The flame swayed hypnotically, it's vibrant colours shimmering. It appeared to dance over Aiofe's skin, he imagined it embracing him, lapping at him. As though it were a pet and he it's master.

Eventually it's arch of light began to dim, it spread out momentarily as if searching for fuel. Then it shuddered, petering out on Aiofe's moist skin.

Aiofe stood dazed for a moment, allowing the hypnotic effects of the flame to wear off. He reached out with his opposite hand and traced the flames journey across his skin. His arm was hairless now. Where once there was a forest of thick black hair there was now only bare mottled green flesh. An yet his skin didn't appear to be damaged in any way. His shirt and arm hairs were gone but his skin remained the same mottled green it had been before he set himself on fire.

As realization settled over him a curious kind of smile jumped to Aiofe's face. His eyes sparkled with excitement as a sudden rush of pranks and possible endangerment's filled his mind. As a character Aiofe was a bit of a hoodlum. Which could be explained, in part, by the severe social isolation that comes from being the only one of your species.

Aiofe was incomprehensible, a hybrid species that was believed to be impossible. His father was an Elb and his mother a Water Nymph. This genetic combination equip Aiofe with a mixture of physical, emotional and mental attributes that seemed incredible. His appearance wasn't grotesque but unusual. His features were so incongruous that they seemed paradoxical in nature.

He was exceedingly tall for an Elb, standing at about 5 ft. His skin, of course, was the deep mottled green of an Elb, but his eyes were ghostly blue as his mother’s had been. His ears were large and reddish in tone coming to a point at their crest like any Elban, but his nose was small and contrasted unattractively with his large ears.

Held within the curve of a gigantic leaf sat a pool of brownish yellow liquid. The leaf rested expertly on Aiofe's bare feet in order to prevent the flammable substance from spilling. Aiofe bent down dipping his fingertips into the mixture. It was a basic concoction his father had taught him when he was five.

He rubbed the substance across his fingers. Dark calloused fingertips sat at the end of dainty almost feminine fingers. His fingertips were excessively calloused, a dry rough surface that was almost impossible to feel through. If Aiofe moved them against themselves fast enough, with the right amount of pressure sparks would fly from his fingers as from flint.

Aiofe smiled another goofy smile that revealed the hellion he was, as he allow the flammable liquid to spread across his hand and forearm. Once he felt his skin was adequately soaked he stood and clicked his fingers.

The fuel ignited instantaneously tearing across Aiofe skin in the fashion of a savage beast. Meanwhile a single drop of ignited fuel fell from Aiofe's hand.

The concoction at Aiofe's feet ignited. The leaf crumpled with the heat, spewing burning liquid across the forest floor. The flame tore through the amassed shrubbery and dead grass. Smoke quickly chocked up the damp air. The flames multiplied and grew. Giant flames wrapped themselves around ancient firs. Their scorched needles caught the wind.

From deep within the forest sprang a monster of flames and heat. The animals scattered in its quake. While Aiofe watched helplessly the lively green of the forest became a death like grey. He crinkled his nose at the acidic smell and allowed his shoulders to slump.

“Oh gris'pic! I'm in so much trouble.”  

A cacophony of voices filled the open plain, as creatures of various sizes, shapes and species jostled for a better view of the four Pama judges. Anticipation was building in the audience, the Pama had promised to reveal the conviction today. This sentence was going to bring an end to the lengthy and theatrical trial that had held Anamorca's citizen's in suspense over the last season. 

To the left of the plain, the crowd parted reluctantly as two Sagoon guards dragged the accused into the middle of the court. The clatter of voices dulled for a moment only to be replaced by pandemonium as Aiofe was thrown to the ground before the four judges. 

Aiofe lay disorientated, his mottled skin discolored by poor nutrition and hygiene. Charred remnants of his clothing clung to his perspiring body. Vaguely aware of the etiquette required at these proceeding he attempted to stand swaying under the weight of his own body.

To Aiofe's left and to his right stood a Sagoon guard. Saliva slid down overhanging fangs. Their nostrils flared as they sniffed at the air, their canine eyes focused ahead. Neither moved to assist Aiofe.

