The reflection peered back at him from the depths of the crystal cool spring. It looked every bit as forlorned as he, but scattered as a leaf drifted from above to land upon the surface without the lightest of sounds.

A sigh passed those youthful lips, and he brushed back a lock of the longish silvery hair from his eyes as he pushed himself back away from the edge of the pool. His knees folded up to his chest and he clutched his arms around them tightly as though they'd provide him the comfort and sense of belonging he needed.

Tears began to roll down his cheeks one by one, and he looked around the unfamiliar terrain with his eyes; which shifted colors from yellow to brown to red to blue, and back to a fiery red, in subtle shades.

The spring had been his own creation. It was his, just as the earth upon which he sat. The air, so windy when he'd arrived, had become a gentle and refreshing breeze. Even the clouds seemed to adjust themselves to provide him with shade.

He didn't know where he was headed anymore than he knew where he was. Sadly, he tucked his chin against his kneecaps as the thought slid back through his mind; and the lonely darkness inside.

It hadn't been nearly so lonely, before.. In fact until recently, he'd never truly been alone. When he was very young, his parents had found him deep within the forest near the village of D`rath, to the west of Khiran Brook. They'd raised him until he was in his adolescence.

He truly wasn't like the others. Most of his life, he knew nothing but scorn and hateful mistrust. Some of it stemmed from his appearance; the youth was possessed of a sparkling crystal set in the center of his forehead. It was multi-faceted.. circular in dimension. And it stuck out like a sore thumb. But it wasn't the only reason he'd been shunned. No.. Long ago, his adopted parents had disguised the crystal through the clever acquisition of a golden colored circle, sewn into a headband. The circle fit so neatly around the disc, and the headband tied, at the back. He'd been almost proud, to feel normal for a time..

And that's when they'd made themselves known.

One day, he'd been playing with a group of children.. A simple game of tag. He'd quite enjoyed himself.. maybe now he'd find acceptance. But no. It wasn't to be. He blacked out.. felt like something was tugging him into a dark abyss. And when he'd awoken, the others were angry.. those who were standing. They'd claimed to their parents that he'd somehow used sorcery.. tossed them about through the air like rag dolls.

But he knew that he hadn't. Another sigh. He rubbed his forearms to keep warm in his valley in the middle of nowhere.

They'd forever shunned him after that. People feared him and pointed as he'd walked down the street of the village. And some did more than that.. It had happened just after his lessons were finished for the day and he was walking home. A group of older boys had stopped on the path in front of him, and shoved him down. The insults started, then. They had laughed at him.. and he picked himself up off the ground. A fist swung at him.. And again he blacked out.

This time, when he'd reawakened, the boys were picking themselves from the path. Looking over their shoulders at him and running in fear; looking bruised and beat up.

He would have settled for everyone avoiding him permanently, after that. But such was not to be. Boys tend to be vengeful against someone different. Not to mention someone who'd roughed them up, whether he knew how, or not. But they were cowardly too. As he was heading along by himself, they'd jumped out to surprise him. Again, everything went black..

And when he awoke this time, the boys were screaming in fear, trapped beneath an encasement of earth. He'd run.. There was nothing else he -could- do. He didn't know what had happened, but he knew that he'd be blamed. As he wandered, by himself, he stopped to watch some others, playing in unawares of his presence. He remembered wishing -he- could join in. The fun they were having, making their own sort of dwelling in the trees. It wasn't something he could ever have, and he knew it.

A twinge of fear as the memory flickered back to him. The boy falling so very far towards the ground, and his inability to do anything as the child cracked his skull upon a rock below. So much bleeding.. he'd run over, but he knew nothing of lifesaving.

But again, his mind was blanketed by darkness. Only this time, when he recovered, he found himself, still kneeling over the wounded boy.. only the wound had been completely healed.

He'd rushed away from there, as well. It was impossible to explain. At least, at the time, he thought it was.

He shifted against the soft grass, switching his legs behind him, to lay on his stomach with his head hanging over the water. He broke the surface with a cupped hand, and closed his eyes as he drank of the cool liquid. Difficult to believe that the water hadn't existed in this dry place before he'd arrived. Warily, he looked down at his own reflection as the ripples passed, and revealed his pale complexion staring back at him, now stained with the tears that had fallen. He squinched his eyes shut. 'Where are they now?' He thought with remorse.. And a deeper down sense of guilt.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn't even known them until he was nine years of age. The voice in his mind had spoken to him gently during one of his long lonely spells by himself, near the river.

