Story: A Path of Changes and Broken Stones

To some, it is always dark in Nektulos.

The tall Teir`dal made her way down the docks from the ship she had arrived on, her slightly tattered thickly woven robes whispering silently against the wood as a lover whispers into their consort’s ear. She carried a rather stuffed pack, and an ornate long sword hung from her left hip while a small wand decorated her right.

A thin hand pulled her hood lower over her face, the other brushing a vibrant red lock back behind her ear – she knew that the unnatural colour would be a dead give away that she was not truly a dark elf, yet she lacked the skill to hide such just yet.

There was little she had to say to the Port Authorities, passing them the required amount of coin for her travels, and informing them she was merely returning home from the Enchanted Lands. They asked few questions of their more local travelers, and soon she was making her way down the beach of Port Naythex.

Once she arrived at the familiar spot at the very end of the alcove, she removed her hood and looked at her surroundings. She did not wish to camp directly upon the shores, as there were dangerous pirates in the area, and she stood a greater chance of catching the attention of the locals by doing so.

After a good deal of searching, she found a small cave in the cliff face that closed off the alcove. It seemed the cave was unused, even though it was high enough in the cliffside that it remained dry even during high tide. Once inside, it did not take the dark elf long to settle in with her few belongings – she had a simple bedroll, several books on pirates and Nektulos Forest, and a bundle of cloth that contained a strange orb and its pedestal.

Satisfied with her new environment, the woman let the illusion fall to reveal a thin Koada`dal with fiery red hair.

Tomorrow, Avaria would begin her new meditations upon the shores where she had met Brodis and heard the voices of Norrath speaking to her.



For days, she had been living upon the shores and cliffs of Naythex beach in Nektulos Forest. Each morning, she would rise and bath in the waters just outside of the cave she’d found in the cliffside before swimming down shore to where she had summoned Brodis. Each day, she would meditate there, listening to the indistinct voices all around her, waiting for them to suddenly be clear again.

The first day, she had dug into the sand until she found the blackened glass that had been left by the backlash of her ritual spinning out of control. Running a hand across its smooth surface reassured her that she was indeed back in the correct place, back to where she had first begun to hear Norrath, back to wear the voices had been crisp and clear.

Many days passed in succession without a clear word being heard, though she did her best not to be discouraged by the lack of progress; each day she tried a different meditation technique, a different chant, but each day she was greeted by the same sounds of indistinct cacophony.

Again, she woke and slipped from the bedroll, walking the short distance from the back of the cave to the lapping waters of the ocean. The tide was in and the water was close again, making it easy for her to slide into the ocean to rinse away the previous night’s sweat and grim.

She swam back to the cave, gathering up a plain brown robe before descending into the ocean once more. As she swam, she held the bundle of cloth above the water, slowly making her way along the cliffs until they finally touched the alcove beach. Upon reaching the sands, she pulled herself from the water and wrapped the robe about her body, continuing the rest of the trip by walking along the shore.

With a sigh, she sunk down onto her knees in the sand, her breath becoming slow and even as she stared out at the ocean. Eventually, her eyes closed and she let go of her thoughts and the world around her; every once in a while, the whispers of the water became audible, and she could even understand the sounds of the words Fae, and Primal One.

Opening her eyes, she looked out over the ocean again, features curious as she strained to listen to the waters. There were questions, as if the vague voices were asking one another…something.

The woman glanced down at her hands for a brief moment, and they became wreathed in a faint green fire, as if she means not to interrupt by calling it forth. The sounds of the ocean smoothed to a cool hiss, as if children were snickering at her. She blinked slightly, the fire vanishing from her hands as she tilted her head, staring at the ocean with a slight frown.

The tide pulled in slightly then, and she felt a breeze across the back of her neck. She closed her eyes as the wind brushed across the back of her neck, unconsciously leaning back as if to lean against someone in comfort; the sound of the waves kept her from completely surrendering to the feel of the wind. She opend her eyes, looking back at the ocean.

She whispered, "I don't know if you just dislike me greatly or are jealous I don't understand you as well..."

The waves receded slightly, but still crashed, although she could tell they were not as strong as before. She tilted her head, curious by the reaction the ocean made until the wind finally spoke to her.

“I am pleased to see you back, Darkfae,” the breathy voices said, “what is it you want?”

The wind blew a bit stronger, to help the woman realize her many reasons for being here. She smiled slightly, still clearly unused to the name being used for her. She glanced again at the ocean, eyes closing as the wind became stronger.

“I...wish to understand,” she began, suddenly pausing before continuing, “what I hear so vaguely since I was last here...”

A new voice, one that she had only heard in dreams, a sort of higher pitched babble, burst through her mind then. Her eyes snapped open, an almost terrified expression swirling within their pale silver depths.

“What's to understand, Darkfae? The Primal One has made it clear,” the breathy voices echoed as the babble faded away.

“Primal One? Is that what Brodis is really called?” she asked.

As she knelt there, she began to feel the ground caress her, and she sank a good three inches into the sand. She looked down as the earth beneath her moved, surprised by how gentle the motions were.

“He is what he is, Darkfae, he has no name,” the sand rumbled. “He has no cause, but to live. He is as you, and his son are.”

“Brodis was a name given to him long before those ‘gods’ were ever put out into motion this atrocity,” the multitude of voices in the ocean hissed.

