Landon Reborn - made public

[Wired*Nun]

Standing next to the glowing Maze, Landon observes Heldrik's encounter, which draws the others' attention.

The first inkling of trouble for Landon is the last he can react to, as he feels an invasive Trump contact seize his attention. Struggling against a powerful mind, he feels like he could defend himself, until another joins in. The first mind feels conventional, human...the second, strange, alien. Landon feels himself being dragged through the trump contact, hears Arthur barking at his side.

The pressure eases abruptly, and Landon finds himself in utter darkness, standing, shaking, next to what feels like a stone wall, on an irregular stone floor. Arthur whines next to him, and sniffs. "Smells like a cave, and people have been here before. Smells like something else too, something like a...a...an animal, I'm not sure."

[TreyKincaide]

As the pressure eases Landon, overcome with dizziness, leans against the walk. He puts his back to it and allows himself to slide down so that he's sitting next to Arthur. He puts one arm around his companion for support as he prepares himself for a pounding headache that might be to come.

Landon's mind races as he grunts to Arthur and in a strained voice asks, "How fresh are the scents? I'm afraid I'm going to have to rely on your nose for the time being."

How long has it been since I've been in Challenger's shadow? Who did this to me? Where are they? How did they place me here without me going directly to them? Or did they? I hate Trump.

A keen cold hatred flares in Landon's heart prompting him to try to bring up the Pattern Lens in his mind's eye to take better stock of his surroundings despite his current mental fatigue.

I'm confident that "they" ( the thought rising a venomous viper) tooks steps to ensure that I am properly captured but I must be sure. "They" will pay for this. Oh, yes, "they" will pay.

[Wired*Nun]

The Pattern reveals nothing, a blackness of the mystical also stygian, empty. "Only the...animal...is fresh. Let me scout around a bit..." He moves off, sniffing along the edge of the wall. "Potatoes...onions, apples...some other roots in a bag here....water...I guess we're not supposed to die right away. Some bedding here, too. Feels like an opening here." He sniffs farther around and comes full circle, laying down with his head in Landon's lap. "Nothing else. Let me know when you want to explore some more. I wish we had some light."

A couple of hours pass, and Landon's fatigue and discomfort diminish, but nothing else changes.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon rests and thinks while petting Arthur.

"We'll get out sooner or later, my friend. We've been in worse scrapes than this."

Landon's thoughts flicker to the ring that Flora gave him and he feels his hands to see if it's still there.

((if it is))
Only if I have to and all other avenues are dead. I assume I'm bait and I'm not going to let anyone share my current predicament.

Landons thoughts turn to sorcerous avenues of escape and he likewise disregards such things for the time being.

"I could chase the darkness away my friend, but I don't know how much our captors know about us and don't want to give anything away until I have to."

Landon rises to his feet using the wall to guide himself.

"Well, for the time being we are 'guests.' I think we should determine the dimensions of our lovely new quarters."

[Wired*Nun]

First Landon finds the bag, with glass jars of what seem to be water or drink. Maneuvering around them, he finds the opening out of the small room he is in. Continuing to folow the left wall, it is only a moment before he sees a faint light, which outlines the corridor he is in. The end, and the light, are about fifty yards down. Creeping slowly towards it, allowing his eyes to adjust, he eventually looks out into a large room, about ten yards by twenty. There are two more openings leaving the room. The light is leaking in through the ceiling, faintly, as if through thick, thick glass.

The walls, floor, and ceiling are all of a glassy bluish rock.

[TreyKincaide]

Content to continue exploring slowly as to not fall Landon continues following the left wall into the first of the unknown caverns.

[Wired*Nun]

The first opening leads into a medium-sized cavern, which contains a cot, sleeping bag, blankets, cooking gear and a gas camping stove, and a large stock of canned goods. There are also a number of books stacked on the floor.

[TreyKincaide]

Strange things to find in a prison. Or is it a prison at all? I think I'm in someone's hideaway away place. Stranger and stranger

Landon tries to light the gas stove hoping it still has propane or it's equivalent left. He looks around and tries to find something that'll burn so he'll have light for a short amount of time. He turns off the gas stove when he starts a small fire and glances through the books on the floor. As he does so he asks Arthur, "The scents of people you smelled before. Were they familiar?"

After Arthur replies and Landon takes stock of his new library he rips apart the cot and attempts to fashion a makeshift torch and light it from his dying fire. He rises and returns to the center chamber still following the left wall. He walks down the other unexplored corridore.

[Wired*Nun]

When Landon touches the gas stove, he feels a tremendous pain shoot through his hand, as it were electrified. He also feels a buffeting blow which drives him back down the corridor toward the dark place that he arrived at. Semiconscious, he hears a deep, sinister chuckle. "You haven't earned any privileges, boy!" the voice says from...somewhere...

Arthur barks, and presses himself close to Landon. "I can't see anyone, or smell them either," he says.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon struggles to remain conscious. He opens and closes his hand to ward away numbness. He tries to bring up his Pattern Lens and hold it in front of himself. He puts one foot in front of the other as he tries to force his way down the corridor to the unexplored cavern.

[Wired*Nun]

As he tries to bring up the Pattern, another blow, from some invisible source, hits him in the stomach, hard enough to make him want to retch. "None of that garbage, foolish Amberite!" Arthur whines and says, "I can't see it! Woof!" Arthur is sent spawling by another blow, as well.

"I always wanted to get hold of one of you upstart scum. You don't look too scary now! Get back to your hole and hide, unless you want some more pain and suffering."

[TreyKincaide]

In a fit of pique and stubbornness Landon tries one last act of defiance as he tries to push himself forward down the cavern.

I will not submit. You will not kill me. Your master went to a lot of trouble to see that I'm conveniently out of the way, but I hold some value otherwise I'd be dead already. I'm sorry Arthur. I'm glad for your company, but you shouldn't have to suffer on my account.

[Wired*Nun]

Landon is picked up and flung backwards, into the dark hole he started in. Arthur folows a moment later. Everything hurts - his shoulder might be dislocated.

Arthur barks furiously, standing over Landon. No more blows come...for now. Apparently it is content to leave him here in the darkness.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon lies on his backside and stares upwards his mind playing tricks in the darkness. He rests dreading the pain that he'll have to inflict on himself should his shoulder need relocating. He asks Arthur as he feels his shoulder determining the extent of his injury, "Those people you smelled before. Were the scents familiar?"

Should he need to put his shoulder back in place he tries to rise to his knees and crawl to a nearby wall. He grits his teeth and hopes he'll faint from the resulting pain. He closes his eyes and beats his shoulder against the wall and cries out.

[Wired*Nun]

The painful task over with, Landon lies still for a while, resting and letting his body heal somewhat. Presently, he moves over to find the water, stale with long standing, but seemingly pure, which Arthur confirms with his nose. A measured drink helps somewhat, and Arthur laps a bit up himself.

The darkness is interminable, and sleep seems a wise option, for now. Rest, and heal...

Some hours later, Landon wakes, Arthur with him. All is silence. Cautiously approaching the opening, he finds the dirty roots and tubers, and makes an unsatisfying meal of them. Arthur chews doggedly on a potato. "It's not that bad, really...for a while," he says. More water, and Landon feels almost fit again.

