reclamation

[Phelan]

Phelan had rode for hours without stopping. Somewhere in his travels he had veered west farther than he had meant to and had reached the coast. The smell of salt refreshed him as he washed himself in the warm water of the sea. His gaze drifted to green-blue water on the horizon. What is beyond the water? He wondered.

Is there another land beyond the sea? I could go there and start a new life, one where I am free. Free to make my own choices, I could live alone, where I will hurt no one. Phelan wondered if there were grand trees that one might make a city like Telethin, Phelan had always wanted to walk through the high paths of the city. Thoughts of Telethin brought back thoughts of Aramis, his mentor, his friend....his victim.

Phelan's mind relived the moment. Suddenly he was back in the woods facing Aramis once again. Phelan looked from Aramis to the elves at his side and back again. Phelan closed his eyes... "This is a dream, No....This isn't real.." He whispered and opened his eyes. He was still holding the swords that Aramis had given him and was still facing his mentor.

Phelan watched in horror as he moved in a blur, but time seemed to slow. He could hear the birds and the wind; He could smell Aramis as he slowly drew close to him. Phelan watched as the blades drifted toward the soft flesh of his one true friend. He tried to close his eyes but he couldn't, he felt the sword bite into the flesh and scrape across the bones beneath. He could feel the warmth of the blood that flowed from Aramis and smell the copper tinged air. Every thing moved so slow Phelan felt his hands tremble, the birds lept into the air the peacefullness of the land had been violated. Phelan closed his eyes.

Phelan opened his eyes to the Sea, the salt smell clinging to his nose. He washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Phelan took a deep breath and turned toward his horse, but the horse was gone.

The sun glared down at him and the waves of heat rolled off the sand around him. Phelan began following the tracks of the horse in the sand, they were leading North anyways, that was the way he needed to go. Sooner or later the horse will need water, Phelan thought, that is where I will catch it. Phelan stripped off his heavy cloak and the thick white shirt. The mark that was once on his chest had faded, nothing more than an outline in a lighter shade of his dark skin. Phelan focused his blue eyes ahead and trudged on.

"Why do you torment me?!" Phelan screamed at the sky after a few hours of walking. " Does it bring you pleasure? Does it? To bring pain upon me?!! Innorukk I know you can hear me!!"

The suns heat seemed to flare though the brightness dimmed. Phelan felt as if though the hot air would suffocate him. Thick clouds gathered and blotted the sun from the sky, Darkness surrounded Phelan.

Phelan was lifted from the ground by an unseen force, his arms drawn out as if there were ropes about them. Phelan was wracked with a spasm of pain throughout his body. Phelan rose his chin in defiance.

A dark laughter surrounded Phelan.

"You have always amused me, child. You amuse me still and for that reason you are still alive. Who do you think has seen that you always come through your encounters? Who do you think gifted you with your prowess? The elf? Please! I gave you the gift, he mearly honed it, defined it. It was you who refined it more, you are like an artists with your swords, yet you shy away from it. You puzzle me in ways I never thought possible, oh dear Phelan..." A deep, dark and charasmatic voice said. " You should feel honored... Not many stand in my presence and live... but as I said before you amuse me.." An outline of a man twice as tall as the Barbarians of the north appeared before Phelan.

"I am no ones slave...I don't amuse anyone..." Phelan said raising his chin higher. "Destroy me if you must, but I am not your servant."

The shadow of a man in front of Phelan threw back his head in laughter once more.

"You are my servant weather you like it or not. I created you, you do exactly as I wish, weather you know it or not." Said the voice.

"You will see, You will, one day the races of the worlds will unite and rise against the oppressive Gods. You may be Titans among us but even the mightiest will fall." Phelan said without thinking. Confronting a God and you have to go and insult him, threaten him, what is wrong with you? He thought to himself. Maybe I want him to destroy me, save me from the pain of living. He thought.

"Go now my servant, live and know that I grant your every breath." The Spectre said one last time before the sun flared to life once again and Phelan dropped to the hot sand.

Blood pooling beneath him in the sand and quickly turning to a sticky goop. Phelan turned his head and vomitted. He lay very still for a few hours before trying to find his feet and walk once more. His head spun as he staggered about trying to gain his balance.