“Oh...no one I knew could tell me anything like that,” she replied, looking back at the ocean, still clearly hesitant about the entity.

“No, they wouldn't, child. The name is eons old. The being, is as old as We,” the breathy voices whispered. She blinked slightly, clearly surprised by how old Brodis actually was; she had known he was old, but never thought he was that ancient.

“But you know more than you should, once again, Darkfae,” the earth rumbled. She sighed at its statement, again wondering why knowing such things was so damning.

“Which is why an end to you is still the best method,” a single voice within the ocean stated.

“Which you're clearly looking forward to,” the woman snapped back.

“Enough! Leave her be,” the earth growled. “She has come for answers, not threats!”

She frowned slightly, a fairly faint blush coming to her cheeks. The ocean hissed from, but did nothing more.

“Well, its just that...since the last time I was here,” she began, “strange things have been happening to me, all of them involving the elements of Norrath; I can hear faint whispers that are not made from fleshly beings nor ghosts, as neither shaman nor laymen can hear them.”

The earth rumbled with a jolly, amused tone that caused the sands to shift and shake beneath her legs.

“You go down a path you were warned about,” the voices in the ocean finally said.

“Child, to ask these questions, will lead to answers for which you may not wish to know,” an airy, more feminine voice breathed into the wind.

The woman sighed, frustrated by the sudden elusiveness from the elements. She had waited so long to hear them, to speak with them, and now it seemed as though they would not share their secrets with her, and that it would all become indistinct once again.

“I would rather know than wonder at what is being said, at what I'm hearing,” she replied.

“Tell her,” the chill voice of the ocean commanded.

The earth rumbled, and the woman could hear a distinct sigh of worry. She looked down into the sands with a frown, staring for only a moment as the tide pulled in once more, the edges of the water stopping about five feet from her. She tensed slightly, almost as if she was waiting to bolt from the near by water should she need to; she did not trust the ocean, and wondered if it would try to kill her instead.

“It s the voice of us, Darkfae. It is the voice of our children, our family, of you, and your,” the aquatic voices splashed, pausing before adding, “loves...”

The woman blushed faintly as she glared at the water when the last word was spoken. She had been denying what she felt for Phenix for some time, refusing to give in to those emotions until he did; even though he was so at peace when she came to sleep in his arms, she still could not let go and give in. It was something she never voiced to anyone, not even her myriad of pets, and so to hear it so boldly announced to her was unsettling.

“The kind that drake, and fae can hear,” the wind rushed, gaining strength as it spoke. The force caught her off guard, and she was knocked sideways by the wind, her hands moving to catch her as both palms landed on the soft sand. She looked upward in surprise and confusion, startled by the wind’s sudden violence.

“Drakes? Fae? I'm just an elf,” she yelped, “Why do I hear these things and other elves do not?”


“You are not ready to know those, yet, child!” the wind exclaimed, “Give it time!”

Frightened, the high elf pushed herself upward, rising to her feet and running down the beach towards the cave entrance. Without regard to her robes, she dove into the ocean, swimming as fast as she could towards the entrance to her primal home. The experience had overloaded her senses, and though she could hear the elements frantically calling her back to the shores, feel the ocean fighting her every motion, she had to escape them and calm down.

Clawing the rocky entrance, she pulled herself from the waters and into the cave. The earth was hot, and she could feel the concern within the walls of stone; the wind rushed passed the cave entrance, murmuring its own worries as the water began to retreat. The woman sunk down against the back walls of the cave, curling her body up as her hands covered her ears.

Soon, she collapsed into sleep, exhausted from the experience. That night her nightmares were stronger, more detailed than they had ever been, and she knew that the being she viewed them through was herself; the revelations made for an uneasy rest, forcing her to remain focused on what was happening.

But it was part of the path she walked…



“I can feel you, child, you're time is near. Soon you will have half the answers you seek,” the earth rumbled beneath her, causing her to sink into the sands once more.

It had been two days since she had last visited the beach; two long days of coaxing and gentle encouragement from the earth of her cave home and the rushing wind outside it. Finally, she had slipped out of the shelter and found herself pushed towards the familiar spot on Naythex beach by the ocean.

Now she rested on one side, naked, upon its shores where she had once tried to summon Brodis. She could feel the blackened glass beneath the sands, its hard surfaces cutting through the gentle beach like the blade of a sword through flesh. Her hair was unbound, curling wildly about her shoulders in small ringlets, still wet with water from the ocean.

“Child, do you wish the voices to stop?” the quiet voices of the wind asked.

“No...I wish to hear them clearly, rather than the cacophony of vague oddities I hear them as now,” she begged, hand running over the sand in front of her.

“Truly?! Do you think you can become a being of nature?” the more violent voice within the ocean shouted, “To live free, and in us?"

Her mouth hung open, and she was clearly stunned by the words of the ocean; it was the truth, and she had not realized it until the water had voiced it for her. Somewhere beyond the Koada`dal, beyond the hell fires and demons, what the water spoke of had once been who she was and how she had lived.

“She speaks true, child,” the wind rustled, “this is the path you should not take, not without being truly ready.”

Still, the woman was unable to believe the answer she already knew, and cried, “B-but...how did this happen? I know many, many other Furies, and they are but elves and men....”