[TreyKincaide]

"No, the worst part is in knowing that your enemies know more about you than you realized and that you can do nothing but wait until whatever game they want you to be part of is played out," Landon responds.

Landon leans against the wall and ponders.

So, expected rebellion aside, I'll allow my captor to be believe I'm crushed. One day when it makes a mistake, I'll make the creature choke on its own words. For the time being, though, I need to keep Arthur and myself fit and occupied lest our minds and bodies atrophe.

Landon begins stretching preparing to do what excercises he can during his confinement. He excercises until exhausted and plays word puzzles with Arthur until he gets hungry. He attempts to keep track of time as best as he can and keep himself and Arthur occupied every waking moment to keep from going mad in the darkness. All the while he keeps his eventual freedom and his enemies' despair in the back of his mind.

[Wired*Nun]

Days pass without incident.

[Will Landon be making any attempts to do anything else, test his boundaries so to speak?]

[TreyKincaide]

Periodically, when Landon believes that he could stand another beating Landon pushes the boundary of how far he can go down the cavern. He tries to see how attentive his captor is, how far he can get towards the unexplored cavern. At first he doesn't go very far, but each time he makes it further without incident he grows a bit bolder.

The word games he plays are geared towards discovering the Magic of this Shadow subtly and he's slowly attempting to work out a spell that will allow him to detect the presence of his adversary.

On occasion during a period of respite rather than go down the hallway he tries to Summon his Pattern Lens to mind. He goes about doing so far more slowly than he normally would trying to determine how quickly the creature will respond. At other times he tries pushing the bounds of probability in small ways. He knows the longer he's in this Shadow and the more he excerts his will upon this place he might be able to usurp control.

Everytime Landon has a run in with the creature it is another oppurtunity to study his adversary. The creature is strong and relies upon it's ability to be unseen, however, if it was supposed to kill him it would have done so already. Knowing this Landon can tan it's measure.

[Wired*Nun]

Over the next few weeks, Landon discovers that his captor is not always there. Sometimes it punishes him for transgressions, sometimes not. When it is there, it is cruel, sadistic, taunting.

The desirable items - better food, bedding, etc. - are always protected with some kind of pain-spell or field. There are further caves behind the one with the goodies in it, but there doesn't seem to be anything there. The other chamber seems to be the entrance to the outside, a large cave with a pool of water from a tiny trickl down from above, and an opening in the ceiling, now sealed with a boulder on top of it.

While it is possible to bring the Pattern to mind, Landon's experiments with sorcery all fail. It is as if there is no magic in this shadow, or it is disallowed.

The food is barely adequate, and both Landon and Arthur lose weight. His clothes become filthy, and it is hardly worth risking a beating to try to wash them in the pool. The periods he spends nursing bruises become almost routine. His captor appears to relish his tasks.

After some time, Landon begins to hallucinate. Though Arthur can't smell anything in the food or water, Landon suspects he is being drugged, or perhaps it is a spell cast on him. He loses all track of time and begins spiraling down into a kind of pleasant madness.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon settles down into routine and after awhile allows the hallucinations to become more real than his current situation. He alternates between living in happier times during his foray into Shadow and being plagued by ghosts of family that he suspects put him here. At the height of his madness he sees Gray, Heldrik, and Arrotel in visions that range from them rescuing him to Gray being the invisible captor, to the three of them coming to devour him. The worst dreams, however, are those that concern Eric and Flora as they battle each other to see which will be able to "use" him as their tool.

At times it is all that Arthur can do to force water and food down Landon's throat. In his more lucid times he brings up Pattern Defense to lessen the stings of the captors blows. He tries mentally walking the Pattern Lens that he brings up to ward off his madness knowing that if he's going to get out of here he needs to keep his wits about him. In his less lucid moments he couldn't care less.

[Wired*Nun]

The dreams and hallucinations take on another character after a while, though Landon is slow to recognize it. There is a voice, a gentle, brotherly voice, that comforts him, telling him that everything will work out all right, ingratiating itself into his consciousness. This alternates with the cruel, punishing voice and pain. The kind voice sometimes comes to him, in the form of a man - Eric? coming to tend his wounds, to feed him hot broth, giving meaty bones to Arthur, who is a skeleton of his former health.

Interestingly, nothing Landon has has been taken. He fingers the ring from time to time contemplating using it, but discards the idea every time. Only one use, and what if it doesn't work? The Trumps never work...

[TreyKincaide]

Landon during one of his more lucid moments thinks.

They're making me a prisoner in my own mind. I can't tell what's real and what's not anymore. The visions as terrible, as they can be, are at least better than here wherever here is. Is the soothing voice real? Is he one of my captors invoking Stockholm's Syndrome? Why are they holding me? I have nothing of value as far as I'm aware. Is it one of the team that is responsible? Heldrik perhaps in a petty attempt to lead? Gray inflicting her madness upon me to ensure that I join her in deliria? Quiet Arrotel that comes across as so young and inexperienced? I don't know. The ring. Should it work would anyone answer my distress? No, I would rather die in this pit than allow one of my hated family to rescue me. I will not be saved like a child. If only Arthur didn't have to suffer along side. We're dying if we're not already dead. If there is a Hell I most certainly am already there.

Landon tries to maintain hope--a mistake that is made, some trick that he can use, anything aside from someone rescuing him like a wretch--that he'll escape his prison. That is the worst part, of course. That hope that plagues him rides on his back with far greater weight than any hallucination.

[Wired*Nun]

Landon's latest vision is different from the ones before. In this one, Eric picks him up and takes him away, leaving Arthur wailing forlornly behind. Landon is dumped into a hot, sweet bath, stripped and scrubbed by strange, small imps or homonculi. Any resistance is met with giggles and dodges by the quick little creatures. If this is a dream, it's not a bad one, really... Landon looks down at himself, sees his bones showing through stretched skin. Must have lost fifty pounds, and I wasn't meaty to begin with. Malnourished, too. Giddy laughter threatens to break from him as he realizes it won't matter, he will soon find himself back in the hole.

After the bath, he is dressed in clean clothing, and fed on soup, all the nourishing broth he can stomach. It starts to dawn on him that this might not be a vision at all. Are they giving me hope, that I may suffer more later? Is this some yearly ritual, as Corwin endured in his captivity? At least I have my sight...

A great weariness takes him then, and he falls asleep on the table. Drugged? Who cares...is his last thought, as consciousness fades.

Hours - days? later, he wakes up with a start. His mind is clear, and he is very thristy. Water sits by the bedside - but what if it's drugged? They probably won't drug the washing-water... he heads for the lavatory, and after relieving himself mightily, drinks deeply from the faucet. Looking in the mirror, he sees that his hair and beard have grown out, black as night. I look like...look like... he can't remember. Somebody...

Still in the clothes from before, he nevertheless feels far cleaner than he has in a long time, and so, sets to examining his new prison.

He is in a room of polished blue marble or obsidian, floor, ceiling, walls. There are no windows, and only one door, which is locked. His Trumps still do not function, nor does his sorcery. Pattern can be brought to mind, but has no effect, small or large, that Landon can see.