Once Phelan finally could stand still he looked himself over and saw sand sticking to his chest in the deep gashes marring his dark flesh. Phelan began truding once more as the sun slipped the bounds of the sky and the cold of night took the land.

[Phelan]

Phelan shiverred as he plodded on through the desolate dessert, following the shore line hoping that he may find his horse. His knees ached and his head pounded, blood still tinged his mouth with a coppery taste.

How can a place be so extreme? Like the fires of the Abyss during the day and as cold as the North lands at night? Phelan thought. Phelan sat down as Luclin rose on the horizon. He hugged his legs close to his chest and shiverred as he watched the beautiful white orb rise into the stared night sky. Phelan tried to focus but conciousness wouldn't stay with him, he fell over into the sand and the darkness found him once again.

Phelan stood in a place that held no natural light yet he could see a few strides infront of him. Sounds of creatures surrounded him. Phelan reached for his swords and groped at air, fear surged through him. Phelans heart pulsed as if it were a war drum, each pump felt in his chest as if someone had punched him.

Phelan's ears quickly sharpened and made of for the lack of visiblity. He could hear the drip of liquid and the sound of sharp objects scrapping against the hard ground. A scream filled the air about him and that distinct smell of copper filled the air.

I am dead, Phelan thought, I am dead and this is the Abyss. Phelan felt the bile rise in his throat but supressed the urge to empty his stomachs contents. Phelan crouched on the hard cool floor and froze, he knew that he would suffer weather it was here or somewhere else. These creatures thrived on tormenting their victims and he would not give them the pleasure of the chase. Phelan closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

A sharp stab tore into his side, Phelan's eyes shot open unconciously. To his suprise there was an oppressive warmth around him and the azure blue sky was above him. He rolled away from the attack and ungracefully found his feet. There in front of him was a crab that had been trying to tear him open to eat. Phelan kicked the ugly thing fiercely and a dull crack resonated through the creature and radiated into the air. The crab fell and didnt' move again a large crack appearant in its shell.

Phelan quickly inspected his newest wound on his side, it was not life threating but it was deep enough to make him fall unconcious if he didn't take care of it. He quickly took an inventory of all that he had with him, leather pants, leather boots, a sword belt and swords. He shook his head in disappointment, he should have had more supplies than that. I know better than to leave without proper gear, do I have a death wish? He thought as he scooped some sand in his hand.

The sun had only just risen into the sky yet the sand was already almost too hot to handle. He grit his teeth and packed the sand into the wound. This will have to work untill I get to Freeport, he thought. It had only been a day since he had left his sister far to the south and already he was in need of water. His throat was dry and his lips cracked, he knew that he couldn't drink from the sea, the salt would just speed the process. He glanced at the carcass of the crab, he shuddered at the thought of trying to slurp down the contents.

I have little choice, he thought, thinking a bit clearer now. He broke off a leg and looked at the gelatinious material that passed for muscle in the thing. He raised the leg to his lips and sucked, drawing the slimy gel into his mouth. Phelan gagged but covered his mouth with his other hand, he swallowed hard. His body tried several times to free the vile substance from his stomach, unsucessfully. Phelan stood doubled over for many minutes after his body's rending had stopped, he was taking several deep breaths. He closed his eyes and wiped his mouth. Finally he stood upright and began his weary plod toward the north.

Heat waves danced on the horizon in front of him, a constant reminder that the sun was bearing down its fury all about him. His hands occasionally brushed against the pommels of his swords, the brief contact with the metal seared his skin each time, drawing a growl from Phelan every time as well.

[Phelan]

The hours wore on as Phelan struggled through the hot sand. Phelan's white hair was an off shade of white, not the brilliant snow white it had been. His hair was damp and stuck to his face, knotted and curled.

Phelans bare chest had darkened to a deeper shade, he hadn't thought that possible. He winced with every step, the sand in his boots was like stepping on thousands of dagger points. He knew that his feet were raw and bloody, he had felt the blisters pop days ago only to be replaced with yet another blister.

The only reprive from the oppressign heat was the freezing temperatures that nightfall brought. Phelan spent the nights under the sand, cursing the day he had stripped off his shirt and cloak. Two days had passed since his last nightmare, he had thought they would continue, but they hadn't. Phelan thought back to his encounter with Innorukk and hate filled him as he remembered the immense pain that had engulfed him.

