Dareia spent the next few days in agony. More travelers from the north arrived, all of them hastily joining the new kingdom. The head servant had fallen ill with the normal summer diseases, leaving Xene and the other high ranking healers busy, and it up to Dareia to sort out where everyone was to be situated, and how they could benefit the kingdom.

She was in the main hall one day, when a man strode into the palace, alone and strangely unarmed.

He looked up at Dareia as she left what she was doing to discover more about him. Green eyes got wide, and he smiled. "Are you Dareia?" He asked in a quiet, melodic way.

"Yes." Dareia nodded, confused. "May I inquire who you are?"

He continued smiling, and bowed. "My name is Jovan.. I come here from the North- with important news."

"Really?" Dareia asked, interested. "Than please, come in. Would you like anything to drink? Water? Wine? What are you showing me your-" He had raised his hand into the air, palm up, and she stared at the multitude of pale white scars on his hand. Words from the goddess came back to her. "- Are- have you been sent by- how?"

"Yes." He bowed slightly. "I am a prophet, sent by Callisto." He smiled, almost nervously, and said with a chuckle, "I didn't even know that she existed, until she visited me one day in a dream, and hasn't left me since, telling me to journey here and find you and your partner. Do you know who your partner is?"

Dareia nodded, but then shook her head. "He doesn't believe in the goddess, and he thinks that I'm insane. He threatened to kill me if I ever spoke of the journey we had to take again..."

Jovan looked at her, pondering. "He's not from this land then. Is he a missionary?"

Dareia nodded, scowling as she thought of Griffin. "Yes, a missionary."

"I see. Can you take him to me? Callisto warned me that something like this might happen. It's no good asking her for you to have another partner- only he will do. Do you think you can show me where he is?"

"I'll try," Dareia said, biting her lip. "Who knows where he spends his days."

She took him around the castle, starting on the first level, all the time asking him questions about the goddess, and what she had told him. He answered everything, smiling at the thought, and his smile only flattered once, when Dareia asked why the goddess was leaving them.

"It's not like that," he replied, sighing. "It is merely that she draws her power from the nature of this kingdom, and from the magic- don't twitch like that- which thrives here. Your kingdom has been protected for many years, but now, the protections around it have been crushed, and magic is seeping away... The land is ruined.. She can't survive like she used to."

Dareia glanced out of the nearest window at the small city and the fields around it before turning back to Jovan. "How can we help her?"

"Pray. Believe. Never give up hope. I'll tell this to your people later today, but for now, until you and your missionary set off on your journey, that is all they can do."

"I see." Dareia paused, and then sighed as they reached the end of the hallway. "I can't imagine where he is- wait..." a sudden inspiration hit her, and she hurried down the hallway, turning a corner, and knocked on the door to the Queen's room.

Surprisingly (but luckily) enough, Griffin opened it.

"Ahh." Jovan stepped forward and inspected the taller man. "Amon Griffin, traitor to the Lord Risylon, one who betrayed the virtuous Lady of the Hills, and of course, everyone's favorite Dark. I should've expected this."

"Jovan Hawk. What are you doing here? Last time I saw you, you were half dead under a horse, bleeding, and screaming for someone to slay you to get you out of the pain that you were in. Apparently, something happened," Griffin sneered, staring the prophet down.

Dareia side stepped the two men, and hurried into the Queen's room, kneeling down beside her cousin. "Ioanna!" She said, excited, "a prophet's arrived! He's going to help us get Griffin to come with me!"

"What?!" the Queen looked up blurrily, her voice faint, "you mean that he broke his promise?"

Dareia suddenly remembered that Griffin and the Queen seemed to be in love. Of course he wouldn't have told her! "Yes." She said, scowling. "Yes, he broke his promise."

The Queen sighed, and closed her eyes, leaning back onto her pillows. "He is a good man, Dareia, despite what you believe. He holds his values in the right place, and he knows very many things about warfare and defense. It's cruel to dislike him just because he doesn't believe in the goddess."

Dareia pursed her lips. "He breaks promises, Ioanna. Anyway, just because you-" She abruptly stopped and bit her lip. Her cousin was dying. "Never mind," she whispered, "the prophet's going to help me persuade Griffin. I don't know how he's gong to, but he said that the goddess thought Griffin might act this way."

The Queen smiled, and said quietly, "Griffin's stubborn enough. Once their done- do you think you could send the prophet in? He might be able to explain my dreams."

"You've been having more?" Dareia asked, surprised.

The Queen nodded, looking at Dareia, almost as if she was going to say something, but then she closed her mouth, and sighed.

Dareia leaned backwards, wondering what her cousin was keeping from her. However, she knew Ioanna wasn't one who took questions very well, so she pushed herself to her feet, and walked to the door, opening it up.

Griffin stopped mid-sentence to frown at her, and turned again towards the shorter man. "Don't expect me to go just because of that. My answer is still no."

"Very well." Jovan shrugged as Griffin stomped away, but he turned towards Dareia, grinning. "You'll see," he said, "he'll change his mind soon enough."

Dareia smiled, still confused. "That's good. My cousin, the Queen, would like to see you." She stepped out of the way, opening up the door, and then closing it behind Jovan, wondering how the prophet could ever manage to persuade the missionary. Sighing, she shook her head, and hastily made her way down to one of the guest rooms, which she'd have to ready for the new visitor...

Griffin made sure he was well away from Dareia and Jovan before stopping, and opening his palm. Ever since he had hurried away from them, it had began burning, as if someone had slashed a deep cut into it. However, there was no mark, not even the hint of a spell around it. Scowling and waving it in the air, he continued down the hallway, thinking. So apparently Jovan Hawk, an old time rival, had an encounter with this goddess too. A bit strange, since Jovan had never been one to believe in myths and higher powers. He slowed his pace, pondering.

Perhaps Dareia had gotten to him before he got up to Ioanna's room- but that wouldn't make sense, Griffin reprimanded himself. Jovan had truthfully stated that he had been sent by the goddess, or at least someone who he called the goddess.

The new idea sat well with Griffin. It could be that the goddess both Jovan and Dareia, and even Ioanna spoke about was a powerful enchantress- although he had never heard of an enchantress posing as a deity.

"Hmm." His arm began to sting now, he could feel the nerves responding frantically to something that was happening to them.. He winced, and stopped, grabbing his arm. It was stinging- almost like it had been burned and- "ouch!" he stumbled as a new pain grew in his other hand, a cutting, searing pain, and he stared at it, doing a deeper search for any trace of a spell. No. There was nothing. Not even the faint tinkling of his own magic. Wait- He turned around, almost frantically. His magic! It had vanished! And if it was gone.

"The curse of the Lady..." he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "How in the world did Jovan manage to-"

He stared down the hallway, loathing the prophet's guts, and then turned around, forcing himself to ignore the pain, and continue walking. He had dealt with the curse before, he reminded himself. However, he paused, and scowled. He had dealt with the curse by putting up shields. Now, however, his shields were gone, as was the magic he had always had inside him. Feeling incomplete and in terrible pain as his other arm began to sear with imaginary burns, he made his way down the hall, scowling.