It is not long after he has made these experimentations that the door opens, suddenly, abruptly. Standing before him, large as life, is his uncle, Eric, prince, nee` King in Amber. With a jolt and a pounding heart, Landon realizes who he looks like.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon's heart catches in his chest. His temples throb and his mind races. Caught somewhat dumbstruck it is all that he can do but stare.

Do I dare accept the reality that I'm presented? If I do accept it, is this dead man that stands before me remarkably preserved responsible for my captivity? Is he whom he appears, a shade of my doubts come to haunt me, or more tricks of my captors? Where's Arthur?

Best to go a long with it and see where this phantom takes me.

A seed of doubt that Landon begins to grow that he attempts to ignore.

Are you my father?

[Wired*Nun]

More thoughts race through Landon's head...An even more interesting question...is Flora actually still my mother...just because Eric...just because they were brother and sister...I mean, there was Corwin and Dierdre, Julian and Fiona, Delwin and Sand, rumors of frowned-upon matches...

The man standing before him waits, as if knowing Landon needs time to absorb the difference.

Landon sees the man has a plate in his hand - bread, cheese, meat. He puts it on a table, and Landon realizes that he is ravenously hungry. "Go ahead, eat. It's unadulterated. You must be awake for what you will do."

After Landon eats his fill, he speaks. "Come, Landon, there are things I must show you."

Turning, striding down the hall, the broad back of - Eric? - leads Landon onward, down a long blue hall with many doors. Stopping before one of them, seemingly no different from any other, Eric takes a key from around his neck and unlocks the door, then puts the key back. He looks back at Landon for a moment

Opening the door, he steps through, entering a shimmering trumplike curtain.

[TreyKincaide]

For what I will do? Well, I've never had a hallucination make sense in the past; why start now?

Landon pauses before the door.

I feel like Alice. I would know what's on the other side of the looking glass. This is the part of the dream where I either stay here or delve deeper into madness. Well, anywhere is better than the pit where I was. I wonder why I eyes aren't sensitive to light? After being in the dark for so long I should be near blind. Another indication that this is a wishful dream, I suppose. Oh well. Into the breach.

Landon steels himself and steps forward through the door fully expecting the hallucination to end and to discover himself trapped once again in the cave.

[Wired*Nun]

On the other side, Landon finds himself in a garden with delightful breezes and sweet sweet scents. The man who led him here is nowhere in sight, but someone else is. The profile is unmistakable, in a wispy dress, leaning on a railing overlooking a small lake.

Flora...Mother? No....yes? I don't know any more...

Smiling her warmest smile, - just for me - she welcomes him with a more-than-motherly embrace, a kiss on the cheek, and a murmur in his ear. "Welcome to paradise, Landon." Leaning back, she looks at him sweetly, gently - and Landon is aware of the press of her body against his, from the waist down. His loins and heart respond involuntarily. I - I - can't want her, always wanted her, can't want her, this can't be happening... Forbidden desires crash through him like a tsunami, and he can feel his resistance, - oh, so weak - crumbling...

[TreyKincaide]

Landon feels his resistance giving way and his pulse rises as his unhealthier passions threaten to overwhelm him. He grasps Flora in a tight embrace and just as he's about to caress her lips with his own he pauses. The small cynical, if worse, part of himself speaks out from the far end of his mind somehow breaking through the fog of his libido.

This is not real. Flora would not be above using me in this manner. In fact, I'm sure she takes pleasure in the knowledge that I hate myself for wanting her spurring her to further inappropriateness, but for now there's nothing that she could gain by this exchange. This place. This situation. This is a fantasy that's too good to be true. This is not real.

In one last attempt to hold on by a fingernail to his sanity, Landon stops just a hair away from the figure's inviting lips and whispers, "You're not Flora. This is not real."

[Wired*Nun]

She preses her lips to his, hot tongue in his mouth, and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be, and I can be, over and over, if you want me. Please, want me!"

[TreyKincaide]

Landon becomes rigid his suspicions confirmed, and his visage hardens in anger.

Flora would never say "Please, want me!" She would never have to.

Landon graps her shoulders trying to push her away.

"Who are you, and what is your game?"

A hallucination or a trick. This is not real.

[Wired*Nun]

[he's already rigid, haha. I rather thought he might go ahead and enjoy the hallucination while he had the chance]

She melts in his hands, and blows away like wisps of smoke.

Behind him, he hears the voice again. "Good, Landon. You are as strong as I had hoped. Before you master those around you, you must master yourself. Hopefully you will be strong enough for the task I will set you."

[TreyKincaide]

[He certainly considered it, but Landon's off his game. The illussion was shattered and once that was certain any desire disappeared. If at some point he had really wanted to Landon would have been able to bed down one of Flora's shadows, but it isn't the same]

Landon regains his poise before he turns around. He shifts to face the phantom and locks gazes, but says nothing.

I have played this game before. You approval means very little especially if you are but a fever dream.

Landon tells himself to be wary, but somewhere deep down he finds himself pleased by the praise. He tries to bury it in anger, but doesn't completely succeed.

He keeps speaking of a task. What task can a dead man set before me?

[Wired*Nun]

"You are wondering what the task is, I am sure. All this will become clear in due time. First, you must be toughened further. All your life you have had privilege and ease, with nothing harder than the Pattern to challenge you. You have avoided the hard choices, bedded easy women, made no commitments - in short, you have acted like a spoiled adolescent." Eric turns, sighs. "Not surprising, with Flora for a mother."

The garden shifts, changes, becomes a gladiatorial pit, hot under a desert sun, white marble amphitheatere surrounding. An audience yells appreciatively at the two men, and Eric takes off his shirt, flexing his muscles, tosses his blade aside. He crouches, and begins circling Landon slowly, hands in front of him. "Defend yourself, son."

[TreyKincaide]

Implying that I'm inbred will not cause me to quake and tremble. Perhaps this is not a dream, but the possibility of trickery is still too strong to ignore. I do not know how long I was comatose and what secrets were ripped from my skull. Is this a test or more torture?

Landon likewise takes off his shirt and stoops to a fighting position. He puts his hands out in front of himself and bends at the knees to have a superior center of gravity.

I'm starved, half dead, and at least 40 pounds shy of my prime. I can't weigh more than 110-120 at the moment. The scenery, are we in a new shadow? Can't tell. Regardless, sorcery is all but useless. Sorcery is but one of my many tricks. I can't beat this 'Eric,' but I sure can give for what I take.

Landon begins mimiccing Eric's movements. He'll fight as dirty as he can and try to use the arena to his benefit. He'll try to gouge at the eyes, knee to the groin, kicking in his opponent's knees and throw sand/dirt in his opponent's face. After being beaten for so long with neither respite nor promise of reprisal he'll gladly allow Eric to be the target of his hatred. He'll take punches to get some in of his own. He'll attempt to retain his calm throughout.

Landon knows that he can't win, but he'll try to match pain for pain.

[Wired*Nun]

Unfortunately, Landon is correct about being far out of shape for this kind of thing. After only a few minutes, he lies, battered and dirty, on the floor of the pit. Six stone of weight advantage, plus skill, make it no contest. Yet, Eric did not hurt him, or punish him, only beat him, and perhaps, gently at that.

Putting back on his clothes and blade, Eric says, "Come, let's get some rest."

