Dae had emphasized that everyone in Bahliefa was expected to find some way to contribute to the community, no matter how small or menial, and it was Davria who found a niche for Ellian. She recommended him for the position of schoolteacher, which had been left empty when the old schoolteacher Belliforth retired and was being temporarily filled by Dae himself. After a moment's perfunctory consideration, one of Dae's mages, the Scryer named Cor, had approved. And so Ellian found himself the teacher of thirty-odd mageborn children -- and he barely out of childhood himself, a mere two years older than the oldest child he taught.

Ellian had serious doubts about his fitness for teaching innocent babes the most important laws of magecraft, but Davria assured him that if anything, his traumatic background in magecraft *further* qualified him to teach. He had learned his lessons at great personal cost, she pointed out, and they were the deeper engrained for that.

That seemed a sketchy argument, but then Davria presented a more compelling second argument. Dae visited the schoolhouse monthly to review the children's progress, correct their errors, and publically reward the most exceptional student. There wasn't a child among them who didn't dream of being praised by the Alcaldel, and even Renelle, the oldest and the most inclined to rebellion, respected Dae's power. How couldn't she, when proof of it sparkled in every blossom, glimmered in the eyes of every wild thing to trot the beaten paths? Dae had taught the children himself before Ellian came along, and he would have no compunctions about dismissing Ellian if he found his work unsatisfactory. If Dae allowed Ellian to remain as schoolteacher, it was because he was worthy, Davria had concluded triumphantly.

/"And you're not about to question *his* judgment, are you?"/ /"Of course not."/

Shivering in the early morning cold, Ellian threw on the heavy overcoat Davria had given him, his breath puffing out in small clouds before him. He tied it with numb fingers and slung his worn leather bag over his shoulder. Ellian's mother had been Sisanwani, an immigrant from the archipelago known as the Sun's Coronet, and Ellian had inherited her sensitivity to cold weather. Getting dressed in the frigid mornings was a pain; Ellian would have loved nothing more than to wallow in his blankets on the couch for a few hours more.

But he had been at his job for a month, and Dae was to visit the schoolhouse today. Nervously, Ellian glanced at himself in the mirror. He looked... cold, red-nosed, cheeks nipped with frost. And he hadn't even gone outside yet. He looked awfully young, too, he noted with a frown, slightly slanted Sisanwani eyes huge and dark, short brown hair tousled from sleep. The thinness that sharpened the delicate bones of his face detracted from that childishness, at least. No child was that gaunt.

He rubbed a fist tiredly across his eyes. Nightmares had made him weary this past month, and more short of temper than he was wont. Some were based on his life -- dreams of alcohol, of blood, of being taunted and mocked and feared and hated; dreams of mage-hunters, of being sought like prey, of trusting nothing; dreams of his parents' corpses, embellished by his gruesome imagination -- while some were new fabrications. Curses on his mind, Ellian thought as he yawned. The last night had been no different; he'd wrested an hour or two of sleep from the grudging eve, and tossed and sweated in his blankets for the rest of the night.

"Nothing like thinking positive, Ellian," he muttered to himself as he pushed open the front door, a wintry blast of air raking icy claws down his skin and making him gasp.

He could never quite get used to being called Mr. Allarme. He had been called various things throughout his life -- El, Ellie, Ellie- boy, Hey You, and Bloody Elliekins were among the highlights -- but Mr. Allarme? Never.

"Mister Allaaaaaaaaaarme!" howled one of the children, a seven-year- old girl named Silstra.

Then again, sometimes he preferred Bloody Elliekins, he thought in exasperation as he walked to the back of the room where he'd put the youngest children. Winnipeg, a bright fourteen-year-old girl whom Ellian had put in charge of that corner, looked at him helplessly.

"SILSTRA HIT ME!" screamed Silstra's seatmate, Guelpo, turning his infuriated little face up at Ellian.

"He's LYING!" Silstra defended hotly.

"Am NOT!" Guelpo shrieked.

"Look, kids, relax," Winnipeg pleaded.

"But she HIT me!" Guelpo wailed.

"Nuh-uh--"

"BE QUIET." Ellian didn't often raise his voice, and the effect was as he desired; the bratlings quieted. He turned to Winnipeg. "What *happened*?"

"They're excited," Winnipeg said with a shrug, spreading her hands. "They're restless. They've been shrieking at each other all afternoon. Just waiting for Dae to come. But neither of them is going to be best student if they keep acting like this," she added warningly to the youngsters, who were giving each other black looks which would have been comical if Ellian wasn't so tired. She glanced back up at Ellian. "What should I do, Mr. Allarme?"

"Is the group too big for you?"

Winnipeg looked a bit hurt. "It's only six kids, Mr. Allarme, Grace has the other little ones. I can handle it. They're just being really badly behaved today."

