"Why Scythe?" Demonclaw pleaded, "It's not too late to end this peacefully."
    "Wake up, Demon," Scythe scowled, "Ulmerad has ruled as King for more than a hundred years, it's time for change! He has become weak and decrepit, and so has Ikros itself with him."
    "I never figured you for a stooge, Scythe," Demonclaw sighed, shaking his head, "buying into the party line was never your thing."
    "We're on the winning side, Demon, it's not too late, come with us and rule this country!"
    "You're hiding behind a woman.  I'm not going to join a group that must do that to succeed!"
    "Heh..." Scythe chuckled, "it's funny, Vione wasn't a joiner either."
    "What??" Demonclaw jumped.
    "She wouldn't come with me, she wouldn't join us.  That was her mistake."
    "So you killed her to shut her up..." Demonclaw said slowly.
    "I did what I had to do, Demon.  I loved her, and she loved me, but she didn't want to join me, and I couldn't have that." Scythe was beginning to ramble, and Garalt was beginning to doubt his sanity.  But Garalt was surprised by Demonclaw's reaction.  Faced with the man who killed his love so long ago, he wasn't showing any sort of emotion what so ever.  In fact, he was showing an eerie calmness that Garalt had never seen in the man.

    His moves were deliberate and slow, moving to stare at Greylen.  Garalt had not been paying much attention to the captive mage this entire time, and Greylen seemed to be showing the same calmness that Demonclaw was.  As Demonclaw nodded slightly to Greylen, a thought hit Garalt's mind.  Demonclaw and Greylen had a plan.  A plan that they had practiced before.  That's why they were so calm.  
    "Scythe," Demonclaw turned back to the man, "Vione never loved you... ever!"