Landon follows out of the arena, and into a Romanesque bath house, where young boys bring soaps and towels, shampoo and combs. No one remarks on the many obvious discontinuities in technology and theme - this looks more like Caesars in Las Vegas than Rome. A sumptuous banquet is set, and the servant boys rush to bring the men food while they bathe. Eric stays silent, fending off any questions with, "Later, when you are stronger." Massages come next. Afterwards, Landon is shown to a room with a clean bed, where he falls into exhausted sleep.

The next day is much the same - an endless, gruelling session of hand-to-hand combat. Regular breaks for water and relief are the only respite, and Landon's sleep each night is deep and long. He gains weight quickly; in perhaps two weeks he is back up near his normal weight, and strengthening. His pain tolerance is much higher, as well, and he improves by leaps and bounds under Eric's tutelage. He no longer thinks of him as anyone else - if he's not Eric, he might as well be, for the nonce.

For diversion, there is a library in the complex. Landon rarely has time to do more than work out and eat, but the library contains classics from a double dozen worlds, including holy books, literature, and history. Nothing of great relevance to his present situation is to be learned, but it rounds out his education, and keeps him from being bored.

There is also a selection of young but full-grown women, who seem to be there as companions. One in particular, Helena, seems to have developed a fondness for Landon, and engages him in conversation whenever she can, and takes to doing whatever he allows her to do for him. She makes it clear she is available for whatever he wants, up to and including her self. She seems sincere, and under no compulsion - but that's how Shadows are, and any Amberite could create a place like this...

After a month or so, the work changes to weapons - staffs first, then spear and blades. Archery, shield work, knives, firearms - everything Landon can think of, has been thought of here. Eric is always careful to avoid giving Landon more than the smallest of opportunities to turn on him.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon finds that he comes to enjoy his daily routine and comes to looking forward to his time that he spends with Eric. He lays aside his doubts for the time being and concentrates on benefitting from training. As much as he wants to question, Eric, he leaves off expecting Eric to divulge in his own time.

Every morning Landon gets up and stares at himself in the mirror-I'm in the best shape of my life-noticing small differences that are emerging. The novelty of having a beard amuses Landon and he trims it down to a stylish goatee. Sometimes he stares at the beard and remembers his imprisonment. He makes a vow to himself at these times to never forgive nor forget. He wonders about Arthur, and hopes that someday he'll be able to rescue his friend.

After a bit of hesitation, Landon's libido gets the best of him. One late night he takes Helena in the bath house. Thereafter his nights tend to be as busy as his days. He finds that he grows fond of her company and, to his surprise, their conversations are as pleasant as their "extra-curricular" activities.

Landon finds himself becoming happy and content for the first time since leaving Landon, Englund. Small doubts intrude from time to time, but occur so less frequently.

[Wired*Nun]

Psychic exercises are next. Though none involve sorcery, Eric engages Landon in daily psychic combat, exercises of bringing up the Pattern, using it for defense and attack against mystical targets.

All of these exercises are grueling as well, and Landon knows his endurance has increased along with his skills. throughout, Helena has been a steady support, a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on, someone to vent to when the frustration and rage threaten to overcome him, someone to hold him close when he wakes up sweating from the bad dreams...fewer and fewer, now. Though not someone who would normally catch his eye, Helena's turned-up nose, brown hair, brown eyes and cafe-au-lait complexion have changed his opinion completely about his taste in women...or maybe, it's just Helena.

Months pass this way, until one day that seems different from all the rest. First of all, Eric doesn't show up at his usual time. As Helena cleans up breakfast, and Landon looks out the door of their cottage, he realizes that at last, his mind is clear, his thoughts are free, and he is at peace with himself, more than he has ever been before. Maybe the road to Heaven really does lead through Hell.

Helena tugs on Landon's elbow, and he allows himself to be turned around and kissed, and drawn back to the breakfast table.

Helena seems to glow a bit brighter today, and she looks at him, as if trying to figure out how to say something.

"Landon...Landon, have you every thought about..well, making this arrangement permanent? You know I love you...and though you never said so, I think you love me too...maybe enough?"

[TreyKincaide]

Landon goes to respond and stops looking deep into her eyes.

I am happy here. Why not settle down? This is a paradise that I might never have again. No suffering. No wanting. No paranoia. No worrying. No fear. No family.

Responsibility. Duty. How important are these things really? I've did nought until now but pay them lipservice. Amber. Like it or not I am a son of that place. Arthur. I haven't thought of him in months. Will I stay here or venture out and do those things that I need to do?

Would I expose Helena to those things that are now beyond her ken and in doing so change her forever? No. I also can't leave her to wait on me. I do care about her, and that's the problem. One day I will leave and she'll wait maybe until she dies. No. I can't do that. I will not string her along either. I suppose that in time even Eden can grow sour.

Landon for the first time finds himself grasping for words, "It is true that I have grown fond of you and our time together. I am a guest in this place at the lord's convenience. In time he will gift me a task as price for his hospitality, and I'll leave perhaps never to return. I fain think of you saving yourself in hope of something that might never be. Would that I bring you with me there would be nought but peril. It would entail you leaving behind everything that you have ever known and, perhaps in doing so, turn the sweetness you have towards me sour."

"I have grown to care for you too deeply to allow you to endanger yourself on my behalf. I would not string you on either. I have treasured the time we have had together. I would treasure any more time we have together more than you can know, but, dear, nothing is permanent and someday I must go. If this turns your feelings towards me ill, then so be it and I will fondly hold on to your memories."

Landon's thoughts turn to the stories of Corwin and Lorraine. He feels eerily sympathic to his father's one time hated enemy. His thoughts turn to his friend, Merlin, and he wonders how his friend is faring in the courts.

[Wired*Nun]

Expected tears fill her eyes. "I do not care what you do or where you go. Men always go off to war, to return home with their shield, or upon it. I know you are a warrior, Landon, and I know that the King has great plans for you. That changes nothing. Whither thou goest, will I also go, and whither thou lodge, will I also lodge, and thy people shall be my people, and thy gods, my gods. If you leave me, I will always wait for you. I am yours, whether you want me or not." She takes his hands in both of hers.

"Does it change your mind, that I tell you I carry your child within me?"

[TreyKincaide]

Landon grasps Helena's hands tightly.

"I'm sorry my love. I have been unkind, but I had to know that you were prepared for what you were asking. I had to know that you were sincere in your affections as I've been courted in the past for my position."

Landon, still holding Helena's hands, slides from his chair and takes a knee as custom from his home Shadow Earth oh so long ago. "Helena, I can not promise you that we will live a life of ease. I can not promise you that life will be kind to our child. I can promise, however, to love and cherish you as long as we both walk this long dreary road we call life. I can promise you that our son or daughter will have a name and in that name be great."

"Helena will you join your blood with mine becoming one. Should life around us wither, will you join me forever more in that paradise that we create?"

Landon waits for Helena to say yes and the stands. With a smile pulls her out of her seat and twirls her around repeating in a whisper, "I'm going to be a father."

A small meek and overhelmed voice in the back of Landon's head sighs Oh boy...

[Wired*Nun]

A breathless "I will" is all the reply Helena needs give, and the rest of their day is filled with joy and ease. How much does he know, and how much does he arrange? I hope I'm not still living in my own head, my body in the filth...

