From: jennyann@ix.netcom.com (Jennifer Lyon)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: "Magician" chp4/prt1 (7/31)
Date: 31 May 1995 01:03:35 GMT


The Magician
An X-File Story by
Jennifer Lyon (Jenni10647@aol.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@aol.com)

Disclaimer: The X-Files, and the characters of Fox Mulder and
Dana Scully, and all rights thereto, are the property of FOX
Broadcasting Network. The remainder of this story is the
property of the authors. All comments are welcome.

Authors' note: This story is a small departure from most X-Files
fanfiction. At its heart, it is a fantasy, a slightly deeper trip into
the 'realm' of make-believe. Sit back, relax, suspend your
disbelief, and let us tell you a tale. Enjoy!


Chapter Four - Part One


     Mulder's eyes flew open the second he heard the soft
footsteps, but he remained motionless.  Facing the sunlit
windows as he was, he couldn't see anything.  He turned over as
if in sleep to try to see who was in their room, only to encounter
his slumbering partner, her head now fast against his chest, his
arm around her back and shoulders.  The footsteps left the room
and Mulder relaxed, giving in to temptation.  Promising himself it
would be only for a moment, he buried his face in her silky
auburn hair, breathing in her scent deeply. Then the door opened,
the footsteps returned and again he became alert as their intruder
headed for the other end of the room.
     This was pleasant, thought Scully, wriggling sensuously
and purring a little.   A lovely way to wake up, in the strong arms
of a ma- !  Abruptly, she awoke, and was held in place by a grip
that had suddenly turned to iron.  Carefully, she looked up and
caught the caution in Mulder's eyes.  Barely moving, barely
audible, he placed his lips next to her ear and said, "Scully, we
are not alone."  She almost giggled - he had been saying that for
years.  Then she stiffened as she too heard other noises from the
end of the room.  Obviously, their intruder had abandoned efforts
to not awaken them.  Mulder again caught her eye and
deliberately, he nodded three times.  On the third nod, they sat up
in unison and slid out of the high bed, and started moving
purposefully towards the intruder.
     The elf turned to them and smiled, saying something in
the spoken song that was the language of the Realm in a
surprisingly low pitched musical voice.  Realizing that her words
carried no meaning, she walked over to the refectory table, where
breakfast has been laid, indicating that they should sit and eat.  
Mulder looked at Scully and shrugged.  They walked over to the
table and sat.
     There were baskets of fresh warm breads and a wooden
platter containing unfamiliar but fragrant fruits and something
that looked like cheese.  There were two earthenware bowls
containing some thick, creamy looking liquid, and a large teapot
from which a wonderful aroma was wafting.
     "I know I should probably be more careful about this,
but frankly Scully, I'm too hungry to care."  Mulder had finished
making his selections from the bread basket and had turned his
attention to sampling as many different fruits as possible.  "Any
idea what the white stuff is?"
     "I thought YOU were going to be MY guinea pig,
Mulder."  Scully covered the tip of her spoon with the creamy
substance and cautiously tasted it.  "Ummm.  Kind of like yogurt
but smoother and sweeter and not so tangy.  My opinion might
change once I know where this stuff comes from, but for now I'd
say it was delicious.  How's the fruit?"
     "Good.  Those blue things are pretty sour, but the
orange ones taste a little like apples.  The bread is wonderful, and
I'm just working up the courage to try that cheese.  The tea, by
the way, is incredible - it's like tea and vitamins and Jolt Cola all
wrapped up into one.  I may run a marathon when I'm through
with breakfast."
     "Save your energy, Mulder.  From what Reinald said
last night, you're going to need it for your training.  Come to
think of it, pass the tea down here, please - I think I'm going to
need it, too."
     When the edge was off their hunger, they paid less
attention to the food and more to the third occupant in the room,
who was now in the process of filling the copper tub with
steaming buckets of water.  She was obviously feminine, and tiny,
not more than a meter tall, with gamine features and short curling
dark hair.  She wore a short sleeved tunic and loose pants in an
attractive shade of rose.  Although she was slender, the ease with
which she hoisted the huge buckets of water spoke of strength
unexpected in such a small package.  She half-chanted, half-sang
to herself as she worked, oblivious to Scully and Mulder.  
     She left the side of the tub, and moved to the huge bed.  
>From underneath it, she extracted a kind of narrow platform.  
Standing on the platform, she had no difficulty straighting the
bedclothes, first on one side of the bed, then on the other.  Scully
and Mulder watched her lightning quick movements, fascinated.  
She was done in no time.  Then she was at their sides, trying with
very little success to explain something.   Finally, she went to the
armoire, extracted some items and pushed them into Scully's
arms.  She made a little bowing or bobbing motion, then lightly
took Scully's wrist, pulling it gently.  
     Scully shrugged at Mulder, then allowed herself to be
led to the bathroom, where the servant's gestures made it clear
what she was to do next.  Scully stood with her hand on the door
latch and called down to Mulder.  "I guess I'll be getting washed
and dressed in here, Mulder.  The tub must be yours.  Have fun."
     Suddenly wary, Mulder turned his attention to the
servant, who performed the strange bobbing motion again, and
lightly took his wrist and tugged.  Feeling a little foolish, he
allowed himself to be led across the room by the tiny sprite to the
side of the copper tub.  She smiled and nodded, then grasped the
waistband of his boxers and began pulling downward.  Aghast,  
Mulder brushed away her hands, grabbed the waistband and
pulled up.  "Scully!"  The servant patiently began to explain the
procedure, which of course was lost on Mulder, and again took
the waistband in her hands. There was no mistaking the panic in
his voice this time.  "SCULLY!"
     Scully shot out of the bathroom, pulling her clothes
around her and clutching a pair of suede boots.  "What's going
on, Mulder?"
     Blushing, perspiring, he looked at her, his eyes wide.  
"She wants to take my clothes off!  I think she wants to give me a
bath!"
     After a second's hesitation, Scully started to laugh, and
kept on laughing until tears ran down her cheeks and she fell to
her knees, grasping her abdomen. Finally she regained control,
stopped laughing and wiped her eyes.  She looked up at him, still
giggling a little and said, "I'm sorry, Mulder, really.  I just
couldn't help it.   That's the best offer you've had in months, and
you don't want to take it?  There's no pleasing some people."
     "Scully, you know very well that there's a big difference
between that and - "
     "Yeah, I know."  Scully stood up, and began tucking her
loose white shirt into her leather breeches.  "Okay Mulder, it's up
to you.  It looks like this "assisted bathing" is the accepted thing
in this culture, and you can either go along with it gracefully or
not.  She's just trying to do her job.  I might also point out that as
we're probably going to be here for quite some time, we're going
to have to adapt to a lot of strange things.  You might as well
start now.  In any case,  I'm leaving to find this Aldara person."  
She leaned against the table to pull on her boots.
     "Hey, Scully.  Nice outfit."  He nodded approvingly at
her, his eyes warm.  "Be careful, okay?"
     She returned the warmth in her smile.  "Always,
Mulder."  A second later, she was gone.
     Mulder turned his attention to his tiny servant.   When in
Rome....  He released the waistband of his boxers and spread his
arms wide, abandoning himself to his fate.
                         - - - - -


     Scully had not gone far when she realized that directions
would have been helpful.  Although the corridors of the castle
were considerably more populated now than they had been the
previous night, the language barrier still presented problems.  
Finally, on her fourth attempt she had succeeded in getting her
message across, only to have a helpful troll give her detailed
instructions on how to find Aldara, in a language she could not
comprehend.  She had resigned herself to spending several hours
lost in the corridors of the castle when by chance she stumbled,
literally, over Tarnor.  The little creature turned around to give
the clumsy oaf that fell over him a piece of his mind when he
recognized Scully.  He bobbed, then took her wrist and pulled her
down the hall as fast as her feet could carry her.  When he was
sure that she would continue to follow, he released her wrist, but
did not drop the pace, chattering away.  Scully figured he was
probably giving her hell for being late for Aldara.  
     After countless turns and trips up and down staircases,  
they found themselves in a large courtyard.  Tarnor yelled across
the courtyard to a figure who waved, and started toward them.  
Then he spoke a few more words to Scully, showed his pointed
teeth in what she thought was meant to be a smile, and left.  
Happy to see the little thing doing so well after yesterday's
horrors, she watched him leave, then turned her attention to the
approaching figure.  This was Aldara, the warrior instructor?  
thought Scully.
     The woman coming toward her was just a few inches
shorter than Scully, but had the same elfen features that their
servant had possessed.  Her hair was long, curly and black, and
her eyes were the brightest green Scully had ever seen.  She
could not have weighed eighty pounds, dripping wet.  Now I
know why this place is in so much trouble, thought Scully.  
Aldara advanced, holding her hand out, and Scully grasped it
warmly.  That was the last thing she did before flying through the
air to land in a heap about ten feet away from where she had
started.  
     "What the hell was that for?"  she demanded angrily,
only to be answered with Aldara's tinkling laughter.  
     "Okay, so we're going to play rough."  Scully got to her
feet, her mind going back over every martial arts class she had
ever taken, and dropped to a defensive posture.
      She and Aldara circled each other several times,
parrying and feinting, then Aldara sprang for her throat.  With a
few quick moves, Scully eluded her attack, had Aldara on the
ground and was straddling her, her knuckles drawn back and
ready to deliver a potentially fatal blow.  Aldara nodded, smiled,
and raised her arms in submission.  
     "Funny way you have of saying Hi here," Scully said
coolly, getting up and offering a hand to her opponent.  They
locked eyes for a moment, smiled, and then Aldara took Scully's
hand and hauled herself up off the cobbles of the courtyard.  
They brushed themselves off, and Aldara made a beckoning
motion.  Together they set off across the busy plaza.
     Everywhere stalls were set up, decorated with brilliantly
colored flags and banners and signs, and vendors were singing,
chanting, calling attention to their wares.  This was evidently the
Realm version of the mall, thought Scully.  All sorts of
foodstuffs, cloth, nails and tools, casks of this and barrels of that
were for sale, by more different kinds of beings than Scully could
have ever imagined.  Fascinated by the scene around her, Scully's
eyes were everywhere, but she was careful not to lose track of
Aldara - she would never find her if they were separated in this
crowd.    
     They soon left the colorful marketplace behind, cut
through a stable, and finally arrived at an open area adjacent to a
blacksmith's forge.  Aldara went to a recessed wall protected by
an overhang.  Scully saw that the wall was in effect a weapons
rack.  Aldara looked back at Scully, performed some kind of
calculation, and chose a sword.  Carefully, she affixed leather
guards to both her sword and Scully's, then handed the agent her
weapon.
     Taken completely by surprise by the weight of the
weapon, she nearly dropped it but recovered in time to save
herself that particular embarrassment.  These things never looked
like they were this heavy in the movies. Damn, thought Scully,
this thing has to weigh at least twenty pounds.  Experimentally,
she held the handle in her right hand and tried to raise the six foot
long piece of metal and found it next to impossible.  Aldara came
up behind her, and grasping Scully's hands, placed them properly
on the hilt.  She then helped Scully to raise the sword and swing
it in an arc around their heads.  She dropped her hands, ran over
to pick up her own sword, and motioned for Scully to copy her
movements.  
     For at least two hours, the instructor and her student
swung their weapons at targets and practiced the rudiments of
swordsmanship, stopping only when Scully could scarcely raise
her arms.  As it was, pure Scully stubbornness had been the only
thing stopping her from begging for a rest for the last twenty
minutes or more.  Finally, Aldara indicated that she should sit,
and went into the forge, while Scully collapsed gratefully on a
hay bale.  
     A few minutes later, Aldara emerged with two mugs
brimming with the same kind of tea they had had for breakfast.  
Scully gulped it greedily, and was rewarded by a warm, potent
feeling starting in her stomach and spreading to her limbs.  She
almost groaned, it felt so good.  Aldara chuckled softly and
refilled Scullly's mug from her own.
     When they had finished, Aldara gestured to Scully and
the two women walked back toward the stables.  Aldara
exchanged a few words with the farrier and within a few minutes,
two saddled horses were led up to them.  One of the stableboys
assisted Aldara to mount, then she waited until Scully was also
on her horse.  But these horses were certainly a breed she had
never seen. They were enormous, easily 22 hands high, with a
long, ground-eating stride.   
     The two women walked their horses out into the
sunshine, heading for an open field about a hundred yards away.
Scully had a feeling she was about to regret all those times in
summer camp that she had opted for sailing at the expense of
horseback riding.  Her equestrian skills were sorely tested by a
gentle canter around a fenced-in ring - and somehow Scully felt
that somewhat more than that would be expected of her.  She had
no sooner had the thought than Aldara said something to her, and
kicked her horse into a gallop.  Scully's mount did not wait for
any direction, but took off after its companion, tumbling its rider
off in the process.  
     "Ooooofff!  Shit!"  Scully painfully picked herself up off
the ground, wiggling an arm here, an ankle there to check herself
for any debilitating injuries that would prevent her from having to
get back on that damned beast.  Unfortunately, she found none,
and her mood was not improved by the return of Aldara and the
horses.  Looking at the animal with a jaundiced expression, she
led it over to a fence, which she climbed and then hopped onto
the horse's back from there.  This time, Aldara took it slower,
and Scully felt her confidence starting to return as she proceeded
without incident from walk to trot to canter.
     When Aldara felt she could handle it, after some two
hours of basic horseback riding drills, the lessons began in
earnest.  Aldara would demonstrate some totally hair raising
stunt, like galloping the length of the field without holding the
reins, and Scully was expected to follow suit.  "Easy for her, she's
probably been riding since before she could walk,"  grumbled
Scully.  But she gamely, and at great cost to her physical
wellbeing and her pride, attempted everything Aldara was
showing her.  
     They took a break in the midafternoon.  From the
saddlebags came flasks of the now familiar tea and a couple small
loaves of a dark, sweet bread.  After they had eaten, the two
women looked at each other, smiled and shrugged.  It was
frustrating to have so many questions that went unasked.   Scully
resolved to talk to Reinald tonight to see what could be done to
break down the language barrier.  She was sure she'd pick up the
language sooner or later, but in the meantime the lack of
communication couldn't be doing her training program any good,
and it could even be dangerous.  Finally the two women lay back
and rested for a while, Aldara napping, and Scully just glad to be
off the damned horse.  
     The day was gorgeous - sunny, mild, cool breeze, puffy
pink and white clouds in the bright blue sky.  She gave a passing
thought to Mulder, wondering how he was faring in his magic
lessons, and more than a little resentful that compared to her, he
had it so easy.
                         - - - - -