'Peaceful, isn't it?' The voice in his mind had said.

He'd just nodded in agreement to the voice. And then scowled into the water. He'd heard from his father a thousand times that the first sign of madness was when one began to speak to oneself. And one was further gone, when one chose to respond.

'I'm not you, Tach,' It had said, so friendly.. so gentle.

"Then who are you?" He'd spoken aloud.

'I am but a part of you. One of three others.'

He'd furrowed his brow. Now he knew he was crazy. He'd tilted his head towards the water to get a better look into the flowing water.

'My essence is of water.' He'd said. He'd said? No.. the voice. The voice had said that. It had also introduced itself as Sreglon. One of three others.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

The fond memory was broken by the music of a songbird in the dead branch of the tree behind him. He peered up at it, and rolled onto his back, away from the pond. It was beautiful. All of it. The way it stretched it's wings.. flew gracefully through the air.

'I can fly too..' He scowled, thinking to himself. 'But not before.. before, only he could.. Cyreth.'

A smile almost touched the corners of his lips.

Cyreth. Always the practical joker which had made it impossible for him to fit in, during play. For Cyreth always had to play.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

In the days that had followed, Sreglon introduced him to the others, one at a time. There was Sreglon, of Water. He was the kindest, he remembered. Gentler. He kept Tach calm, no matter what.

There was Fyrien of Fire. A braggart, but a fierce warrior. Fyrien controlled the flames, and kept him safe from aggressors. He was fun to talk to, for he was so upbeat. But he could be boring, at times, with his tales of battles Tach had never seen; most likely made up.

Rathor of Earth. He was the calmest influence on Tach. Steady and immoveable, he controlled the very earth. And he, also, kept Tach free from harm. Slow to anger, slow to speak, but unstoppable when enraged. But he was a friend.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

The bird was gone from sight. The wind had begun to pick up again, but Tach lifted a hand to the direction it came from. At once, the neutral calmness which had filled the area before, returned.

He lifted his hands in front of him, still seated on the ground. The sleeves of his shimmering tunic fell down around his arms, making a scuffling noise as his arms passed above and below each other.

The ground which he had focused his eyes upon rumbled a low grating sound, which trembled deep within the earth. A pillar of dirt rose up, and then with his sculpting gestures, shifted and moved to form a statue; That of a man, with long hair, and holding a finely crafted rapier, in a traditional swashbuckler type fighting stance.

He lowered his hands back to either side, spreading the palms against the grass. Falyar Tar`en.

The memory pleased him, as did the man's likeness to the statue he'd just created, straight down to the defiant look to his eyes.

Supreme Air Commander Falyar Tar`en, at one time. Air Commander Falyar Tar`en, when they'd first met, so very long ago...

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

The orcish raiding party had struck swiftly against his village, goblin skreamers raining down fire from above, sending splintered shrapnel of flaming wood in every direction.

People ran about screaming as the orcs tore into the masses. The feeble defenders of the small settlement posed no problems for their war axes. Fyrien had come forth, the crystal in the boy's forehead glimmering a crimson color. His hair and eyes had changed, as well, to the same fiery red. "Aha!" He'd laughed, leaping out with a sabre of flames formed in his hands. He'd retaliated fiercely, hacking into the ranks of the enemy with a fierce battle cry.

A hand held out to one side, and a slew of orcs met their death at the touch of a fiery stream which washed over them, shot from Tach's very flesh, by the warrior, Fyrien.

It had ended with the orcs and goblins completely destroying the village.. and fleeing when the airships had appeared upon the horizon to drive them off. Fyrien had kept him alive.. handed him back control of his own body, from which he'd been looking out of like a caged animal.. Unable to influence his own movements, and relying entirely on the warrior. Not that that was a bad thing. Fyrien had known completely what he was doing.

He'd returned home only to find the bleeding carcasses of his adopted parents strewn across the ground and attracting swarms of flies already. He'd knelt beside his father.. a 10 year old boy with no idea of how to cope. The hand laid upon his shoulder nearly brought about the recurrence of Fyrien's wrath. But he'd stopped him, only through better judgement. His innocent brown eyes turned upwards to first catch a glimpse of the youthful Commander.