The earth beneath her rumbled a simple, factual reply, “And you are not...”

She blinked again, looking down to the ground with confusion; looking at herself, at the too thin, too short Koada`dal features she knows well. It had always been clear she was unlike the other Koada`dal in Qeynos, as she was far shorter than nearly all of them, and her frame was impossibly thin compared to theirs; she knew she seemed almost ethereal in ways not natural for a high elf, but it was all too much.

“I'm...not?”

“She still does not believe,” the multitude of voices in the ocean sighed.

“Close your eyes child,” the wind whispered as it wrapped about her once more. The woman looked up slightly, hesitantly closing her eyes, her palms still firmly planted on the sand.

In her mind, she began to hear a note; it was light and beautiful, so melodic even the most talented bards could not reproduce it. Slowly, it began to gather intensity, and other notes of the same octave began to fill her head as well. These were not sounds made by instruments, but pure notes that could not be restricted by the frailties of man. She realized that she in truth heard four octaves, playing the same chorus of notes, blending them together in unity yet establishing their separate qualities.

Just as slowly as they filled her mind, they began to loose intensity once more, becoming a single note again – and then the note is gone, leaving no sound in her ears. She heard nothing for a moment...

…and then, the sound of the waves gently rolling on the sand...

“She can hear... she can hear!” the ocean cheered, only this time, she could hear each distinct, child-like voice within. Another giggle erupted from the waters, this one more feminine and innocent. In response, she nodded; her eyes still closed as if she were afraid opening them might make everything vanish.

The sound of boys, speaking together came across her ears as the wind began to blow gently across her face.

“I told you!” the mischievous boys in the waters said playfully, “See? I told you she would!”

“I...can,” the woman breathed, “And it’s clear...”

“Such a beautiful one,” the old and powerful earth said, its voice like an ancient dragon – gruff, warm, majestic, “and with such a good head on her shoulders. He did good on this one…”

“W-who?” she stammered, nearly opening her eyes.

A small flame erupted in her hand, with such intensity, his beauty could rival anything she’d ever seen, but she did not notice its physical presence, as it did not burn. The energies were warm, passionate yet tempered by a nobility and power, clearly male in nature yet not lacking in feminine qualities.

“Brodis, Darkfae!” the flame scorched, “The old bastard finally put things right!”

“Put things right....?” she asked, turning her head in the direction of the flames.

“He's showed you for what you are!” the flames flickered in response, “Now, you can come back to us!”

“No, not yet,” the ancient dragon of earth rumbled, “She's still needed where she is.”

“Needed for what?” she asked, confused.

“To finish what you started, child,” the slightly older male voice in the wind responded, his tone like that of an older brother. Warm air began to blow against her right arm, caressing it reassuringly, rushing over the intricate banded tattoos there.

“The lock!” the children within the ocean babbled, “The one that will call him back!”

“The lock...?” she puzzled aloud.

“The riddle on you arm, Avaria!” the flame sparked, “It's the key to bringing him back.”

“Oh! That...yes, I didn't know what it was,” she replied, opening her eyes and looking down at her arm, “and no one can read it...”

“Are you sure of that?” a more motherly voice within the ocean asked.

“Well, no one I've encountered yet...” the woman sighed.

“You're so close, almost to where you need to be,” the brotherly voice in the wind whispered, again wrapping about her gently.

“But not yet, child. The people need you,” the majestic earth rumbled, “The gnolls return, and the plague is all but beat...”

“Do you mean to say that I'll be able to read it?” the questions began to pour from her mouth, “and who exactly is it that needs me? It seems I can vanish without anyone caring...”

“Keep at it, oh please try!” the aquatic children rushed, drowning out everything else for a moment with their playful encouragement.

“Child, we care, as do those around you,” a new voice in the wind replied, its tone older and more fatherly than the first.

“I know you do - I meant those in Qeynos,” the woman replied with a sigh, “and Antonica and especially Castleview. I just mean...I feel as though I'm not supposed to be there...”

“You're not... But it's the path you've chosen,” the noble fire yawned, “and the path chosen for you.”
She frowned slightly and asked, “Chosen for me? By who?”

The flame about her hand flickered and dimmed slightly as it replied, “By those, who wish not to remember you. It is life, and death, child, one day, you will understand better...”

“Very well, I suppose,” she sighed, leaning her head back down on the sand.

In the silence, the wind again arose and wrapped its warmth around her body, caressing her comfortingly as the two voices spoke in conjunction with one another before splitting away again.

“But you've been given a gift today, something you've desired,” they intoned together, “and not even wanted...”

“But the air still is damp with the smell of plague,” the brotherly voice of the wind said gravely.

Again they fell to silence as she thought over the many events surrounding the plagues, of the many people she had healed only to have to heal them again the next day. She thought of the many deaths in the lands and the indistinct scream she heard from Norrath during that time. She thought of how hard it was to deal with all of those things without Phenix there to reassure her, and again realized he had been gone much longer than ever before.

“You will have help, Darkfae,” the motherly voice within the water finally broke the silence with a wave upon the shore.

Almost pessimistically, the woman replied, “Will I? Phenix is gone heaven only knows where and no one else seems to wish to help me.”

Less than a heartbeat later, even though she knew he was not dead, she added fearfully, “I don't even know if he's still alive...”