The next day brings another improvement - Reward? Am I so easily bent? As Eric enters the garden gate, an enormous bounding mass of Wolfhound, seemingly all tongue and paws, nearly bowls Landon over. "Happy happy happy to see you Landon happy happy happy" is all he seems to be able to say for a few moments. Of course, all Helena hears is excited barking and wuffing, and stands, somewhat in trepidation of the dog that nearly outweighs Landon himself.

"You look different," is the next intelligible thing Arthur says, after he has calmed down somewhat. "You have a mate!" is the third.

[TreyKincaide]

To ease Helena Landon picks Arthur up inspite of his size and cradles the dog as one would a babe and scrathes his belly.

"I've missed you, Arthur. You have never been far from my thoughts. Yes, I am different. My old clothes or rags, if you would, were discarded and I've kept the beard and my natural hair color. Yes, I have a mate. She seems to be a bit intimidated by your size good friend. Perhaps proper introductions are in order."

Landon sets Arthur on the ground and scratches his ears with one hand. With the other he takes Helena by the hand and draws it towards Arthur's nose so he can sniff her and lick her hand.

"Helena, may I have the honor of introducing to you my steadfast friend, Arthur, who has been with me since I was a young lad."

He turns to Helena "He is quite intelligent and understands the human tongue even if he cannot speak it. I have been with him so long that I understand him. I assure you that he is as gentle as a babe and an individual of higher character than most people that I've had the misfortunate of knowing. Indeed, on many occasions he has proved to be my conscience in times of doubt."

He turns to Arthur, "Arthur, this Helena, my love, my future wife, and future mother of my child. A more gentle and caring woman you will never meet."

"I should hope that the two of you become fast friends for we will be family."

Landon glances to Eric with a neutral look upon his face neither questioning nor accusing as Helena and Arthur become acquainted.

Are you my captor or my savior? I had once thought I was a player of the game, but I see that I have been but a child in the presence of my elders to be twisted to their will with ease. Regardless of your intentions thank you for this lesson.

[updated COMMS]

[Wired*Nun]

Helena quickly gets over her hesitancy, and scratches Arthur all over the head and neck, making baby-talk noises to him. Despite Landon's explanation, she obviously thinks of him as a pet rather than a friend - but she will learn, in time. For his part, Arthur revels in the attention, turning over on the ground to have his belly rubbed, and frolicking like a puppy.

After a few minutes, Eric motions and announces, "Back to work, Landon." He turns and walks back toward the arena.

When Landon enters the arena with him, the scene lengthens, as if in a dream or movie, and turns into a tunnel of swirling light. The end of the tunnel rushes forward, and the two are expelled, without apparent movement, upon a green grassy sward strongly reminiscent of the gardens at his erstwhile dwellings.

In front of him stands a large ash tree, a flock of ravens sitting in its branches. Beneath the tree stands a bright red convertible, and Eric walks over, opens the passenger door, and motions Landon inside. Assuming he gets inside and sits, Eric's short trip to the drivers side is completely ignored as, having turned around to sit in the car, Landon realizes there are much more important things to be seen in front of him.

Through the windshield, Landon gazes out over a Pattern. Different from any he has ever seen, it shines with ruby light, swirling between pink-veined marble, even under the molten golden sun. Though he is not able to examine it thoroughly, it looks unmarked, unbroken and he can feel its unmistakable power.

Eric switches on the radio, which begins playing "Beach Baby" from the Beach Boys.

"I suppose explanations are now in order," he says drily. "Ask away."

[TreyKincaide]

Landon listens to the refrain of the song as he organizes his thoughts. He's been envisioning this moment since he arrived. Longed for it as a lover longs for his sweetheart's caress. Now that it arrives, Landon finds himself gazing out over the unfamiliar Pattern. His carefully prepared list of questions fogs from his mind. Knowing that no question nor answer can possibly satisfy what he's been through he simply begins with, "Why?"

[Wired*Nun]

A smile. "Because?"

A moment more.

"Dispensing with the obvious, and the past, I need you. The only thing is, the better question is 'who.' Best you discover it yourself, a piece at a time. Spoon-feeding is not nourishing."

"First, bring up your Pattern and look at me, carefully."

Puzzled, Landon does this thing. Eric is swirling with Pattern energy. In fact, it would be fair to say that he is...composed of Pattern energy. Why didn't I see this before? Because I wasn't supposed to. I suppose...

"You see, I am Eric...and I am not. I never knew you even when I was alive, and have only learned about you from arcane sources. I believe Flora hid you from me, perhaps for insurance. In any case, this Pattern...synthesized me, I suppose you could say. So, in a way, I am it, and it is me."

[TreyKincaide]

"I can accept that. Your mastery over Shadow implies such, and it is an easier explanation to deal with than you really being alive. Although, I did not realize that the Pattern had designs, but seeing as Dworkin was so linked with his own, it makes sense."

"So, I would venture a guess that you are an image of Eric imprinted on the Pattern as the Pattern imprints upon us. I do not understand how Flora, hid me from this place or would believe she needed insurance against such. How would it be possible when I have walked the Pattern? Do you know if she is indeed my mother? For that matter how could you be sure I'm Eric's--facial resemblences aside?"

Landon's mutters as he line of thinking changes. "Unless, of course, I have not walked this Pattern for it is no reflection but a singular design much like C-"

Landon was about to say Corwin's, but looks at his company and quickly coughs "Merlin's father's? Then I suppose my next questions would be who inscribed this Pattern and what use would it put me to?"

[Wired*Nun]

Amusement passes over Eric's face for a moment. "Corwin, Corwin, Corwin. Funny thing about that. In resynthesizing me, this Pattern removed all trace of the earlier enmity. I know about it, intellectually, but there is no emotion to it. I suppose that is necessary, for I am, you could say, kind of working for him. My memories are not even my memories, I suppose, though they feel that way to me." The song on the radio ends, and changes to "We've Only Just Begun" by The Carpenters.

An airy wave, and a lit cigarette appears in Eric's hand. After a deep drag, he goes on. "Yes, this is not your father's Pattern, nor your father's '57 Chevy. That's why I'm not your father's Eric, for I am assembled from memories of Eric, many of them Corwin's. I believe you are Eric's because this - Corwin's - Pattern believes you are. Corwin never bought Flora's explanation about her presence on Shadow Earth...that's what led to eventual investigation, and you. Soon after you walked the Pattern in Amber, Dworkin knew you were Eric's...but not Flora's. Hope that doesn't upset your apple cart too much. Maybe you always knew it, deep down. Most men don't lust after their mothers the way you have after her...oh, it's all right, I've felt it too. I'm not a machine."

At the last question he gives a pained smile. "Everyone is here to be used. Freedom is always limited. Before, you were a pawn on the chessboard. You are about to be promoted to Bishop. That's probably the best deal you can expect, right now. If you think about it, are even Dworkin, Merlin, or Corwin more than playing pieces? Powerful ones, to be sure - Kings, Queens - but not Players."

Crushing out the cigarette against the outside of the car door, Eric reaches into the back seat, and brings out a sheathed sword, dropping it into Landon's lap.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon gives a bit of a grin when Eric says that last part regarding Flora and a "Heh."