     "Yeeeeooooow!"  Mulder was hanging upside down in
midair, suspended about five feet above the stone floor. Reinald
cast a look skyward that cursed his fate, then wiggled a finger
and Mulder came crashing to the floor.
     "That is a very good example of what happens when
you don't first center your power and properly tune your shield.  
And if you try to levitate anything without grounding yourself,
you will be what's levitated.  This little exercise is harmless, but if

you don't center and ground your power or adjust your shield, it
could be fatal with many of the other spells."
     "Not precisely harmless, "  grunted Mulder, rubbing his
shoulder.
     "I've never had to teach this before - these are all things
that a Mage child knows before it can crawl.  I can't believe you
haven't killed yourself long before this.  So much power in such
untrained hands - it's unthinkable.  All right - again."
     Mulder picked himself off the stone floor for what
seemed the fiftieth time that day and sighed.  Concentrating, he
closed his eyes and focused his inner energy on a small bottle
which sat on a table across the room.  Pointedly, he mentally
drew down his shield, then willed the bottle to come to him,
slowly this time, slowly, slowly; and then to hang in midair two
feet from him, where he could just open his eyes and  -
     Crash!
     "It appears, Mulder, that I will run out of bottles before
you have grasped the concepts of this lesson."
     In the safety of the corner, Grejor snorted, but quickly
lost his amusement when the icy stares of not one but two Mages
fell upon him.
     Mulder looked at Reinald and said hopefully,  "They're
getting closer to me before they fall - don't I get points for that?"
     Reinald looked at him sourly.  "No."
     Mulder rubbed his eyes and sighed.  "The concentrating
isn't the problem, it's when I open my eyes.  I just get so excited
when I see that I actually levitated something, I lose my train of
thought."
     "I would suggest that you curb your exuberance.  We
don't have the time for it.  You have so much to learn, so much
more than I thought would be necessary.   Now - again."
     Again, determined, Mulder followed the steps.  Center.
Ground. Shield. Concentrate.  He opened his eyes and plucked
the bottle out of the air.  "Easy when you know how," he
murmured, looking in wonder at the little bottle.
     Reinald permitted himself a small smile.  "It appears that
we make progress, Mulder.  Perhaps we shall manage to teach
you what you need to know before you accidentally kill us all.  
Now - again."
     Mulder repeated the exercise flawlessly more than
twenty times, then Reinald began adding different permutations.  
Each change brought with it a few smashed bottles, but
eventually Mulder could make the bottle spin around the room,
move it from one point to another, start and stop it repeatedly
along its path, and move it between himself and Reinald at his
will.
     Reinald nodded approvingly and glided over to the
table.  "We will rest for a short while, Mulder.  Have some tea."
     As Mulder turned, he became aware of something
hurtling towards his head.  Instantly, he dropped to the floor, and
cautiously looked up to see if he could identify the missile.  A cup
sailed overhead and smashed into the wall at the other end of the
room, spattering its contents on a rather nice tapestry and onto
the floor.  Reinald looked down at him and shook his head.  "You
have the powers, now use them. It must become second nature,
Mulder, something that you don't think about, something
effortless or there is no point.  Get up - it seems we have more
work to do."
     It was over an hour later when Reinald finally stopped
the drills and allowed Mulder a break.  He collapsed on a
low stool and massaged his throbbing temples.  Any progress he
had made was at the expense of a terrific headache.  Wordlessly
he accepted the mug of fragrant tea and gulped half of it down.  
Immediately, his head started to feel better, and he was as
refreshed as if he had taken a good long nap.  "When I go back,
this stuff goes with me,"  he declared, only half kidding.
     Reinald's eyes sparkled, but he did not respond to
Mulder's comment.  "You've made some progress today.  Only
practice will reinforce these lessons to the point that using your
powers becomes as natural as breathing.  But I must caution you
- for now, do not attempt any magic unless I am with you.  You
are at an extremely dangerous stage right now.  You know that
you possess power, but you don't know enough about using it.  
I'm quite serious when I tell you that if you made certain errors
right now, you could kill yourself or those around you.  I'm not
sure I would have risked bringing you through the Vortex if I had
known you were untrained."
     "You didn't bring me through the Vortex, it was an
accident."   Suddenly suspicious, Mulder looked at Reinald
directly and saw a slight change in his aura, a slight wavering.  
"Wasn't it?" he demanded.  Could his and Scully's trip through
the Vortex have been manipulated?  Outside, the skies abruptly
clouded over.
     For his part, Reinald could see the increase in the
intensity of Mulder's aura, and was alarmed.  "Strong emotion
must also be avoided right now.  It could bring on" -  a huge
crash of thunder obscured what the magician said.
     "Then suppose you tell me the truth,"  snapped Mulder.
     Reinald looked at the expression on Mulder's face.  "All
right - but first you must ground your energy.  Do it now,
quickly!"  Mulder stared at Reinald as lightning flashed through
the sky.  He took a deep breath, focused his mind on empty
space, and pressed his energy into the stone floor, then exhaled.  
Sun once again streamed through the tall windows of Reinald's
chamber.
     Puzzled, Mulder asked, "Did I do that?"
     "I told you your powers were dangerous and not to be
taken lightly,"  Reinald spat out.  "Yes, you did that.  
Ungrounded strong emotion of any kind can have an effect on the
weather.  Now do you see why it is so critical for you to learn
controls?"
     Mulder shook his head as if to clear it.  "Well, I'm still
waiting - how accidental was our trip through the Vortex?"
     Reinald nodded.  "Sit."  When Mulder had complied, he
continued.  "I didn't pull you through the Vortex, if that's what
you want to know.  I was aware that our communication had a
tendency to weaken you.  The Vortex opened a bit more quickly
than I expected it to, too quickly for you to get out of the way.  
Again, that was unintentional.  I admit, I think I could have
thrown you clear of it. I chose not to, I chose to leave it to the
gods.  Our need is so great and finding you was such a stroke of
incredible good fortune, and I could not bring myself to throw
that away.  But I didn't bring you here.  I just didn't do what I
could to stop you.  More tea?"
     Mulder held out his mug and thought over what Reinald
had said.   He felt the Mage was being honest with him.  He
could accept his reasoning; if the positions were reversed, he'd be
at least tempted to do the same.  But this was something he
probably wouldn't share with Scully, at least not right away.
     Reinald looked at Mulder with some amusement .  "I
sense your wife is not as accepting of your situation as you are."
     Mulder nearly choked on his tea.  "Wife?  Scully's not
my wife.  In our reality, we're partners, we work together."
     Reinald looked confused.  "But the life-bond - "
     Now it was Mulder's turn to look confused.  "What's a
life-bond?"
     Reinald got up and paced the room as he spoke.  "A
life-bond is the closest form of relationship, the highest sort of
commitment.  It is quite rare in our world, even most married
people don't have a life-bond.  Those who are life-bonded are,
almost inevitably, married to each other.  This is very difficult to
explain, because it has, for us, great cultural and spiritual
significance that no language spell can adequately translate."  
Reinald stopped his pacing to concentrate on the best way to
describe the life-bond.  "It is as if the man's and the woman's aura
fit together like a lock and key - a perfect match.  Not only do
the auras fit together, but they can mix with each other, to
achieve true Oneness.  And the two - the man and the woman -
together they are more than two, in their powers, in the depth of
their feelings, in their capabilities.  But alone, each is slightly
less
than a whole person - as if the other is an integral part of the self.

