And again, another installment in the ongoing saga of Jennifer-doesn't-want-to-write-a-real-diary-entry.

Before I continue with this tale, I should explain something I have always taken as normal. In the Mundane � the human world � time passes at the same rate regardless as to where you travel. When you pass from one time zone to another, you might have to adjust your watch, but you have no risk of leaving everyone else behind.

In the Realms, however, each kingdom has its own specific passage of time. In the space of one Mundane year, five years will have passed in Strathmore. During that same Mundane year, eight years will have passed in Ayenee. The Shadows � I�ll delve deeper into that place later � only double Mundane time.

Because of the specific location of Claylin�s Mountain of Souls, on the boarder of three separate kingdoms, there were three different speeds of time. I would often sit on one side of the time barrier and watch activities on the other side either fly or crawl. I loved watching Claylin rant and rave in super-slow-motion.

As an aside � I didn�t actually intend to get into this � there are only a select few who can pass through the different time barriers. I still haven�t discovered exactly why, but there are even fewer who can see them. In Claylin�s case he can neither pass through nor see the barriers. In fact, they appear to be solid rock to him. In a truly juvenile way, this knowledge made me shiver in pleasure. The mage was so proud, so arrogant in his ability and still so weak.

There were many such things that came as simple for me which � I discovered later � were virtually impossible for others. To be completely frank, I think my vast and early awareness coupled with my lack of life experience gave me the ability to believe, and see, things most others either can not or will not. A child doesn�t know about �reality�. He or she grows up in a protected cocoon with the parents describing life to them. I, on the other hand, had no one to describe, thus limit, the world to me. I was free to create my world as I desired it to be.

And I am eternally grateful for that.

Anyway, enough blathering about facts and fictions. The first six months � Mundane time � of my post-partum life were spent in academic studies. I learned all the basics, ending up with the equivalent of a Mundane high school education. Claylin planned this very carefully. He wanted me to be well-read, but not too well-read.

The mage tested me frequently and harshly, prompting me to apply myself in order to avoid discipline � I�ll discuss some of his disciplinary methods later� maybe. Each test Claylin gave resulted in his increased nervousness. He wasn�t sure how much longer he would be able to contain me as I continually surprised him with the speed of my learning. I also surprised him with the speed of my physical growth. By the time he was satisfied with my understanding, I had been through nearly ten years of actual time.

Because Claylin couldn�t fathom the difference in time, it was a huge surprise to him when I aged ten years in what he experienced as six months. There would be too much confusion in regard to the minutia of how time passes for each separate individual to explain. Suffice it to say I understood the advantages behind spending months in one place only to discover that I�d been gone no longer than a few hours in Claylin�s world.

Besides, it messed with his head and I liked that.

After he was satisfied with my academic knowledge, Claylin turned toward more aggressive lessons. I was tasked with devouring all information on fighting: magic, black-smithing � to properly understand how to use a sword, one must properly create a sword � firearms � Claylin wasn�t going to limit my destructive learning to only one form of weaponry � martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. He also planned for me to learn everything possible about explosive and implosive devices. He definitely wanted me to be his special assassin.

Claylin brought specialists to tutor me in theory, and he shipped me out for practice. He worked me hard, thinking that if he kept me going full tilt I wouldn�t have the time or energy to turn my knowledge against him. Because of my nifty time �trick� I was able to rest � and plan and plot his destruction � whenever I needed to.

I was introduced to martial arts first, spending up to five hours of actual time for each session � Aikido and Kung Fu were my foundation with touches of Tai Chi, Jujitsu and Karate. It took a few attempts before I got the feel of it, but to this day, martial arts hold a place of high honor in my life � something I passed on to my son, Chance. Though I can�t remember the exact duration or total time it took, by the time Claylin had lived through another eight months or so, I had spent approximately six years in daily sessions.

See, when someone dances around time as often as I do, they lose track of how long they�ve actually been alive. I can move between four or five different time zones in the course of a normal work day. The longer you try to keep track of specific time flows, the more insane you get. I don�t bother with keeping exact track anymore, I simply choose to appear as if I were in my late twenties. It saves time and garners me many lascivious stares. I like that.

Anyway, once the martial arts were well ingrained in my psyche, I was introduced to swords. Guns followed swords, military strategy followed guns, explosives and implosives followed and magic brought up the rear. I was shuttled from place to place, always in the company of guards � ostensibly for my protection � so frequently that I almost forgot Claylin existed. Almost.