At least I can stop torturing myself about feelings that aren't quite so dirty. I wonder if deep down, in her own twisted way, she's became fond of the boy she wished for a tool. Regardless of her intentions, though, she all but ruined me and I shall not give her the oppurtunity to do so again even if I don't hold malice against her.

Landon looks down at the sword Eric deposited in his lap and grasps the hilt pulling it slightly out of it's sheath.

"Well, I must admit the potential of moving eight steps to my previous one is attractive. I have never met Corwin, although, I know that Random holds him in high regards. I am quite fond of Merlin, and if even if you hadn't spent the year with me I would be inclined to help him and his father even if my sister" Gray is my sister "bears them ill will."

"Aside from what you would have me do and why, who was responsible for my capture as I'm very intent on that not happening again, and do you have any idea of who my real mother is?"

Landon pauses for a second and looks pensive before grinning.

"I think the only further question is: Got another smoke?"

[Wired*Nun]

He motions toward the glove compartment, where, upon opening it, Landon finds a vintage pack of Camels, and a classic Zippo.

"Hmmph. I'd like to say I rescued you, but I am too honest a ghost for that. I guess in a way I did, but not the way you think."

"You were getting too involved with Maze and would have soon been under its spell, I suspect. One of this Pattern's agents was instructed to get you out of there, and to prepare you for your eventual transformation. Cognitive disruption, I think it is called. Like basic training in the military. Your world had to be upset far enough to make you susceptible to new patterns of thinking, a rebuilding of some basic assumptions about yourself and your capabilities. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't a part of that, I was...created, I supposed you'd say, to be the 'good cop.' You can blame the Pattern, and if you need someone to hate, you can hate the agent, or the agent's demon, if you ever run across him. I don't think I have the capacity to hate, so I wouldn't know, but I don't think you have to worry about that happening again."

He reaches over to take one of the cigarettes, lights it and fills his lungs. "Eric - the original - liked to smoke, so I do too. No cancer worries, either, that's nice. Your real mother...I'm not sure, really. I don't have those memories. Flora might know. I'm sorry I don't know more."

He waves at the sword with the cigarette. "Take it out." When Landon does, he sees tracery of Pattern on the blade, like Heldrik's - but this one is silver, with fine black etched deep in the tracery. "On loan from the boss."

[TreyKincaide]

Holy shit! This is Greyswandir!

Landon's surprise is so evident that he drops his lit cigarette in his lap. "Fuck," he curses as he grabs the cigarette and pats his pants to extinguish the ash.

Whatever they're having me do, it must be damn serious.

"If I was in danger of corruption, does that mean the others have fallen victim? I dislike the thought that they and Siodmak will dog my footsteps. This Maze must be a much more fearsome threat than I was lead to believe."

[Wired*Nun]

"Maze? Well, actually...no, not a fearsome threat. At least, not yet. I think Corwin is still evaluating that one. It seems to be either a threat to neither, or both, ends of the multiverse. It's certainly a mystery Player. Actually, I think you'll be surprised at the task you will be set." A pause, and a piercing look.

"He wants you to erase a Pattern."

[TreyKincaide]

Landon coughs as a much needed drag from the cigarette catches in his throat.

"If it was anyone else, I'd think you were fucking mad or joking. Any particular reason that Corwin's Pattern wants me to commit treason with a capital T?"

[Wired*Nun]

"Yeah." He blows out a cloud of smoke. "Things are sliding into the Pit, just really really slowly. When Corwin drew his Pattern, he upset an equilibrium that has persisted for millenia. That made it two to one, Patterns vs. Logrus, Chaos vs. doubled Order - Serpent vs. an Unicorn on steroids."

"Look what that has spawned. Someone has created, or synthesized, a new Power, which contains aspects of both. Theoretically, that should be a stabilizing force...theoretically. In reality it could be a catastrophe. Someone is meddling with the fate of the universe, someone at present unknown."

"What's more, the Primal Pattern has taken to scheming to absorb its children, the Broken Patterns, to make itself stronger - wiping out entire shadows and populations in the process. To do that, it must repair these Broken Patterns, and to do that, it needs the Jewel. You've heard the tales of how Dworkin sent the Jewel away with Coral. I think you can now see why he did that."

"But the balance still needs to be redressed. Primal and Amber would both see erasing one of its spawn as an attack on itself. What's left?"

[TreyKincaide]

Landon frowns, "You can't possibly be suggesting what you seem to be suggesting? You couldn't have brought me all this way to assist Corwin's Pattern in some half baked form of Euthanasia? If that's the case, I would say that I never would have taken Corwin for the martyr." Landon says sardonically.

Corwin can't want that, can he? It would kill him. I would kill him. Merlin and Random would chase me to the ends of creation with lawful reason.

Perhaps he chose a child of Eric for this very reason. "Here's the chance that your father never got; you're screwed if you do and screwed if you don't." What in the name of the Unicorn's madness is this?

"What else is left? The only other Pattern I know of resides in the Jewel of Judgment."

[Wired*Nun]

"Landon, Landon, Landon. I'm sure if Dworkin thought the Jewel should be destroyed, he would do it, but that would be throwing the baby out with the bath. Nor do I mean this one," gesturing at the Pattern in front of them.

"Those two aren't the immediate problem. It's those damn Broken patterns, out there in shadow. They are the fortresses in an empire of Order - one that is advancing, albeit slowly. They are still being created, spawned. It's affecting the shadows they occur in, spreading too much Order, driving the Chaos back upon itself, which gets weaker and weaker. The process is accelerating."

"He - we - don't want to destroy the empire, just...knock down a few forts. Buy some time. Equalize things a little." Another drag, exhale. "Treat the symptom until we can find a cure."

"Corwin's Pattern is not the same as the Primal. It wasn't born to continuous struggle, or nursed on the prejudices of its patrons and servants. It really is a new place, a new thing, and because it is part Corwin, it is willing to sacrifice ambition for peace. That's what Corwin learned, cursing and killing Eric, becoming King, an empty office for him."

[TreyKincaide]

I need to start looking at the forest and not the trees if I'm going to get anywhere from now on.

"So you're proposing to start a break fire in order to slow down the Pattern's advance until something more permanent is decided." Landon says pensively. "How complete must be the Pattern(s) that you want me to destroy as I assume the idea is to choke off its shadows as well? Any thing too close to Amber will result in immediate response and retribution, but any too far away will do nothing but alert the Pattern to my actions and force it to seize more with fervor. What exactly did you have in mind, and what defenses will this Broken Pattern bring to bear were I to do this thing?"

Landon stubs out his cigarette and resists the urge for another.

A stalling tactic. Do they have a greater plan in mind or is Corwin still "studying" the problem like the Maze? I think that at least in that regards they've traded-for nothing is free-what they will on that matter. They'll tell me what they need to so that I can accomplish their task. They could have lied about my imprisonment, but they did not.

It always comes down to Blood, I suppose. Blood shed willfully or unwillfully. The old Landon would go about this task in a different way, I'd imagine. He'd go and trick someone into doing it for him or force them when that failed. Have I changed so much or am I decieving myself? Time will tell, I suppose. When this is done, though, I think it's time for me to decide what kind of man I want to be and not what others think I should be.

