ForevaXena's FanFic . . .

A Few Turns More . . .

by Ellianora

Disclaimer: The characters here are my own and as such the property of moi. Though the two main characters do resemble a pair we all know and love there are some differences.

Violence: Yes violence is here and it can get graphic, close to PG-13 I would say, so be warned.

Sex: A little more then hugging and kissing but not much, between two women who love and care for each other very much.

Feedback: Always. I love to hear from folks who read my stories. Either good or bad. I would like to take the time here to thank all those who wrote me and told me how much they enjoyed 'Turn of the Wheel' and were hoping for a sequel. Here it is:)

Chapter 9

Censor rubbed his throbbing temples as he entered the posh bedchamber at the Inn. It had taken him less then a day to traverse the Undead Plains, reaching the very outskirts of the city of Glaland. Tomorrow, he would arrive in the capitol city triumphant.

There was no possible way Venom and her cohorts could have possibly survived. Even if they did, what could they possibly do against him? He had the Fire Ruby. If only his head wasn't throbbing so badly, he might enjoy his victory more.

He had taken the powder prescribed by the local healer though it did little to reduce the pain. The handsome prince collapsed onto the down filled mattress of his bed staring up at the ceiling.

Censor felt the strength ebbing from his body as he lay their closing his eyes in utter exhaustion from his malady.

A thin mist filled his mind briefly as he sank into blessed unconsciousness. The mist subsided revealing a beautiful garden filled with sweet smelling flowers. Lounging near a pool were three of the most lovely scantily clad women he had ever had the pleasure of viewing.

"What are you doing here?" Censor inquired, approaching the woman who seemed to be enticing him forward.

"We are here for you good prince," one of them replied in a sultry voice. She wrapped her bare arms around his waist pulling him towards them. Another began to nibble upon his neck. The third started to lovingly massage his temples.

"If this is a dream," Censor sighed, " I pray to all the deities I never awaken."

"We are yours," the woman whispered nibbling upon his ear. "We will be yours for all eternity. You need not concern yourself with anything ever again."

The contented smile upon his face turned into a snarl as he pushed the women aside jumping to his feet.

"What is wrong my prince?" One of them exclaimed. Have we offended you?"

"The pain in my head. The sudden dream of seduction," Censor snapped. "I am not a fool whoever you are. I will not be controlled quite so easily."

"You reject us," the woman glared at him.

"I reject your attempt to seduce me into a state of idle complacency." Censor shot back. "I am Censor, Prince Regent of Archeon and will not be anyone's puppet."

The women howled as they melded into one gigantic demon with flames leaping from her skin. The tranquil garden was reduced to cinders, from the ravenous flames erupting from the demons form.

"Have care arrogant Prince," the being warned. "You do not know who you are dealing with."

Censor could feel the fire burning away his flesh. He knew this couldn't be real it had to be a dream, a play in his mind. "Do your worst fiend," Censor grimaced. "I wont be controlled.

"If you relax you will get what you wish," the being promised. "And you will be able to enjoy these pleasures within the confines of your mind."

"And how do I trust you," Censor challenged dropping to his knees. "My life is my own."

The scene changed from a raging inferno to a cold desolate wasteland. The being changed to a short shriveled figure with mottled diseased looking skin. The creature reached out its corrupted claws, touching him on the shoulder. His flesh erupted into boils and other disfiguring apparitions.

"I-Is this the best you can do?" Censor stated between chattering teeth.

"I can keep this torture continuing for an eternity."

"And what will that gain you?" Censor demanded. "You will be no closer to your goal then you were when I found you in the ruins of Jaroon."

Suddenly the landscape shifted back to the thin mist it had been at the onset. A single blurry crimson figure stood before him. Censor smiled to himself, he had hit upon the correct answer, now if the being was alive and in his mind, in its confused state, certain doors should be open, doors that would provide useful information.

