As you may have noticed, when Puck is predominately in his Owen personality, I just call him Owen. When he's primarily in his Puck personality, I call him Puck in Owen's form or the like. If I say just Puck, its safe to assume I'm probably talking about Puck in Puck's form. Also, I know Owen's office's window was too high up for him to see properly out of it, but they remodeled and thats my excuse.. I'll put it somewhere in this chapter to cover my goof.. maybe. Also, I've had no internet, apologies.

Puck in Owen's form stared up at Titania and the news she'd revealed before shaking his head lightly and snapping himself together, "What I mean, my queen, is.. how did they find definitive proof? They're just mortals, after all, they barely see anything the way it really is." Well.. it was true. The mortals could barely see a fairy queen and the queen of the third race even when she was standing right in front of them in a mortal body.

Titania frowned and stood up fully, her gaze drifting over to the window as she spoke, "It would seem one of our own was captured and bound in an iron room." Puck in Owen's form grimaced. Gee, she has to go and make this easy for me doesn't she. With a sigh, the blond male pulled himself up so he was standing as well, and adjusted his tie out of nervous habit. "Well yes, that would put us at a distinctive disadvantage."

To this, the queen nodded her agreement as she walked towards one of the mirrors of the room, "You are in a unique position to prevent this from erupting the way the Quarrymen's feud with the gargoyles has. If you accomplish this.." She let her statement hang as she stepped through the mirror and back to Avalon knew where. Owen sighed lightly and walked over to grab the book he'd been reading and placed it on a shelf. Well, at least it won't be boring.

Opting to think over his options, Owen walked down a hallway and a staircase to make his way to one of the elevators. Stepping inside he idly pushed a button and went down into the Eyrie building proper only to step out a few floors down and walk down another hallway before opening a door, revealing the outside. He walked over to stand between two of the large columns and leaned against the small fence that kept people form falling off. Even here he was still higher than a good deal of the surrounding buildings, but it gave him a nice viewpoint as he looked up at the rising sun, his mind drifting off to wonder if sunrise on Avalon was as wonderful as he remembered it.

It was then that his face fell into such a stony expression that the most trained might not even be able to tell what the man was thinking. Closing his eyes, he reached up and removed his glasses, tucking them into a pocket, and pushed up as he leaned out just over the railing. With the wind pushing against him he was in little danger of falling, but his mind wasn't worried about that right now.

Visions of Avalon ran through his head. His friends, his fellow tricksters, the woods, he knew that he didn't want to go there to be locked up for thousands of years, but that doesn't mean I never wanted to see it again he thought to himself. After all, it was his home, where his friends and (dare he say it) family resided. Though not much of a family to be certain, still.. Puck sighed lightly and shook his head, realizing this would probably look like poor Owen had too much to drink and was considering jumping, so he stepped down off of the fence and placed his glasses back on.

He couldn't help that he'd been thinking about it, it was just last month that was the anniversary of Alexander's birth.. and his banishment. Still, standing on the cliffs with the waves beating against them as the moon glimmered over the water, feeling the heady rush of Avalon's magic enveloping him, the pure and serene nature of the island around him, when he thought of all of that he couldn't help but feel his heart ache. I won't see it again. Ever. He looked around over the city, with its stone and iron constructs, its foul smelling air, its distinctly mortal feel to it, and he sighed in disappointment. If only I could have convinced David and Fox to come live on Avalon with the other mortals. Puck blinked in surprise, straightening out Owen's form rigidly as he muttered to himself, "Now you really are delusional.. wanting to go back."


Meanwhile in his office David Xanatos gave a light 'tsk' and turned off the monitor he'd been watching Owen through since he noticed the man walking off somewhere in the building. He had half considered rushing out after Owen himself when he saw him climb up onto the railing, but his knowledge, or perhaps hope, that the man wasn't going to break his vow kept him sitting in his chair as he swiveled it around and muttered to himself, "What is he up to..?"

The wealthy man stood up and clicked off the monitor he'd been watching as he saw the figure of Owen heading off towards the door inside. Running a finger along the side of his beard, he stood up and walked over towards the other side of his large office, verbally thinking over what could be so deeply bothering his most trusted employee. "It just isn't like him to behave like this. He almost never slips his character."

With a sigh and a dismissing motion of his hand, David shook his head and reached for his coffee. "If I ask he'll just insist nothing is wrong, so I guess I'll just have to trick it out of him." So, decided, Xanatos sat back down in his seat, thinking over how one might go about out-tricking a trickster.


Screaming echoed through the underground facility that the group known as Scio had gotten a hold of, bouncing off the walls of the complex before being absorbed into the soundproof outer walls. A man in a dark blue hooded outfit with a small iron knife walked back towards a slender, ebony-skinned figure in the center of a room with metallic sides, floor, and ceiling. The outfit the man wore did not distinguish him from the rest of the Quarrymen, but the slender figure he was approaching was certainly not one of the group.

Eldresh was not one of the smaller members of the third race, however he was slender, toned, and rather androgynous in appearance. His features had a feminine touch to them, and his skin was the color of onyx and shadows, with long black hair that was held back with a ponytail along with pupil-less eyes a pale red in color, with lavender streaks in them.

Panting, sweat rolled down from him face, dripping onto his bare chest and mingling with the blood that dripped out of the wound that had a thin stick of sharpened iron resting in it. He threw his head back and screamed again, arms curling backwards towards him as the human yanked on the think stick of iron and the skin around it shriveled and Eldresh's features aged that much more. With a growl the man yelled out, "I told you to answer swiftly! How many more of your kind are out there?"

Withdrawing the stick so as not to kill his prisoner, he watched impassively as the slender figure spat on his foot, age slowly retreating from his features. "Like I'd tell you." The human smirked underneath his hood, returning with his knife at the ready. Yes, this strange figure would talk..