Phelan glanced at the sun which was hanging low in the west, he sighed, not wanting to spend another night in this barren waste. He was enjoying the solitude, it was amazing how much he enjoyed it. It had been so long since there wasn't someone at his side constantly.

Phelan thought of his son and the great peril that he was in. Phelan hung his head in shame, I ran away, he thought. He needed me and I left him to the winds of fate. Adaun will prevail, she has to, he told himself.

He was roused from his thoughts by the sound of a horse. It wasn't his horse he knew, for he had found that stupid beast dead on the seas edge, head still in the water. Phelan looked up to see three Barbarians riding to the west of him. Phelan followed their dust trail back from where they had come and saw the outlines of buildings. Phelan sighed with relief and began trudging a bit harder ahead, He fell every ten steps or so, but the city soon grew on the horizon and the din from the streets could be heard from where he was at.

Almost there, he thought. Phelan walked past the two guards at the front of the city, they didn't glance in his direction, Phelan brushed off the sand that had stuck to his sweat covered chest as he walked into the all to familar streets of Freeport.

[Phelan]

Phelan walked into the first inn he came to. As he stepped through the door several people turned and stared at him, Phelan sighed with relief as he took in the plesant temperature of the inn.

Phelan found a table in the corner and slumped into the chair. It was as if all of the fatigue now caught up with Phelan. He felt exhausted on his way here but now, now he would have rather been dead. Phelan tilted his head back and his eyelids closed involuntarily.

His head jerked up in response to a loud thud on the table in front of him. Phelan's hands grabbed for the hilts of his swords, his eyes wildly seeking the source of the noise. A soft hand upon his chest put him at ease, as he looked up to an attractive but older elf who was wearing light green robes and had leaves about her hair. She smiled at him with eyes that held more wisdom than they should have and bowed before taking her leave of the inn.

Phelan watched her in puzzlement as she left. He eyes finally fell to the table, there was a large glass of water and a plate of food in front of him. Why would an elf show me kindness? Phelan thought as he took a sip of water.

The weariness left his body as he ate. The more he thought about the elf that had given him his dinner, the more he knew that he had known her some how. It gnawed at him not being able to remember her and if he did know her why hadn't she said anything.

Phelan finished the food and went to the inn keep and got a room for the night. Phelan wanted to get a good nights sleep before he decided anything. He ended up in the bed with in moments of entering the room.

Phelan awoke in the glade where he had spent the earlier years of his life. Instantly he felt like he was home. For some reason though he had a sense of forboding, like something important was happening. It was a strange feeling, something he had never felt before.

Phelan sat down amongst the trees listening to the beautiful sounds of nature. Phelan's mind soon overlooked the urgency that had plagued it only moments before. Phelan could have sat in that spot for a life time and not had another worry.

Dark clouds rolled in over Phelans head and it began to rain. Phelan heard voices approaching, he quickly got to his feet and scrambled up a tree. An older man wandered into view talking to a woman who was bent over some flowers, they were just getting within a distance where Phelan could hear them.

"He acts like an elf, but he isn't one, how can that be?" Said the elderly who was leaning heavily on his staff. Phelan wondered who this old hunched over human in long white robes was. Phelan wondered if they were talking about Gaien.

The woman still had not moved, she appeared to be cupping some flowers in her hands and singing to them. She was dressed in light green robes and a staff lay near her on the ground, leaves adorned her brown hair. Phelan was careful to not make a sound, he didn't want any more conflicts.

"He wasn't rasied amongst his people. It is something that has plagued him all his life and plagues him still." Said the same melodic voice that had been singing to the flowers. The woman stood and joined the old man in the middle of the clearing.

"Is that why he runs? He feels he doesn't belong?" Said the old man with a smile. The rain was still falling and Phelan wondered what the two were doing out in the weather.

The woman turned and if Phelan hadn't known better, he would have said she looked right at him and smiled. Phelan was in shock, he knew her, it was her the elf that he couldn't remember. His foot slipped and he fell from the tree. He clenched his teeth and tried to roll his body so that he wouldn't break anything. He waited for the sickening crunch that would let him know he had hit the ground. The wind rushed by his ears and he knew that any second now he would feel an eruption of pain.