"Azantre," Censor said deliberately. "You are known as Azantre." There was other information that Censor couldn't even begin to understand, but the name was enough to place his foe off-balance.

"You are more clever then my last host," Azantre admitted.

"He was a mere mage," Censor sneered. "I am more."

"You can't defeat me," Azantre stated. "The power you seek is myself."

"And you can't wield this power without the aid of my shell," the prince regent countered. "Since we both want something I propose a bargain."

"Such as?"

"I will allow you to use my body while you give me access to your magikal powers?" Censor suggested.

"I can read your mind as well Censor," Azantre added suspiciously. "I know what has happened to your other allies.

"And I can read yours," Censor countered. "I know how you betrayed your own brethren. Can you think of a better partnership for ones such as we?

"We both can read each others minds in this state," Azantre deduced.

"So neither of us need worry about the other hatching some plot to trick the other." Censor concluded.

"I must admit your proposal does have merit."

"It is far better then continuing the senseless battle, wasting our own time and resources." Censor advised.

The figure nodded in agreement walking towards the Prince regent, entering into his physical form. He felt a sudden surge of power throughout his body.

Lying upon the soft bed, Censor/Azantre smiled to himself. "We are one," they announced in eerie unison.

****

Janus was scarcely able to take up his robe when the frantic knock aroused him from a deep slumber. He opened the door to see the long hawkish face of the emperor's chief advisor. The man's long gray hair hung loosely about his shoulders, rather then bound in a tight braid, as was his custom.

"What is wrong Feran?" Janus asked, rubbing the remaining sleep from his bleary brown eyes.

"Your father, the Emperor Thereon, has demanded your presence immediately." He informed him, grabbing the sleeve of his robe.
"I will be dressed in a few minutes," Janus replied. He attempted to close the door only to have it shoved open by the gaunt but strong man. In his youth, Feran had ridden at his father's right hand side during the days of conquest. The aged man had not lost any of his old strength or fire.

"Your father insisted I fetch you with all haste." Feran explained. Janus sighed; it was obvious he was determined to carry out the orders of his liege.

"Lead the way," Janus stated, following the man already hurrying through the long hallway of pristine marble.

The entered the bright blue section of the palace, designated the private quarters of the Emperor. It had been sometime since he had entered this particular area, not since his mother had died some three plantings ago.

The aged wizard Premarian met them at the vast golden bejeweled door of the Emperors chambers. His flowing purple robe seemed to barely touch the floor as he glided towards them. Unlike Feran and himself, the mage was immaculate with every hair in place.

What is this about?" Janus asked, now becoming concerned. For his father to summon the court mage and chief advisor this must be a matter of great importance.

"I have no idea?" Primerian admitted. "I was summoned just as you were. He bade me not enter till the two of you arrived.

"Well we are all here," Feran observed. "It is time to see what the Emperor finds so urgent this late at night." The others nodded in agreement, as the advisor rapped upon the chamber door.

"Enter," An old tired voice answered.

Janus's heart sank upon entering the chamber. He had never been terribly close to his father, but to see the once strong man now. The Emperor resembled a corpse rather then the mighty robust warrior ruler he had once been. He could not help but feel pity for him.
"Approach me," Thereon commanded with a portion of his old authority in a cracked voice.

"I will summon a healer," Feran stated, staring at the wasted form of his liege.

"I am dying friend," Thereon smiled tiredly. "Unfortunately I am not going to die soon enough."

"Pardon father?" Janus queried, approaching the bed.

"I have not treated you well son," Thereon confessed. "You deserved much better respect then you have been allotted."

"I understand sir," Janus said obediently. "You have always been a strong man. It is well known I am hardly skilled in arms, nor hardly the strongest of men."

"Those things don't make a good ruler," Thereon explained. "It took me far too many plantings to realize that."

"Sire you need to rest," Feran urged. "Your other son will be here tomorrow. Surely you will wish to greet him."