The man had taken him under his wing. Even allowed the boy to adventure with him and his group. The rest of them had treated him like he was a commodity.. a weapon. Only Falyar, and the warrior, Gantro, treated him as though he was human.

Two years passed. He'd gone with them on many an adventure, when they were sent by the King to attempt a strike against the Sorceror Gandoran's stronghold. The ship, The Crimson Storm, carried them to the destination. Falyar had stayed aboard the ship to await their successful departure, ready to make a quick withdrawal, if necessary. Tach had begged his way into going with them. Gantro had said he'd stand by him to ensure he remained out of danger.

It was a farce, really. For with the others, he was nearly unstoppable at times. The party fought their way into the inner workings of the castle. And finally met with the evil warlord, Gandoran.

The battle which had ensued was fierce. And for the sake of Khir Khira, they had to win. And yet they lost. Gandoran was simply too powerful.. And he gloated over their fallen selves.. But he didn't finish them. Instead, with a spoken word and an arcane gesture, he scattered the people across the worlds and dimensions. A punishment for being so bold as to stand up against him.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

Another tear slipped down his cheek, but he brushed it away with his sleeve. A swirl with his hand.. several motions with the other. And another column of earth rose up beside the second. This one, he sculpted to look much larger, bald, and wielding a massive battle axe, casually laid across his shoulders. The expression was one of kindness. And of wisdom. The warrior, Gantro. He hadn't seen the likeness in years, and yet he could still remember the man like it had been only the other day. More tears flowed, and he broke down, sobbing.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

Tach had first awoken in the middle of a barren field after the banishment. He was truly alone, save his friends whom he couldn't see. They'd struggled to make their way across the land, finally making it to the edge of a small town. Knewin, he remembered, not so fondly. The first thing that he'd done was to find an inn at which perhaps he could get a meal.

The Dusty Lion. It truly lived up to it's name, with dirt covered floors, and not a clean table in the house. Or a clean plate, for that matter. The innkeeper had given him a meal, kindly enough. And then the bill came. He was forced to work for the man, unable to pay a single copper towards it. The innkeeper was anything but kind towards the twelve year old lad, forcing him to clean, and toil for his wages. Most of which went towards 'room and board'. The room was an old storage room in the back. His bed was a smelly pile of hay. And yet he endured..

But one day, Tach had delivered a meal to a warrior out in the tavern. A large and well muscled form with a shaven head. He'd recognized him instantly, although it took a few moments for the warrior to do likewise, for Tach was now much thinner, and grimey beyond belief. Gantro had seen through that though, to the boy beneath. The dirt smudged crystal in the headband at the center of the lad's forehead was unmistakable. Immediately, he 'convinced' the innkeeper that the lad owed him nothing, and the debt was best left forgotten. The man had agreed, most happily, and sent Tach along his way after a bath and clean pair of clothes.

And the two traveled on. Gantro showed Tach much about surviving in the wilderness, and about finding the mystical portals, hidden throughout the realms, which linked worlds. He convinced the boy that they had to get back home, at all costs.. Find the others.. Or else Gandoran would surely win, in their absence.

He was the best friend Tach had ever known. More than a friend; a father. The man, with his undaunted sense of humor, and love for life. The qualities about him which made him a true knight. But then...

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

He almost couldn't bear to look at the statue as he continued to dwell in the past. Like his mood, the clouds overhead had turned grey, and stormy. Light spatters of rain fell around him, onto the grass. A shiver passed down his spine.. but not from cold...

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

But then one day they'd come upon a house deep within the woods. A world, whose name he couldn't quite remember.. The family had been quite adamant in them getting in before dark. A large family.. a happy family of three sons and three daughters. They'd given them good meals, a clean bath, and a place to stay for the night. But everything had gone wrong at once.

He still didn't know where they'd come from.. but he was awakened by a scream from upstairs. And then his attention was caught by the scraping of claws against the wooden walls of the house; several of them, by the sounds of it.

Gantro was up in a heartbeat, his great axe readied. The family had all gathered in the main room, all screaming something about the undead. The faces which peered at Tach through the window frame most certainly hadn't been filled with life. But unlife.

