It had been three days now since Sheila appeared back in camp. Her reappearance had taken less that two hours after she had left with Venger. All but Presto had seemed surprised at her quick return, especially Bobby who had been convinced he had lost his sister for good this time.

Hank had been apologetic and quick to assure her he would work on his tempter and the trust issues. Still, he had to admit there was a small flare of jealousy in him as he found Sheila talking with Presto by the campfire the night before they were to leave for the village of Wabno on their next quest.

"Thank you, Presto, for everything. I couldn’t have gotten through this with out you." Hank heard her say.

"It was my pleasure, Sheila." He patted her arm and nodded to Hank in acknowledgement.

"I’ll leave you two alone now." The magician wandered off in search of Eric who was still nursing some pretty bad bruises from his magical training session earlier in the day.

Hank watched his friend leave. "I was ready to kill him, you know?"

"I know," she whispered. "But I did what I had to do. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know." Hank sat down on a log. "Doesn’t make it any easier, though.

"So now what do we do?"

She bit her lip, thinking of how to put into words all of the emotions running through her head. "We have to work on trust, I think. You have to trust that I’m not going to go running back to Venger.

"And I have to trust that you won’t berate me the next time I make a mistake. Because it’s going to happen, you know."

"Yeah," he swallowed. "I’ll work on the anger thing too. I’m so worried about screwing up as the leader that I think I let it cloud my judgement."

He paused. "Will you ever tell me everything that happened to you in that place? Or even at Zenghai?"

"I don’t think I can, Hank." She refused to meet his eyes. "There are just some things I don’t know if I can tell you about now. Or ever. Both of those places, well… Even Presto doesn’t know or understand everything and he was there, at least in Zenghai.

"You just have to trust that whatever else happened while I was gone… It doesn’t change anything between us. It just changes me.

"Like the baby. That’s my problem to work out, not yours. But I will work it out; we’ll be okay. I promise."

They were silent for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Sheila brought up the subject they were still hesitant to talk about.

"I still love him, you know. That’s probably never going to change." She glanced over at him as saw his jaw muscle tighten. "But I chose you.

"Hank, whatever will be in the future, will be. I can only see part of that future now, but I see it with me by your side, not Venger’s."

He shook his head. "Maybe eventually, I’ll be okay with that, the fact you love him. But not yet."

The ranger reached out and took her hand firmly in his. "But even if I’m not ever okay with it, like you said, it’s my problem. Not yours. And we will be okay. I know it."

Sheila leaned over and rested her head on Hank’s shoulder as they watched the dying embers of the fire. Had they looked up, they would have seen a faint glow coming from the direction of Venger’s palace.

Venger stood alone in the Hall of Twilight, its walls ablaze with soft summer evening light. Only once before had the Hall looked like this, the night Venger had invited Sheila to dinner and made lover to her like a man rather than a monster. He looked around, taking in the beauty of his palace, the palace that never truly had been what it was intended to be.

He had sent everyone one, save for the prisoners in the dungeons. The Orc armies had all been sent off to guard another of his many fortresses. Shadow Demon had been banished for the night with a stern warning not to come anywhere near Venger until the next day. Even Denara had left, though Venger did not know where. She would return he knew, when the time was right. She always did.

Venger climbed the staircase and gazed over the palace floor below. It glittered and glinted in the light, beautiful beyond anything in the Realm. He was, for the first time, truly seeing his palace the way Sheila had seen it that night. His entire palace glowed with the beautiful light, transforming it into a golden, dazzling sight. This was what Sheila had seen and, for the first time, he wanted to look at everything around him through her eyes.

He loved her, truly loved her, more than he had ever though himself capable of. In turn, she had seen through his evil ways and his dark soul. She had seen the good buried man within him. More importantly, she returned his love, even though by the time he realized it, it was too late. It had, he reflected, been too late a long time ago.

Still, he wanted to believe they could one day perhaps be together, even though he knew it was not possible. Even if he could escape the Dark Ones, too much had happened. He had too much to atone for, all of his misdeeds suddenly weighing heavily upon him.

"I love you, Queen Sheila, my little thief," he whispered, though only the walls could hear.

For the first time in Venger’s very long life, he knelt down on the mezzanine while the fading sunlight played across his face, and he wept. He cried for everything he had lost and everything that now would never be. He cried for his unborn child, now dead. He cried for the son he never saw and for Varla, the woman who gave birth to that son. He also cried for the young man he himself had once been, a boy who had somehow lost his way.

Mostly, however, he cried for Sheila, the only woman he knew for certain he would ever love, she who had taught him that there was more than hate and anger and destruction in this world.

Tomorrow, oh Dark Ones, he prayed silently, I can be evil and unfeeling again. For tonight, just allow me to be a man, mourning the loss of his love.

What Venger never knew was that a day’s journey across the Realm, in a campsite by the fabled Mirrored Lakes, a titian haired young thief cried for him as well.