"I know," Thereon growled. "He shall be arriving and promises to bring a great prize. As usual those who accompanied him have died. His arrival is what as prompted my decision and this late night meeting."

"Now I fail to understand the purpose of this gathering," Primerian confessed.

"Really mage," Thereon arched an eyebrow. "I would think you of all would have guessed by now."

Primerian stared into the hard gray eyes of the emperor. Suddenly the revelation to what he was leading to dawned upon the mage. "By the magikal essence of Mathyr no!" Primerian exclaimed.

"I can't allow censor to take control of Archeon," Thereon stated determinedly.

"You can't," Feran exclaimed, it goes against any precedence established by your own decree.

They are my laws I can change them," Thereon snapped. "At any rate, that is why we must do this now before Censor arrives, then it may be too late."

"But the magikal symbol of authority will not pass till your death," Janus said, the reality to what was occurring dawning upon him. To confirm his suspicions, Thereon displayed the long dagger he had hidden beneath the fine silken blankets.

"You can't mean to kill yourself," Janus cried stumbling backwards. "I wont allow it."

"Nor I," Feran added.

"Neither of you can stop me," Thereon stated. "Besides I am already dying, I imagine I have but a few days left. Someone has been slowly poisoning me. I suspected so for quite awhile, when it was confirmed it was far too late to counteract the lethal dose."

"Who would do such a thing," Janus shouted, his youthful face twisted in rage.

"It doesn't matter now," Thereon replied. "Only know that I did love you son, and have always been proud of you even if I didn't display it properly."

"Father," Janus sobbed, throwing himself on his father's bed.

"It is a great responsibility, Thereon continued, "placing a shaking hand upon his son's shoulder. However, I am certain you are up to the challenge. For now, I need you to be strong."

Janus looked up into the eyes of the aged weary man. He didn't like it, but he realized his father was correct. This was the only way. "I will not fail you sir," Janus announced with an air of strong conviction.

"I wont allow this travesty to continue," Feran exclaimed, attempting to take possession of the dagger.

Janus grabbed the man's arm, shoving him back with a strength born of confidence. "This is the wish of the Emperor," he declared.

"He is a good choice," Primerian whispered to Thereon.

"I know," Thereon replied. "I realize how much this grates upon you friend." He told Feran. I wanted you here as a witness and as my closest and oldest friend. I will understand if you wish to leave."

"I will stay," Feran glared sullenly, "though I will not condone this procedure."

"No one is asking you too," Thereon stated. "Now are the rest of you ready?" Thereon asked, placing the dagger over his heart.

Janus nodded, forcing back the tears welling up inside. He wanted to appear strong for his father. He could mourn his loss later in private. Primerian also nodded as he prepared the spell of transference.

Closing his eyes Thereon plunged the dagger into the vital organ. The instant of his death Primerian cast the spell. The symbol on his left hand glowed suddenly as it vanished. "Hold out your left hand," Primerian ordered Janus.

Janus obeyed lifting his left hand up as the arch-mage pointed in his direction. The young prince let out a sudden howl as his hand burst into flame. The pain was nearly unbearable but Janus refused to fall, he would be strong. The fire slowly subsided revealing the black symbol of the five pointed star surrounded by a double ring circle.

"The symbol protects you from magikal charms and mental controls." Primerian informed him.

"And blocks mage types from reading my thoughts," Janus concluded with a weak smile. "I am aware of the powers of the symbols, as well as the responsibility."

"What is your wish…my Emperor," Feran said, spitting out each word as if it was foul tasting fruit.

"I know you disapprove of me, Janus observed.

"It is not my place to question things," Feran replied, lowering his eyes.

"There you are correct," Janus stated, with a sudden hardness not herd in his voice before. "Nonetheless, I hope we can work together for the good of all. For now, I wish proper arrangements be made of for my father's ascension service. It should be the grandest seen by any in all of Iamoore. He was a great man in his own right."