“This... attitude,” the ocean mother crashed, clearly not amused, “is unbecoming!”

“Put your ear to my side, child,” the ancient earth rumbled, distracting her from the waters rage once again. Obediently, the woman lowered her ear to the ground, pressing it gently to the sand.

After the waters receded again, she could hear the sound of barking, though it was almost inaudible. From what she could tell, it was the sound of gnolls very deep within the earth or very far away from where she was.

The sand rumbled, slowly, creating waves that led to the mountainside as it grumbled, “Place your ear against the rock, Child.”

With an arched an eyebrow and a small nod, the woman rose and walked to the stone. She leaned against the mountain, placing her ear to it carefully; this time she heard the clamoring of tools, as if the rock underneath were being mined that very moment. The growls of the gnolls were much more audible, and she could make out few words, though not many as it was in a different dialect than what the gnolls near Qeynos used.

“What?” she frowned, clearly puzzled by what she was hearing. “I've never heard that before...”

“That is because that hasn't been heard in over 4 centuries, child. It is a sound far older than any mortal today,” the old dragonesque earth rumbled, “yet still young enough to be the children of Brell.”

“What are they doing? It sounds almost like mining,” she murmured, ear still pressed against the stones.

“It is the Splitpaw, Child, and they are making their way to the surface of me,” the earth groaned.

“Splitpaw?” she asked quietly, “Another family of Gnolls?”

Without answering her quiet question, the ocean mother banked with, “It is there, you will find the son of he...”

The woman turned around to stare at the ocean with a bewildered look. She had, some time ago, felt that Phenix was in danger, somewhere far from where she had been, however it had only been a feeling; the confirmation that she was correct broke through the calm confusion she had felt, fear and worry rising quickly within her.

“They captured Phenix...?” she finally stammered.

With a calm and gentle rumble, the earth replied, “They did, but he is no prisoner.”

“How can one not be a prisoner if one was captured?” she asked, confused by the statement. “Will they let him go? If not, then he is very much a prisoner.”

“In time...” the earth rumbled, its words trailing off into silence.

“I don't like this,” she muttered, recalling the ways of the gnolls just outside of Qeynos. They were savage, and violent, always attacking anyone who ventured too far off the road and sometimes those who remained on it. Her imagination conjured up images of Phenix being beaten and mutilated by the gnolls, despite what the earth had said.

“He is a guest, but his trust is in question,” the earth revealed. “He smells of a something feared”

She thought for a moment, wondering what he could possibly smell of that would remind the gnolls of something that could terrify them. Faintly, the back of her mind tickled with a sensation that had so become a part of her that she rarely noticed it anymore; it was the sensation Brodis had shared with her, the connection he and Phenix shared and the emotions that wrapped about it.

“Brodis...they're so much alike,” she babbled, “that has to be who they fear.”

“It was he, the Primal One, they smell. It is a scent they fear, yet it is an honor to have him among them. He will be safe,” the earth explained before ominously adding, “For now...”

“For now,” she echoed. “I like THAT idea even less...”

The wind wrapped itself around her then, and she was reminded of a brother holding onto his younger sister, as if he was letting her know he will never let anything come to harm her. It was comforting to feel that sensation, as it was so different from how it felt when Phenix held her, and yet so much the same.

“The idea is not for you to like, Child. It is the will of him, and he alone,” lectured the ocean mother, “HE searches for a past life, as you. The dogs can help him find his past.”

“Oh, I see,” she muttered numbly, disappointed that for all her trials and sacrifices, it was not her place to make him remember. “Then I...shouldn't interfere...”

The flame felt her disappointment, and brought forth something she had not thought of to distract her from it, “And when he comes home, Avaria? When he finds out what you are? Don't you think it prudent to be ready for that day?”

“Brodis told you...”

She blinked at the flames, realizing what the spirit there was suggesting, no, reminding her of. When she had summoned Brodis, one of his parting pieces of advice was to not allow his son to know what she was if she wanted to keep him; as the manifestations increased and number and in intensity, she had worried over those words so many times she had lost count.

“I...I can't let him know,” she frowned, clearly upset. “I won't let him know...”

“Won't you? You think you can stop this now? The voices you hear, the minds of all that nature is?” the ocean mother hissed, “Can you just put this in the back of your head when he arrives?”

“I...don't know, but I will find some way to hide it from him,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, to the east and Freeport. “He can't know...Brodis said that.”

With a rumble of displeasure, the earth said, “Yes, but he says a lot.”

“Is he your god?” the fatherly voice of the wind asked.

“There are no gods,” she replied quickly. “But he does know Phenix so well.”

“Yes, and he wants him to live,” the brotherly voice of the wind replied. “That's all...”

Again the father within the wind spoke, saying, “He wants him to be happy. But is that really his decision – who Phenix will be happy with?”

The woman frowned, and with a sigh, leaned back against the stone and sunk to the ground to sit. She looked out over the ocean, again forced to confront her feelings for the half elf she’d come to spend most of her days with. While she herself had been happy, she had not realized Phenix was as well until Brodis had told her; it was still something she could barely accept – that someone like Phenix was happy with someone like herself.

“Well, no, I suppose not, but he made it sound like Phenix would cast me from his presence if he knows what I am...whatever” she said, motioning to herself and the area, “that is, I mean.”

She felt the wind blow across her face; the way a father would set his hand against his daughter’s cheeks to wipe away a tear. She hadn’t even realized she had begun to cry, but knew that it was caused by the emptiness she felt without her Ayr`dal companion.

“Brodis knows what will happen. That's all,” the father within the wind whispered, “Live your life, do what you think is right, child. Just because he knows, doesn't mean he likes it.”

“I shall...as soon as I decide what is right,” she sighed.

“That's all you can do, Avaria,” the flame flickered, brightening with reassurance. “Worry not about this, there's time enough, we can feel it.”

“Very well,” she said, nodding as she glanced back at the mountain, her brow furrowing slightly.


”We will be with you when you get home, Darkfae!” the children of the ocean cried out, finally overpowering their mother. “We will help in any way we can!”

With a smile to the waters, she said, “Thank you.”

The enthusiasm of the children showed for her return to them caused the earth to rumble sagely, “It's time for you to go, Child.”

“Yes...I've some business to take care of before returning to Qeynos,” she said, thinking of the man who was her mentor, “Thank you...I promise I'll come back.”

Hesitantly, the earth rumbled, “One more thing, Child...”

“Yes?” she asked, looking down at the sand.

The rumbling and shifting of the earth became uneasy as it spoke, causing her to have to shift her weight many time to avoid falling; the brother within the wind sensed this and helped lift her upward as the dragonesque voice explained.

“It was fate that brought Phenix to the gnolls, but it wasn’t destiny,” it groaned. “The Teir`dal you know as Blyght, such a foul name...the son has much to be thankful for, but that encounter was not a good one, and You are lucky that the last breath was not in the son's mind.”

The woman tilted her head as she listened, her hands balling into fists. The green flames come to life, flashing brighter about her left hand while the earth speaks, and the wind about her stirs into life once more, hair nearly falling from its clasp as it cyclones slowly about her.

“Really,” she growled, the elements swirling about her with more vigor. “I see. I'll have to remember that.”

“He is a fool. He is not sane,” the earth groaned.

“I was beginning to get that impression, yes,” she muttered. For the past few months, her contact within Freeport had become more and more sketchy, causing her to lesson the amount of work she sent his way, and drastically bringing the amount of information she shared with him to a minimum.

“He will be destroyed for his actions,” the ocean voices hissed, and it was clear they meant for far more than just what he had done to Phenix.

“Yes...he will be,” she growled, glancing once again over her shoulder towards Freeport.

She now had two reasons to venture deeper into Lucan’s territory, and the second became an outlet for all the helplessness she had felt from not being near Phenix; all of the protective instincts of a lioness roared into life within her, and the passionate emotions of revenge began to spark.

“Again, thank you. I promise I'll come home as soon as I can,” she said as reverently as she could with a growing anger inside of her. She turned, walking away towards the cave further down the beach so that she could collect her belongings and begin her new work.

“There's no rush, Avi,” the brother within the wind mused, “we're always with you...”

She paused slightly when the wind used the name Phenix used for her, but only nodded before continuing away – the strange similarities between the brother within the wind and her Ayr`dal companion were something she could ponder on later.

For now, there was blood to spill for the crimes that were committed.



There was no light within the familiar stone house, no sound but the lapping of the ocean miles below the cliff it stood on. It seemed as if no one had been there for some time, which led her to only wonder.

Raising her hand up, the green flames leaping to life, she opened the door and walked into the small stone hovel. To her surprise, it was entirely empty, save for the stone table that had always sat in the center of the building. She walked about the room, noticing how dusty the entire area was, noticing the cobwebs in the corners and the amount of sand sweeping across the floor as she moved.

“What on Norrath,” she murmured.

As if to answer, the wind drifted through the window, idly blowing about the room before saying, “You don’t remember what happened here last, Darkfae?”

Shaking her head, she walked over to the table and sat her pack down, her eyes pausing on the almost faded rainbows that shifted in its center. In the back of her mind, she knew something had happened here, she had done something to cause this building to be empty, but she could not remember what.

“Wait a minute,” she muttered, noticing the earth beneath her sigh in disappointment. “Yes, I believe I know exactly why I can’t remember a damn thing about what happened here…”

Opening the pack, she removed a bundle of cloth and sat it down beside her pack. As she unwrapped the cloth, she could vaguely hear the sounds of someone whistling in such a way that she immediately though they were trying to hide something. Growling, she pulled the cloth away from the strange stone, lifting it up and holding it as tight as she could.

“Oh, hello, Mistress,” the stone replied, trying to sound innocent. “What causes you to grace me with your attention?”

Its voice was always vague and distant, as if the speaker was standing at the far end of a large cave. Its tone was younger, edged with a sort of controlled insanity, always tinged with a playful air; it was completely unaware of the viciousness of its nature, as if the things it did were acceptable and good.

Without saying a word, she held the stone over the faded rainbow, watching the colours strengthen and renew once they touched its smooth surface. The stone itself shuddered with delight, taking the energies into itself greedily. She was still trying to discover the symbiotic relationship between the strange rainbows and the stone; unlike the smaller scrying stones one could buy in the Thundering Steppes, this stone did not translate the energy back into a physical form, but drained the energy away into itself.

“Care to tell me what happened here, Petra?” she hissed.

The energies in the stone swirled hesitantly, almost as if trying to find a way to evade her questions. When the stone neglected to answer her, she began summoning ice around it, the frosted crystals forming just beneath her hand. The stone whimpered, shuddering violently as if it were trying to break away from her hand.

“Stop, please. Stop! It hurts me! You don’t have to hurt me!” it screamed. “I can tell you what happened here if you just stop!”

She ceased creating the ice, but did not try to warm the stone beyond what her hand naturally did. Patiently, she waited for the sentience within it to stop whimpering and speak.

“Indecisive woman, first you tell me to hide this, and then you tell me to show you,” it complained, “No harming the messenger if you don’t like what you see…”

After a moment, the room began to change. Slowly, the contents she remembered being within its stone walls faded into view, along with the strange and ancient man who lived here and what appeared to be herself.

He was stooped over a counter, his long white hair loosely bound and drifting down the back of his black, maroon and silver robes. The version of herself that was there wore an identical robe, though she seemed far less composed than she normally was, her hair falling about her shoulders, barely held by its clip. Watching herself, Avaria realized that this had to have happened the day after she had summoned Brodis – she could almost remember hastily pulling her hair back up into its clip as she rushed through Qeynos.

Her present form was all but a ghost in the scene. She carefully withdrew her hand from the Petra Mnemoi, watching it float over the rainbow, just above a second stone. Stepping away from the table, her back finally finding a wall, Avaria watched the scene that played out before her.

The disheveled Avaria stalked about the room, clearly angry at the old man on the other side of the building. Finally, she spun about, pointing at him accusingly, green flames faintly flickering before growing strong.

“How did you know, Master? How did you know I had summoned Brodis? How did you know what was happened? Your letter spoke of things I have shared with no one, things that no one but myself and Norrath witnessed,” she yelled, the wind about her rustling, “and I know you’ve no connection to Norrath beyond that of mortal men.”

The old man laughed, slowly coughing as he did. He turned to look at her, his eyes widening slightly as she began changing before them; streaks of black, dark blues and dark greens began threading through her hair as it fell loose from its clasp and her eyes had become so light they looked almost platinum in colour and burned with a passion even he could not understand.

“Do not laugh at me, old man! I do not take well to being mocked and take even less to being spied upon,” she growled, her voice becoming airy and distant yet filling the entire room.

“You do my bidding, your pitiful Order holds vested interest for me,” he replied, sneering at her, “I will watch your actions as I see fit – you are, after all, my apprentice.”

Outside, a storm had gathered rapidly over them, and the first bolts of lightning flashed through the skies as a roll of thunder shook the building. The wind about Avaria strengthened, pulling open her robes to reveal the emerald green leathers that sung with Norrath’s power. The tangles of her hair twisted and fluttered within the winds, blowing about her almost as if she were within the waters below the cliffs. The powerful illusionist could almost see the energies gathering at her back, almost perceive some sort of form from them, but they were too indistinct.

He did know that this was no illusion – she couldn’t control an illusion spell that complex yet.

“How do you do it, old man?” she shouted, “I will destroy everything within this room if you do not answer me.”

The old man glanced at his pet, a Nightflier of some great size that was perched across the room from them. The rodent silently lifted itself into the air and glided out the window, flying once around the building before vanishing. With a smirk, the man turned his attention back to his apprentice and hobbled over to sit in his chair.

“As I said, you are but the apprentice, I am the Master,” he mused. “You do not demand secrets of me, I share them with you when you have learned those lessons that I feel necessary to know.”

“I will not be controlled and manipulated by the likes of you!” she cried, the elements about her swirling again. “I am done playing these pathetic games, I am done searching for what you cannot find yourself, and I am done with you!”

He lifted a fuzzy white brow at her words, startled by the power he felt within her. While he had witnessed everything that had occurred on Naythex beach, he had not realized exactly what Brodis had found within his apprentice – he was a student of the Arcane, and the mysteries of Nature were often beyond him.

“Do you really believe you can kill me, Avaria? Do you really think I will let you?” he laughed darkly, his voice seeming younger. “Do you really think that you can bring yourself to strike someone down for entirely selfish cause?”

The Fury glared at him, her platinum eyes flecked with red while stars shown within her pupils. She watched him closely, expecting him to take action against her, but he merely pointed towards the table within the center of the room. Hesitantly, her eyes looked towards the stone table, staring at the Petra Mnemoi that rested there.

“I will admit, I did not think such power was within you, Avaria, though it is clear to me that you have no control over it and that it controls you,” he chided. “Did you really think that Norrath would give someone like you such a gift?”

As he spoke, an image began to appear within the stone. At first it was vague and indistinct, but as the seconds passed, Avaria could see the Elddar Grove; Phenix was standing on the edge of the lake there, looking down at a small stone shard as she watched him, but she knew she had never witnessed this herself.

The imaged swirled and changed, this time it was of her and Phenix, from the night before. She was sleeping, but he was still awake, one arm holding her close to him as he watched her sleep, a small smile touching his lips.

“As you can see, girl, you gave me every right to watch you when you accepted his twin,” the old man snickered in triumph. “Among other liberties I have taken…”

Something inside of her snapped at knowing the old man could watch such intimate moments she shared with her Ayr`dal companion, knowing that he was trying to manipulate him as well. She knew Phenix would be angry if he knew she had somehow let someone witness their secrets – she was angry at herself for allowing such to happen.

