February in Paragon City was cold, harsh, and always unpredictable. It wasn't the weather that made it that way, it was the villains. I woke up, for the third time this week, huddled against warm, hard muscle wrapped in two layers of clothes. Five days of power outages. We'd given up trying to keep things in the refrigerator cold and just put them all out on the balcony. At least none of the food had spoiled. Between my psycho kinesis and Urioch's energy powers, we could cook anything that could be cooked in a pot or skillet. I tried to tough it out the first couple nights, but my head cold only got worse. Urioch simply informed me that it was better to keep warm and healthy than prideful and ill. It wasn't pride, it was self preservation, but he'd been right. Without power, there was just no way to keep warm enough. Nights were dropping under zero and the days barely rose over twenty degrees. It was probably warmer in the sewers than it was in our apartment.

"Dinner will be ready in a half hour," Urioch said as he stuck his head in my room.

"Uh hmmm," I mumbled in acknowledgement, trying to figure out what I was going to write for my paper on the gay culture in America. I might have underhandedly tried to figure out if Urioch would have a problem with gays by slipping the books into the bag, but I really had planned on writing the paper. The problem with writing a paper on a group that I was a member of, but didn't feel like I was a member of, was that it depressed me. I pushed away from my desk after a few more futile attempts to write anything approaching intelligent, and walked into the living room. "I've got to take a break anyway."

"How are you feeling?" Demonicalle plopped down beside me as I looked out over the city. It was kind of ironic that I was sitting in the cleavage of a stone statue of Galaxy Girl. It was the closest I ever wanted to get to a woman's breasts.

"A bit lost," I mumbled.

"Lost? You bring down a superadyne lab, are confirmed as an empathic healer, and you've been granted level one security clearance; and you're feeling lost?"

"Just a bit," I sighed, laying back. At least big stone boobs were comfortable to lie on. "Not to mention, we'll probably get fined for being up on a public statue like this."

"They'll get over it," she laughed, "Heroes perch on the statues more often than pigeons."

I sat in Kevin's office, waiting for my appointment with Mrs. Patterson. She was the only person I knew who was more anal about appointment times than Amanda. It was half past ten and she hadn't opened the door demanding to know where I was. Of course, I'd never actually been in her office before. I'd always come to Kevin's, which was the gateway to hers, and then was directed to a conference room. Kevin wasn't there. What was there was a phone that didn't stop ringing more than a minute or two at a time and a million post-it notes stuck on Patterson's door. The whole place seemed to be in overdrive. Another office worker scurried in, looked at Kevin's empty desk in a panic, found a post-it, scribbled something and put it up on Patterson's door before dashing off with an armload of papers from the desk.

Curiosity pulled me from the chair and I started reading the notes. Most were requests to return calls, but there were a couple that looked important. I stopped at one half buried note. "Kevin, auto accident, Chiron medical, Room 417." I wondered if Patterson even knew he wasn't there. I could hear her, talking emphatically and clicking at her computer. I knocked before pushing open the door.

I couldn't believe it was over. I stood in the living room, my stuff crammed into bags and boxes, as Urioch glared at me. The hate, the pure hate and disgust radiating from him had me crying. All I wanted was to have things they way they'd been before.

I reached out, trying to grip his arm. "Urioch, please!" I couldn't believe I was begging.

Thrusting me away, he snarled, "You are nothing but a burden. You are never satisfied. Life gives you every opportunity and you consume it all and demand more!"

"I don't need more," I mumbled, getting up off the floor. I knew what I needed. "Please..."

Lifting me by my shirt, he brought our faces close. The tone in his voice wasn't the joyful music I'd listened to so many times. It was the dark tone he reserved for criminals and villains. "Leave, Jason. You are nothing but a hole to me... a ravenous, gaping hole that can never be filled."

"No!" I sat up, shaking, and looked around my bedroom. I'd been out of the hospital for over two weeks, but I didn't feel well at all. Climbing out of bed, I wandered into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. I hadn't had a good night's sleep since I ran out of pain pills. I wasn't in pain, physically at least, so there wasn't any excuse for more. I wished Amanda was available, but she was taking care of Patrick, the kids, and helping to put that family back together. Standing by the balcony doors, I looked out at the city lights.

Three nights since I received my mother's gift, and sleep continued to elude me. I stared at the ceiling, awakened again by memories and feelings that were not my own, and pondered how the world had turned so dark. All the torch fire in existence could not illuminate the blackness that clung to the underside of Cradalym. I could not look in any direction and not see the disease that corrupted the Gifts of Goddess. I slipped from the bed, from the warmth and light of the man I loved, took up my hearthstone, and stepped quietly into the hall. Shadows stretched, long and dark across the walls and floors as I moved; they seemed alive, avoiding the light of my hearthstone, creeping into crevices and behind furniture as I moved.

Sparrow's Nest looked the same as I remembered it. The inn had been my master's choice, and I saw no reason to second guess him. We hitched Mina out front and stepped into the main tavern room. Memories came flooding back. It had been seven years since my last visit, and I felt I could walk the place with my eyes closed. I smiled as I saw a handsome man come out from the kitchen. His ears still looked like someone tugged on them daily.

With a smile, I walked past the bar. "Nathin."

Nathin turned and looked at me for a moment with a blank, servile smile. As he recognized me, his smile wavered and his eyes went wide; he nearly dropped the bucket. "Master Gaerlin?" The joy on his face warmed my heart. He was my fondest memory of Kessel's Claw, and apparently I'd had made a similar impression on him.

We spent two weeks in Kessel's Claw. By the time we left, Nathin was a friend for life. He was a couple years older but our difference in status seemed to even that out. I realized that other than Master Almidion, Nathin was the first friend I had ever had. It hurt to leave, but such was my life for the next year. My master and I traveled, renewing alliances and forming new ones. I had never realized the world was so large. None of it, however, prepared me for my first sight of Seer's Watch.

The morning started like any other. I rose first, rekindled the fire and packed most of the necessities before my master woke. I had his tea ready and had cooked the second rabbit from the night before. Master Almidion had smiled more with each day that week. Before we started, master pulled out his grooming kit.

Almidion chuckled as I fidgeted with my new tunic. "Come out here, Gaerlin, and let me look at you." I came out, reluctantly, and stood just inside the door. I had never worn clothes that felt so fine. They were solid, but soft; clothes that were simply tailored, but made with small embellishments like complimentary colored trim and solid brass eyelets. I felt like I shouldn't brush against anything for fear of soiling them.

"Master, these are too fine." My discomfort wasn't that I was exposed in any way, but that I simply wasn't worth the expense and effort.

"Hah," he smiled at me as I pulled at the hem of the tunic, "You worry far too much about what you are or are not worthy of, Gaerlin. It is my money; I will not have my apprentice dressed in clothing unbecoming of his station." He turned to the mirror and straightened his own very fine robes.

It wasn't until Bourent had completely finished packing the camp that I remembered I had never actually ridden a horse. The thought was completely ridiculous. I had been around horses for most of my life. I had groomed them, fed them, boarded them, saddled them and even led them as pack animals. Yet, in eighteen years of life, I had never actually ridden one. I would have laughed, if I hadn't been so embarrassed

Bourent caught me eyeing his horse dubiously and smiled. "Afraid of horses?"

"No, I love horses." I let the mare sniff at my sleeve before scratching behind her ear. "I've just never ridden one."

"Never?" He looked at me in disbelief.

Shrugging, I looked at the packs. "Never. It seems ridiculous when I think about it." I smiled at him self-consciously. "I've always walked where I needed to go."

I stumbled for the two hundred and twenty-seventh time in the last three days. My yelp, as my knee impacted the rocky soil, was muffled by the gag that became ever more fused to my mouth by the hour. It was nearly impossible to keep my balance in uneven terrain when my arms were restrained behind my back. I could hardly feel my arms any longer. I was certain the bonds were cutting off my circulation. The hands that yanked me up belonged to a creature that cared nothing for these things. With a harsh bark of a barely discernable language the beast shoved me onward.