"Yes sire," Feran bowed. "Will there be anything else?"

"I also want a truth finding circle created to question those of the palace." Janus ordered.

"Pardon sire?" Feran exclaimed in surprise.

"My father was poisoned," Janus explained. "Such a crime will not go unpunished."

"Assuming what your father said is true," Feran began, hesitantly. "Such a thing could scandalize the court. There is no telling how far up in the court this conspiracy may be."

" I have suspicions," Janus stated. "We proceed cautiously and handle the matter as internally if possible." He turned narrow his eyes as he stared at the aged advisor. "Are there any further concerns?"

"None…sire," Feran cast his eyes down to the floor.

"Good," Janus nodded, turning to leave. "I will remain in my current quarters, till the formal ceremony can be arranged."

"Will there be anything else sire?" Primerian inquired, bowing respectfully.

"No," Janus responded. "Only make sure the truth-finding circle is established as quickly as possible." Janus departed the room, marching down the hall, his eyes set straight ahead. He dearly wanted to visit Livenia, but that would need to wait for a few more days. Now, there was work to be done. The new Emperor was determined the perpetrator of this travesty would pay, even if the trail led to the royal family itself.

*****

Censor awoke with a jolt as the soft buzzing began from his private communication crystal. From the signature sound, he knew it was from his accomplice in the palace.

Rising from his bed, he activated the crystal, letting the mist clear to reveal the face of Feran, chief advisor to the Emperor.

"This had better be important," Censor growled. "I have had a long night."

"I beg your pardon my highness," Feran began respectfully, "but your father has taken extreme measures."

"How so?"

"He killed himself and…"

"And what?" Censor could feel a knot forming in his stomach.

"H-He transferred the seal of authority over to your brother, Janus."

"He what!?" Censor boomed, his gray eyes flashing with unbridled rage.

"I fear so sire." Feran confessed.

"And you let this happen," Censor raged, pacing back and forth.

"Calm down Prince," Azantre suggested. "It does no good to rant and rave."

"Don't tell me to remain calm," Censor shot back.

"Pardon sire?" Feran asked, confused by the sudden outburst.

"Careful Censor," Azantre warned. "You must get used to mind speech." The Prince nodded in agreement.

"I assure you sire," Feran continued. "There was nothing I could do. He had the arch-mage Primerian there overseeing the transfer. Believe me, I fully support all your polices for a strong Archeon."

"I know," Censor smiled. "That is why you agreed to help remove my father from the throne.

"His recent policies and view of tolerance towards elves was ruining the structure and purity of Archeon society we had established," Feran pronounced.

"I know," Censor nodded. "That is the only reason you agreed to betray my father."

"It was not an easy decision," Feran said defensively. "Though now there is even more reason for concern."

"Why is that?" Censor asked, rubbing his throbbing temple.

"Your brother is determined to unearth the conspiracy. He intends to use the Circle of Truth."

Censor spun about at this sudden revelation. The circle was comprised of several mages using various mind probing techniques and divination tools to unearth any plots. "He wouldn't use that on you….or myself." Censor muttered.

"He claims he will pursue this matter wherever it may lead," Feran informed him nervously.

"Tell them I will be delayed," Censor continued thoughtfully.

"But your father's ascension ceremony will be tomorrow." Feran reminded him.

"Offer my apologies," Censor decided. "Another matter as come up which requires my attention. I am after all, one of the greatest heroes of Archeon."

"Yes sire," Feran acknowledged, fading away into the mist of the crystal.

"An obstacle but not an surmountable one," Azantre comforted him. "We may even turn this to our advantage."

"How so?" Censor snapped. "With my brother on the throne now, there is no way we can continue with our plans."

"Sometimes it is better, to control he who rules then do so yourself."

"What do you mean?" censor asked.

"Consider a fine carriage," Azantre suggested, "being pulled by the finest white horses in the most exquisite of tack. All eyes are on the splendid mounts, but it is the small man holding the reins who is the master."