"I'm behaving good," whispered doe-eyed Verastra, dressed prettily in a spotless white dress with a hood edged with fur. Her mother had been a seamstress in northern Rhighelza and worked her nimble fingers to the bone to keep her offspring well-costumed.

"Yes, you are." Winnipeg patted the little girl's sleek black curls. Ellian could see Silstra -- a rough-and-tumble Irlesi street- cleaner's child -- make a face at Verastra. Verastra's impossibly wide blue eyes widened further, and her lower lip began to tremble.

"Storm coming," Ellian muttered. "Take care of it, Winni."

Winnipeg immediately saw what he was talking about. "Vera -- oh, Vera, baby..."

Silstra kicked her feet and sighed, halfheartedly scribbling a few more words in her notebook.

Ellian knelt by her for a moment, intending to say something kind, though unsure what, when he heard the door open and felt a cold gust of wind at his back. Immediately the class erupted in squeals, and Silstra sat straight up, brightening. "Dae, DAE! He's here!" Even the tears trembling on Verastra's lashes receded, giving way to an awed smile.

The Alcaldel of Bahliefa grinned at the children charmingly and shut the door behind him. "Hello, everyone."

Ellian started, straightened at once, ran a trembling hand through his short hair, and jammed his hands in his coat pockets. "Ah -- Dae," he managed, and was it his imagination, or had his low tenor just ratcheted up an octave? "You're here." Ellian wasn't sure whether he was smiling or whether his cheek muscles were just spasmodically twitching.

Dae cocked an ironic eyebrow at him. "Ever observant, our Mr. Allarme." Ellian's mind was, as it happened, churning out observations frenetically. The smirk on Dae's lips, the other man's long golden hair bound in a braid which gleamed down his chest, dressed in his customary leather jerkin -- and only that? Dae had to be *freezing* --

"DaedaedaedaeDAE!" Amongst all the noise and excitement, a small rocket launched itself at Dae's knees, managing to knock the Alcaldel backwards almost a foot. Dae looked a bit taken by surprise. A bit.

"Uriel?" he inquired mildly, swaying slightly as the small figure hugged his knees. "Could you detach yourself from me, please?"

Ellian cringed with embarrassment. Uriel was easily the most hyperactive, easily distracted child in the class, a six-year-old Engladessan boy with hazel eyes and pale blonde hair. "Uriel," Ellian grated out, "come over here."

"Daaaaaaaaeeee!" Uriel yowled happily. "Come see my picture!"

Dae smiled wryly at Ellian and mouthed, 'Relax,' as he allowed Uriel to drag him off.

Ellian reflected on his sudden extreme dislike of children as he began to move from section to section of them to make sure their current progress wouldn't humiliate him before the Alcaldel's eyes.

The student of the month was Silstra, whose dark grey eyes had filled with tears when Dae had called her up and presented her with the small red badge. Unable to speak, the little girl had given Dae an enormous hug, which Dae returned just as tightly. Ellian had to smile to see Silstra so buoyed by the honor, and she strode out like the queen of the world when all of the children were dismissed.

Dae stayed behind, of course, and Ellian felt his mouth go dry as Dae sat down at Ellian's desk. It would be Ellian's first interview after taking this post in the community, his first time truly face-to-face with Dae in over a month. Ellian knew he didn't have to be nervous. He was anyway.

"So," Dae said, leaning back in the chair with his fingers steepled, smiling that charming smile of his. "How do you like your new job?"

"It's all right," Ellian said, standing awkwardly with his hands shoved into his pockets. He caught himself staring at the floorboards and raised his head to look Dae in the eyes, but that intense violet unnerved him, and he ducked his head again, cheeks hot. "I mean, I wouldn't have chosen it myself, but it's fairly simple, I mean, they're children and all. And there are amusing moments, I guess. But I --" Ellian cut himself off. This was a good job, and he mustn't say anything that would seem ungrateful.

"Yes?" Dae asked gently.

"Nothing."

Dae raised an elegant eyebrow. "Are you lying to me, Ellian?" he inquired mildly. The way he said it, Ellian knew damn well the answer had better be no.

"I just wanted to say that I feel my original objection still holds," Ellian said in a tiny voice. "But I am very grateful to Davria for finding me this job, and to you for allowing me the chance to enter Bahliefa in the first place."

"Your original objection," Dae echoed. He glanced at Ellian piercingly. "You mean, that you weren't fit to teach innocent children basic magecraft because you were both too young and a Blood mage?"

"Not because I'm a Blood mage," Ellian protested timidly. "Because I was never formally taught. I learned what I did on my own out of necessity. And I'm not so sure I've done such a splendid job teaching myself, either."

"Your Shields are quite strong," Dae commented. "Stronger than Ferrin's. Stronger than Nagio's."

