

"They only beat me when they work together... and then only if they surprise me and I'm tired from all the important things I do. They can't stand the fact everyone looks up to me. Sometimes I just let them win so they don't cry like the children they are. Obviously they couldn't really..."

Mobis raised a baleful eyebrow at Qwade. Qwade let go of his arm.

"I mean, well, you know what I mean," Qwade puffed out his chest and swam to float next to Orthea.

"See? He's always like that, it's impossible to be nice to him or he thinks you want to be his slave!" Orthea huffed. "He's not even brave enough to walk on land!"

"Am too! I learned way before you and got bored with it because only barnacle-brains would want to go up on land," Qwade shouted, the color in his face rising until he nearly glowed.

"Everybody knows he's the only one who doesn't go up to see the Naroom carnival in spring."

"I just don't want to, it's so dry up there, and the Naroom Magi are so ugly," Qwade said with his eyes cast towards the ground.

"You're the ugly one, Qwade!" spat Orthea.

"Beauty is skin deep, but true power comes from within," said Qwade haughtily.

"That's 'true beauty comes from within,' stupidhead!" countered Orthea. "You can't even get that right, and you never will, because you're ugly inside and out!" Then she turned and started to swim away.

"Did you hear that?" Qwade asked Mobis angrily. "Make her take it back! Make her say I'm not ugly!"

Mobis started to open his mouth, then paused, then turned and slowly swam over to where Orthea sulked.

The two spoke for a few moments, then Orthea turned to Qwade and yelled, "Mobis says I should be nice to you so you won't cry! But you're just an ugly spoiled brat! You're head's so swollen I wish it would make you fly away to Arderial and never bother us again!" Then she turned and swam away as fast as she could.

Mobis shook his head and followed her, leaving Qwade alone by the volcanic vent.

Qwade let his arm drop and fought back the tears.

"Maybe..." he said, "maybe that's just what I'll do."

* * * * *

Qwade looked back toward his home from just off the coast of Naroom. He carried a staff of blue coral and elegantly twisted driftwood. On a belt of knotted seaweed hung a bag that carried some food and large flask of seawater.

"Think I'm ugly? I'll show you. I'll get back at you all. Especially you, Orthea. You couldn't just treat me right, you were jealous of my power. True power lies within, not in a pretty face. How could any of them give me the respect I deserve when you keep mocking my looks? I'll punish you until you learn proper manners, and then I'll make Mobis lock you up in Hubdra's Cube in front of everybody for being so... for being so... so mean!" Qwade shook a fist at the rippling ocean, "All of Orothe will pay for not respecting me!" Qwade looked up the beach towards the huge trees of the Naroom forest and said, "I just hope that any pathetic locals will know how important I am."

Qwade started out of the water. When he was far enough up the beach that the water only touched his lower waist he stopped and looked at the forest looming just beyond the sand. He smacked his lips and looked back across the rippling ocean.

"I see they were all too afraid of me to bid me farewell. Hmph. I'll search the drylands, and reveal my true greatness to whomever I meet. And then I'll be back, I'll come back and everyone will see that I am the best Magi that ever was and they'll carry me in parades and feed me and beg to do as I say."

He stopped at the edge of the forest and looked one last time at the waves lapping against the shore. He took a step towards the water. He squared his shoulders then turned and slithered into the shadows between the trees.

Unseen behind him, Bria floated in the surf and watched his departure, tears in her eyes.

* * * * *

Two shadows stepped out of the trees by the beach. Light brown strips of cloth wrapped their legs and feet. The rest of their clothing was dark; even their skin was green so that they seemed a part of the forest. The woman had long green hair that reached past her waist and covered her eyes. The man covered his lower face with a dark green cloth. Their eyes glowed an evil yellow in the dim light. They looked at each other, and their cold snickering sounded like a snake slithering across leaves. They disappeared down the path behind Qwade, silent as the onset of night.

They followed him easily. His broad lower body forced him to go around most of the trees. He wasn't used to traveling on land so he often tried to force his way through underbrush thinking that it would move gently aside like the soft seaweed he was used to. He was sitting with his back against a tree looking thoroughly miserable when they caught up to him. His flask sat nearly empty on the ground and his satchel of food rested in a nook between the roots of the tree.

"Why doesn't someone help me? I am the great Qwade, those wicked Naroomese are hiding nearby and won't help me because they're jealous, too! Just like Orthea. I bet they want me to starve in this dirty forest. They'll pay too," Qwade scratched his jaw and grumbled. He stuffed a seaweed cake into his mouth and fished around in his satchel for another. The empty bag clung to his hand as he tried to pull it out. He flailed his hand, and the bag flew off and landed beside the tree. He glared at it.

"No matter, I'll simply get food from the next Magi I come across. If I find one of those stupid Naroomese, I'll teach him I'm not to be trifled with. He'll beg to give me whatever I desire! And if he doesn't... well, I'll make sure he never forgets his mistake," Qwade chuckled. He looked behind him at the tree and patted it with his hands, imagining it would turn into a soft bed of sea sponge. He sighed and rubbed his back against the bark, wishing it would fluff and form to him like a pillow.

"What have we here, sister?" came a hiss from directly above his head. Qwade looked up to stare directly into the glowing yellow eyes of the male. He hung upside down from a branch and his hair splayed all around his face so that for a moment Qwade thought he was going to be eaten by a horrible fuzzy forest monster. At the same moment, a young woman materialized out of the shadows facing Qwade. She made no sound, and she moved with such grace that Qwade was sure she floated across the grass. Her lips were pursed in a wicked smile that caught Qwade's eyes and wouldn't let go. He felt stuck in a trance until her hand touched his cheek. The moment shattered and he squealed and jerked his head back, bonking it into the trunk of the tree behind him.

The woman's smile widened.

"Why, brother, unless my eyes deceive, it must be the great Orothean Magi Qwade, cast out by the jealous lesser people of the sea. Look, his power shines in his eyes," the woman spoke in a whisper that reminded Qwade of the dark of a cave, mysterious and dangerous. Qwade had never liked caves.

The man back-flipped off his branch to land on his toes next to Qwade. He grabbed Qwade's jaw and forced him to look at him. Qwade grimaced under the scrutiny.

"Sister, I believe you are right. Why, he is obviously too good to be out here in the muck and dirt of this forest, we should take him home with us and treat him as he so obviously deserves," the man chuckled and let go of Qwade.

"How-- how did you know my name?" Qwade couldn't help cringing from him.

"Why, we all know your name, stories of your obvious greatness are easy to find for those with the ears to hear them," the woman lightly ran a sharp fingernail across Qwade's shoulder.

Finally, thought Qwade, people with proper manners towards their betters. And they obviously have some skills or they would not have been able to sneak up on me. They could be useful, but...

"You seem to know my reputation, but who are you?" Qwade asked as he tried to stand tall, not knowing that the tree branch above him was an unmoving as the shrubs and tree trunks. He exhaled sharply and rubbed the new bump on his head. The woman stepped so close to Qwade that he could look at nothing else.

"I am Warrada and he is my brother Hrada. We have some small power ourselves, though of course not as strong as we've heard about you," she smiled as Qwade nodded. Behind him, Hrada quietly looked through Qwade's satchel. He grimaced and shook his head at Warrada and threw the bag and Qwade's flask far back into the shadows of the forest.

"Oh no!" Warrada gasped and pointed, "Some Naroomese devils have stolen your food and water!"

Qwade whirled and stared at the place he had left his supplies. Hrada leaned casually against the trunk with his arms folded across his chest.

"My dear sister, I don't know how they could have done it, I haven't moved from this spot. Obviously they are crafty devils, it's lucky this Orothean was here or we might have been taken captive as well!" Hrada yawned.

Qwade whined, "But aren't you from Naroom as well? And what about my food?"

"Oh, we would never be part of the vile people of Naroom. We represent a band of Magi that have been wronged by people too jealous or stupid to recognize that we simply want what we deserve. Together we will force them to respect us. We've been looking for you for quite some time; the stories say you have the power to lead. But they seem too good to be true. No one could be that strong," Warrada pulled away from Qwade and hugged herself as if warding away false hopes. Under her bangs she winked at Hrada.

"No, no, everything you've heard is true," Qwade reached out to comfort Warrada, "and if you've heard it from those dirty Orotheans, it's probably not anywhere near as great as I truly am. Jealousy clouds their eyes and makes them tell ridiculous stories to bring down their betters. The best they can come up with is to say I'm ugly," added Qwade grumpily.