"My brother now has the symbol of Archeon on his hand," Censor reminded his ally. "Even we are unable to control his mind, now."

"There are other ways get a person, especially one has caring as your brother to do as we wish. I am certain he has a weakness. I see one in your mind now."

Censor searched his own thoughts, till he arrived at the obvious conclusion." The commoner Livenia," Censor said with an evil leer.

"Exactly," Azantre mentally nodded in approval. "If we have her then I am certain your brother will do whatever we ask."

"Why?"

"He is in love," Azantre stated matter-of-factly. "Its been my experience this is your species greatest weakness, makes you easy to manipulate."

"We can use Mantis to capture the little merchant," Censor suggested, "provided she is still alive."

"She is." Azantre continued. "In the very city of Archeon. I am entering her mind, such a deliciously twisted one too. It seems she failed in her mission and was defeated by the rogue Ellianora Bladedancer."

"Can you sense Venom?" Censor asked suddenly.

"No," Azantre replied hurriedly.

"Then perhaps we should return for that sword of hers?"

"Leave the sword alone!" Azantre ordered.

"As you wish," Censor smiled, so there was something this being feared after all.

"I never admitted fear," Azantre corrected him. "And I am more adept at mind searching then you are."

"I understand," Censor smiled. "I suppose we should concentrate on the situation at hand and contact Mantis." Azantre nodded in agreement.

****

Censor made his way through the wide hall leading to the throne room of the mighty Archeon Empire. Flanked on either side were the Palace guards, their faces looking as if they were comprised of the same hard marble as the polished walls. The Prince tightened his grip upon the gold staff in his hand with the large ruby set on its tip.

The guards at the door opened the massive jeweled portals, permitting his access to the great room. Upon a tiered dais sat his younger brother upon the great Emerald Throne, the throne that should rightfully be his.

"Careful Prince," Azantre whispered in his mind. "Do not let your ego ruin or plan."

"I wont," Censor mentally assured the being. Censor had spent the last few days perfecting the use of mind speech, among other preparations for this encounter.

He gave a sigh of relief noticing the mage Primerian was absent from the gathering. Not that it would matter with the power of Azantre. Censor caught sight of Feran standing by his brother's side. Good, that would make this much easier.

"You missed our father's ascension," Janus glared disapprovingly down at his older sibling.

"My apologies," Censor bowed. "Matters came up, which required my immediate attention."

"Fortunately, you are here in time for the truth finding circle." Janus added sternly.

"We don't think that will be necessary," Censor smiled.

"What do you mean we?" Janus challenged.

"Not important… your majesty."

"I take it you don't believe our father was murdered, despite his own words." Janus asked, nearly rising out of his seat.

"No he was murdered." Censor agreed. Feran was the one who slipped him the poison."

"At your suggestion!" Feran cried, leaping down from the tier.

At this point Censor waved the golden staff about the room. The eyes of the guards in the room, misted over. They would only see what Censor and his ally wished. "I must confess I had a small part in all of this." Censor remarked casually. It was my plan truthfully."

"What are you doing!" Janus exclaimed jumping to his feet.

"Confessing," Censor replied, strolling over to a table of fruit. He inspected each piece, finally deciding on a plump one. "Not that it matters." Censor added, taking a small bite.

"Guards arrest him!" Janus ordered.

"They can't hear you," Censor snickered. "They will only see what we want them to see."

"Feran, are you involved in any of this," Janus accused.

"I swear to you I have no idea what he is talking about," Feran vowed.

"Please," Censor scoffed. "Do you think I would have a simple minded idiot like that as anymore then a lackey. He was useful instrument in getting rid of that doddering fool." Feran stood dumbstruck at the Prince's cruel words. He had used him. Feran had helped assassinate his best friend. Feran dropped to his knees, defeated. He had been a pawn, nothing more.