[Wired*Nun]

Eric turns toward Landon and grips his knee, smiling. "Good! You're thinking now, son. That's what we need if we're to keep this thing from falling apart."

"Now you begin to see why we need you. Well, to be frank, we need someone, and you turned out to be him. Someone has to erase the Pattern while others hold its reactions - and perhaps the reactions of the Primal - at bay. Corwin's Pattern can help, of course, but it's its children we will be killing, at least at first. This first one will be an easy one. A dry run, a rehearsal for more difficult things to come. We will have the Jewel, and Corwin, and this Pattern, and perhaps others. And you. You'll have to actually do it. It takes someone of the Blood, and that leaves Coral, Corwin, and you. It can't be her, and it won't be him - he's too connected, too important."

[TreyKincaide]

"Too humble." Landon finishes with a grin.

It's children at first it said. Hmmmm...ambition in favor of peace. How ambitious for peace is this Pattern? Where will their design end?

"I find the merit and see the need in what you're proposing. Corwin has exposed himself enough simply by loaning me Grayswandir as I doubt anyone would believe that I took it by force. I'm sure that his energies are best placed keeping the Pattern at bay and that his actions will be felt if not seen."

"After this dry run, my life will be increasingly difficult. Even should you be able to hold it's direct attentions at bay, sooner or later it will begin sending it's agents and family after me as this plan continues and I'll have to stay one step ahead. Indeed returning to Amber would be a piss poor idea. I wouldn't be family if I didn't ask, aside from patriotism--no small thing, what's in it for me to do this dirty deed and become an exile?"

[Wired*Nun]

A look composed of surprise, respect and amusement comes over Eric. "You were always an exile. And, these things tend to blow over, if you let them. Corwin and Bleys butchered thousands of Amberites in a bid for the throne, and indirectly caused the original Eric's death. Rinaldo killed Caine. Brand stabbed Martin and damaged the Primal - but he could have been forgiven that, if that's all it had been. Corwin made up with Julian, and then there's the whole thing with Merlin, who got in the middle of that high-level power struggle - and he's King in Chaos. So what if you get exiled, for a while. Random got exiled, got punished, and imprisoned, and that turned out all right. The Family are not pawns of the Pattern, and what is good for the Pattern is not necessarily what's good for Amber - or the rest of reality."

"The family is also not monolithic. Being kept out of Amber proper for a few years or a few dozen isn't the worst thing that can happen to you. After all, you will be risking madness and death erasing a Broken Pattern. You will be in very good with Corwin's Pattern, so you'll have a refuge. I don't see Flora disowning you either. I think she likes you."

[TreyKincaide]

"I think I see what you're getting at. Flora's" Landon coughs "good attentions can be quite troublesome at times, but that is an issue that I'll resolve on my own another day."

"Is there anything else I should know before I set out on this quest? I would see to the well being of Helena and the marriage before I leave. I don't want my child to grow up not knowing me."

[Sorry the on brief reply. Working on a paper that's due in an hour and I needed a break.]

[Wired*Nun]

[No apologies necessary.]

"I can guarantee you that, come what may, Helena and your child will be taken care of. Hell, we both know it's blatant manipulation, but it's honest manipulation, aboveboard and backed up by the full credit of this Pattern. They will thrive, where they are, and eventually, Corwin intends to found a permanent place, a city, something like Amber, but different."

"If you intend to marry her, Corwin will do it. It will be as official as anything else, and more than some. Any desires on the theme?"

[TreyKincaide]

"Nothing too formal, I should hope. I seem to have lost my taste for pompt and circumstance. An exchange of vows with the blessing of the Pattern should be sufficient."

Landon replies.

A new city. Could Corwin destroy Amber if it came to that in the name of peace or balance?

"When shall I depart?"

[Wired*Nun]

"You want to be married first, or afterward? Either way, we need to explain how it will be done. I'll take your question as assent to the attempt, and move on to the next phase."

Eric steps out of the car, and pats the tree under which the Chevy sits, as if in affection. Walking away from the Pattern, he leads Landon down and around a small knoll, revealing a modest stone house by a small river. The river appears to orginate in an artesian well just a little way up the hill.

A woman with an eye-patch is working in a small rose garden, and stands up as they approach. She says nothing, makes no motion, but a moment later, a voice yells, "Coming, mother!"

Apparently it's a little joke, as the man who steps outside, dressed in black pants, a gray work shirt, and black boots. A smile breaks out on his clean-shaven face, and Landon shivers a little as he shakes hands with a legend - at least, for the younger family members. Who's next, Oberon?

Corwin says, "Good to meet you, Landon. I see you've met my conscience." The smile turns into a grin, hard to resist. "This lady is Coral, my sister and, I suppose, eventually to be my niece-in-law. Ain't family wonderful?"

Coral nods solemnly, but her mouth quirks in a slight smile. "Welcome, Landon."

Still holding on to Landon's hand, he asks, "So, what's the verdict? Will you join us in meddling with the universe?" His grip is young, but his gaze is older, and contains much pain.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon grins, "Seems to be the best game in town. Your conscience can be quite persuasive."

Landon nods to Coral, "It is good to meet you milady. I must express my confusion, though. I had last heard that you had married Rinaldo and sat on throne of Kashfa."

He turns back to Corwin, "Yes, family's great. Soon I think it'll just be us with no room for the shadow dwellers. Incidentally, how is Merlin doing? I haven't spoken to him since he began his little adventure and ended up king."

[Wired*Nun]

Coral smiles. "Kind of. Not really. A shadow reigns as queen in Kashfa. The jewel is too valuable - and coveted by many. But I will marry my love, eventually, and reign as queen myself. There is time, time enough for the horse to sing." Her smile seems to hide a secret.

To Landon's question, Corwin replies, "Merlin's fine. Made a better king than I did, frankly. I keep in touch. He's also the only one in Chaos that knows about our plans - though not in detail. He concurs. Of course, he would, as he sees Chaos realms disappearing inch by inch. There is great pressure upon him by the Houses of Chaos to do something about it. You see, that's another thing - if we don't do something about it, he will have to...and we might have another war on our hands, a much uglier one than last time."

"Let's sit down for a moment." The three Amberites and Eric sit on the front porch, where iced tea and lemonade await. The day is warm, and it is good to be in the shade.

"Let me explain the process. Like all good things, it's simple, but difficult. Someone - you - have to take Grayswandir, erase the Broken Pattern. Just as Merlin repaired one once, but opposite. This will involve walking it, erasing as you go. The sword is the tool of erasure."

"If the Broken Pattern itself resists too much, I will bleed on it. Eric here will represent my Pattern in defending against any Pattern-based threat, especially if the Primal comes to interfere. He and I will also handle anything physical. Coral can take care of the magical, if necessary, and all of us are functionally immune to any Pattern energies, because of the higher initiation. Unfortunately, we can't attune you to the Jewel, because it's a part of Coral right now. And no, we still have no idea how to take it out without possibly killing her." He sips his tea.

"So, you take the naked blade, and start walking, just as if it were a normal Pattern, blade tip touching it, and it should erase. All its power has leaked into the interstices, so this should actually be easy, kind of like pulling up a dead root. Easy is relative, though, and this is still unknown. I might be wrong. So, we've prepared you as well as we can. Do you feel you are ready? Or do you want another day?"

[TreyKincaide]

Didn't realize that they'd actually be coming with me. The Pattern implied that they'd stay behind and work things from afar. I feel a bit better regarding this arrangement.

"I have but one small thing I'd attend to before we go. A small matter really, but one I'd have out of the way in case something unforseen happens."

Landon pauses and glances to Eric. He turns back to Corwin, "Would you do me the honor of overseeing an impromptu wedding ceremony? It would mean much to Helena. Afterwards if you'd allow for a brief, ahem, respite I'll be quite set to depart."

[Wired*Nun]

"Of course. You've earned your happiness, twice over, but time is pressing. Eric can arrange the wedding, I can scare up some guests, I think. I need you focused on what you are doing, so, let's start first thing in the morning."

Corwin gets up and leaves, and Coral says, "I have to go in and change. Wouldn't do to come in my gardening clothes."

Eric rises as well, and motions for Landon to come with him. Back down the tunnel of light they walk, arriving at the Roman town where Helena is waiting in their home.

As Landon tells her of the plans, Eric goes to the garden gate, looking outward. The soon-to-marry couple gradually hear a hubbub outside, and see people milling about in the streets.

"Come on, let's go to a wedding," says Eric.

Landon finds himself and Helena dressed in Victorian London finery, somewhat modified, as Helena would probably have fainted from a real corset. Landon's tuxedo is immaculate, as is Eric's. The people in the street line up and cheer for the happy couple, and a short walk down the Via Rialto brings them to a Church of the Unicorn.

Corwin and Coral are waiting, along with two people that are clearly not local shadow-dwellers. One strongly resembles Merlin, and another - is Merlin himself. A handclasp and some backslapping accompany their meeting. "Landon, this is my brother Jurt - kind of. He's a Logrus ghost, but he hangs out here, because the Logrus isn't really happy with him right now. If you don't understand that, don't worry, I don't really either. Good to see you again, my friend." A ring like a tiny crown with points rests upon his right ring finger, a ruby circlet upon his left.

The ceremony is short, and sweet. Helena is radiant, the happiest person in the world, and Landon, perhaps the second, the wedding almost crowding out his thoughts of the difficult task ahead of him.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon warmly greets his friend and his pseudo brother, "Nice to meet you Jurt." Landon glances to Eric and then back to Merlin, "I kinda get what you mean. Good to see you too. It's been too long. Perhaps in the not so distant future I might drop by to catch up if you think that can be arranged."

Landon allows himself to enjoy the ceremony. Moreso, he enjoys that Helena's having the time of her life. When things come to a close, it's with some reluctance that he thanks his guests and says his goodbyes before going off with Helena for an evening of pleasure.

[Wired*Nun]

The next morning, after Helena wakes Landon up in the best way possible, Eric is there again. He dosn't say anything, just waits at the garden gate.

When Landon comes, he leads them back through the tunnel, to find Corwin and Coral in full kit, armed and armored in chainmail. Corwin tosses a fine shirt to him, with a light arming doublet. "Probably all you should wear, as you won't want to be weighed down in your Walk." Next, he hands Landon set of boots, with grippy rubber soles. "You will need them, put them on."

He sets a well-used silver helm upon his head, and Coral, a cap of steel. Eric seems unarmed and unarmored - but then again, he's not exactly human...

After he puts on the chain, Corwin hands him Grayswandir, removing the scabbard as he does so. Naked blade in his hand, Landon awaits what will come.

Corwin nods at Eric, and the scene around them changes instantly. They stand upon wet rock, inside an enormous cavern. A pool of seawater burbles a quarter way around, but the Pattern takes up most of the space inside.

Correction. Broken Pattern. There is only one break in the line, near the middle. Almost complete...childs play to finish it, I imagine, and strengthen the Pattern further...which I would have thought was the right thing, just a short - well, long - time ago...

Taking positions near the beginning, Corwin says, "Here it is..the nearest and most complete of my Pattern's reflections. If I finished this one, I would have a site for my 'Amber,' by Rome, my Paris...I believe this is what Dworkin did, originally. He repaired three Broken Patterns to make Amber, Rebma and Tir-na N'ogth, bulwarks against any assault on the Primal, and nearly as powerful, wholly subjugated to the Primal's will."

"Get it started, get it over with."

Landon can see that, despite his decision and earlier calm demeanor, Corwin is conflicted about this act now that it is actually time to do it. All the more reason to admire someone - integrity.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon prepares himself for the arduous task at hand. A determine look rests on his face as he glances at his three conspirators.

This Pattern is not of my blood, but I have the primal's blessing. Corwin's giving up much for this task, but there must be other near perfect reflections.

Without giving himself more time to think, Landon steels himself and hastily--almost running--makes his way to the starting point. He raises the sword blade to his lips and prays that it serves him as well as it has its master in the past before resting the tip on the ground in front of him. He builds up speed and grits his teeth as the sword touches the Pattern and his foot begins to do likewise.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon slows his pace as suggested. He pauses briefly and sizes up the new arrivals.

So much for a walk in the park.

He grins and says, "Welcome to the party," before turning away and getting back to the business at hand. He takes a step further and sets upon the Pattern.

They'll have to deal with it. I'm sure that my friends are up to the task. I have other things to concentrate on.

[TreyKincaide]

Well, crap. I didn't think this would turn out well. Can't think of that now. Must concentrate. I hate walking this damn thing.

Landon does his best to assay the Pattern and tries to ignore what's happening around him until forced otherwise.

[TreyKincaide]

It's working. By the Unicorn's grace, it's working. I'll be coming into the first turn soon. Keep going. Don't stop. One foot after another.

Landon struggles on conscious of the vortex above his head. As he nears the first turn, he hits the wall that he know's is coming. He jaws clench together as he remembers bits of his childhood with Flora and Arthur and tries to push through.

[TreyKincaide]

Landon rounds the first great curve and wipes the sweat dripping into his eyes from his brow away with his free hand as the current lessens. He glances quickly around the room to try to take stock of his compatriots while continuing to traverse the design.

This stanger must be a powerful sorceror indeed. I bet Merlin could take him, though. I seem to be well protected for the moment. I think I recall something about Grayswandir being able to cut spells in twain should it come to that. It would mean stopping and lifting the blade. My only hope is to last long enough to get to the center. The sooner this distraction is resolved, the better.

If Landon gets the opportunity and a clear shot he'll take a dagger secreted up his sleeve and throw it at the interloper (Rebis). He has little confidence that it'll do anything more than provide a distraction for one of his compratriots to exploit. He'll continue walking.

[Wired*Nun]

[Hasn't really made it that far yet.]

[Wired*Nun]

Landon's going to lay there stunned in the water until someone comes to check on him. He'll awake uttering a string of curses after coughing the water from his lungs. He looks around to see how of much of the Pattern's left and wonders how he survived. He brings up his Pattern Lens to view what the changes have done.

The sword prevented me from ever touching the Pattern. That's why I'm alive.

Landon's attention shifts to his companions and the interloper.

[Wired*Nun]

I have to look up and find the bits that should fit in here - no time now.