Nyx lay in bed, her eyes transfixed on the texture of the ceiling and her mind drifting away. She lay with her right arm behind her head and her left hand free. Wife. The word reverberated through her conciousness. 'We were married. Married to Millie? No. Milton, Milton Zameal.' It was returning to her, slowly. Che. Why so slowly? She cursed and pounded her fist on the matress.

She had snuck away through a secret entrance in the library back to her room and left the two men arguing out in the gallery.

The Immortal closed her eyes and dreamed, which was in the form of a nightmare, for in it the voice of those who had gone before came to her through deadspeak. Even so it didn't come clearly but distorted, drifting, a thousand echoes coming together from all directions and combining to form a strange, out-of-sync sighing.

Nyx found herself running, sweat glistening off her brow, neck and shoulders. She was back in the woods of Willow Vale and something was after her. Something was coming to take her away.

'Remember Brashov! Remember Berlin! Remember the Legacy!' the voices cried out. 'Remember the darkness.............remember the beginning of your rebirth!'

Nyx tossed and turned in her bed and began to sweat. Sometimes she was like other people, that is to say, normal ones. Her dreams were just so much junk; or again they might be erotic or esoteric fantasies; or they could be, well, just dreams. But at other times they were a lot more than that. And this was beginning yo feel like one of those times.

Flashes of her past sped past her. Gwydion. The Tremere. The Legacy. The E-branch!

Flash.

Methos and her former self training at a cliff's edge. Sparks flying from their blades. Concentration painted across their faces. Methos screamed for her to be more agressive. 'Challenge me! You want to take my head!'

Flash.

A pleasent day. People are gathered about. Young girls with flowers in their hair are gleefully scattering flowers on a path way.

Milton was smiling and kissing her sweetly. And exchange of rings and vows never meant to be severed.

Another flash.

A roof top. Berlin, c.1943. Victoria is aiming a sniper's rifle at a leading Nazi officer. A parade is playing out below. A shot is fired. A man falls. Blood.

Flash.

Two opponents battling. Sparks flying from thier blades. Shadows on a wall. A strike. One falls. Quickening.

Flash.

Willow Vale. Her former self is standing at the edge of the cliff, her hair flying about her face. A shadow falls upon her. She turns, it is Milton. Tears are running down her cheeks. Tears are filling his. She takes the white gold band from her left ring finger and places it in his hand. 'I can not live like this any longer. Release me.' she whispers. He clasps her in a lovers embrace, his hands stroke her hair and back. He pulls her from himself and painfully, he places his hands on either side of her head. He robs her of her memories. She closes her eyes and all goes black. She collapses into his arms.

'You are free.' Milton gathered her into his arms and bowed his head, looking longingly at his wife's peaceful countenance.

Flash.

Nyx gasped and opened her eyes, and shot bolt upright in the tumbled bed.

TBC......