The warrior brought his axe down upon the wooden wall at the rear, where the attackers hadn't yet reached.. He'd ushered the family through first, then Tach, and himself. They'd taken off through the woods, but it was obvious that they wouldn't get far with the creatures following. Gantro grabbed Tach by the shoulder.. And he pushed a coin of unknown origin into the boy's hand. The warrior's lucky coin. He'd never fought a battle without it.

"Go on!" He had shouted, pushing Tach towards the fleeing family. "Make sure they're safe! I'll meet you at the town gates!" He spoke of the town to which they'd been traveling earlier.

Tach had turned, not wanting to leave.. Fyrien almost insufferable with wanting to get out, held back only by the wisdom of Sreglon. He watched as the warrior let out a shouted war cry, hefted the axe, and disappeared into the darkness. The sound of his laughter could be heard, and the dull snaps as the axe connected.. Tach turned and ran after the family, the coin clutched firmly in his palm.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

He sniffled, his sobs now uncontrollable. His fists balled tightly into his eyes. He remembered what was next.. He'd waited for two weeks beside the gates of the town, surviving only on the food and water brought to him by the guards posted there. He wasn't coming back.. 'Isn't coming back..' Mouthed Tach through the steady fall of rain upon his shoulders, which soaked through the mystical garments he wore.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

He'd traveled on, determined not to have Gantro's death have been in vain. Through many portals, and many years.. And on his 16th year of life, he'd stumbled onto this world.. And a tavern, known as The Silver Blade. That's where he'd met him. He was older, but unmistakably Falyar Tar`en. A joyous reunion. He'd finally found a way back to Khir Khira, for Falyar had a new device for traveling the dimensions, aboard his airship.

Perhaps now he'd find the acceptance he'd been looking for..

But no. He'd ruined it. Ruined it all. The Elementians.. the girl he'd come to know as Diana. The one whom he'd kissed. Ruined by who he is. And who he was. The one known as Moriah.. She'd shown him where he'd come from. Shown him a glimpse of his true parents. It was his home, another world, where every man and woman had a crystal as he had.

The Elementian, Alicia Spears, or Nikki as he'd called her. The one whom he'd run from in terror after accidentally assaulting the other, Rebecca Bracewell. He'd feared he was to be punished.. but she accepted him as well. And even Becky, he'd grown to care about. Until, at once, he'd snapped something inside of him.

WWWW~~~~~~~~~~

It was all so confusing, to him. They'd been silent for almost a year now. He was now seventeen years of age, and wandering the world. All alone. All alone, without even his friends to comfort him. Her insults, Becky's, hurled towards him.. His growing anger.. It had somehow 'merged' all of his friends with his own self, giving him the powers of all four. He'd assaulted her.. she'd forgiven him afterwards, but he could never forgive himself. To himself, he'd killed them. Now he had no one. His eyes closed tightly, but he opened them as quickly. He couldn't bear being so alone.. Not in the darkness.

He pushed himself to his feet and walked away from the spring, through the rain falling from above, which now came down in sheets. He'd walked for no more than a few minutes.. It beat against his face with every step, washing away the tears which still flowed. He stood above the edge of the cliff, looking down. The sadness. The loneliness. The solution.

'Who am I?' He thought to himself.

'Whomever you chose to be.' A familiar voice.

"Sreglon?" He whispered, to the emptiness.

'Yes.' The one word answer.

"But.. where were you? Where are you? Where did you go?" So many questions filled his mind, grief sending more streams of salty tears down his youthful face.

'We never left. Tach, we are, and have always been a part of you.'

"But why couldn't I hear you, for so long? Why did you leave me so alone?"

'I thought it may be best for yourself to stand alone, Tach. To experience who you could be. But you've given up.' He said chidingly, 'It is disappointing.'

"I'm sorry.." He whispered, voice quivering.

'We're here, Tach. You're never alone. Remember that. We have returned.'

The silvery tinge of his hair began to lose it's lustre. It fell dull, and dark. The color of his eyes shifted to brown.. and there it remained. The mystical energy which had seemed to flow through his clothes abruptly stopped, and he stood overlooking the cliff.. The rains ceased. He could sense them again.. All of them.

A smile almost touched his lips. But it didn't. He still -felt- alone. But now it would be different. He'd learned. He wouldn't allow it to return to this; sitting alone in a self made valley dwelling on the past. For there was only the present. He turned away from the sheer precipice.. And walked to gather his things.

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