Life-bonds develop over time, but as I said, most people never
achieve a life bond.  It is thought that there are two essential
elements.  First, an aural "predisposition" and secondly a physical
proximity must both be present for the life-bond to develop.  
Most beings do not have the predisposition.  Then, only a tiny
minority of those who have the predisposition ever meet, and
recognize the other that makes them whole.  So it is a very rare
thing.  And in a Mage - unknown."   Reinald observed Mulder
closely.
     Mulder shook his head.  "Scully and I are partners,
we're friends, but that's all.  Besides, if I'm supposed to have all
these powers, how can I also have a life-bond?  And why can't  
magicians have life-bonds?"
     Reinald smiled.  "In our world, magicians don't form
close relationships, usually not even
friendships.  It's thought to be too dangerous.  And no Mage has
ever been born with the predisposition, in any case.  I can't
explain why you do have a life-bond.  I had assumed it was
something common in your world, and permitted to your
magicians.  Apparently I was wrong.  But make no mistake - you
are much more than partners, much more than friends."  Reinald
smiled to himself - these beings were so strange, so unaware.  
"The longer you are in each other's company, the clearer that is
going to be to you.  But in the meantime, if I have inadvertently
created an awkward situation, I will have an additional chamber
prepared for your use."  He reached for the wall cord to summon
a servant.
     "No. No, that won't be necessary.  At least not right
now,"  Mulder murmured, distracted.  He felt like someone had
kicked his legs out from under him.  In a way, Reinald's
information explained so much.  Their incredible effectiveness
whenever they worked as a team.  The feelings that he had for
Scully that he tried to deny even to himself.  The way Scully
looked at him sometimes - yes, Scully would feel the same way!  
His heart leapt with that knowledge.
     But the life-bond was frightening, too.  It meant that
there were things he could no longer deny to himself.  Each
person was not a whole individual - the need for the other was so
fundamental, so basic, that it was built right into the life-bond.
And that thought terrified Mulder.  It explained his feelings when
he thought Scully was dying after her return from her abduction -
his absolute certainty that he could not exist without her.  If
anything,  this new knowledge of the life-bond intensified his fear
of ever losing her.  If what Reinald said about the life-bond was
true, losing her would be losing himself.  He had nearly been
there once and it had come close to destroying him.  If a life-
bond meant the potential for that kind of devastation, Mulder
wanted no part of it.  There had already been more than enough
loss in his life.
     Reinald's eyes narrowed as he watched Mulder, feeling
the unshielded emotions that were almost overwhelming the
young man.  Just to be safe, he cast a brief spell to avoid weather
disturbances for the next few hours until Mulder had had a
chance to come to terms with this.
     "I think you have done enough for today.  You have
much to think about.  I would be pleased if you and Scully could
join me for dinner tonight.  There will be someone here I want
you to meet.  We can decide on your lessons for tomorrow then.  
Get some rest.  And remember - no magic, no strong emotion."
     Absently, Mulder accepted Reinald's invitation.  The
Mage pulled the braided cord and within seconds a servant
appeared to show Mulder back to their chamber.   For the rest of
the afternoon, he stared into the fire in his hearth, thinking.
                         - - - - -

