Khaylan stirred, his whole body shuddering as though life was only just now returning to his form. He let out a grown of pain, his every nerve feeling as though it were burning. [I]How did I end up on the street[/I], Khaylan thought to himself, struggling to push himself off the ground. He managed to rise to his knees, then blinked repeatedly in confusion as he realized there was a sword next to him. His sword.

"What in all the nine accursed hells happened to me?," he muttered, reaching over and stifling a moan of pain as another wave of agony slid through his body. He seized his sword, returning it to its sheath. As the sword slid home, he felt two strong arms slide under his own and pull him to his feet. Looking to either side, he saw the faces of the two knights that had been accompanying him on his foray into the village. That was when the memories came flooding back.

He thrashed and shoved both knights away, his eyes scanning the area for the whereabouts of the witch. She seemed to have slipped away while he was unconscious, however. His subconscious began to wonder why she didn't simply kill him while he lay there helpless. Witches were not known for their mercy, and the thought that he might be worse off alive sent a shudder down his spine. He glanced at the two knights at his side, wondering how much they knew about his connection with the witch. He could always deny the words of the peasants, but an accussation from not one, but two brother knights would damn him almost instantaneously. If either of them knew anything, they weren't showing it. Instead, they seemed focused on the songstress and her companions.

One of the knights approached the other group, pointing an accussatory finger at Miranda. "You. You brought a witch into the village!"

Khaylan put his hand on the shoulder of the knight. "Be at ease. Now is not the time for this."