"Aiofe Tandr." The Head judge began. “You stand accused of illegal construction of explosive chemicals, trespassing, arson, malicious vandalism, attempted manslaughter, the death of our Sigma’s domesticated hydra Fluffy, malicious intent to cause mass evacuation and lastly... indecent exposure.”    

Aiofe tried to focus on the words being spoken he knew they were important, but he was exhausted. His legs buckled under the weight of his own body and he fell to his knees panting at the exertion. The judge was staring at him now, he tried to think of what was last said, but nothing came to mind. Eventually the judge spoke again.

"How do you plea?" Aiofe stared at him in frustration. They had done this routine so many times. And yet he couldn't remember what he was suppose to say. He mumbled incoherently, his words slurring together as he swayed unsteadily. Around him the crowd grumbled. 

The Pama court was impractical and perplexing. Almost void of justice, it was a gamble for any creature unfortunate enough to be accused of a crime. Four judges ruled over all proceedings, each of them an elder of the Pama race, a species rumored to be the wisest and most mystical of the forest.

These judges were creatures of the forest, in the truest sense, they were speaking trees. Creatures with faces and limbs of bark. Their features were humanoid in form, however their hair was a blanket of vines sweeping from the crest of their heads to the grassy floor.

The Pama had no feet, their “ankles” continued into the soil, spreading below them in a deep root system. Despite having the general abilities of humanoid creatures they couldn’t move. Transplanting their roots nearly always proved fatal, they were riveted to the spot by their own life force. The Pama embraced their confinement by focusing solely on the progress of their minds and the studies of the mysteries of life. As the only species to study theoretical science, their knowledge made them seem mystic and wise.

 Aiofe's sickly form appeared pitiable and harmless as he knelt before the Pama judges. At his first hearing Aiofe was confident, healthy. It had been easy to picture him as a hooligan that delighted in starting forest fires. Those that attended those early proceedings walked away reassured that a bad egg was getting punished but after months in captivity Aiofe didn't appear as a threat. The crowd no longer reviled him but rather sympathized with the ailing Elban. 

Unable to comprehend the nonsense that had bubbled forth from Aiofe moments earlier, the judge simply proceeded with his conviction. 

 "Aiofe Tandr, under the law of Anamorca, for the crimes of arson with intent, illegal construction of explosive weaponry, attempted manslaughter in the first degree, malicious vandalism and malicious intent to cause mass evacuation, we find you guilty. For trespassing and indecent exposure, we find you not guilty." The judge paused allowing the commotion that had stirred within the court to quiet once again. Aiofe sat on the ground swaying, the words washed over him like a torrent but nothing really made sense. "These crimes." The judge continued. "carry the death penalty." 

This revelation brought an unprecedented outburst from the crowd. What previously had been an interested audience now assumed the appearance of an angry mob. In all the commotion the one least moved by the announcement was Aiofe who rested his forehead against the ground and laid his arms over his head in an attempted to block out the angry shouts.  

The thing that made the Pama court impractical wasn't that it was ruled over by a group of immobile trees or that it was outside in an area that tended to rain. Rather what made the court impractical and unjust was that those passing the judicial decisions were governed by an almost irrational sense of fear. The Pama judges feared the mob mentality, that if those attending a hearing disagreed with the ruling they would turn and attack them. As a result rulings became a popularity contest and brought no real justice. 

As the crowd became more dis-quietened they split off into small groups and began discussing the verdict. The Newtons, who stood at the back of the crowd so as not to block the view for others, spoke to one another in what they considered a whisper. Their deep booming voices carried over the heads of the other creatures, adding their displeasure to the masses.

The judge cleared his throat to regain the attention of the court. Then with an expression perfectly practiced to maintain the appearance of authority even in its absence. 

He spoke, "After careful consideration. My colleagues and I decided that the maximum penalty need not be applied in this case." The crowd hushed. "Instead Aiofe Tandr you are to be stripped of your occupation, your rank and all the entitlements that these encompass."