===============================================
Chapter Four - Part 2


     Scully and Aldara faced each other, warily circling, each
armed with two knives.  As the swords had been earlier in the
day, the knives were sheathed.  For Scully, her drills and
exercises with Aldara had now become a matter of pride.  She
had felt all day she was at a disadvantage, coping with learning
totally new skills.  With close hand to hand fighting and martial
arts, she was on surer ground.  For some reason, it was becoming
increasingly important to her to have Aldara's respect.  She
certainly respected Aldara - the woman was incredible.   She was
lightning quick, totally fearless and amazingly accomplished at
everything Scully had seen so far.  She really regretted not being
able to talk to her.  Several times today both women had
automatically started to speak in their respective languages, then
grimaced in frustration and stopped.   Scully hoped Reinald
would be able to do something about this, and more than once
wished that Star Trek's Universal Translators were a reality.
     As they circled each other, the sky became dark without
warning, and a crash of thunder reverberated through the
forested hills.   Aldara jumped and looked fearful as lightning
split the sky.  Scully was not normally afraid of thunderstorms,
but she was in a different world, and the weather certainly
appeared to be making Aldara uneasy.  Just when she was
wondering whether she should take a cue from Aldara and look
for cover, the sky cleared and the sun shone once again.
     Suddenly, Scully had a sense of being elsewhere, then
recognized Reinald's chamber and heard his voice.  She was too
startled at first to pay much attention to what he was saying, but
finally began to listen. He was saying something about how he
might have been able to prevent them from falling throught the
Vortex, but chose not to.   She then felt a thought that it might be
better not to offer this particular piece of information to Scully.  
The vision ended abruptly, and she shook her head to clear it.  
What was going on?
     Meanwhile, Aldara had resumed her aggressor's crouch,
and Scully quickly did the same.  In this exercise, the agent gave
as good as she got, and she noticed some rather surprised
approval on Aldara's face several times.  Both women were
grimy, bruised and perspiring by the time Aldara indicated that
class was out for the day.  Scully walked with her to the castle
and followed her through the corridors, to finish up at a place
which seemed familiar.  Grejor answered Aldara's tentative knock
and reluctantly fetched his master.  Reinald spoke to Aldara for
several minutes.  By the number of times her name came up,
Scully knew that she was the main topic of conversation.   
Reinald finally nodded a dismissal to Aldara, who performed a
kind of salute to Scully and then disappeared down the hall.
     Reinald considered Scully's appearance.  "It looks like
you worked hard today.  I have invited you and Mulder to dinner
here in my chambers.  You will want to freshen up before that."   
He summoned Grejor to find Scully's servant.  When she arrived
scant moments later, Reinald issued instructions to her. then he
turned to Scully.  "Lita will show you back to your chamber and
draw your bath.  She will also call for you and Mulder at the
appropriate time and show you back here for dinner.  Until then."  
He bowed slightly and Grejor opened the door, and Scully had no
choice but to leave, somewhat frustrated.   She had been hoping
for an opportunity to ask some questions, starting with what she
was supposed to wear tonight.  Hopefully, someone had stocked
the armoire with a wardrobe in her size, because she didn't think
either her present outfit or her green nightshirt would be
appropriate.  The way back from Reinald's chamber was starting
to look somewhat familiar, and Scully tried to keep track of the
lefts and rights.
     The journey to their chamber did not seem to take as
long as it had the previous night.  As soon as they got inside, Lita
started transferring hot water from the cauldron on the fire into
the big copper tub.  Scully gingerly lowered herself into the
empty chair next to Mulder's by the hearth.  "And how was your
day?"  she asked, noting his smudged tunic and pants.
     "Oh, you know.  Same old, same old,"  he smiled.  "You
okay?  You look like you've been through the wars."
     "I have, literally,"  she laughed, and gave him a brief
summary of her day.  "I hurt in places I didn't know I had. Aldara
is amazing.  I made the mistake of judging her on her size when I
first met her.  I'll never do that again.  Anyway, if we stay here
long enough, I'll either be in fantastic shape or I'll be dead," she
joked.
     The dark shadow that crossed Mulder's face vanished as
quickly as it had appeared, but not so quickly that Scully didn't
catch it.  "What's up, Mulder?"  she asked softly.
     When he looked over at her, his innocent puppy dog
expression was in place.  "Nothing."
     "Cut the crap, Mulder."
     He shrugged.  "I don't know.  Flashbacks, I guess.
Forget it."  His expression lightened as he changed the subject.  
"Aren't you going to ask me what I learned in school today?"
     She decided not to press the issue, and sighed.  "Okay,
I'll bite - what did you learn in school today?"
     Mulder launched into a hilarious account of the day's
events, but omitted his conversation with Reinald about the
Vortex and the life-bond.  Sooner or later he would have to talk
to Scully about the life-bond, but not yet.  And she definitely
needed more time to become accustomed to the present situation
before discussing Reinald's part in their passing through the
Vortex.  He was all the more startled, then, when Scully said, "So
I understand our trip here wasn't entirely accidental?"
     "What?  Who told you that?"  Mulder said suspiciously.
     "Nobody.  Mulder, it happened again.  For a few
seconds, I was you.  I was there when you and Reinald were
discussing how we got here, and Reinald said that he could have
prevented our falling through the Vortex, but didn't."
     "Might have been able to prevent it,"  he corrected.  
     "Okay, but the fact remains that he could have done
something and he didn't.  I don't like the idea of someone playing
God with my life.  And that includes you, Mulder.  Where do you
get off deciding what information should be passed on to me and
what shouldn't?  I'm a big girl, you know.  I can take it."
     Mulder privately acknowledged that she might have a
point, which made him all the more obstinant.  "What, and you
have no secrets from me, Scully?  I was just trying to do you a
favor.  You seemed so overwhelmed last night, and knowing this
particular piece of information would serve no purpose other
than to get you upset.  I would have told you eventually.  What
else did you hear or see?"  Mulder was really alarmed now.  He
wasn't ready to deal with all the ramifications of the life-bond and
he was certain that she wasn't either, regardless of her insistence
in knowing everything.   He wanted to give her more time to
accept everything else that was happening before getting into the
deeply personal issue of the life-bond, if it even existed.  But if
she had already "seen" it -
     She looked at him suspiciously.  "That's all.  There may
have been more before that, but I really wasn't paying attention
because I was so surprised.  Well, that and the weather.  Did you
hear that freak thunderstorm that came out of nowhere?"
     "Uh - I did that."
     "What?"  Scully's eyes flew open and a look of disbelief
appeared on her face.
     Relieved to change the subject, Mulder said, "Yeah,
apparently any strong emotions that I have that I forget to
ground tend to cause sudden shifts in the weather.  I had gotten
upset when I thought that Reinald might have intentionally drawn
us here.  He didn't - I guess that's the part of the conversation
you heard - but for a few seconds I thought he did and I got mad,
and that's when the thunderstorm happened."
     "I'll have to remember not to piss you off.  What do you
think is causing these visions?  This is the second time, Mulder."
     "Third, actually.  Yesterday, after the soul-eaters
attacked us and you had been bitten - I felt it, Scully, I was you
for a few seconds.  I don't know.  Maybe it's normal in this place
and happens to everyone.  Or maybe it just happens to beings
from our world who travel through the Vortex.  Or maybe this is
ESP that was latent in our world, but something about this place
brings it out.  We might want to keep this to ourselves just for
now.  Oh, Scully, I think our friend is trying to get your
attention."  Mulder grinned wickedly.
     "Her name is Lita.  Evidently, my bath time is in the
evening.  Okay, Mulder, take a hike.  Do we have any clothes, by
the way?"
     "Yeah, the armoire is full of stuff for the both of us for
every occasion.  Reinald said that we'd be meeting someone
special tonight.  Unfortunately, I don't think there's a Mr.
Blackwell around to tell us what to wear."
     "Maybe Lita will set things out.  Anyway - vamoose,
Mulder.  Give me about 25 minutes."
     Actually, he gave her closer to thirty five, having
become lost in the hallways.  By the time he found his way back,
Scully was just about finished dressing.
     "Scully - you're beautiful!"
     She was wearing a form fitting, long sleeved leaf green
tunic made of a heavy satin fabric, shot through with silver
threads, and caught at the waist by a delicate but ornate silver
belt.  Simple sandals were on her feet.  Her hair was up, with
damp tendrils curling around her face.  The torches, now lit for
the approaching darkness, highlighted the translucence of her
skin.
     "Thanks,"  she said, almost shyly. "You'd better get
ready."
     He scooped up the clothes lying on the bed and went
into the bathroom.  He emerged less than ten minutes later.
     "Well, Mulder, I'd say you're starting to get into the
spirit of the place," observed Scully, but the frank admiration in
her gaze belied the coolness of her words.  He always looked
good, but tonight, in these clothes which so complemented his
tall, lean form, his appearance was enough to make her heart
race.
     His outfit was a more formal version of what Scully had
worn earlier in the day.  His loose white shirt was of the finest
linen, with a high tight collar and intricate embroidery down the
full sleeves.  The shirt was worn outside and gathered at the
waist by a heavy leather belt.  Tight suede breeches and high
leather boots completed the outfit.
     Lita fussed over him a bit, making tiny adjustments here
and there, then she nodded and motioned for them to follow her.  
This time, both Mulder and Scully thought they might have
actually been able to find Reinald's quarters unaided.  Grejor
answered their knock and dismissed Lita, then stood back to
allow them to enter.
     Reinald glided forward to greet them.  It was obvious
that he was making every effort to be a charming host.  "Tonight,
the Prince has joined us for dinner.  I was anxious for you to get
to know him.  Oh, and the other individual is his uncle, Drellor,"  
he said dismissively.  "Scully, please have some wine.  I am afraid
I must offer you tea, Mulder.  Magicians should avoid intoxicants
of any kind - too dangerous."
     "That's fine,"   Mulder said.  "But Reinald, how are we
going to communicate with the Prince?  No one but you speaks
our language."
     "I've extended the language spell to cover this room for
tonight.  There should be no problem."
     Scully took a glass of wine from a tray that Grejor was
passing around and turned to Reinald.  "You're going to have to
do better than that, Reinald.  I have to be able to communicate
with Aldara.  It's very inconvenient not to be able to even ask
simple directions.  It's interfering with my lessons.   We need to
be able to speak your language.  Mulder and I are perfectly
willing to learn it the conventional way, but that will take a lot of
time, time that we may not have.  We're here in your Realm,
we're willing to help fight for it.  But we need to know what's
going on, we need to be able to communicate.  What can you
do?"  Her eyes looked directly into his.
     He looked at her equally directly.  "To be truthful, I had
hoped to limit your access somewhat."  In response to Scully's
quick frown, he raised his hands in a placating manner.  "There
are many things about your appearance here which some of our
people would find confusing.  They are simple, and know nothing
of the existence of your world.  They may become easily
frightened."
     Mulder looked at him, caught the slight wavering of the
Mage's aura.  "And there's something else, isn't there?  What is it,
the Prophecy?"
     Reinald sighed and shrugged.  "I'm not used to dealing
with someone I can't shield from.  All right, yes.  Your
appearance and descriptions do seem to be in conformance with
the Prophecy.  That is something that I would rather we keep to
ourselves for now. Not only would it scare the people and raise
lots of questions we don't want to answer right now, but we
would be tipping our hand to our enemies.  In our land, it is
difficult to keep some secrets.  Between the constant intrigue of
the Court, and the fact that many of our people are sensitive to
auras, keeping your secret will be difficult enough.  If you can
fully communicate, you might say something to alarm someone,
let something slip."  He shook his head.  "No,  it's too
dangerous."
     "That may be,"  said Mulder quietly.  "However, it is the
price of our cooperation.  We're prepared to lay it on the line for
you..."  Reinald's face clouded as the language spell faltered over
the use of idiom.  Mulder rephrased, "We're prepared to help
you, the least you can do is trust us to communicate.  It may even
make the difference between life and death.  Our work in our
reality requires discretion and judgement; we will use it here as
well."
     Reinald looked from Mulder to Scully and back again.  
Faced with the firm set of their jaws, the direct stare, the folded
arms, he realized that he would not have his way, not with these
people.  Especially if they did fulfill the Prophecy.  He exhaled
forcefully, then said,  "Very well.  But I expect you to use your
discretion and judgement.  There are many here at the castle who
cannot be trusted - the Prince's uncle amongst them.  And there
are few I trust completely.  I will cast the spell tonight after
everyone has gone.  In the morning, you will speak, read and
write our language."
     "Thank you," said Mulder.  "Now, is there any
particular protocol to be observed with the Prince?"
     "As outsiders, you would not be expected to know most
of the idiosyncrasies of our culture.  This is fortunate, because we
have an exceptionally involved etiquette, determined by class, and
in some cases, type of being.  You could never learn it well
enough to pass for a native.  That's why we have said that you
are travellers to our land, so that people won't be surprised by
what you don't know.  As far as what you need to know for
tonight - stand when he stands, sit when he sits.  You may
address him either as Your Highness or simply as Andalor.  I
think you may be pleasantly surprised.  He will not be what you
expect.  Are you ready?"
     Mulder and Scully exchanged glances and followed
Reinald across the room to where the table had been set.  
Because of her nephews and nieces, Scully was as accustomed to
children as any non-parent could be.  Mulder, if asked, would
give the traditional bachelor's answer and say he was
uncomfortable with children.  However,  Scully had seen him
with kids on several of their cases, and actually he had a rapport
with them that astonished her, an ability to get onto their level
and have them open up to him that she envied.
     Reinald led them over to the hearth.  "Andalor, these are
the travellers I was telling you about.  Come and meet them."
     From behind the high back of an intricately carved chair
peeked the Prince.  He scrambled off the chair and walked over
to join Reinald.  The affection between the two was clear.  
Reinald stroked the child's head and Andalor looked adoringly up
at the Mage.
     "Mulder and Scully, this is Prince Andalor."  The child
observed them the way children can, with a penetrating gaze that
can make the most confident adult uncomfortable.  Two
travellers, one with the mage's blue aura, and one with Healer and
Warrior colors.  The Prince looked up at Reinald with the poise
and restraint of a much older and more sophisticated person.  
Young as he was, the meaning of these travellers, of their auras,
was not lost on him.
     "Your Highness, thank you for the hospitality of the
Realm," said Scully.  "It is a pleasure to meet you."  The child
was beautiful, she thought.  Smaller than she had expected for an
eight year old, he had straight thick blond hair which framed his
oval face.  His eyes were captivating - large, and of a startling
violet shade, and hinting at a wisdom far in advance of his years..
     Reinald looked at the child, then nodded, and finally
gave him a gentle nudge.  Andalor looked at them, stood up very
straight, and rattled off a little speech he had clearly been
instructed to memorize for the occasion.  "Welcome to the
Realm.  Its people are your friends, its fruits are yours to share.  
Come in peace, stay in peace, depart in peace."   In typical
childish fashion with such memorized pieces,  Andalor rushed
throught the words on one breath and with as little inflection as
possible.
     Mulder smiled.  "I'll bet it was hard learning that."
     The child looked up with a slightly mischievous
expression.  "Not really.  I can remember everything.  Reinald
says it's a great gift."
     Mulder squatted down to be closer to the child's height.  
"Want to know a secret?  I can remember everything too.  
Reinald's right, it is a great gift."
     "Really?  You really can?"  the boy squealed.  "I thought
I was the only one.  Are you sure?  Let me test you!"
     "Andalor, do not be rude," chided Reinald.  The  child
calmed down immediately at the words of the Regent, but looked
very disappointed.
     "Not at all, I don't mind.  What kind of a test, Andalor?"  
Mulder was rewarded by seeing the child light up and look up at
Reinald, who sighed and nodded.
     "Good!" exulted the Prince, who took Mulder by the
hand to lead him over to a tall bookcase teeming with volumes.
     "I can see why you're so proud of him," Scully said to
Reinald.  The two were observing the antics of Mulder and
Andalor, who were on the floor, heads together, pouring over
some books and chattering excitedly.
     "As am I, as am I," huffed a pudgy little man hustling up
to join them.  He shot the Mage a dark look.  "I'm sure it was
merely an oversight that Reinald failed to introduce me.  I am
Drellor, brother to the late King and uncle to Andalor.  Yes, I
think I've done a fine job with the boy, molding him for the great
responsibilities he will have to shoulder.  How wonderful it is to
have such a lovely guest, oh my, yes."   He caught Scully's hand
and bent to kiss it.  She snatched it back as quickly as she could
without appearing rude.
     The man's a reptile, thought Scully.  He should be
hanging around singles bars, asking women their astrological
signs.  The bad blood between Reinald and Drellor was quite
obvious.  Table talk could get lively, she thought, almost looking
forward to it.
     Responding to a subtle signal from Grejor, Reinald
called everyone to the table.  Both Mulder and Scully realized
they were famished, having had nothing substantial since
breakfast.  The meal was simple but delicious - a kind of stew,
spicy and aromatic, served with crusty hot bread.  Mulder and the
Prince sat side by side across from Scully and were deep in
conversation throughout the meal.  Scully's appetite was
dampened somewhat by being seated next to Drellor, but Reinald
deftly put him in his place several times during the meal, which
helped.  At least when he was sputtering about being "in too high
a position to have to listen to Reinald's insults," his fat little
hands
weren't rubbing against her knee.  She comforted herself with
daydreams of what she'd be able to do to the little toad after a
few more lessons from Aldara.
     After fruit and cheese were served, the meal came to an
end.  The Prince was yawning openly, Drellor was sulking, and
both Mulder and Scully wanted nothing more than to return to
their chamber as the events of the day started to catch up with
them.  They said their thanks and goodbyes and, refusing the
offer of someone to show them the way, headed back to their
room.
     Mulder took Scully's arm and tucked it under his,
sandwiching her hand between his own. They strolled the hallway
slowly, taking their time, paying more attention to the decoration
and design of the castle.
     "You and the Prince seemed to hit it off," observed
Scully.
     "Yeah, surprisingly, he's a good kid.  I've always
thought that royal kids would behave like the offspring of Satan
and have an attitude to boot, but he's really a very nice little boy.  
Very intelligent, almost frighteningly so.  And he does have an
eidetic memory.  His parents died some time ago.  Evidently,
Uncle Drellor thought he was a shoe-in for the Regent's job until
the late King's will named Reinald.   The kid can't stand his uncle,
by the way."
     "The kid's got good taste.  His uncle is a worm.  Very
full of himself, ready to take credit for everything that turns out
well.  If he pawed me one more time, I was going to -"
     "He was putting a move on you, Scully?  I knew I
detested him on sight for some reason. Don't worry.  I'll change
him into a frog or something - as soon as I learn how.  Here we
are.  And you thought I had a bad sense of direction.  Oh, ye of
little faith."
     Mulder pushed the door open.  Evidently, Lita had
already been in to prepare the room.  The opaque bedcurtains had
been loosed from their ties, creating a private cocoon in the midst
of the large room, and the bedcovers had been opened in
readiness.  With only two torches still lit and the fire dying down,
the chamber was cloaked in a comfortable dusk.  Again, tea had
been prepared on a tray by the fire.
     "Tea, Scully?"
     'Mmmm, please.  This could get to be a very nice habit -
sitting and talking and having tea before bed,  Very civilized."  
She sat in one of the chairs and gratefully accepted the mug from
Mulder.  "The nighttime tea is different from the daytime tea."
     "Yeah, this one probably has soporific properties, like
the daytime tea has energizing ones.  Somehow, I don't think I'm
going to have any problems with insomnia tonight.  I had a few
minutes with Reinald while you were saying goodnight to
Andalor.  I'll be spending the morning with him and then joining
your friend Aldara.  Apparently, Reinald thinks it would be a
good idea for me not to be completely dependent on my magic to
save my life, which may not show much confidence in my magic,
but it's nice he thinks my life is worth preserving.  Anyway, I'll be
doing a couple of hours every afternoon with Aldara, playing
Errol Flynn."
     Scully smiled knowingly.  "I must say, I'm looking
forward to watching you."
     He chuckled.  "I'm sure.  Unfortunately, you won't get
the chance.  When I show up, you're supposed to go find Corvay
the Healer, and get updated on the latest in herbal and psychic
healing."
     Scully looked dismayed.  "Mulder, I don't believe in
psychic healing!  How can I learn something I don't even believe
in?"
     He smiled.  "It's what I keep saying - open yourself up
to extreme possibilities, Scully."  He smile faded.  "After all, it
saved your life yesterday from the soul-eaters' toxin.  Anything
that saves your life is an extreme possibility worth believing in."
     She stretched and groaned.  "Well right now I'd like to
be able to psychicly heal my aching body.  I knew I had had a
workout, but God, I'm really feeling it now."
     He walked over to her chair and gave her a hand up.  In
a low voice he said, "Maybe I can do something about that.  Go
get ready for bed."
     She looked at him quizzically, but his expression gave
nothing away.  She walked to the armoire, plucked out a pale
blue silky thing, and went into the bathroom.  Mulder gathered
the used tea things on the tray, then extinguished the two torches.  
By the low light from the dying fire, he stripped out of his clothes
and left them folded neatly over a chair.  Naked, he padded over
to the armoire and chose some soft dark blue shorts and slipped
them on. When Scully came out of the bathroom, he entered to
take his turn.   Before the door closed, he stuck his head out of
the opening.   "Oh, and Scully?  Take that blue thing off."
     Her head snapped around to look at him.  Her eyes were
huge.  "What?" she said, in a hoarse whisper.     
     He smiled.  "Relax.  You're just going to get the best
massage of your life.  Get into bed.  I'll be out in a minute."  He
closed the door.
     When he emerged, Scully was in bed, covers up to her
neck.  The blue nightshirt lay on the bedcover near the bottom of
the bed.  Moving the silky hangings out of the way, he boosted
himself up onto his side of the bed.  "Roll over."
     Somewhat apprehensively she complied, turning over
onto her stomach.  He crawled over to her on hands and knees,
straddled her upper thighs, and gently lowered himself.  "Okay?"  
     Silently, she nodded, then felt him pulling the warmth
and safety of the bedclothes away, down past her shoulders, past
her waist, just to the point she would have asked him to stop, had
he not stopped of his own accord.   She felt him lean over her, his
special aroma registering in her senses, his breath on her back.  
He placed his warm hands on her neck, his thumbs running up the
back of her neck in tiny circles to unknot the muscles at the base
of her skull.  When her neck muscles had relaxed, he started in
first on her left shoulder, carefully avoiding the injured skin,  then
the right.  Scully moaned a little, and he stopped.
     "Did I hurt you?"
     "Unh-uh."  She shook her head a little.  "Feels
wonderful."    
     His long fingers first kneaded the muscles of her
shoulders and upper arms gently, then progressively more deeply
until the knots had been completely smoothed out.  He made his
way down each arm, even massaging the tiny muscles of her
hands and fingers, until they lay limp on the mattress.  He then
turned his attention to her back, his hands sweeping up in long,
firm strokes.  
     "Sorry, Scully," he murmured.  "This would be a lot
better with lotion or oil."
     Her words were muffled.  "Mulder, if it were any better,
I couldn't stand it."
     He smiled, then probed the muscles around her shoulder
blades with his strong fingers for several minutes, working out all
the kinks, and smoothed the skin with gentle strokes from his
palms before going on to the middle of her back and repeating
the the same magic there.  Finally, he placed his hands low on the
small of her back on either side of her spine, and using firm
pressure made small circles with the heels of his hands over the
tight muscles there.  Scully gasped softly.
     Mulder hesitated for a second and took a breath, then
continued. His voice was soft and shook slightly.  "Any more of
that, Dana, and I'm going to have to stop."   He let his hands
venture under the covers, and sensing no protest, extended the
deep massage to her tailbone and hips for several minutes.  Then
he again smoothed the skin of her lower back with soft strokes
from his palms before rolling up the covers to her shoulders.
     "Scully?"  he whispered.  "Dana?"  Her breathing was
deep and regular.
     He leaned over her to try to catch a glimpse of her face,
but couldn't.  Gently, he swept a lock of her hair back from the
side of her neck and replaced it with his lips for the space of five
heartbeats.  Then he rolled from her, moved the bedcurtains and
slid off the bed.  Finding a blanket of sorts in the armoire,  he
walked to the hearth, moved the armchairs to face one another,
and stretched out.  Magician or not, there was no way he could
stay in that bed with her right now.
     Eyes wide open, Scully drew in a tremulous breath.