Phelan awoke in the bed of the inn thrashing his arms. He sat up in the bed and laughed as he wiped his forehead. Phelan was soaked, but the bed was dry. Phelan didn't understand it, he hadn't ever sweat that much. He stood and looked out the window, on the street stood the dark shadowed outline of a figure too large to even be a troll and it was looking up at him. Basked in only moon light no features were discernable, Phelan shuddered and climbed back into bed. For some reason he knew he would be safe in his slumber.

[Phelan]

Sleep over came Phelan once again, as soon as his head found the pillow.

Rain...rain again? Phelan thought as he looked through the ample conopy above him. Phelan groaned as he sat up and saw the man and the female elf both leaning on their staves looking at him curiously. Phelan chuckled, he had been in this situation with Aramis when they first met.

"What is one of the twisted doing here?" Said the Old man.

"Are you talking to me?" Phelan said, angered by the man's choice of words.

"I don't see any others of the evil twisted elves of Neriak. Do you?" Said the man with a slight grin.

"You don't know me how can you pass judgement on me? It may be true that I am no paladin and certainly no cleric, but still very few people are. I have made ill choices and ill consequences have happened because of them, but everyone has, I am no different from yourself." Phelan said, his heart beating in his ears, why was he telling this man about himself? Part of him had dark thoughts and dark ways of dealing with those who pried, but Phelan felt urged to tell him. For the first time he thought that his words may not fall on deaf ears.

"Your right." Said the elf. " Please accept my appology for my friend, he can be direct." She said with a glance toward the man. He merely smiled at her.

"You do know that you would be killed on sight if you were discovered here by most of the inhabitants of the city, do you not?" She said in a serious tone.

"Somethings never change and unfortunately probably never will." Phelan said with a heavy sigh. "So are you two going to kill me or let me leave peacefully?" Phelan said hoping for the later, he was too weary to fight and was tired of all the death and of all the killing in his life.

The old man quirked his eyebrow, he appeared impressed. He glanced at the elf and she merely smiled and then nodded the old man nodded back to her. What was that all about? Phelan thought.

"He is genuine...your right...even if he strays he will again find his way back to his true self." The old man said. Phelan didn't understand what the man was speaking about, humans could be so confusing. Phelan glanced down to puzzle what them man had said and when he looked back up the man and elf were gone.

I must be dreaming Phelan thought. He glanced about on the ground and couldnt' find any footprints nor even any disturbed grass. Phelan glanced about nervously, who and more importantly what were they? Was his mind still playing tricks on him?

Phelan opened his eyes and immediately slammed them closed once more as light stabbed into them. As his mind cleared from the fog of sleep he felt the blazing heat of the sun, the din of the city and the smell that only a city can bring floated to his nostrils.

Phelan rubbed his eyes, his body felt better after a good nights sleep. His muscles only had minor aches, not the massive knots that had been there the night before. His throat wasn't dry anymore and his body didnt' shudder violently trying to adjust to the extreme change of temperatures.

Phelan stood and searched the floor for his clothes, it took a few moments for it to dawn on him that he never bothered taking off his pants nor his boots. Phelan went into the wash room and splashed the room temperature water on himself. His hair had curled from being soaked in sweat for days without being cleansed. He spent almost an hour cleanign his hair and coming it out with the ivory bone comb laying on the counter. Phelan tied his hair back with a thin strip of linen taken from the bedding.

He looked at his reflection in the water and smiled. He nodded in approval and left the room. To find a shirt and then seek out a cleric, he thought. Even my dreams are strange and confusing, something is wrong with me. He told himself as he walked out the front door of the inn and on to the sandy streets of Freeport.

[Phelan]

Phelan walked toward the bank, it was located in the Market. As he plodded along at a meandering stroll he was shocked to find himself enjoying the warmth of the sun. I guess being in the comforts of civilization I am not in danger of roasting to death. He thought as he smiled.

Phelan realized that he very well could have perished on his brazen and ill planned journey. His mind kept dwelling upon his own mortality and how much of the pettiness that plagued his home land was absolute meaningless rabble, dust in the wind. To enjoy life with every breath, that is really living, he thought as he walked on. The sky was a beautiful azure blue and not a single cloud marred its brilliant beauty. Phelan found comfort in the smells of food wafting from the vendors not far ahead, even the smell of people who have been traveling all day wasn't unplesant.