"Oh, you must come with us," she replied. "We'll give you a comfortable place to rest and all the food you desire," Warrada extended a hand to Qwade and smiled, revealing a pair of wickedly pointed fangs. Qwade nearly flinched but managed to hold still.

"But if you're not from Naroom, where are you from? And what are you doing here?" Qwade's eyes narrowed. He pulled himself to his full height. One of his legs slowly reached and coiled around his staff.

"The Core, of course," Hrada stepped away from the tree to stand next to his sister, "Where else would we be welcome. Don't you see? All the Magi up here are too selfish, too jealous to treat you like you deserve. And, as my dear sister said, we've come to find you."

"But the Core is evil. The stories of Agram..." Qwade shivered. Faster than the twins could react he tossed his staff from his tentacle to his hands and spun it into a horizontal bar between him and the twins.

"Oh, Qwade, how misinformed you are. Those are silly tales told by ignorant people," Warrada said as she and Hrada slowly moved apart. Qwade's eyes darted between them and he pushed back against the tree. Above his mask, Hrada's narrow eyes grinned at Qwade.

"These Magi just want to keep you from getting what you deserve, and the power of the Core can give you that," Warrada reached past Qwade's staff to rest lightly on his forearm. The warmth in her hand surprised him and he relaxed in spite of himself, "Why else would they tell a Magi as powerful as you to beware the Core? What have you to fear? They are selfishly trying to keep that power for themselves so that you will never get the respect you deserve."

Qwade nodded and let go of the staff with one hand and rested the tip on the ground so that it stood up straight next to him. He looked up at the sky; it was all coming together for him. He would go to the Core and lead these poor people to victory over Orothe and he would be treated as he should. Everyone would finally do as he said.

"Yes, yes, I see now, I knew it all along. I will help you in your time of need. It is good that I found you before those nasty Naroomese. I knew you would need my skills to lead you to victory," Qwade said and gestured all around him. Warrada giggled when Qwade's gaze fell on her, but she frowned and made a gagging gesture at Hrada as soon as he turned away.

"Now, you said something about food and a place to sleep?"

"Follow us and you'll get what you deserve."

* * * * *

"Wow, now he's ugly," said Harror as the Dark Twins brought Qwade in to meet Agram.

"You're just jealous of my power!" shouted Qwade immediately. "Just like all the rest!"

"Silence," murmured Agram, seated upon his throne, and so powerful was his bass voice that immediately all noise in the room stopped. Qwade was afraid his heart might be beating too loud.

The undisputed ruler of the Core looked at the new recruit. He cast a spell and drew the memories out of Qwade, teasing them like a fish on a line. You're the ugly one, Qwade... you're ugly inside and out. The words whispered in the air of the throne room, an echo of the painful past.

"Hmm," Agram ran a taloned hand across his chin as he looked at Qwade, "I may have something to beautify your face and let your inner power shine through," he said.

"But sir, I don't need anything, Orthea was just lying because she's jealous," Qwade growled.

"Nevertheless, I believe you deserve to have this. It's an ancient relic made by one of your forefathers, you should be proud to wear it," Agram snapped his fingers, and immediately Jalex appeared at his side, bearing a very old coral box, covered with barnacles. Agram reached in and removed a slightly curved plate that had two leaf-shaped holes, each with two red stripes painted beneath.

"It's a mask," Qwade said as Agram put it into his hands. Above the eyeholes the mask curved out to look like smooth eyebrows. Just under the jaw a ridge extended outward and five smooth triangles, like wide, dulled teeth jutted down. Qwade ran a finger across the triangles then looked closely at them.

"These... these are tentacles," Qwade touched the back of one that showed a multitude of tiny engraved circles. Agram nodded.

"That's right. It was made by one of your ancestors, one without fins. Only an Orothean with a character such as yours can use it. Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

Qwade stared at Agram as he departed. His knuckles turned white where his hands gripped the mask. The muscles along his jaw stood out and he breathed heavily. Then he looked at Warrada standing coyly beside him, and he suddenly relaxed and flashed her a smile that didn't touch his eyes.

"See? Even Agram knows I deserve the best. The sooner you and the others realize it, the better. And so saying, he placed the mask on his face. It adhered to his skin with a curious sucking sound.

"Woah," said Qwade. "Is it darker in here, or is it just me?"