Her anger could be contained no more, and the elements about her violently shifted while the storm outside finally broke.

The wind rioting about her was so strong; it lifted her from the ground as it lashed outward into the room. Rain began to pour through the windows, falling against the books that lined the walls, ruining them before the wind took hold of them and tossed them about the room; the earth beneath them seemed to tremble, though it was unclear if it was from the thunder or from the destructive power ripping through the room.

Avaria watched in horror as her nightmares began to play out before her. She watched herself, sinking down against the wall with a sick feeling beginning to form in the pit of her stomach.

Raising her hands up, she called the elements down upon the stone, bringing forth lightning, ice and the more powerful green fires. The stone screamed as the elemental energies surrounded it, penetrated it to its core before expanding outwards; with a terrible scream, the stone splintered before shattering into shards and dust.

The old man clung to his heavy chair, his body buffed by the strong winds, lacerations forming on his exposed skin. The stone shattered, Avaria turned her attention to the old man, surrounding him with a cyclone of wind and ice. She watched until his body was so battered he became limp, waiting until he no longer drew breath. When the spark of his life finally faded, the winds receded, pulling themselves back about her like a cloak once more.

Her feet touched the ground once more, and she looked about the room. Everywhere she looked there were shards of the broken Petra Mnemoi, shards that were just like the one the illusion Avaria had given Phenix. While she had no idea what the shards might do, she decided it would be best to gather them all and take them with her.

As she moved about the room collecting the shards, the elements about her lessened, becoming the harmless entities they were before her Fury. Her hair, though still moved slightly by the wind, was once again the fiery red with almost gold highlights and her eyes returned to their starless silver colour. The rainstorm was slowing, becoming nothing more than a misting drizzle…

The scene faded away, and as it did, Avaria could recall putting the bag into her desk drawer back in Qeynos. She was sitting on the ground, curled up against herself as if she had been cringing away from what she watched – she felt ill watching herself act like the being from her nightmares.

It confirmed what the elements had been hinting to her, confirmed every suspicion she had about herself – she was the evil being from her nightmares, the chaotic little beast that corrupted nature with demonic virtues.

Reassuringly, the wind caressed her skin and she could feel her brother’s soothing spirit as he held her protectively. Beneath her, the ancient dragonesque earth sighed again in disappointment, clearly displeased by the methods she was learning by.

“Child, you must remember, your kind was not always as your nightmares show them to be,” was all the sands said as the rumbled beneath her.

Oblivious to the others, the stone began to babble, “Tsk, I knew you weren’t going to like it – you were absolutely adamant that unlike the whole mess with that Brodis fellow, this was supposed to not be brought up again. You said I could share with you the beach excursion and make sure you had a vague memory that I held something you wanted to remember but you said not to make you aware of this little event at all. I should have expected this though – you went back on the ideal of not remembering the incident with Brodis, I should have realized you’d want to know this again as well.”

Avaria stared at the orb, almost annoyed with its chatter. Unfortunately, the event had uncovered even more questions than she had ever thought existed, and the brash little thing was the only way she would get the answers to them.

“That’s neither here nor there anymore, Petra. Right now, I need you to tell me what the hell that shard was that he gave Phenix,” she said, slowly standing. The wind continued to wrap around her protectively, knowing that she was badly shaken despite her demeanor.

“Oh, that. Well, I noticed that my twin had been slightly smaller than he should be. I assume that the Lore Spinner made him surrender a bit of himself in the form of a shard at some point,” the stone explained.

“I see, and what could such a shard be used for?” she asked, gently resting her hands on the table and leaning forward.

“Pfft. It’s probably a weaker version of what we do – or I do, I should say. While I doubt it needs memories, I am sure it can hold them, and probably let the Master scry upon the possessor with greater ease,” it replied.

She sighed, realizing that it must have been why the old man had been able to spy upon them even when they were no where near the stone she had been given. Unfortunately, Phenix would recall it had been her that gave him the stone, so finding out exactly what it did would be nearly impossible.

When she got back to Qeynos, she would have to experiment with the other shards, find out exactly what they were capable and hope the one Phenix had wasn’t any different from them. With the other stone destroyed, she hoped that they were as harmless as her stone claimed they were – if they were, they might actually prove useful.

“You still must deal with Blyght, Avaria,” the brother within the wind whispered.

“Yes, and I will tell you that your rage did not kill off the illusionist,” the earth groaned.

“Wonderful, so the old man survived the beating he took. I suppose I shall have to be comforted by the fact that he no longer possesses a stone,” she muttered, reaching out for her own stone.

“Must I go back in that damn bag? It so dark and lonely in there – at least at home I had the bat to talk to,” it whined as she began wrapping the cloth around it.

“Quit complaining,” she growled, still unsettled. “We’re about to go somewhere you’ll get to drain memories away from someone, so just stuff it for now.”

Without waiting for a response, she stuffed the bundle back own into the bag, and shouldered it once more. The earth was right, the entire place had been cleaned out and she doubted that it was done by looters – they would have probably left the body, if there had been one at all.

The old man was crippled, for now, so Avaria turned her attention to other matters she had to deal with; murmuring a spell, she transformed into a dark elf and pulled the hood of her brown robes up over her hair as she set out for Freeport.