End Chapter Four

====================================================

Chapter Five - Part 1

     "Good.  Good, you're improving."  Aldara stopped to
wipe the perspiration from her face with the back of her arm.  
"How about a break?"
     Scully collapsed gratefully where she stood near the hay
bales, and leaned back into them for support.  She and Aldara
had been drilling for what must have been hours now.   The
removal of the language barrier had been a huge relief.  It had
been nice to make small talk with Lita at breakfast this morning,
and to be able to ask directions for getting around.  Aldara had
lost no time in taking advantage of being able to communicate
and had worked Scully very hard. Physically, she was bone-tired,
but she was starting to come to terms about being here and with
her role in the Realm. Already, she felt herself becoming stronger,
and exulted in it.  Only when she thought of home and what her
disappearance would do to her mother - again - did Scully have
misgivings, so she tried to focus as much as possible on her job
here.
     Aldara appeared, carrying the ubiquitous tea.  She
handed Scully one mug and sat down in the dust near her.  
Searching in her pocket, she brought out two small pieces of
fruit, and tossed one to Scully, who caught it and smiled her
thanks.
     "It's nice to finally be able to talk," Scully began.  "How
did you come to be a warrior?  Seems like an odd occupation in
such a peaceful place."
     "It isn't always peaceful, it just seems that way.  Besides,
there's the Prophecy - the time is coming, maybe soon." Her jaw
tightened, then she repeated,   "So, how did I come to be a
warrior?"   Aldara laughed, but it was laughter tinged with
bitterness.   "Probably because I was always fighting as a kid.  I'm
half human and half elf."  She drew her hair back to show Scully
her pointed ears.  "Such mixtures aren't unknown, but they are
unusual.  The beings usually stick to their own kind.  That was
part of the problem, but not the biggest part.  The real problem
was that elves are very sensitive to magic and auras, and my
father was particularly sensitive, even for an elf.  He had abilities
that, if they had been developed further, might have made him a
very powerful magician.  
     "Of course once my mother and he got together, that
was out of the question.  All my brothers and sisters seemed to
inherit his physical characteristics and magic abilities - everyone
except me.  I grew to be even taller than my human mother, and
was totally blind to the metaphysical, compared to the special
sight that my brothers and sisters had.  And which they never
failed to use to their advantage whenever we played games or did
chores.  I just never felt I belonged, especially after my mother
died in my sixth summer.  I don't really blame my father, but he
had more in common with the other kids, and spent more time
and energy on them.  Nothing I did seemed to please him.  So I
was always angry."  Again, she laughed bitterly.       "Quick
anger is one of the few elven characteristics I did inherit from
him.  Anyway, it became clear that I needed either a way to get
rid of the anger or to use it, and using it was easier.  So I left
home in my sixteenth harvest.  I lived in the forest by my wits for
a while, getting stronger, learning of the world.  When I
journeyed here to Fairwoods Keep, I offered my services and to
my surprise, they accepted my offer."
     As Aldara talked, Scully couldn't help but make
comparisons.  She, too, had always tried to please her father,
coming to the realization only after he was gone that he had been
proud of her all along.  And Mulder - his nightmare childhood
didn't bear thinking about.  Funny, she thought, how these
experiences affect us.  They either make us what we are, or we
become what we are in spite of them.
     "Is the weather always changeable? That thunderstorm
yesterday came out of nowhere." Scully still couldn't quite bring
herelf to believe Mulder had caused it.
     Aldara looked puzzled for a minute, then her face
cleared.  "Oh, you mean the Mage-storm."
     "Mage-storm...I don't know what that is," said Scully,
frowning.
     Aldara looked at her strangely, wondering where this
traveller was from that she didn't know about Mage-storms.  
"There's thunderstorms, and then there's Mage-storms.  Mage-
storms happen when a magician becomes furious," Aldara
explained.  "They're different, more concentrated, more violent.  
They can even be directed at someone.  Just one of the countless
ways that magicians can use their power to frighten and
intimidate," she finished coldly.
     "I take it you don't like magicians much."
     Aldara shrugged.  "Not much, no."
     "My partner is a magician, you know.  At least Reinald
thinks he is."
     "I know.  I heard."  She was unenthusiastic.  "Reinald's
not bad, for a Mage."
     "I think you'll find that Mulder is quite a bit different
from what you're expecting,"  Scully said.
     Aldara gave her an enigmatic look and stood up.  "Take
the guard off your sword.  You've learned enough to protect
yourself.  Let's see what you can do."
     Scully removed the guard, grasped the hilt with both
hands, and assumed the correct stance.  With a throaty yell, she
swung it first over her head and then toward Aldara, who fended
off the blow easily, and launched one of her own.  Scully blocked
it inelegantly but effectively.
     Mulder stood in the shelter of a stack of wooden crates
and observed the amazing scene before him.  The clash of metal
on metal rang in his ears as he watched the two figures whirl and
thrust and parry, swinging the swords, much longer than their
wielders were tall, with apparent ease.  Suddenly Aldara's
weapon sliced through the air with incredible speed.  A thin line
of red showed through the long cut in the left sleeve of Scully's
tunic.  He caught his breath and just managed to bite back a cry
of concern.  But if anything, the wound only spurred Scully on to
greater ferocity.  Mulder, his heart still beating in his throat, was
speechless.  Would his partner never cease to amaze him?  He
could understand now why his overprotectiveness might seem
like an insult.  He moved from behind the shelter of the crates
and approached the two women.
     Scully lifted her sword and struck down at Aldara so
hard that the warrior grunted, and a look of surprised approval
came over her face.  A couple of deft moves later, however,
Scully's weapon was flying out of her hands, coming to lodge in
the ground at Mulder's feet, and Aldara's sword was at her throat.  
The two women looked at each other and tried to catch their
breath.
     "Excellent, very promising," panted Aldara, smiling and
nodding.
     Scully merely grinned in response, not having enough
breath to speak yet.  But the praise from her exacting teacher
elated her.  She walked over toward Mulder, and used two hands
to pull the weapon from the ground.  She smiled up at him. "Hey,
Mulder. You ready?"  She refastened the guard to her sword, and
passed the weapon to Aldara.
     "From what I've seen, no, I'm not even close to being
ready.  Are you a quick learner, Scully, or have you been hiding
some of your talents from me?  Skinner should see you now."
     She flashed a grin at him, then turned to Aldara and
said, "This is Mulder.  He can be a real pain in the ass, so don't
let him give you any trouble."  Turning back to Mulder, she did
not see the warrior's look of anxiety.
     "Good luck,  Mulder.  You'll need it.  Although I tired
her out a little for you.  You have no idea how much I'd like to
stay for your lesson," she smiled impudently.  Aldara's concern
for her new friend grew.  Didn't Scully realize that one just did
not speak to a Mage like this?
     "Have a nice class with Corvay,"  he teased.   In a very
low voice, he said, "Maybe he can take a look at that arm.  You
ladies don't play nice, do you?"  His half-smile did not entirely
reach his eyes, which showed only his concern.
     "I'm okay, Mulder."  She turned and started walking
back toward the castle, then called over her shoulder,  "Just be
careful - she doesn't like magicians much."
     Inwardly, he groaned.  Oh, great.
     He walked over to Aldara and smiled.  "Hi.  I'm Mulder.  
I'd shake hands with you, but I've been told that has dire
consequences."
     Her unfriendly stare thawed slightly for a moment, and
then once again became glacier cold.  "What can you do with a
sword, Mage?"
     "Well, I did a little fencing while I was at Oxford, but
I've never used anything the size of those,"  He said, indicating
the long blades.  "Besides, that was a long time ago."
     The language spell had some problems with "Oxford",
but Aldara understood the essence of what he said.  "Those are
women's weapons," she said, just short of making the words an
insult.  She walked over to the weapons rack and chose a sword
at least eight inches longer and five pounds heavier.  She attached
a leather guard to it and handed it to Mulder, who was as startled
as Scully had been at how heavy and cumbersome the weapon
was.
     "Hold it like this.  Watch, then do what I do."  Quickly
she demonstrated the basic moves.  All right, Mage, she thought.  
Let's see what you can do with that.  "Now, with me."
     Again, she quickly went through the sequence of
practice moves and was surprised to see Mulder not only keeping
up, but performing the actions with a grace and economy of
motion that was astounding in a beginner.  Aldara frowned a little
when they had finished.  "Not entirely bad.  Again, by yourself
this time."
     Mulder swung the sword, performing the whirls and
kicks and slashes that made up the basics of Realm
swordsmanship.  Based on what Scully had said about Aldara's
not liking magicians, he was not expecting effusive praise,
although he felt he was doing pretty well.  He wondered what she
had against Mages.  
     "Adequate.  And again." Aldara watched him with an
eagle eye for mistakes.  For once, it was nice to have the upper
hand when dealing with a Mage.  She drilled him for over an hour
without stopping, and he performed the basic moves repeatedly
without comment or complaint.  Perversely, the better he
performed and the more he persevered, the more sullen Aldara
became. So far, he had displayed no weakness, and had
demonstrated skills that she had labored years to acquire.  It
wasn't fair, she thought.  It wasn't fair at all.  She began to get
angry.
     "Now, Mage, let's see if you can apply what you've
learned and put your new skills to some practical use."  Aldara
brought her sword up to fighting position.  Perhaps it was her
anger, perhaps it was something deeper.  In any case, she did not
notice that she had never refastened the leather guard onto her
blade.
     Aldara launched herself at Mulder who acted purely out
of instinct at first, throwing his blade up to repel hers, astonished
at the force such a tiny figure could exert.  Before he could get
over the shock of the first attack, she was at him again, coming
from the opposite side.  Mulder dropped into a forward roll,
sprang to his feet and turned to face her, bringing his sword from
around his head to crash against hers with tremendous power.  
His unconventional move had startled her, breaking her
concentration, and she had to use all her strength to fend off his
blow.
     Aldara's temper flared as it hadn't done for years.  
Savagely, she attacked, swinging her sword, cutting the air with
lightning speed, slicing through the air again and again.  Mulder
defended himself as best he could, but was clearly not a match for
the seasoned fighter.  He grimly maneuvered his blade to meet
and stop each of her blows, knowing that he couldn't keep it up
forever.  Finally, her blade bit into the leather guard on his sword,
and caught.  Her next move twisted the weapon from his hands
and sent it spinning out of his reach.  He went down hard on his
back, her weapon sharp against his throat.  Urgently, he cried
"Aldara, don't!"
     Hearing her name, Aldara slowly came to herself as her
white-hot anger receded.  She looked down at her opponent on
the ground.  Horrified, she saw the point of her unguarded sword
under his chin, and a steady trickle of blood dripping from the tip
of her weapon to collect in a little pool at the hollow of his
throat.
     "Oh gods," she whimpered.  The sword fell from her
hands as she backed away from Mulder, her horrified eyes never
leaving his.
     He got to his feet a little shakily, wiping the blood from
his throat with the back of his hand and breathing deeply to
counteract the wave of dizziness that hit him.  He bent over with
his head down, his hands braced on his knees.  "Interesting
teaching methods," he gasped.
     Aldara continued to retreat, shaking her head in terror,
tears rolling down her face, until her heel caught in one of the hay
bales and she fell heavily against it.  Slowly standing upright and
finding that the dizziness had passed, Mulder trudged over to her
and extended a hand to help her up.
     "NO!" she screamed, cowering.  She threw her arms
around her head and curled up in a ball, trembling from head to
toe.
     Mulder stopped.  What the hell did HE do?  Obviously,
his proximity just made things worse, so he backed off a few feet
and sat on the ground, catching his breath.   His arms hugged his
knees, and he rested his head on them, trying to clear his mind.  
Mentally he went through his magician's checklist, almost a
mantra for him now, to make sure he wasn't inadvertently using
his powers.  Satisfied that his controls were in place and his
power grounded, he sat and rested, hearing Aldara's hysterical
sobbing slow and quieten, waiting until she was rational enough
to talk.
     Shakily, angrily, Aldara wiped her face.  What was he
up to now?  Maybe he was plotting.  Maybe he would report her
negligence to Jourdain, and she would be banished from the only
real home she had ever known.  Or worse, he would tell Reinald.  
And then together they would think of a spell so awful -
     "Aldara, are you all right?"  Mulder asked gently.  He
was on his feet again and walking slowly toward her.  "Did I do
something wrong, something to upset you?"  He sat on a bale a
few feet away from her, anxiously scanning her face for any kind
of a clue as to what was wrong.
     Her eyes narrowed.  What was this?  He actually
seemed concerned about her.   He definitely wasn't angry - even
with her extremely limited sensitivity, she would be able to
discern the aura of an infuriated Mage. His aura shimmered a
brilliant calm blue, like a lake on a windless summer day.
     "It was inexcusable," she whispered.  "You could have
been killed."
     Mulder nodded.  "Did you think I was going to hurt
you?"
     "I was angry, and I wanted to teach you a lesson, and I
didn't notice the guard was missing.  Then I ....  Mages have
killed people for far less reason.  When you tell Reinald, it may
still be so."  The terror came back into Aldara's eyes.  She
watched him closely.
     Mulder nodded again and considered.  He couldn't
believe that Reinald would ever deliberately hurt anyone, but her
terror was obviously very real. "Okay.  Then suppose we keep
this our little secret."  Anything, to remove the fear from those
amazing green eyes.
     Aldara knew she should be silent and thankful that she
had emerged from this incident with her life and limbs intact.  But
she just couldn't help herself.  "Why are you doing this?"
     "Because it was a mistake and you didn't do it
deliberately.  Because I don't think it will ever happen again.  
Because you're Scully's friend.  Because you're a damned good
teacher, and what you teach us could save our lives someday.  
Because I don't work that way, I don't do that kind of thing."  He
shrugged.  "Lots of reasons."
     She sat up, starting to relax a little.  "You don't sound
much like a Mage.  Scully said you were different."
     He chuckled. "Scully was right.  So - better now?"
     "Your throat - it's still bleeding a little.  I-I'm sorry, I
really am."
     He wiped at the blood on his throat again, looked at her
and smiled.  "I know you are.  Don't worry about it, I've done
worse myself, shaving."  He hesitated for a second.  "Do me a
favor, though.  That's a pretty awe-inspiring temper you have,
and it makes me nervous.  Don't ever get mad at Scully, okay?  In
fact, don't get mad at me again, either.  If you're annoyed with
me, tell me, alright?  It's all right, Scully gets annoyed with me all
the time."
     She finally smiled a little, then.  Mulder stood and
carefully extended his hand.  She just as carefully grasped it, as
he helped her up.
     "Same time tomorrow?"
     Mutely, she nodded.
     "Okay.  Goodbye, Aldara.  Thanks for the lesson."
     Her  eyes followed him as he strolled back toward the
castle, stopping to look at things which caught his interest on the
way.  Scully was right.  He WAS different.
-------------------

