"In answer to your question, I have no idea how there came to be planets circling the streamer", sighs Charybdis as we draw near to the planet, and I give voice to something that has quickly come to a source of some confusion for me. "The conditions must simply be right for them. The streamer doesn't appear to lash around at all, so a stable orbit can be attained and maintained..."

All I know about The Hyperstream, I learned from Darkhawk, and that's not a lot. Charybdis, on the other hand, knows a whole lot more - the Overlords have been here before. Glitterthorn was able to operate without difficulty when he came to Mane-of-Night's rescue after she got separated from Darkhawk during their first, and rather unexpected visit to this reality, and after that initial foray, he and his fellow Overlords have clearly been doing significant research into this place. I'm certain my companion knows secrets I can't begin to imagine - and my ineffectual probing with questions only reveals that Charybdis will not readily betray the trust she has earned. For now, I shall just have to be satisfied with the belief that she knows enough to keep us from getting killed.

We establish an orbit that keeps us on the planet's "night-side", sheltered from the light and energy of the streamer, and midway between the upper reaches of the barely-breathable atmosphere and the narrow belt of rocky fragments we're about to explore - when the time is right. "We wait until the portion of the debris field containing the shard moves into the planet's shadow", says Charybdis, obviously not at all happy with having to wait. "There's no sense in exposing ourselves to unnecessary danger - and this place has plenty of potential for that."

Thankfully, the wait isn't a long one, and Charybdis doesn't have time to get "wound up" before we need to start getting ready. I know I can survive in space, wrapped in a layer of Brightspace, and Charybdis has told me, rather cryptically, that "nowhere dark can harm me", but we're taking added precautions, calling upon two of the ship's shape-shifting Val'haedran crew to act as "space suits" for us. "They've carried out such a task before, for Mane-of-Night", Charybdis tells me, as the creatures assume snake-like forms, and start wrapping themselves around us. "This should be... interesting."

The Val'haedrans form a "second skin" like leather, concentrating much of their mass on our backs, heads and shoulders, their internal energy conduction systems providing us with effective heating air recycling capabilities, based in our "back packs". The helmets aren't as close-fitting, with a curved transparent visor of an amber-tinted material much like the "glass" of the ship's external view ports, but I still feel a little... trapped - I'm more accustomed to open spaces, like the treetops of Mystalorn, or the total freedom of Brightspace, and even the inside of a ship like Dominion One can sometimes feel restrictive...

"Easy, now", advises Charybdis, her hand on my arm. "I know what you're feeling. We were both in that cave behind the waterfall, never knowing if we were ever going to be found, not knowing if our Soul-Sisters even knew we existed..."

"I... I never thought of that", I murmur back, and it's the truth. We are very much alike, not quite "Soul-Selves" in the true sense, but more than common siblings for our respective sisters. Both Darkhawk and Vaarla were born on Ealvonhai, although not by natural means, and no-one had ever suspected that they, too, could have magical counterparts, other "selves"...

Charybdis's touch becomes a firm grip, her fingers encircling my upper arm. "Let's focus on what brought us here", she says firmly. "We... we can discuss the rest later, once we have the shard."

So, you're not as cool and calm as you like to make yourself out to be, I think to myself. Not so much your "sister's sister" after all.

The ship drifts further out on its orbit to meet the rocky ring encircling the planet, our course adjusted to near-perfection to bring us into position amongst the drifting planetary fragments seconds after the asteroid we seek drops into the shadows with us. The ship finds a perfect spot for landing in a shallow crater, and latches itself securely to the floating rock before we even consider opening an external hatch, let alone take a step outside. Charybdis's excitement is clearly growing with every passing second, but even she knows there are checks that must be made, rules that must be obeyed, or calamity is assured...

"Let the Val'haedran grow 'claws' for you", she advises me as the deck opens up between us, revealing the bleak surface of the asteroid below, illuminated by the pale purple light of Val'haedran energy conduits in the ceiling. "There's almost no gravity, so trust them to keep you safe, even if that means moving a lot more slowly than I'd like..."

With tendrils that extend from the ceiling of our exit bay attached to our "suits" for safety, we lower ourselves onto the asteroid, and start to clamber across its surface to a pitch-black cleft in the rock a short distance away. Even though each step requires me to wait for my Val'haedran companion to release its grip, then hook onto the ground again, our progress is quite swift once we become accustomed to the "stop and go" nature of our journey, and in less than half an hour, we step into that chasm of absolute darkness, and our Val'haedran companions have to generate their own amber light to enable us to go any further.

Charybdis stops every few steps to check the detector, still strapped to her arm and visible through a transparent bubble her Val'haedran has formed over it. "Yes... yes...", she mutters. "Nearly there..."

I try to reach out with my senses, my mind, to feel around for the energy my companion is following. Overlord energy is somewhat familiar to me, having sensed Glitterthorn's presence several times, and felt his aura lingering on Mane-of-Night from time to time, but what I feel isn't quite the same. Charybdis seems to be realising this too, stopping more and more often, sometimes checking her detector twice, three times in quick succession - I have the definite feeling she's going to be disappointed...

"It... it's not here", she whispers, glancing around frantically. "It's not here...!"

There was a source of something that feels very much like Overlord energy here at one time, and for long enough to leave a lingering impression in the rocks where it lay, but that source is now gone. I reach out to Charybdis, hoping to offer her a reassuring touch, but before my fingers come into contact with her "suit", she doubles over, as though punched in the gut.

