Continued from S3-5-9: The Cost of Blood. Syn, Rynard, Nykira and Nadjana stood on the crest of a hill overlooking the Abbey of the Cleansing Flame, and watched the futile battle to douse the sorcerous flames that could only be put out once their spell’s duration had expired. When the last of the spells died, and the Monks and Knights were gathered in nice tight clusters, Syn’s eyes blazed with cold, blue hellfire again and a new group of flaming disks erupted; each centered on one of those clusters of men! Rynard and Nykira turned from the carnage as the screams of the burning men echoes through the hills, and even Nadjana looked away, but Syn continued to direct the deadly conflagration to yield the greatest harm possible until the spells elapsed. “Now you know the true meaning of a “cleansing flame”,” he said in a chilling tone which reminded them of his inhuman nature, and that the wraith of a Dragon Lord was a horrid thing to behold, even when directed at your enemies. They rode through the rest of the day in near silence. Nykira’s and Nadjana’s bodies healed by a combination of Syn’s spells and potions, and dressed in their cloths and armor recovered before they teleported out of the burning Abbey, but still exhausted by their ordeal. They stopped when the waning sunlight made continuing too dangerous and made a meager camp with out a fire; since there was little to burn and visions of what had happened earlier haunted them all, except for Syn. Nadjana settled down and surrendered to sleep almost instantly, with Rynard close behind her, but despite her exhaustion Nykira laid awake, watching Syn as he stood guard over the camp. “You should be asleep,” he greeted her as she approached him, his voice soft and almost caring, while he gathered her in his arms and held her tightly. “I don’t think I’ll sleep well for some time,” she replied meekly as she nestled her head against his chest. “I can heal your body with spells and potions,” he confessed, “but some wounds heal slowly… and there is nothing I can do to aid them.” She smiled up at him, surprised by his statement. She knew he felt passion for her, but could he really show compassion? Was it possible that the being who had wrecked such carnage as he had at the Abbey, with out a single sign of mercy or regret, could really care for her in such a human way? “You’re aiding those wounds to heal right now,” she said quietly, as she nestled herself against him. “In ways no spell or potion could ever do.” To be continued on S3-5-11: A Duke's Gratitude. The tenth installment in the fifth book of my Stormbringer characters' adventures. Thanks for looking... Hope you enjoy! Comments and suggestions always welcome and appreciated!