I dared not look around to see how many of us were left. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the flames rising from the tower; my home for seven glorious years. In those flames I could see Almidion's body, broken and bloody, on the floor of the great hall. The great sage was a man of peace; yet he died at the hands of violence as surely as any peasant, warrior or thief. I tried not to close my eyes. This was more a practical than sentimental choice; I needed to watch my step lest I add another stumble to the growing succession of them.

"I'm not so sure about this," I commented as Patrick descended the steps of the Kings Row PYRC to greet me.

"I was nervous my first few meetings also, Jason, but you're doing a great service," he assured me as we shook hands.

"Yeah," I breathed, looking at the front doors like the gates of the Zig in Bricks.

"The Paragon Youth Recreation Center Outreach Programs are the last safe place our kids have before they end up on the streets." Patrick put his hand on my shoulder as we started up the steps.

"Yeah," I said again, with no more enthusiasm than before.

Patrick raised an eyebrow at me as we got to the doors.

I shrugged. "I don't know what kind of example I am, you know? I did time on the streets, I was in the gangs, I did shit I'm not proud of." I took a breath. "And I'm not so sure I'm any better a person now than I was then."

395 / 50,000

Yes, I know this is madness! 
*runs off, screaming and rending my hair, to write some more!*

I've already done two NaNo Novels in the past 2 years, so I really don't feel like I need to prove that I can complete yet another "new story".  Instead, I'm going to use my month to finish or continue in process works.  I may possibly start some new stuff, but I have so many series and stories that need to be moved along that I don't feel compelled to add more to the "in process" pile.

Following mallie_kite's example, I'm going to list out how I'm approaching this nano.

1) TorchSong: I only have 3-5 more chapters to go before this novel is done... maybe 25,000 words tops. This is my EPIC... Robert Jordan has nothing on me when it comes to verbosity! At present that little tale is over 200,000 words and climbing!

2) Awakenings: I have so many edits and additions to do to my most recent fan-fiction that I just have to put a few more chapters out.  Hell, there isn't any SEX until like chapter 8... and I've only posted the first 5!  My readers must really think I'm slacking off at this point! *snort*

3) Life Light: One of my few collaborative efforts. My co-author intends to give me back chapters to continue on our novel... if she does, then I'll do my best to get something back to her before the end of the month.

4) the Conquered: I haven't posted a new chapter on this epic collaboration, continuing series story, since early this year (February I think). It is time for another installment!

If those four little projects don't net me at least 50,000 words, I'll start on my erotic-horror short story I plan to submit for an gay-horror anthology.

I looked in the mirror as the last of my fire receded from my face and smiled; it was a tired smile, but my eyes looked bright and alert. "There," I declared, turning around for inspection. "How do I look?"

Pars turned away from his mirror and leaned in to examine my efforts. He scrutinized my face, coming ever closer until his lips brushed mine. "Beautiful," he murmured as he pulled back.

Best intentions aside, I didn't take well to being imprisoned in my own apartment. School, training, home, study, eat, sleep, repeat, that was the cycle of my life; if you could call that living. By the end of the first week I was going nuts. I found myself on the balcony, early Friday evening, staring longingly at the city. I watched people walking along the streets, hurrying mostly, on their way to get somewhere before dark. Behind me, the door slid open and Urioch stepped out onto the balcony.

"Would you like to do something tonight, Jason?" He rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

Well, Duh! Hello! Of course I would. I could think of a million things I wanted to do. At least I could until the muscle bound elf decided to ask. What was it about being asked a question that made me clam up? The question I hated the most was, What do you want? I could never answer that one. I pulled my gaze from the streets and shrugged. "Can't go out after dark."

The broken brick wall was not the most comfortable thing to sit on, but it was solid and gave me a good view of the training area. Exhausted wasn't a strong enough word to describe how I felt. Urioch had expressed his concern about my overtaxing myself since the construction site disaster. He'd expressed his concern every night, without fail. He meant well, but living with a know-it-all, who usually did know it all, was annoying. I was a big boy. I could take care of myself. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I tried to catch my breath, and eyed Blaize as he leaned against the wall near to me.

"How the headaches?" Blaize asked, grinning at me, knowing full well I wouldn't tell him the truth.

"Not bad," I mumbled, wishing I had taken two Aleve at breakfast instead of one.