===============================================
Chapter Five - Part Two

     Scully pushed at the huge wooden door which swung
outward onto a pleasant, sunny garden.  At the far end of the
garden was her destination, a small stone structure - the chamber
and workroom of Corvay the Healer.  She made her way along
the path that wound through the plant beds, noting the confusion
of scents eminating from them.  The door of the little stone
building was wide open and she poked her head inside.  
"Corvay?"  A muffled, distant-sounding voice called, "Enter."
     Scully walked tentatively into the large but cluttered
room, looking around for the owner of the voice.  The room was
long and narrow, with low ceilings, so low that in some places
even Scully's head brushed the rough-hewn dark wood beams.   
Several cauldrons bubbled purposefully on the huge hearth,
sending up clouds of steam.  On every surface there were mortars
and pots and jars holding creams and powders and elixirs.  It
looked chaotic, but she expected it was the same kind of chaos as
in Mulder's office, where its occupant knew exactly where to lay
his hands on everything.  "Corvay?"  Scully called again.
     A tiny figure emerged seemingly out of the very floor
itself, until Scully noticed the open bulkhead doors which
evidently led to some kind of a root cellar.  "Sorry, my dear.  Just
gathering ingredients."  He put a burlap sack on the nearest
empty place he could find and bustled over to her. "Perhaps we
can have some tea and you can tell me all about yourself,
hmmm?"  Corvay found a couple of low stools under a table and
dragged them out, gesturing at Scully to sit.  He handed her a
mug, then poured one for himself and sat.  She inhaled the fruit-
scented steam and sipped at the scalding liquid.
     "Now, I know you are a healer, I can see it in your aura.  
What training have you had?"  The elderly elf smiled expectantly.
     "I come from...very far away, and our cultures are very
different.  The healers where I come from have many machines
and many, many helpers and other things you don't have.  We
may have some of the same herbal treatments - I think I noticed
foxglove and nightshade in your garden.  But for the most part,
our healers have different methods.  There is no psychic aspect to
our healing."
     "No psychic aspect!"  The little healer was plainly
shocked.  "How does anyone ever get better?  How can you
repair the whole person - his mind and soul, as well as his body -
if that aspect is neglected?   How can you remove the
cornerstone and not have everything collapse?  Gods, how can
you even be sure what is wrong, if you don't use your mental
energy?"
     Scully shrugged, feeling she had to defend her world
and her profession.  "We have developed complex
instrumentation to help us diagnose the causes of injury and
illness. Most of the time, it works fairly well.  In any case, it is
the only form of healing we know."
     "What a strange place you come from,"  said Corvay,
shaking his head.  "Healers that don't heal and magicians who
never cast a single spell.  It would appear then that we have a lot
to cover.  Thank the gods that your natural psi ability is so high."
     "Psi ability?  I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken,"  
Scully said, politely but firmly.
     "Oh no, no mistake, my dear.  You have quite
exceptional ability, it's quite clear.  I can sense it from quite a
distance.  I can tell it's untrained - your projections are not very
focused  - but it is certainly there.  Very well, let's begin, shall
we?"
     He bustled over to the table, his long brown tunic
dragging on the wooden floor.  "Now, let's start with the herbals
we have in common, and we'll go from there."
     For the next half hour or so, Scully wracked her brain
for what she remembered of her botany and pharmacology
classes.  Using quill pen and parchment supplied by the healer,
she took careful notes, especially when the lesson proceeded into
areas not covered in Med school, such as troll toxicology and the
allergies common in gargoyles.  She was in the middle of such a
note when she felt a sudden sense of disorientation. One instant
she was sitting with Corvay, the next she was facing Aldara, who,
with teeth bared in a ferocious grimace, was taking him/her to the
ground with the point of her sword at his/her throat.  "Aldara,
don't!"
     Corvay's head snapped up and he looked over to see a
very white and shaken Scully.   "Sit down before you fall down,
Scully, my dear."  The healer took her arm and helped her to a
stool.  "Now, what's the problem?"
     "I'm okay - it was just for a minute - "
     " - you were somewhere else, " he continued for her,
very matter of factly.  "With Mulder, I assume.  Everything all
right now?"
     "I - yeah, I think so, I think it is now."  Scully took a
couple of deep breaths and rubbed her throat thoughtfully.
     "Quite a demonstration for someone with no psi ability,
wouldn't you say?"  teased Corvay.
     Scully gave him a long look, then dropped her head into
her hands and didn't answer him.  What the hell was going on?  
She was really starting to doubt her sanity now.
     "This really is all very new to you, isn't it?'  asked the
healer, wonderingly.
     Becoming more distressed by the second, Scully
nodded.  "It never happened before we came here, and now it
keeps happening - all of a sudden I'll be Mulder, or sometimes
he'll be me - and it scares the hell out of me!  If that's what psi
ability does for me, I don't want it!"  she shouted.    Scully felt
like the floodgates were opening - all the misgivings and fears
and threats to her beliefs were rushing out in a torrent.  She was
near tears.   "It just happens, there's no controlling it.  I know it's