"Nooooo...!", she wails, choking on tears. "I... I can't go back without it! I can't fail Mistress Vaarla again...!"

The darkness around us shudders, as though it were alive, somehow - alive and afraid, pressing itself against the walls, squeezing itself into the cracks, and threatening to carry me with it. Whether my companion likes it or not, I have to call upon my own powers, enclosing myself and my Val'haedran in a layer of Brightspace just shallow enough for me to maintain physical contact with Charybdis, and still protect myself.

I try to reach her with telepathy: ***Charybdis? Charybdis, please listen...***

My mind touches hers, makes definite contact, but elicits little response. My companion is panicking, and if I don't stop her, she could tear the asteroid apart. I have no idea what this is likely to do, but I can see no other way to bring Charybdis to her senses than to confront her with her absolute opposite - as a creature of the shadows, with darkness woven into her hair, her very being, I have to show her the light.

I bring the girl into my "cloak" of Brightspace, and she lets out a choking gasp as though she's been thrown into a freezing lake, the "living" darkness in her hair, and which sometimes leaks from her eyes, evaporating at the touch of my brightness. After a few seconds, I release her back into the "normal" world, and the natural darkness around us seems to "relax" - but, alas, the same cannot be said for Charybdis herself.

"Never, ever do that again!", she shrieks, slapping at my chest with both hands, then retreating into the shadows, the light from her "suit" switched off, as though she's trying to "recharge" herself in the darkness. "You... your light... it - it was eating me..."

"I had no idea", I murmur. "You were losing control - I had to do something..."

She doesn't answer immediately, but when she does, her tone has changed completely. "Thank you", she says softly. "I am... grateful - but that doesn't change the fact that I've failed my Mistress..."

"Not necessarily", I reply, fumbling around for some way to salvage this situation. "Isn't it possible to trace where the shard went from here? Surely something that powerful must leave some kind of trail?"

"I don't know...", whimpers Charybdis; such a change from her normal almost over-confident manner. "Maybe..."

"Will you let me try?"

For a few moments, there's no reply, then Charybdis's suit lights, in her visor and down the arms and legs, come back on. "I owe you a chance", she tells me, her confidence clearly returning, along with her usual haughty demeanour. "Do your best not to disappoint me."

"I'm more concerned about disappointing myself", I retort. After all, I have more to lose, I add as a private afterthought.

I peer into the darkness, my mind making that lightlessness, and even the normally impermeable stone, completely irrelevant as I go seeking energies whose existence transcends such things as light and matter. As I've experienced before, everything in this strange universe, its volume limited by the power output of the energy streamer, resists all attempts to probe and manipulate it, on the physical, psychic and even the magical level - so rather than try to force one's will upon this reality, why not try to go with the flow...?

The "flow" begins in the streamer, that incredible celestial source of all energy in The Hyperstream, and that is, also, where everything ends; gas, dust, rock, whole worlds, all eventually drawn back into the cosmic maelstrom from which they came, in a cycle that's existed for millions, billions of years. In touching that flow, I start to see what eyes cannot, what senses cannot truly comprehend. Is The Hyperstream alive? I can't say for certain - maybe it's a kind of life evolved beyond all comprehension - but it does seem to react to alien energies, in a way curiously similar to how an animal reacts to a chemical or biological irritant. Irritated, this realm... scratches itself - maybe not the best way to describe the reaction, but the closest my small, limited mind can come to a comparison - and once "scratched", that itch leaves a brief mark, an inflammation of sorts...

...and I can see that disturbance, close to the surface of the tightly-woven fabric of The Hyperstream. I think I can see where we need to go.

I head back to the ship, and Charybdis follows, bewildered, but not daring to interrupt my thoughts. By the time she's climbed back aboard, and shed her Val'haedran "suit", I'm already on the command deck, studying the holographic space-chart of this section of The Hyperstream, trying to match what I experienced when I touched the... the soul of The Hyperstream to the worlds and energy currents that have been mapped out in the air around me.

"Somebody stopped here, and found the shard", I tell my companion. "They carried it away from here, not knowing in the slightest what they'd found - and so they're not trying to conceal it, shield it from detection. The Hyperstream feels its presence, and when we touch, I can feel it too..."

My finger almost subconsciously traces a path along the energy streamer, past a band of space-rubble, past a small, star-like body of compressed, super-heated gasses that has only years, maybe months left to burn... then stops at another planet. "Here", I announce. "The trail stops here..."

"Stops?", queries Charybdis, hopefully. "The shard was taken to that world, and - and it's still there?"

"Either that, or it ceased to exist", I answer. "I don't think that happened, though - local space is still reacting to ongoing, constant exposure to the shard's energies... a bite, more than an itch."

"You are being very strange", remarks Charybdis, with a suggestion of sneering. "If you are right, however, I will gladly overlook it."

My companion turns away from the holo-map. "Come", she says firmly, not quite ordering me, as she starts to walk away, towards the command deck's hidden exit. "I... we must not fail this time, and to ensure that, we must consult a higher source of knowledge..."

Intrigued, I follow, and Charybdis leads me to a small chamber behind the command centre, where a single Val'haedran is in residence, monitoring and maintaining a cluster of devices that have clearly not been made using the strange, near-organic technology its race has mastered. One object in particular stands out - a hexagonal display unit, a near-transparent panel framed in gold, twice as wide as it is deep, that floats a hand's thickness above the pedestal on which it was intended to rest. A familiar symbol dominates the display - two symbols that look like snakes, one red, one green, entwined around each other.

The mark of the Faenri...

...to be continued...