Aiofe raised his head from the ground, beads of sweat speckled his forehead. His mottled skin was unnaturally light and the dark orange circles under his eyes gave a glaring proof of his exhaustion. 

"But what am I to do?" Aiofe plead in a barely audible whisper. The judge examined Aiofe for a moment, the aging bark around his eyes and mouth creaked as his facial expression morphed into one of pity. Around his mouth the bark splintered painfully, aging was hard on the Pama. As they aged the bark that encased their face and limbs became brittle. The pain continuously limited their movements until even the most subtle expressions became unbearably painful. 

“We must confer.” The judge eventually replied. Behind him the three remaining elders, each whose brittle face could not be moved began to lift their long vine like hair. The hair lifted on its own until each vine stood on its end upon the crest of each elders head. The head judge also experienced this strange transformation. Then suddenly the vines moved as if on their own accord. Vines merged with the vines of their neighbors, twisting and knotting till a weaved mat of vines connected all four trees. The elders sighed deeply and a biological conference began.

The conference took some time. Aiofe lay on the court floor dozing as the crowd spectating thinned until none remained. The plain that held the court was a large space, one that in our world would likely have been used for football. Now empty of its large audience the area seemed peaceful and almost pleasant. If not for the presence of his Sagoon guards Aiofe would have slept peacefully upon the soil, instead he doze fitfully. Waking every few moments in a state of panic, cursing himself for sleeping in such dangerous company. 

The Sagoon were a puzzling race, they had the snout and fangs of a lupine and savage canine eyes.  Their hunger was insatiable which was evidenced by the Sagoon’s inclination to drool. Every creature to them, whether Elban, Newton, Orestic or Water Nymph was just a delicacy waiting to be digested.

Their figures were hunched over, caught somewhere between walking on all fours and standing as a man does. Hair spread like bedraggled fur over much of their bodies but the tips of their heads were bald. Rosy pink skin showed through at the crest. They were a race known for their cruelty, oppression and poor hygiene. 

Fortunately the brute strength of the Sagoon was not matched by their intelligence. They simply couldn’t thrive outside a life of guided servitude and it was this life of servitude that stopped them from devouring every creature in their presence. They were soldiers first, blood thirsty predators second. 

Aiofe heard the dry scrapping as the judge opened his eyes. He stared about the court for a few moments clearly displeased with the number of individuals now in attendance. Eventually his eyes rested on Aiofe, there was so much emotion in those very old eyes. They seemed to sympathize entirely with Aiofe's predicament and yet at the same time the judge remained a distant and unapproachable individual. 

"You have been assigned to the history department." The judge said plainly. "you are to report to your new assignment tomorrow morning."  

An then it was over. Aiofe recognized that it was all done. He knew his future had been decided but he didn't have an ounce of energy left inside his body to care. He just swayed back and forth where he knelt upon the ground until the Sagoon guard grabbed hold of him and dragged him from the clearing. 

That night Aiofe slept. His body rolled up as compactly as he could manage, he hugged himself to fight the cold. It was the first full night's rest he got since the trial had started.

The cell that contained Aiofe shivering form wasn't much of a cell. The floor was cold cobbled stones and the walls didn't really exist. Here and there metal beams stood up on their own more for decorative purpose then for any other reason. It must have been a real jail once but maintenance was no longer a high priority.

If you stood within the confines of Aiofe's cell which were clearly marked by florescent, glow in the dark paint, this being the only detail that was maintained, you would see other prisoners. Each residing in a cell much like Aiofe's, each cell marked out with florescent paint. 

The jail if you could call it such wasn't really confined in a building either, it was just this grouping of unusual cells upon a mountain. There was very little protection from the elements and very little available in the way of sanitation. Yet that all said the "prison" had never had a convict escape since Krameth had come to rule. 

The reason was simple. Outside each cell stood a Sagoon guard. They stood there drooling. They had their orders, very specific orders. If a prisoner stepped out of their cell, outside the fluorescent lines, then they were allowed to eat them. It was a crude but effective system. Although before the introduction of the brighter paint a few prisoners had lost their lives by shear accident, none had ever escaped. 