Mulder that's in there, and I know we're - we're close.   And
while there's no one else I'd rather have in my brain, it's MY brain
- I really don't want ANYONE randomly popping into it.  And
when I'm in his head, I feel like I'm invading HIS privacy."  She
was weeping openly now, her tone down to a hoarse whisper.  "I
shared a nightmare with him the other night, something from his
past, something that really happened.  I saw so much he hadn't
told me, hadn't told anyone because he didn't WANT anyone to
know - the terror, the pain, the guilt.  Now I know, and he knows
that I know.  How's that supposed to make him feel?  What's that
going to do to us, what will that kind of stress do to our
relationship?  And what if someone other than Mulder gets in
there?  At least I trust Mulder."  She wept, brokenly.  "What am I
talking about?  None of this can be happening.  I really don't
think I can take too much more of this."
     The healer took her small hands in his even smaller ones,
and probed gently into her mind, mentally soothing, calming and
comforting.  "First, I believe if you really think about it, you will
find it did happen before you came here, but you weren't attuned
to it.  Or more precisely, you didn't WANT to be attuned to it, so
you tried to block it out.  It won't work, you know - you still
have the gift, no matter how much you may try to ignore it."  He
released her hands, and smiled. "And you really don't have to
worry about anyone else being in your brain other than Mulder.  
Healers may enter, but we have a very strict ethical code about
that kind of thing.  These empathic links between you and Mulder
- it's not just your psi ability, there's something else at work here,
too, something specific to the two of you.  There's no need to
fear for your relationship, as in time you will come to understand.  
But I can help you learn to control these experiences."
     Scully was calmer now, and unaware that the healer had
helped to instill that state, so gentle was his touch.  "How can I
control what I'm not sure even exists?  You don't understand -
this sort of thing goes against everything I've always believed in."
     "You don't believe in psychic healing, either?" asked the
little elf.
     "Thoughts don't heal people,"  Scully said firmly.  
"Thoughts are just - thoughts."
     "Well, there's thoughts and there's psychic energy and
the two are not necessarily the same, but we won't argue over
semantics.  Someone who demands proof!  Very well, let us
construct a little experiment, shall we?  What happened to your
arm?"
     Scully glanced down. "Oh.  Just got a little too close to
Aldara's sword.  It's nothing, it will heal in a few days."
     "What if I were to tell you that we - you - will heal it
today, right now?"
     "I'd say that you were crazy,"  Scully said flatly.
     The healer laughed.  "Very well, we'll see.  Will you try
this?"
     "Experimentation is at the very heart of the scientific
method. I have no objection to an experiment,"  agreed Scully.
     "Good.  Get comfortable, and close your eyes. Just
listen to me and do as I ask you to do.  Are you comfortable?"
     "Yes.  Look - you're not going to hypnotize me, are
you?  I really don't want that."
     "If  you mean inducing a trance state, no, it's not like
that, exactly.  I'm just the instruction manual, if you will.  I'm just

going to tell you what to do, and if you agree, you're going to do
it.  In no way will you have to reveal yourself, or will you be
under my power or anything like that.  Now, are you agreed?  
Ready to proceed?"
     "What if I change my mind after we've started?"  Scully
was clearly nervous.
     "That's all right, you can do that.  I don't think you're
going to want to, but you may do that if you wish, "  Corvay said
patiently.
     Scully took a deep breath.  "All right, I'm ready."
     "Splendid.  Try to relax.  Place your right hand on your
left arm. All right, clear your mind of everything except your arm,  
the wound in your arm.  Picture it.  Picture what is going on in
your body right now, under your skin, in your veins - the
elements of the healing process that are working to close the
wound.  Visualize them, travelling to the wound.  Can you see
them, Scully?"
     Slowly, Scully nodded. As she listened to Corvay's
soothing voice, she felt herself beginning to relax. And with the
sense of calm, came an odd, yet somehow familiar, sense of inner
awareness.
     "Watch them," Corvay urged gently.  "They are moving
much too slowly.  They need to move faster.  Picture them
moving more quickly.  Make them move faster, will them to
move more quickly.  Let some of your energy flow from your
hand to help them move more quickly. Can your hand feel them,
can you see them moving faster?"
     Again, Scully nodded.  She COULD see them, the white
cells racing to the site to prevent infection, the skin cells
regenerating, faster and faster at her will.  She directed them, first
here, now there, always more quickly.  Finally, from what
sounded like a very long way away, she heard "You can let them
move more slowly now, you can let them return to rest."
     "Scully, open your eyes."
     She dragged herself back from wherever she had been
and looked at the healer, dazed and tired.  He was smiling at her.  
"Look at your arm and tell me I'm crazy."
     She looked down at her arm.  The deep abrasion was
gone without a trace.  "I did that?" she said, shaken.
     Corvay nodded.  "You did it entirely yourself - all I did
was to help you center your thoughts, your energy.  The healing
you did on your own.  Now, this was very simple test, it's usually
much more involved, but I think we can call the experiment a
success, wouldn't you agree?"
     "Yes,"  said Scully absently.  "Yes, I guess so."  She
looked disturbed, more now than she had earlier.
     "What is it, my dear?" asked Corvay, surprised.  He had
expected her to be pleased that she had successfully healed the
scratch, especially at her first attempt.  Her reaction puzzled him.
     She looked at him, the confusion and pain, almost panic,
evident in her eyes.   "I need to think about this.  Will you please
excuse me?"
     He stood back and watched her trip blindly through the
door and out into the garden.
                         - - - - -

     After his taxing morning with Reinald followed by his
workout with Aldara, Mulder had returned to their bedchamber
exhausted.  Intending to do nothing but sit and relax by the fire,
he had felt himself sliding further and further into a state of
torpor, finally succumbing entirely.  Suddenly he awoke, with a
disturbing picture in his mind.  But what he saw made no sense.  
In his mind was an image of a building, a fine tall modernistic
skyscraper.  Suddenly, the foundation began cracking, mortar and
stone crumbling to dust before his eyes.  The cracks spread
further, higher up, to weaken all the upper stories of the building.  
More stone and brick started falling from the building, until with
an ungodly roar, the whole structure started to collapse in a
cloud of dust.  And somehow, all of this had a connection with
Scully.  He tried to quell the rising anxiety he felt.  It couldn't be
really happening, there were no skyscrapers in this world.  A
representation, then?  A psychic analogy?  But for what?  
     He made a conscious effort to relax and make his mind
receptive.  Gradually, his surroundings changed.  They were
vague shadows at first, but the images soon became sharper and
more defined.  He was in a low, crowded room, a room that
smelled oddly, with lots of jars and things around.  Scully!  He
saw Scully, and she was with Corvay, and she was upset, near
tears.  Then, like a door had opened, he heard them speaking,
Corvay pleased with the success of some experiment, Scully
shaken to her core.  A healing experiment, Scully had tried
psychic healing and had succeeded.  But rather than feeling happy
about it, she was confused, lost.  All her long held-beliefs were
crumbling, and she was too frightened to believe in anything else.
     Mulder felt her turbulent emotions, her incredible pain,
the sense of betrayal, of fear, of being alone.   Standing, he saw
her stumbling down long stone corridors in emotional agony.  He
had to get to her.   Now.
                         - - - - -

     Almost in a daze, Scully followed the hallways, taking
notice of nothing, her feet moving automatically, stumbling a
little over uneven areas in the stone floors.  Corridors that don't
exist, thought Scully.  They CAN'T exist.  Because if they exist,
then everything else does as well.  And the magic and the psychic
healing and the gargoyles and elves and trolls - none of those can
exist, they can't be real. Only science...only science -  Scully's
vision was blinded by the hot tears welling up in her eyes.  
Science didn't explain any of this.  Therefore, it couldn't be
happening, right?  She was insane, or have been slipped some
hallucinogenic drug or something.  Not much comfort there.
     Or was science betraying her?  Maybe all this existed
and science wasn't real, and she had been believing in a lie, living
a lie her whole life.
     Scully's pace quickened, as if she could flee the torment
of her thoughts.  Oblivious to everything else, she rounded a
corner and crashed into some young guards wearing the colors of
one of the noble houses.   She backed up without really seeing
them, mumbled a vague apology, and moved to go around them.
     "Not so fast, woman,"  said the tallest one as he roughly
grabbed her left wrist.  "We are of the House of Dordinal, and
you will give us the respect we deserve."  His friends muttered
encouragement.  There were four of them in all, young humans
spoiling for trouble.
     "Look, I'm sorry, it was an accident."  Scully's voice had
an edge to it, born of the emotional turmoil she had experienced
that afternoon.  The last thing she needed was a gang of bullies -
drunk, by the smell of them -  to have to deal with.  She
attempted to break free of his grasp, but he tightened it, throwing
her painfully against the stone wall of the hallway and pinning her
there with the weight of his body.
     He leered down at her. "I don't think you're sorry, you
don't sound sorry at all.  Whose servant are you, that they let you
go about in ripped and dirty clothing and insulting the cream of
the House of Dordinal?"  The hand not grasping her wrist slid
down her face, her neck and continued touching and grabbing at
her the length of her body.  His friends looked on avidly, calling
their support.
     A little belatedly, Scully's mind turned from the problem
of her crumbling belief system and applied itself to the more
urgent problem at hand.  Coldly, clearly, she said,  "I'm only
going to say this once.  Let go of me and back off now."
     Her words were greeted with hoots of derision by the
his friends, and with furor by the guard holding her.  His free
hand now went to her throat, squeezing, and he practically spat
out, "You will live or die by my pleasure, bitch, and you'll wish
you were dead before I'm through."
     Suddenly, Scully felt an icy anger overwhelm her.  Her
right hand flashed out to her captor's belt and ripped his dagger
from its sheath.  She pressed it to his throat.  Looking directly
into his drunken face and never raising her voice, she said,  "I
said, let go of me and back...off...now."
     The other guards were confused for a few seconds, then
began to move toward her.  Smiling, she pressed on the knife tip,
drawing blood, and the guard's eyes grew wide.  "Get back!  
She's a lunatic!  She's going to kill me!"  The others stopped and
began to back away.  Suddenly, Scully felt Mulder with her in her
mind, frantically trying to find her in the maze of hallways.  
Mentally she reassured him, and maintained the contact, letting it
act as a beacon to draw him to her.
     "Now,"  she snarled, never removing the pressure of the
dagger tip, "Let's get something straight.  I am a guest of the
Mage Reinald, and I have travelled here with another Mage.  
Don't EVER touch me again.  Don't ever lay your hands on ANY
woman as you have touched me.  One word from me will have
two Mages deciding your fate, and your puny imaginations can't
even begin to think of the horror they will cast for you.  Is that
clear?"
     Most of the young guards backed away at the mention
of Reinald's name.  The bully who had threatened her was mad
with terror.  But one of his friends looked at her and sneered to
the others, "She's lying, look at her.  She doesn't know any Mage.  
We can take her!"
     Coolly, a voice said,  "I wouldn't try - I've seen her in
action, and frankly, I don't think you stand a chance.  In fact, I
don't think you boys are responsible enough to be around sharp
objects right now."  He was still for a few a seconds, then
suddenly, their swords flew from their sheaths to hang in midair
next to Mulder, who leaned against a wall, shield deliberately
tuned down to let his mage aura flare, arms crossed negligently in
front of him.  Four pairs of eyes stared, then four sets of legs
pounded away from them down the hallway, stumbling in their
panic.
     Mulder walked over to Scully.  "Tough day?"
                         - - - - -