"A little late for guilt," Censor mocked. "Don't despair little brother," Censor continued sympathetically. "Our father was murdered, by an elven conspiracy."

"That's insane!"

"You will state you uncovered a plot to undermine the Archeon Empire," Censor continued ignoring the sudden outburst. "Being a good monarch you have instigated the following measures to safeguard the citizens of Archeon from such a diabolical foe."

Censor handed him a rolled up scroll. Janus's soft brown eyes were wide with horror as he read the edict. "I won't sign this." He gasped. "I still have the sigil, you can't control my mind and I will die before I am party of such an atrocity."

"Such determination," Censor snickered. The prince Regent pointed the ruby in front of the Emperor, allowing a small portal to open.
Presently the visage of a young woman with Light brown hair wearing light green leathers came into view. "About time," she snapped. "I was falling asleep waiting for you."

"Apologies," Censor said cordially. "Is our guest comfortable?"

"I have her all trussed up an ready," Mantis tittered. "I've everything ready." The scene panned over to the left. Janus gasped in horror as he saw Livonia, bound in a chair next to a hot brazier with several instruments protruding from it.

"Don't do anything this slug wants." She stated defiantly.

"Such bravery," Censor applauded. "Now I wonder how resilient you will be once my accomplice starts her work." Censor waved his hand, giving Mantis permission to proceed, which she did with a great deal of exuberance.

"Now lets see," Mantis pondered studying her choices in the fire. "Should I use a dulled blade, or a sharp one? A dull one I think," she decided, picking up a small thin scalpel. "It tends to extend the torture a bit." She turned to the defiant woman in the chair. "Do you know there is only a thin amount of skin and tissue which attaches your fingernail?"

"I am impressed with your knowledge," Livonia retorted.

"Only an observation," she replied. "It simply amazes me that the severing of that small piece can cause such excruciating pain." Mantis went to work on her smaller finger. The bound woman cried in utter agony.

"Enough!" Janus begged, burying his head in his hands.

"I believe we have made our point," Censor told Mantis, waving for her to cease.

"So soon," Mantis whined disappointedly. "I thought he would have lasted at least for one complete nail. Oh well, she nearly fainted anyway. It's not very fun if they aren't screaming," she giggled.

"It's all my fault," the broken Feran moaned.

"And I haven't forgot you comrade," Censor turned towards the old man on the floor. "I have a document for you as well."

"What is this?" Feran asked, taking the parchment in his shaking hand.

"It's your confession," Censor said matter-of-factly. "You wrote a signed confession on how you personally killed the great hero Emperor at the behest of your elven masters. I even placed a few persons on there that you named as accomplices. You see," Censor explained. "Every cause needs a martyr and traitor. You my poor fool will be the latter. However, guilt got the better of you and you broke down and admitted everything prior to committing suicide.

"I wont sign it." Feran stated, regaining some of his old fire.

"Really?" Censor smiled.

Feran felt red tendrils twisting around in his mind. IT seemed as if it was someone else as his hand picked up the quill upon the table. He tried to order his hand to drop the writing instrument to no avail. He watched helpless as his hand signed the confession before him.

"Now for the next part," Censor stated, retrieving another piece of fruit. Feran drew out his sword, placing the tip against his chest. The Prince regent pointed his finger downward. Feran fell helpless upon his sword.

Janus stared open mouthed, at the horror before him. "Now, for you," Censor returned his attention to Janus. "Will you sign or does my companion get to use her special gift?"

"I think she is becoming more aware," Mantis interjected eagerly. "Maybe we should go ahead just in case?" Janus gazed upon the sea-green eyes, holding the fate of his true love in her twisted hands. Taking up the quill in a trembling hand, he signed the document.

Janus slumped back in the great throne. "May all the deities in the heavens protect us," he sobbed.

"They wont help you little brother," Censor whispered, taking up the signed paper. "No one can."

Chapter 10

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