"They've had to be." Ellian's palms were sweating. Dae was looking at him, and Ellian could sense his thoughtfulness.

"So if I said I had another job for you, you would take it?" Dae finally said.

"What?"

Dae stood up. Dae was so much taller than he was, Ellian thought to himself. Or was he? Was it just an aura Dae projected, an aura of confidence, efficiency, skill, everything Ellian didn't have? Either way, Ellian felt like an ant in the blonde man's shadow. Dae smiled, but Ellian wasn't much reassured. "Don't worry, Ellian. I'll explain to you later. For now, please do me the favor of continuing in this job for a little while? Despite what you think, you're not half-bad at simplifying things for the little ones, and your experience is priceless. I'll need a little time to look for someone else, since old Belliforth retired and I really can't continue to take on that burden."

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Ellian blurted out. "Don't take my childish complaining seriously. If you don't have anyone else, if you need me to stay here, I really don't have a problem with it."

"I'm not going to skin and eat you, Ellian," Dae laughed. "Why are you kissing my ass so hard? You don't enjoy the job, and I have a better one to offer you. Town council's tonight. Stay behind afterwards, and I'll have a chat with you."

Ellian knew his skin had to be glowing with embarassment. "I'm sorry, Dae."

"Don't be sorry," Dae advised. He walked towards the door, but before leaving, he tossed Ellian an amused look over his shoulder. "Just be there tonight."

The blast of winter wind as Dae left the schoolhouse made Ellian suck his breath in. A shudder wracked his body, but Ellian pushed the thought of it out of his mind -- he'd gotten quite good at that this past year -- and proceeded to tidy up the schoolhouse.

"I don't want to go to the bloody town council meeting," Ellian complained. He was huddled on a rug in front of the fireplace as close to the flames as he dared. "If Dae wants me to go, he can come here personally and drag me out there."

Davria put her hands on her hips. "Ellian Allarme, if Dae *explicitly* requested that you meet him after the town council, how *dare* you even *suggest* that you won't make it? I would be there in an instant if Dae asked!"

"That's because you fancy him," Ellian muttered. But with a sigh, he forced himself to get up, burying his fingers in the overlong sleeves of his sheeps'-wool sweater. The sweater, Four bless it, kept him warm and gave his restless hands something to do.

"I do not fancy Dae," Davria said indignantly. "He's the Alcaldel!"

Ellian gave her a small half-smile. "But men in power are so alluring."

Davria's mouth dropped. "Ellian!"

"And he has such beautiful eyes, doesn't he?"

Davria was blushing bright red. "Ellian, shut up right now!"

"And such long hair," Ellian continued, his smile widening. "Sunlight gold, as they say. Doesn't it look soft? Wouldn't it feel divine to run your fingers through it, to feel the long strands against your flushed skin --"

"You are an indecent young man!" Davria cried, shaking with laughter. She grabbed her heavy cape from the rack next to the entrance and pulled the hood over her head. "Now come on and let's go to the council."

"Now come on and blah blah blah," Ellian said with a face, but he grabbed his own cape and followed her out of the door.

This town council would be different from the last. Ellian could sense that from the start. For one thing, Dae was already up at the platform, standing straight-backed with his feet firmly apart and his hands clasped before him. For another, there were four men standing behind him, and behind them were four people cast in deep shadow. The four men were wearing badly damaged clothing -- Ellian couldn't even imagine how cold they must have been, but each of them stood straight and tall, suppressed smiles twitching at the corners of their lips. They looked tired, shifting their body weight from foot to foot, but their heads were held high. Of the people cast in shadow, Ellian could tell nothing.

The citizens of Bahliefa were already reacting, though nothing had been said; several women were crying, and the crowd was murmuring excitedly.

"Bahliefa," said Dae after several, excruciating moments. "Most especially at the beginning of this council, I thank the brave men behind me: Master Ervenwold of Engladess; Signori Kirlign of Liria; Setrono Treno of Irlesa; and Zvenze Drago of Rhighelza." Applause burst out, during which Dae turned around and bowed deeply to the men, his braid brushing against the floor of the platform. Then he turned to face the audience again. "But it is not my thanks these men sought, not my respect or regard. It is not your thanks, not the thanks of the gods. They fought for the good of mages everywhere; for the wellbeing of this village, and of those they love in it. Ladies and gentlemen, wives and husbands, friends and children, your warriors have returned to you."

He had to pause here, because the roar was too overwhelming. After a short wait, Dae held up his hand. The crowd fell silent as though Dae had cut a string. "Not only have these brave warriors blooded themselves in battle for our sake, but, struggling valiantly against all odds of survival and discovery, they have brought us four new arrivals, bringing this town's population to 280."

Dae graciously allowed a moment of tumultous applause, then continued. "Zvenze Drago was the coordinator of this expedition against the nulls. Drago, would you please come to the platform and tell us what happened?" He smiled knowingly at Drago. "I'm sure your wife and child await the news anxiously."

The man, Drago, chuckled as he came to the front of the platform. He was a tall man, tanned from years of hard labor, his face deeply lined. He seemed also deeply tired, but for a moment as he scanned the crowd, he smiled, and his face brightened. Ellian could catch a glimpse of Verastra in the crowd, held in her mother's arms, screaming the word 'Daddy' over and over. "Hello, my friends," Drago said in a thick Rhighelzan accent. "I am so glad to see home again, I cannot explain. Because this place is more home to me than Svesne. Especial when this cold!" The crowd chuckled with him, and Drago grew serious. "But what I see in the world make me love Bahliefa more. It is safe place for my wife and daughter. They are mage. I am mage. We are like all of you. And we are not safe. Not anywhere.

"My friends and I, we travel much. We pass through Amasuel, Werkogtia, R.C., Engladess. Situation bad everywhere. We end up fight over Feld in Virengrai. Feld is little city with many small houses and many arrogant mean people. Little nulls come out of houses, try to bring us down, but we fight above them, we send fire and lightning and destroy they house, we send them running through streets." Drago's friendly face had hardened. Ellian stared at the man, his arms limp at his sides. It couldn't be. "We send them running through streets like they send me running. Like they send my beautiful wife running. We make them cry, like my little daughter cry. We give message: we mages, we are not fools, we are not weak, we do not sit like drunken bear and wait to be spear by mage-killer. No. We battle." Drago gave a harsh laugh. "And if mages not so terrify, if Virengrai not drive mage out and kill mage and make magic so bad thing, even baby can kill us, I sure. I am no great fighter. But for this cause I am full of fire. I can never forget my little daughter cry when my house is burned to ground. I can never forget my wife come sick with snow-fever when we try come to Bahliefa." Drago glanced at Dae. "And I can never forget Dae, who make Bahliefa, so my family can sleep in peace. So many things I never can forget. I am ignorant man, but I am old, and I know things. I hear the tale of Berrinel. I hear the tale of Saher and Daes-morn. So sad story, so sad mistakes. I hear how Virengrai is scare. And people scare are people who kill. Well, I am scare. I am angry, and I am scare, and I am mage. Never again, my friends, do I leave my family to be destroy by null. Never."

Drago stepped back, his worn face still fierce with the passion of his speech. There was a moment of respectful silence before Verastra howled, "Daddy!" The tension of the crowd broke, and they began to applaud and shout in approval until the trees echoed with it. Ellian's heart was beating almost painfully hard, and he felt weak. No. The Renegades could not have been sent by Dae from Bahliefa. It was impossible. Dae came forward again. "You heard it from one of your own, mages!" he cried loudly. "You heard it from your own!"

Yes, thought Ellian in response as the crowd radiated joy all around him. Yes, Dae, I have. His fingers buried themselves in the warm wool of his sweater. So you sent the men who destroyed my hometown, who sent me running through city after city looking for shelter. So you are the man who sends the Renegades, the man who ordered your mages to destroy my childhood. No, Dae. I came here looking for something better. Not bloodthirst. Not pity stories. Not excuses. Not war. Four, no. Please, no....

"I will be taking requests for volunteers on the next expedition for the next two months," Dae announced. The crowd quieted. "As you all know, I will personally train the four to ten people whom I select as suitable for such an important mission. Remember that there is always a risk that you may not come home alive, and that if you do make it to your destination and back, you have a solemn duty as a mage yourself to rescue any refugee mage that you may happen upon. One per person, please, as we have limited means and space here." He paused and sighed, closing his eyes, and when he opened them again, even Ellian in the back could see the sorrow on Dae's face. "For every mage killed, a null must die. It is simple, natural law, and we are being kind. We do not torture the nulls before we kill them, as nulls have done for thousands of years before killing us without batting an eye. I believe the last count of mages killed by nulls since the time of Berrinel is one hundred sixty five million. I do not know how many died in torture and interrogation chambers." Dae shook his head. "The hypocrisy of those who claim to speak on behalf of the gods, ah, how the Virengrese infuriate me... thank you, Zvenze Drago, for striking Virengrai, the heart of all this evil." Drago nodded solemnly, and Dae said, offering the quiet crowd a small smile, "Now, would you four noble men please introduce the mages you have brought to our humble town? Zvenze Drago, you first."

Proudly, Drago stepped forward, leading by the elbow the refugee he had brought with him. Of all the shocks Ellian had received in this council session alone, this was one of the greatest, for the refugee was his greatest friend and dearest mentor, the man who had told him about Bahliefa. It was Davria's younger brother, Laith.