     They walked mutely back to their chamber, where Lita
had laid the table for a meal neither of them really wanted.  They
ate a little, out of a sense of duty to Lita and to their stomachs,
but sighed with relief when she cleared away the supper things,
readied the room for the night, and departed.  They moved to the
armchairs and sat staring into the fire, lost in their own thoughts,
occasionally wondering who would be the first to break the long
silence that stretched out between them.
     "Mulder, I owe you an apology."
     He looked over at her, startled.  Of all the things she
could have said, this was the least expected.   "What makes you
think that, Scully?"  he asked softly.
     She continued to look into the fire.  "Because during
our entire association, I've been denying what you've shown me,
denying what my own eyes have seen.  Denying everything
because I couldn't explain it using scientific law.  I don't know
anything anymore, Mulder."  She turned to look at him, the pain
of her admission reflected in her eyes.  "In the last two days,
we've seen and experienced things that make anything we've seen
before pale in comparison.  And I can't explain any of it.   I don't
know what to believe anymore, what to put my trust in.  But I
know it's not science."
     He looked at her with limitless sympathy.  "I can't tell
you what to believe, Scully.  I wish I could.  But you have to
decide that for yourself.  Science explains some things very well.  
Maybe we don't know enough about science. Maybe we just have
to expand its definition a bit; or consider magic the local
equivalent of science. It certainly follows a distinct set of rules -
or laws - which are determined by experimentation. Goodness
knows I've spent enough time memorizing them."  He shrugged.  
"As for why things work one way in our world and another way
here, I don't know. Perhaps certain things just ARE.  Maybe you
should just accept that and move on from there."
     She sat and thought for some time about what he said,
and once again there was silence between them.
     She sighed.  "I had another one today - a vision.  What
happened between you and Aldara?"
     "She got angry with me and got a little carried away.  
You know how I can have that effect on people,"  he smiled.  
"Don't worry, it's all straightened out now, everything's fine.  I
had one too - when you were upset after you did some psychic
healing.  Congratulations, by the way."
     Scully nodded.  "Yeah.  Well."   She shifted in the chair.  
"I - ummm - spoke to Corvay about the visions.  He seems to
think they're a function of my psi abilities and something
particular about the two of us that he was very coy about.  In any
case, he wasn't surprised that we were having them.  Mulder,
how do you really feel about the visions?"
     He didn't insult her by giving her an easy, quick answer
that he thought she'd find palatable.  He considered the question
for a long time and answered her honestly.  "There are aspects of
it I could do without, "  he admitted.  "Don't get me wrong,
Scully, if anyone has to be in my head, I'd want it to be you,"  he
said hastily.  "But there's things in there I hate looking at, myself.

I hate even more the idea of their being inflicted on you."
     Scully smiled a little.  "That's almost exactly what I said
to Corvay.  It's not so much that what's in there is shocking or
disillusioning or whatever.  We know each other pretty well -
strengths, weaknesses, bad habits, sex lives or lack of them.  That
stuff is minor.  It's more the sense of trespass that bothers me.  
Does that make any sense?"
     "Perfect sense,"  he agreed, nodding.  "But Scully, I
have to tell you.  Mostly I don't mind it, in fact I really kind of
like it.  Today, for the first time, I consciously used this empathic
link we seem to share.  I was concerned about you and I just
reached out and I saw you.  It was amazing."   His voice was soft
with awe and wonder.  "Then I came looking for you and I felt
like," - he looked at her for confirmation - "like you were
reaching out to me.  And it made me feel better.  And it led me
right to you."
     She nodded.   "Yeah, I thought I might need your help
with those guards.  It was interesting, using the link that way,
consciously I mean.  Also somewhat ironic, as I was well on the
way to convincing myself that it didn't exist."  Thoughtfully, she
said, "Corvay said we could learn to control it.   Presumably he
meant to preserve some privacy, or make it a voluntary rather
than an involuntary link."  Scully sighed.  "I guess I feel pretty
much as you do.  I can certainly see where it would come in
handy, as it did today.  I can also see where unless we learn to
control it, that it could be a terrible invasion, too."  She was quiet
for a while, her head back against the chair cushion and her eyes
closed.  "I'm so tired,"  she said simply.
     "We'll deal with this better in the morning after some
rest.  We can both go see Corvay, see what we can do about
controlling this. You go ahead and take the bathroom first."
     Mulder performed what he was beginning to think of as
his nighttime duties - checking on the fire, clearing up,
extinguishing the torches.  He undressed and chose some shorts
from the armoire and pulled them on.  On his way to the
bathroom, he gave Scully a boost into bed.  A few minutes later
he came out, extinguished the last torch, and got into bed.
     For a long time they lay with a wide expanse of bed -
their no man's land - between them.  Consumed and exhausted by
their thoughts, they willed their bodies and minds to relax, for
sleep to come.  Out of nowhere, Mulder thought he heard a tiny
voice, so faint as to be almost inaudible, as if it were coming from
a locked vault.  Lost and alone, the tiny voice pleaded,  "Hold
me."  Did that come from me or from Scully, he wondered.  The
aching need to hold and to be held grew overwhelming.  Now the
voice grew stronger, out from behind barriers.  "Hold me!"  it
insisted, demanding to be heard, demanding to be obeyed.  
     They found each other in their no man's land, and found
their peace, sleeping soundly in each other's arms.

End Chapter 5

===============================================

Chapter Six - Part One

     Time passed. For Mulder and Scully the days were filled
with what had become a familiar routine. Lesson piled upon
lesson, in an almost overwhelming flood of information and skills
to be learned. Yet absorbed as they were by the intensive
training, they still managed to find time to explore the
labyrinthine corridors of the castle, and to make friends among
the varied and colorful residents of Fairwood Castle. They soon
came to like and respect the peoples of the Realm.
      As the flow of days and nights turned into weeks,
Aldara continued to push Scully hard, drilling her for hours on
the practice fields. It seemed to Scully that no sooner had she
mastered one skill, the relentless half-elf would have several more
for her to learn, each increasingly more difficult than the last. The
soft skin of her hands blistered then hardened into tough calluses,
while the untried muscles of her arms and shoulders slowly,
achingly strengthened until the unfamiliar weight of the sword
became a comfortable extension of her hand.
     There was no small sense of triumph when out of a
combination of frustration and fierce determination, she finally
pierced through her instructor's guard for the first time, scraping
Aldara's shoulder with the point of her sword. But even more
satisfying than the increasing confidence in her own abilities, was
the warmth of friendship and understanding that flourished
between the dark half-elf warrior and her human pupil.
     The hours spent in exhausting physical combat training
were balanced by the mental challenge provided by the demands
of Realm-style healing. At first Scully had been deeply skeptical
of Corvay, her scientific training making her suspicious of his
spell and herb-based treatments. But doubt had given way to
astonishment and fascination, as her own unexpected talent
asserted itself. Every sensation of a patient's pain working its way
into her body, each successful probe of her mind into the tissues
and cells, feeling them respond to the force of her will, increased
her desire to learn even more. The disciplines of mind and body
complemented each other, new skills building on the previous
ones, so that by the end of each long day she would find herself
wandering back to the room she shared with Mulder with a
mixed sense of accomplishment and bone-deep exhaustion.
     The long days were no less trying for Fox Mulder.
Reinald drove him with ruthless fervor, trying desperately to
squeeze a lifetime's worth of learning into a few precious weeks.
They progressed in leaps and spurts, interspersed by long hours
of frustration as Mulder struggled valiantly to control the mage-
energy that always seemed so close to bursting out of his
wavering grasp. Learning the history, rules, and long spell chants
was easier, his eidetic memory devoured knowledge at an
extraordinary rate. The problem was in translating the intellectual
understanding into successful performance -  something that can
only come with experience, and both men were only too aware
that their time was running short.
                         - - - - -      

     Fox Mulder rested his hands on the top of the stone wall
and stared out into the garden. So much of it was familiar, green
grass, bright flowers, oak and pine and maple trees. But then, just
out of the corner of his eye, there would be an odd combination
of colors, a strange shape, an anomaly. Sometimes it would be no
more than a purple colored fruit, or a quick glimpse of an elf's
pointed ear. Sometimes it would as unnerving as a gargoyle's
pointed smile and or a troll's clawed hand. Continuous reminders
of just how far from home they were.
     As dusk turned to night, the stars began to twinkle
against the soft black of the sky. Mulder tipped his head back and
stared at the unfamiliar constellations, searching yet again for a
recognizable configuration of little bright dots. There, perhaps, an
overstretched big dipper perhaps, and there just possibly a two-
belted Orion. He shook his head, a feeling of intense home-
sickness sweeping over him. Would they ever find their way
back?
     "Mulder?"  Scully's voice was warm in his ear. He didn't
respond as her footsteps brought her to his side. He hadn't
needed to hear her voice to know she was behind him, by now he
always knew where she was. It was like having a part of himself
walking around separate, and yet not separate. As she came to
stand next to him, her head tilted upwards toward him, her
auburn hair slipping down over her shoulders in a riot of color.
     "The stars are different." Mulder finally angled his head
to look down at her. "Have you noticed that, Scully."
     "Yes," she replied. "But it's the two moons that always
surprises me." Mulder nodded, and turned to stare back up at the
sky. Scully watched him in silence, admiring the way the long,
dark blue tunic graced the lean strength of his body as the wind
stirred up tendrils of his dark hair, which he had been letting
grow out of its FBI-standard short cut. She loved how the sharp
planes and angles of his face were defined by the dim light, the
hollows lining his high cheekbones and the determined thrust of
his jaw. His dark hazel eyes were turned away from her now,
searching the sky for the answers it refused to supply.
     "We'll get home." Scully spoke with a confidence she
didn't feel. He just shrugged his shoulders. No use in going over
it again, the hopeless round of questions without answers. There
was simply no assurance that the vortex would ever open to their
world again, even if Reinald tried to influence it. Apologetic as he
had been, the mage could make no promises that he could direct
the portal successfully; the attempt that had brought them
through had been more chance than expertise. And given that one
portal opening was tuned to the Dark Realm, would it even be
safe to try? Beyond that, there remained the question of whether
they could abandon this Realm to its fate, thereby failing to aid
the people who were quickly becoming their friends. Neither
Mulder or Scully could find any easy solutions.
     "Yes, of course we will." Mulder spoke the words as if
by saying them he could simply make it so. A small voice inside
him said that he would make it work, at least for Scully. He was
going to see her home safe, if he had to die trying.
     As if she had read his thoughts, and perhaps she had,
Scully reached out to grasp his arm. "The operative word there is
'we,' Mulder. No more 'drawing the line' for me. I'll draw my
own, and the first one is that, whatever happens to us, we handle
it together. Leave me and I'll find you and kick your ass, even if I
have to go through ten vortexes to do it."
     Mulder laughed, and placed his hand over hers. "I'd
never even think about it, Scully. I've seen you handle a sword."
A sudden image flashed in front of his eyes from their practice
swordfight just a few days before. This beautiful woman, now
dressed in a flowing blue gown, her hair curled into soft ringlets,
had then been standing triumphant over his prone body, the point
of her sword unerringly aimed at his throat. Her lips raised in a
half-snarl, her blue eyes had glittered down at him from a flushed
and dusty face, her breath coming in short gasps as she recovered
from the fury of the swordplay. His greatest surprise hadn't been
losing to her, which he had done many times before, it had been
the sudden realization that she had never looked more gloriously
lovely, more truly, dominantly herself, than she did in that very
moment, despite all the dirt and sweat and disheveled clothes.
     Of course, that hadn't stopped him from giving her a
literal shock of his own. Closing his eyes in apparent surrender,
he had sent a wave of magical energy up the sword, turning the
metal hotter and hotter until she dropped the glo