Phelan saw a plain white shirt hanging on a merchant stand and a black cloack amongst the merchants wares also. He walked near the stand, the merchant was bickering with a necromancer over the cost of fine silk robe. Phelan knew that the deminuative gnome was a necromancer by the sweet smell of spices and the hint of death that clung about him, altogether it was an intruiging smell. Phelan quietly waited for them to finish, he smiled in amusement at the display.

After a few minutes the gnome walked away cling the robe to his chest as if it were made of gold and the merchant looked to Phelan.

"What can I do for you?" The merchant said with a sly smile. The human had an infectious quality about him, you couldn't help but smile when he talked to you.

"I would like that white shirt you have hanging there and the cloak on that rack." Phelan said pointing to a rack in the back of his small hut. The merchant was beginning to give a price as Phelan slapped down 200 Tunar and smiled.

"That is the price isn't it?" Phelan said. The merchant looked like a fish out of water sucking air, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Yes, my friend, that is right, these are two of the most rare garments I have ever seen. I picked this up from an elf, he claimed that this shirt was enchanted in an elvish glade near his home ...." The merchant rambled on.

Phelan knew this was for the benifit of the merchant, so that he didn't look like a crook, but something in his story hit home, an elvish glade. His thoughts seemed to keep being pulled there, he had stopped listening to the merchant mulling the possiblity, that he had misheard the man, over in his mind. When Phelan's attention refocused to the merchant the man was carefully gathering the cloak.

"....claimed this was also the cloack he wore fighting the scourge of the elven lands, the teir ' da.... ah well never mind that it is a great piece of linen. " said the merchant suddenly looking worried.

Phelan smiled.

"With such history upon these garments I can't imagine that I have gone wrong in buying them from you." Phelan said and offered the merchant a wink to let him know that he hadn't offended Phelan at all.

Phelan pulled the shirt over his head and slung the cloak about his shoulders and drapped down his back almost as if it was made for him. Phelan quickly pushed the thought to back of his mind, all elves are about the same size, it is just coincidence, he thought. Phelan strolled aimlessly through the streets he was nervous to see a cleric, if one would see him, what could he do anyways?

Phelan enjoyed being in freeport, here most people looked at him any differently than anyone else. Troll, Elf, Halfling, Gnome, Tier'Dal, Barbarian, whatever, in Freeport it didn't matter, only money did. Phelan lost himself amongst the crowds and soon found himself near the docks. Sounds of battle could be heard from a small arena to the north and the sounds of the stables to the south. Phelan sat on the end of the dock gazing out across the tranquil sea.

Phelan was roused from his thoughts as a portly human in chain mail sat down next to him. The man was slightly balding and his cheeks and nose were an angry red color, presumably from the sun. Phelan looked at him for a few moments and then turned his attention back out to the waters beyond him.

"Looks like heavy thoughts rest upon your shoulders... Is everything ok?" The man said to Phelan.

"No, but they will be someday I hope." Phelan said flatly as the despair creaped upon him as he was forced to face his fears.

"Care to talk about it with a friendly ear to listen?" The jovial man said.

"What do you care of my woes and strifes? My suffering is no concern of yours, why plague yourself with listening to it?" Phelan said quietly.

"My name is Zaceerius, I am a healer, everyones pain is my buisness." He said with a wink.

"A healer? I was seeking a cleric, but I lost my resolve, I am not sure a cleric can help me." Phelan said now looking to the man.

"Well if talking about it can't fix it, magic can't fix it and prayer can't fix it, I know a great little place where we can drink ourselves into oblivion and reasses our lives." Zaceerius said with a comforting smile. "Why don't we go for a walk and just have a little talk. What do you say?"

Phelan just shrugged and climbed to his feet. I am alive, he reminded himself as he began walking down the dock next to the man who must have been a cleric from the way he talked.

[Phelan]

Phelan walked along with the man in silence for a long while. Phelan found the mood relaxing, his worries slipped from his mind.

"So Zaceerius, were you born in Freeport?" Phelan asked once they were outside of the city's commotion.

"Yes I was orphaned and raised by the clerics here. " He said with a smile.

"I am sorry to hear that, I am an orphan too, probably by different means than you were though." Phelan said softly.

"Don't be sorry, it is my life, without it I would not be who I am today. So what do you mean by a different means?" Zaceerius asked.

Phelan glanced at the man with a reluctant look, Zaceerius smiled at him. Phelan felt the tension easy from him. His throat still felt constircted as he spoke, but his voice didn't break and no tears fell from his eyes.

"When I was young, my house, House Seladria was attacked destroyed. The invaders thought that they had killed everyone of the house as is the way in Neriak." An angry tone entered Phelan's voice as he spoke of the ways of Neriak. "I was outside of the city at the time and my sister somehow escaped also." Phelan said determined not to talk about his past.

"Ahh I see, my parents died from a disease and I was found in an inn by a woman who took me to the clerics." Zaceerius said again, still smiling.

The two continued on for awhile again with out speaking. Phelan couldn't hold it in anymore, he wanted to vent about his past, how it wasn't fair and that everyones life he touched he wrecked. Phelan stopped and looked Zaceerius in the eyes.

"I need to talk, but after I say what I have to say you may not want to talk to me anymore. " Phelan chuckled. " You may not belive some of my more recent adventures and expeirences and you may think me mad, but this is what I came here to do and I just have to tell someone."

"I will not judge you, feel free to speak without worry." the portly cleric said cheerfully.

Phelan spent the next few hours relating his tales to the cleric. Phelan struggled to tell it through many tears and clenched teeth. Zaceerius sat quietly listening, giving Phelan comfort as he needed it and allowed him the time to grieve and vent as Phelan needed.

Phelan noticed that never once did Zaceerius flinch at any of Phelans stories, never once did he appear bored with Phelan's ramblings, in fact deep in the clerics eyes Phelan could see honest intrest and sympathy. Phelan didnt' stop, nor did he with hold any minute detail. Phelan spoke his fears of being nothing more than Innorukk's pawn for the first time out loud. He spoke of the encounter with Innorukk, which Phelan believed was real, but wasn't sure. Phelan told Zaceerius about Gaien and then hearing his voice, which ultimately led to Phelan abandoning his family.

When Phelan finished he felt as if a great wieght had been lifted from him. The setting sun somehow seemed brighter now than it had all day. Zaceerius sat for several moments before responding.

[Phelan]

Zaceerius' face held a grave expression as he looked at Phelan.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" Zaceerius asked quietly.

"Of course, that is why I came here, to find peace and heal..... I want to be with my family, but not at the cost of their saftey." Phelan said.

"Very well, but I warn you, you will not like the answer.... My conclusion is that you are trying to be someone your not. Deep down, you are still a Tier'Dal regardless of what you think. Your violent side will arise the more you repress it and the more you repress it the more it will put those near you in danger. I suggest that you embrace what you are, not be ashamed of it. This may sound odd coming from a human cleric but you must be what you are. Humans act as humans and Elves as elves and Tier'Dal as Tier'dal should.

You are alone now Phelan, you are an elf amongst Tier'dal yet with the elves you will be a Tier'dal amongst the elves. Your choices are fairly simple, return to Neriak as a true Tier'Dal warrior or spend your life wandering. If you choose to wander the lands, I warn you, your episodes will get worse and you will end up hating yourself forever for the crimes you will commit. If you return to Neriak, you must leave your family, they will be a constant reminder of what you are not." Zaceerius said with a very empathetic tone. He placed his hand on Phelan's shoulder before standing.

Phelan barely acknowledged Zaceerius' hand upon his shoulder. Phelan sat trying to find some fault in what Zaceerius had said. Unable to find a fault in the clerics thinking at the moment, Phelan let out a ragged breath and climbed to his feet.

"Thank you Zaceerius, you have helped me a great deal, good travels upon you." Phelan said.

"And to you as well Phelan of the house Saledria." Zaceerius said with a smile.

Phelan turned away from Zaceerius and headed off toward the north without looking back. Phelan felt a new wieght upon his shoulders as he trudged north and felt a darkness settle about him.

Zaceerius stood watching Phelan leave witha smile on his face. Phelan had been too distraught at the answer to his question to notice that it wasn't a smile intended for him. Zaceerius turned and let the illusion fall from him, replaced by his true form, the shadow too tall to be even a Barbarian or Troll stood laughing to himself as Phelan trudged away. Slowly Innorukk faded into the long shadows of the early night without a trace.

more in Rise of Shadow, the Legacy begins