Written by Chris Wallace

     Dallium walked across the battle field strewn with bodies. A thrashing nightmare blocked his way. The pathetic creature was screaming in pain, dying from several arrows sticking out of it's side. it's legs were pounding it's late
attackers into pulp.
     "Poor thing..." Dallium drew his sword and removed the creature's head. He quickly dodged it's burning blood and moved on.
     A dark elf lay in pain on the charred battlefield. He was clutching a sword with what was left of his strength. "Dal..." he moaned. "What are you doing here? Come to kill me? come for the.." he shuddered, "sword...?"
     "No, Tree." Dallium replied, hot tears staining his cheeks. "I've come to bring you home."
     Treekiller laughed morbidly. "It's too late for that, Dal." He raged at his little brother: "Damn it, Dal! Why are you so soft! Dark Elves don't cry when their rivals die!"
     "YOU'RE MY BROTHER, NOT MY RIVAL!" he sniffed. "You...you made mom cry..."
     Tree smiled. "Yeah, Dark elves do cry when you kill their mates..ugh!"
     Dallium bodily lifted his brother. "NO! YOU DIDN'T KILL DAD! YOU DIDN'T! SOMEONE ELSE DID!"
     "Our mother would kill me as soon as look at me."
     "NO! She loves you..."
     Tree shook his head sadly. "You don't understand, do you? You're too damn stupid..."
     Dallium dropped the twisted elf and turned his back. "...don't call me stupid..."
     "Why not? You are! You're better at magic, and swordplay, but you're so dumb..." he sighed. "My time is almost over..." he paused. "unless..."
     "I'M NOT USING ASSEMBLE BONES! You know what will happen...
Better to be... dead..."
     "Don't you think that should be my choice. I want to live.
Heal me, Dal."
     He was terrifed by the pause. His gentle brother...not
immediatly leaping to help. something was wrong.
     "I...can't do that, TK." he turned, his face blank. "You can't be allowed to live. You killed father, after all. You killed our brother, and stole his sword. Blood must be payed with blood. That's...the dark elf way, right?"
     "No, Dal, please..."
     Dallium raised his hand. "Death...Death..."
     "DON'T DO IT! NOOOOOOOOO!"
     "DEATHBOLT!" Pure death energy poured out of his open plam, bathing his brother's tattered body. He wrenched the sword away from the corpse. He staggered away, his tears falling onto the ground. "There Mom. I did what you wanted. Now, I'm done. I want to live my life the way I want to live. Does that make me the same as Treekiller?" he laughed softly. "Does it matter?"

     A robed figure approached the blacked cadaver. "Rise, Treekiller. You're work isn't over yet." As black tendrills crept out of the cloak, the hand that had been holding the sword clentched, missing the hilt.