The streets of South Freeport were empty, the only sound the constant thrum of the power matrix that held the Overlord’s palace above the city. A lone figure moved away from the entrance to the Thieves’ Way, wrapped in a thick woven robe with the hood drawn low over its face. The wind gently swirled around the figure, pushing the hood forward even more as the figure made its way towards the docks.

The streets grew crowded the closer to the docks the figure got, and soon it was blending into the crowd, becoming lost among the other citizens of Freeport.

But there was something slightly different about the figure, something subtle, that could only be seen by those looking for it. Perhaps it was the stature of the being, or perhaps it was how it moved, or maybe it was just the ill fitting of the robe – something almost imperceptible.

Another figure moved through the crowd, a handsome Teir`dal clad in dark robes. His manner was pretentious, a slight sneer touching his lips as he moved through the crowd, his assured superiority clearly stated with his expressions. The only discrepancy was his need to look about him constantly, as if he were watching or waiting for something to happen or for someone to appear.

Blyght Viggtu was a mage of some measure of power, remaining true to his name by harnessing disease and poison through magical means. He was confident of his abilities, strengthened in his belief that his power was great by the defeat of the assassin that had been sent for him – Phenix had not been an easy man to defeat, as his skills with the blade were far beyond what Blyght had ever expected.

With his sneer deepening to a smug smirk, the dark elf remembered fondly the confrontation with the Ayr`dal assassin. He had been expecting the Order to eliminate him for weeks, as contact with the Mnemosynes had been all but cut off. He wondered what they had heard and not bothered to share with him before deciding he had outlived his use, but he had not received the answers he wanted from the half elf; instead the assassin claimed to know nothing of what Blyght spoke of, including the fact that he was there to kill the Teir`dal.

He moved through the gates into East Freeport, walking along the docks as he made his way towards the next set of massive doors. Since the defeat of Phenix, Blyght had been trying to regain his position within the halls of the Arcane Scientists, and today he would again lower himself to provide the Sages with service. Pulling away from the crowd, he made his way upward through a little used short cut.

Blyght had not made it very far before he realized that he was being followed – a figure draped in a thick woven robe trailed him, its hood pulled too low for his comfort. He began to make a series of pointless turns, watching the figure to see if it followed him; eventually he found himself cornered just outside the rounded hall that lead down into a seedy alchemy shop.

The figure continued to walk forward, and the Teir`dal pressed himself against the wall. He knew the area was ill patrolled, as the alchemists paid the Militia hefty sums to keep them away. It would come to violence, he was sure of it – either the assassin had been sent by the Order or perhaps it was sent by the family within Freeport he had crossed during his escapade with Phenix.

“Perhaps it is neither, Blyght Viggtu,” the figure said, her voice frighteningly familiar.

“Who are you? And what do you want with me?” he asked hastily.

She laughed lightly, letting the wind push her hood back slightly to reveal a strikingly beautiful Teir`dal’s face. Her pale silver eyes unsettled him, the look behind them seductive on the surface, but haunted with something else he could not understand. She smiled, her lips pouty, as she took another step closer to the other Teir`dal.

It was then he felt it, the subtle wind that surrounded the woman, the cold drop in temperature as she approached and closed the distance between them. As he looked at her, he could almost imagine her skin pale like a…

“Mnemosyne Calcirya,” he breathed.

The woman stopped her advance, and Blyght realized he could see a few strands of red hair fluttering out from beneath the hood of her robe. Studying her face, he realized that her facial features were familiar, and that her pause revealed who she truly was; he had caught her before she could eliminate him, though he questioned whether or not he would withstand a battle between them.

Glaring, the woman leveled an accusing finger at him, green fire coming to life around her hand as the wind knocked him flat against the wall. Her anger was evident as her eyes became speckled with red flecks, and the Teir`dal realized that she knew he had defeated Phenix.

“What you have done cannot be forgiven, Blyght,” she hissed, her voice echoing ethereally, “and for it your life shall end in an untimely fashion, but remember this – it will end.”

Behind her, Blyght could make out two Militiamen, walking past the alleyway that lead back to where they were. Unsure of whether or not they would be able to hear him, the dark elf began shouting at the top of his lungs.

“There is a Qeynosian here, a high elf,” Blyght yelled, “She is a high elf and claims to be a direct servant of Antonia Bayle!”

Growling, the woman stepped back and began to cast some sort of spell that seemed to be a travel spell. The air about her spun wildly, encasing her in a cyclone of power as she continued to make her escape; her hood fell away to reveal bright red hair that was entirely unnatural for a dark elf. Rushing forward, the two guards drew their weapons and prepared to attack her only to find themselves pushed back by the raging winds.

Blyght smirked at the woman as she finished her spell, her body becoming incorporeal before vanishing. Again he had been faced with someone of the Order, one of their most powerful members, and he had prevailed. While it had not been a confrontation of combat, he had found a weakness within his opponent and exploited it, assuring he would live another day.

Thanking the guards for their assistance, Blyght began to make his way back to the Arcane Scientists when he had a disturbing thought.

He could not remember what the woman’s name was, at all, nor exactly who she was within the Order. As he thought, his brow furrowed as he realized he could not remember exactly who the Order were, or why he felt threatened by their presence; he only knew that whoever they were, they wished him dead and promised that such would come to pass.

Terrified, Blyght fled deeper into Freeport.