At the close of three years in Claylin�s time I was, indeed, the perfect killing machine. I knew Mundane methods and weapons of war. I knew poisons for the more subtle touch. I knew magic, replete with fireballs and weather control. I knew natural and chemical explosives as well as vacuum and psychic implosives. The piece de resistance was finesse. I was drilled in poise, grace and courtly manners; and I learned how to use all of them to my best advantage. I could have � and still can � fit in with either Hell�s Angels or Royals at court. Of course, I�ve always liked the bad boys more.

When Claylin was satisfied with my training he had a test for me, wanting to prove that his creation was a complete success. He set me to the task of planning an assassination of the Queen of Strathmore � at the time I didn�t know she was my Great Grandmother. I thought about refusing the commission but acquiesced. Hell, it was something to do and I was more than ready for some real action.

In about fifteen minutes I had completed a plan for a team of six. Ten minutes later I had worked up another plan for one, so simple it couldn�t fail. I tossed both plans out of my cell and the sound of the parchment hitting the floor drew the mage�s immediate attention. He looked at the rolled parchments on the floor and glared at me.

�How dare you refuse this assignment!�

His instant rage turned to confusion as I laughed at him. �I didn�t refuse, you bastard. I�m done.�

I rolled my eyes at him then laid back on my cot slipping instantly into a meditative state. More than six hours later, during which Claylin poured over those plans, he gave up, admitting that I knew what I was doing. He spent another full day preparing supplies and the spell that would take me to the surface so that I could carry out the solo plan.

Claylin gave me boots, breeches and a tunic � Whenever I wasn�t training I was required to be naked. I�m sure that would have been distressing for a normal human but as I�ve said before, I wasn�t normal. Atop that, I had never known an existence where nakedness was something to be ashamed of. Anyway, Claylin gave me clothes, a small coin pouch and a heavily armed guard. Just before he sent me and my shadow topside, he imparted a tidbit of friendly advice.

�He will be your guide and companion until you return here. You have three days to get there, one day to kill and three more for your return.� He smiled triumphantly. �If you turn from your task or attempt to run away, the Drakelos will kill you.�

I looked from Claylin to the vaguely humanoid Drakelos � they stand erect and have two arms, two legs and a human-like head, but that�s where the resemblance ends � and held back the laughter. I adopted a look of fear, just as Claylin expected, then nodded my understanding.

�He will give you the weapons you need when you get there.� He smiled then, with a look of pride in his eyes. �Do well, my pet, and you will be greatly rewarded upon your return.�

I nodded again as he transported us to the surface. Though my thought remained silent, it brought a smile to my lips. �If I choose to return��

The transfer from dungeon to surface was a little disorienting for me � I found out later that the disruption was due to the method Claylin used rather than the transfer itself � but it was much worse for my guard. As soon as the mist of confusion cleared from my mind, I snapped my hand out, grabbing the Drakelos under the throat; the only un-armored portion of its anatomy. I extended my claws, thrusting through the heavy, leathery throat hide and twisted my hand one way then the other.

With the Drakelos� breathing sacs punctured the beast�s entire system shut down. The breathing sacs work as a bellows of sorts, pumping vitae throughout the body. When the bellows stops, all bodily functions shut down. It�s interesting if you think about it. These beasts can wreak havoc on small armies. They can be hit with rocks, bullets, arrows, fire, ice and water and still they�re impervious. But, puncture a breathing sack and suddenly you�ve got a pile of quivering � and dying � smelly Drakelos at your feet.

OF course, if you want to put forth the effort, Drakelos dermal plating makes really good and surprisingly light body armor. You could go through a lot of blades trying to skin one, though. If you want the armor, which has become extremely more expensive during my lifetime, I suggest the boiling method. Drop the carcass into a vat of boiling oil, the blacker the better, and keep it at a full boil for three days. Then, pull the shell of armor from the oil and let it dry. You�ll have a second skin from neck to ankles.

Anyway, once I�d punctured my guard�s breathing sacs he crumpled to the ground. He�d never had a chance to recover from Claylin�s transport spell. I gathered the weapons I wanted � katana, colt .45 and a couple small daggers - snagged the large money pouch the mage had given him and headed southeast.

I had seven days before Claylin would know I was gone. I actually laughed as I settled into an easy lope; the kind favored by wolves and highly trained killing machines. I vowed that I would never again be someone�s slave.

I really should think twice before making that kind of promise.