The morning brought new complications. Aiofe was slightly more alert, the rest had provided him with some much needed energy but he was still weak and listless. As the hours started to slide away Aiofe became aware of his extended incarceration. He was suppose to report to the history department at dawn but day break had been and gone, he had not been collected. He became aware of some disagreement between the Sagoon. 

Just out of site of his cell there was rustling and growling. The Sagoon didn't communicate with any kind of spoken language not one that could be easily understood at any rate. There was just a jumble of growls and aggressive body language that communicated little except the want for food, safety or sex. They understood spoken commands, well a limited range. They could comprehend their functions of guarding, fighting or delivering but a philosophical debate on the meaning of life would be lost on them. Actually a grocery list would be lost on them. 

An yet despite this Aiofe was very aware of a growing dispute. There was something wrong, he glanced about the 'prison' and noticed that each cell no longer had a guard standing by. What ever conflict had arose it was interesting enough to draw every Sagoon from their post. 

There was little to do but wait, So Aiofe waited impatiently. The thought of potential freedom was gnawing at him. Today would be the last day he would wake on a cold and unforgiving floor surrounded by employed mass murderers or so he hoped.

Eventually he was collected, his clothing replaced with brown earthy colors that clashed with his complexion. The clothes all much to big bunched around his legs and created the image of one recovering from an extended convalescence. He walked through the cobbled streets of the shire flanked by his Sagoon guard. 

Perhaps I should digress here and tell you of the dilapidated huts and ancient store fronts. I could ramble expertly about the village children and the complex social hierarchy that existed in that little town, but I'd be frustrating you surely. I know you've picked up on the subtle foreshadowing I've placed in the this chapter. The mystery and fear that seems to be surrounding the history department. An by now you must be wondering, in fact I go as far as to say you might be guessing about the who we are about to meet. shall we progress quickly then, for we are about to meet - her. 

When Aiofe approached the entry way he could feel the dread oozing from his Sagoon guards. They were young guards in fact the youngest, weakest guards. Which of course doesn't make sense. You would send the bravest and strongest to face what you fear right? Not if you are Sagoon. If you're Sagoon you fight, and fight and fight. Then the losers, who inevitable are the weakest and usually the youngest are the ones left with whatever the nasty task is. 

The Sagoon stopped in the doorway, they grabbed Aiofe's cloak and forced him forward into the room. A room rimmed with bookshelves, shelves that over-flowed with volumes in every dialect on Anamorca. In the center of the room a desk sat littered with yellowing pieces of paper and maps. 

Aiofe strolled about the room curiously. Brushing his fingers over dusty book covers and inspecting things with interest. It was definitely a world completely different to his own but some how he felt like he might just like it. This new career in books and maps. 

He looked about for some one who might be in charge, but there was no one present. An the Sagoon weren't at all helpful they just huddled in the alcove glancing about with looks of dread blasted across their faces. Aiofe knew he should probably be scared or at least a little concerned. But he wasn't, instead he seated himself at the desk in the rooms center and started studying the maps that were laying about. 

" Feel free to make yourself at home." A voice sang out, crisp and sarcastic.  Aiofe glanced about him but there was no sign of the owner. He glanced over at the Sagoon who had plastered themselves to the door frame and seemed to be trying to infuse themselves into the wood.

"So, I usually like to get the names of my home invaders." The voice rang out again. "You know just so I can keep in touch." There was still no person. Just that voice, decidedly feminine but dangerous. 

Aiofe stared about him, swallowing hard. 

"Shy huh?" The voice began again when Aiofe didn't reply."last guy was like that, didn't last long. An you seem completely at odds in his clothes." 

Aiofe shuttered, trying not to think about what could have happened to the last guy. surely history isn't so dangerous of a career that one's life is at sake? 

"My name is Aiofe. may I ask your name?" 

"Moi, my name is Moi." The figure answered as she materialized next to one of the bookcases, stepping out of shadow as if appearing from thin air. 

She was not at all what Aiofe was expecting, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting.