Shattered Stones of the Order

Story: Maj'Dulean Tears

2009-04-06T17:26:00.000-07:00

OOC: This series of stories is actually ripped from the quest series that leads up to receiving the title "Hero of Maj'Dul". A number of things within the text are being changed to make it unique from the now generic events, and to sort of preserve the storylines of previous RPers who worked through this quest and bear the same title in character (such as my guild leader).

Much of what transpires within this story arch will be translated into rumors, but if people want to tastefully select more public incidents to have knowledge of, they are quite welcome to it. For example, while they might not know the details of the debate against Suhail, they could know that she beat his ass with a verbal stick.

Not a lot of people work on this quest series anymore, and fewer still of those who do role play. I thought the general population would enjoy seeing the content of the quests, despite the changes made. =)

~Aria's player

The Court of Truth Debate Hall was through a door on the left after entering the foyer of the Court, however only a handful of members could ever enter into the hall itself. It was here that a council of individuals that Caliph Ishara had assigned to make the more menial decisions of the Court and gather information regarding the more important issues met to hear the Court's current troubles via debates and reports.

The high elven woman was dressed smartly in the black and red leathers of a Consul, her fiery red hair pulled back into a more traditional coif at the crown of her head, though a few curling tendrils framed her face. Her lightly tanned skin had been dusted with golden mehendi powder, deeping its colour and giving it a light sheen that caught the light; intricate mehendi designs covered her hands and arms in henna tones with a few small bindi set on the backs of her hands while a smaller design and bindi adorned her brow.

Earlier in the day, a courier arrived at Aria's lavish home in the Gilded Twilight Terrace with a summons to the Court. There was a final practice debate before the judges would take their opinions to Caliph Ishara for approval, however one of the Consuls had suddenly left Maj'dul without any explination, leaving the Court without a second voice in the Debate Hall. The Caliph was all too aware of Aria's gift for politics, having argued many times with the woman since her ascendance in the Court, and had selected her to debate against the great Consul Suhail.

As she entered the hall, the buzz of conversation faded away into silence. The elf straightened her tunic before slowly walking towards the Notary, her movements fluid and confident, her silver eyes filled with a fire they had not held in some time. Within a few steps, the whispers began again, the underlings of the hall gossiping and making small bets over the outcome of the debate.

Notary Maajid nodded and began to ramble in a rather nasal voice,"Welcome, welcome, Preceptor Aria. I am Notary Maajid. I am here to answer any questions you may have about the upcoming proceedings. Feel free to ask me anything and I will do my best to answer you."

"What exactly happens here?" Aria asked quietly, "There are a number of rumors about this place, and I'd like to know the reality of it."

"The Court of Truth uses this place as a forum to conduct debates and trials. All major decisions are hashed out here," Maajid replied, his voice thick with an accent. "Generally, when a topic that requires major action comes up it is sent to the debate court. All of the invested parties are given a forum to argue out the pros and cons and the judges weigh each argument and decide what will best serve the court."

"Interesting," she responded, "I am not yet invested in any decisions on the court's future. What will my function be here?"

"Your goal today is just to prove that you can carry a debate and formulate a strong argument that appeals to our judges," Maajid explained. "It is a skill that all members of the Court of Truth possess, however we typically schedule such far in advance. You, however, have the good fortune to have been summoned early."

"What will the topic of debate be then?" Aria pressed, a number of well known issues among the Court coming to her mind almost immediately.

"The topic will be decided by Consul Suhail. There is a major argument being used for this practice debate, a matter that is quite pressing in the eyes of the Court," Maajid rambled. "You or Suhail will argue for or against an alliance with one of the other courts. Suhail chooses who will argue for and who against in the matter, and provide a brief explination."

The high elf tilted her head in thought, the small jewel on her forehead catching the light. Her eyes drifted to the tall Dervish man in the center of the room, taking in his features and his mannerisms before asking, "Why does Consul Suhail get to chose?"

Maajid made a small tsking sound, quickly showering praises, "Suhail is the greatest arbiter to ever be part of the Court of Truth, he has earned the right to chose the topics and positions in the debates."

"What are the consequences of failure?" she asked, eyes drifting to the judges who she already knew had ties to Ishara.

With an entirely serious face, Maajid intoned, "The judges will smite you down in a fit of righteous wrath, of course!"

The Fury gave him an incredulous look, a thin eyebrow raising in question.

"No, no, I am only kidding, of course," Maajid said, waving his hand slightly, "All judges attempt to be as impassive and objective as possible, but that can never be guaranteed. Only your arguments will be judged here, not you as a person or your loyalty to our court. You have earned the right to be here through patience and probably some rather tedious work. Being part of the debate court is a privilege given to those we trust, not a test or punishment. Plus this is only practice, my friend."

"what kind of arguments do these judges like?" Aria asked, turning her head to take in the men and women behind the table.

"The best way to judge the moods and preferences of each judge is really trial and error. For example," Maajid explained, "some days Magister Aymelek is the most affable and empathic person you have ever met, other days she is shrewd and aggressive and will only respond to combative arguments. Your best bet is to try the argument you feel best suits the situation and pay close attention to the comments of the judges."

Turning back to the Notary, the elf murmured, "Are the judge's preferences really that fleeting?"

"Well, in my experience, most brilliant people tend to be mercurial in that way... temperaments, preferences and moods always changing," the Notary said with a shrug. "Luckily, they are not so fickle that their moods will change mid-debate. It seems to be more of a day to day thing."

"And how many votes do I need to win then?" she inquired.

"You must win over the majority," Maajid replied, straightnening his black and green robes, "so three votes from any of the five judges."

She turned slightly again, letting her eyes drift over the hall before settling on her opponant. He was calmly shuffling through a few notes, pointedly ignoring his challenger as if to imply that he felt she posed no threat. While women were given a certain veneration within the city, it was still a very specific and narrow minded respect - the city was in the end still ruled by men, and women rarely left their exhalted state to argue with their decisions.

"Tell me about Consul Suhail," Aria finally whispered.

Maajid broke into a worshipping smile as he quickly whispered,"Consul Suhail was raised in our court. His father was once one of our greatest, most-honored judges. Suhail's talent is innate, even as a child he was quite convincing. He is not pompous or arrogant, like one would expect. He lives for the debate. It is his life and his greatest talent. He will not be easy to out argue, few have ever been able to win the judges from him."

Still curious about her opponant, she asked, "What makes him so good?"

"He has the rare talent to disengage his personal feelings from a debate and argue facts, but lace them with emotions that turn the judges," Maajid replied matter-of-factly. "He appears passionate, even if he couldn't care less about the subject he is arguing. It is quite amazing to watch."

Aria watched Suhail for a few more minutes before again straightening her tunic and making her way over to the dark man and the five judges. A silence decended upon the hall, and for the first time since her arrival, Suhail looked up from his notes to take in his new opponant. For several long moments, the Dervin and the barrisharr stared at each other, both calm and passive as they studied their pray.

"Consul Suhail," Aria said, nodding slightly to the dark man.

"Yes, I am," Suhail replied. "Let us get started then. Our topic is an alliance between our court and the Court of the Coin. They have been petitioning an alliance for some time now, and again we have reached their proposal; this time we intend to settle the matter once and for all. I will take the negative position and you will take the positive position. Do you have questions before we begin?"

Shaking her head, the high elf replied,"No, I am ready."

The two turned to the judges and bowed formally, a striking contrast to each other visually. Suhail was much taller than she, with skin so deeply tanned it was nearly blackened, his hair like the skies at midnight when the moon is hidden from the skies with dark brown eyes that seemed to hold the mysteries of the ages in them; she was short and thin, her tanned and dusted skin appearing all too pale beside her opponant, her fiery red hair made brighter by his dark presence.

"Esteemed judges of the Court of Truth, I bring before you today the proposal of an alliance between our court and the Court of Coin. I will start by saying this proposal is preposterous," Suhail began, turning slightly so that he faced the judges and Aria. "Our great court has spent years avoiding the assassins and spies sent by the Court of Coin to undermine us. We have taken great care to be completely independent of the political and economical machinations of this group of petty thugs. Now is not the time to bow down to them."

"Respected judges of the Court of Truth, we have struggled and fought endlessly to attain the level of autonomy that we possess. The Court of Coin's proposal for alliance proves we have been successful," Aria replied, her voice taking on a strange tone, one of strength and femininity, "Allying with the Court of Coin would not undermine our independence in any way. In fact, we could use this alliance to our advantage and soak up everything we can take from the Court of Coin."

Immediately, four of the judges nodded at her argument, one of them openly smiling to the new arrival. Their favour did nothing to intimidate a veteran of the debate such as Suhail, and the man merely continued his argument, mehendi'd hands gesturing calmly as he spoke.

"The Court of Coin is not comprised entirely of camel brains. My colleague here is blind to believe they would just let us traipse in and take everything they have worked for. History proves that alliances between the courts will never work," Suhail calmly explained. "Look back at the debacle between the Coin and the Blades when they attempted a trade alliance. The streets of Maj'Dul ran red with blood after that one. We cannot accept this alliance just based on the potential for massive losses. It makes no sense."

With a faint smirk, Aria rebuttled, "The Court of Coin is still suffering from that failed alliance with the Blades. This alliance would be mutually beneficial. They need us and we most certainly can use them to attain our end goals. There is no harm in helping others, by helping ourselves."

Two of the judges shook their heads, frowning at the statement while the other three nodded to her. The judges were clearly torn on their views of the Court of Coin, making the arguments all the more important to the future of the Court of Truth. Aria was not the only one to notice the judges wavering feelings, and Suhail again began to try and pursuade them against the alliance.

"If anyone here thinks the Court of Coin is not dangerous then they are a fool. Yes, we are smarter and more powerful, but they have their strengths too. We cannot underestimate the level of subversion they are willing to stoop to. How can we," he said, motioning to the assemblage, "in good conscience, put ourselves in danger by allying with known enemies? They have made it apparent that they wish to be responsible for our demise."

Without even giving Suhail a chance to finish his thought, Aria lifted a hand as if to scold the other Consul as she replied, "Then we should be smart about it. The Court of Truth has the best information and spy network in all of Maj'Dul. Allying with the Court of Coin expands that even further. Imagine the volumes of information we can attain from them. I do not dispute that they are our enemies, which is even more reason to try to get as close as possible."

Arbiter Kashif, Magister Aymelek, Overseer Numair and Chancellor Jalilah all looked to one another with smug grins and nodded, quite proud of the vast network of contacts the Court held. Marshal Raaghib glared at Aria, clearly unconvinced that the Court of Coin provided any sort of information that they did not already have. Finding that the tide had turned, Suhail decided that he must play off the Marshal's position and let Raaghib convince the others through example.

"The search for more information is of course noble, but at what cost?" he implored, "Is the fall of the Court of Truth worth learning the secrets of the Court of Coin? I say not. Given time we will learn all of their secrets on our own. That is our way."

"Our way is not to sit on our hands when presented with such an easily exploitable situation. The Court of Truth believes in action," Aria replied with conviction, "not waiting around for gold to rain down from the sky. If we take no action now, it limits our options in the future."

All of the judges save the Marshal nodded, three of them openly smiling to Aria while the fourth watched her with intense eyes. Suhail was loosing his once captive audience, which only seemed to redouble the man's efforts to win their hearts and votes.

"Patience is a powerful weapon. Jumping into an alliance without all of the proper information could be disastrous," he intoned. "We must gather as much information as possible on the motives and attitudes in the Court of Coin surrounding this alliance. We must know their real motives."

"Patience is just another word for fear. It is time we seize opportunities as they are handed to us. It is downright irresponsible," the elven woman replied, eyes sliding to look at her opponant, "even traitorous to wait on accepting this alliance. We cannot allow this chance at domination to just slide past us. We cannot sit around bogged down in debate and theorizing. It is time to take action."

Surprisingly, Marshal Raaghib nodded along with the other judges, though his eyes still harshly glared at the Koada'dal - it seemed he begrudginly accepted her arguments, but was not pleased with whom was delivering them. Her opponant found himself in a position he had not been in for years, his words for once not pursuading the judges to his side of the argument but somehow only working against him as she countered each point.

"In conclusion, I am begging of you... do not accept this alliance. It is a setup, it is a sham," he explained emphatically, "and it is designed to bring the Court of Truth to its knees. Accepting this alliance is walking blindly into a trap. We cannot take the chance, the danger outweighs the gain."

"The Court of Truth is strong enough to take grasp of this opportunity and use it to our full advantage," Aria closed her argument, standing calmly facing only the judges as she spoke. "We should accept it and drain every last resource from the Court of Coin. The Court of Truth is superior and it is time we use that."

Arbiter Kashif nodded, "You have the right of it, Preceptor."

"You are well informed, Aria," Magister Aymelek exclaimed.

With a small clap of approval Overseer Numair said, "Consul Aria, I am convinced."

Chancellor Jalilah murmured, "It is good to see you pay attention to more than your work, Preceptor."

Marshal Raaghib remained silent, only nodding slightly to the woman. Suhail glared slightly as his opponant was called Consul, though the emotional expression was fleeting and momentary before returning to the stoic stance the Consul typically used. Despite the insult, he was delighted to have finally been given an actual challenge for the debates, and decided to make sure his former partner didn't return to the city.

"Please give us a moment to deliberate," Arbiter Kashif said as the judges stepped away from the table.

After several minutes of discussion, Raaghib looked almost defeated as the other four judges seemed to chide him. Soon the five returned to their positions at the long table, each looking from Suhail to Aria several times before Arbiter Kashif raised both hands to call attention back to himself.

"Good show, you know your facts," the Arbiter exclaimed, "You have won us all over, Preceptor Aria!"

The high elven woman bowed respectfully to the judges, the small bindi jewels catching the lights of the hall, glittering against her gold-dusted skin. Suhail turned and extended his own decorated hand to her, pressing his lips to the back of her own when she took his, bowing to her slightly with a delighted smirk. Aria returned his smile, nodding to him before he escorted her from the Debat Hall, quietly discussing the possibilities of debating at a later date to brush up on a real challenge.

In the shadows of the Court, several pairs of eyes watched the preceedings with great interest, memorizing every word and action to take back to their masters. Once the Debate Hall had emptied, several Grifters made their way from the Court of Truth, slipping through the dirty streets unnoticed as they made their way back to report to Master B'Dynn within the hidden rooms of the Court of Tears.

The streets surrounding the hall of B'Dynn were filled with shadows, no matter what the hour or what the weather; within those shadows moved many beings, each carrying out whatever duty the Court of Tears saw fit for them.

It was here that many came for orders, unless urgency called for a Hand of Tears to find them - few matters were so important that those who directly served B'Dynn ever had to do such, something the Tears were all well aware of.

A lone elven woman moved unseen through the allyways that lead to the Court, her form obscured in a shroud few could pierce unless they were well trained. She had long ago learned how to call down the Shadows of Luclin, literally drawing down the darkness that surrounded the broken moon, however as she grew more in tune with the world around her, the spell became more potent.

It was not, however, powerful enough to keep her hidden from the other Hands.

"Barrisharr, your timeliness is appreciated," another hidden figure hissed in the Dervish tongue. "I've another assignment for you from B'Dynn."

"As do I, barrisharr," another obscured voice whispered, "We bring them to you, as the Dark One is detained."

"Very well," an airy, lightly accented voice replied. She was not Dervin by any means, however she'd learned their language some time ago.

The three moved deeper into the shadows, rounding the tall sandblasted building they considered their headquarters, moving away from even the other Tears before continuing their conversation.

"Your investigation of Ishara is progressing well, however it has been found that another of the Courts has become corrupted," hissed the first hidden Dervin. "Dukaris' people have crossed the line far too many times for the Dark One's comfort, and he wishes to know if it is their individual decisions, or if Dukaris has put them up to such."

Before she could even acknowledge the first being's statement, the second shrouded Dervin began to speak, "The second matter is one far more delicate, and of even greater importance to the Dark One than Dukaris' investigation."

Motioning for the elf to follow, the three Hands made their way even further from the rest of the Tears, their voices so low they could barely hear each other as they spoke.

"What could be so dire?" she asked, ducking under a fallen board.

The second figure hissed, "A thorn in the side of the Dark One, a thorn known as Solufein Alastrarran - his insolence has been tolerated too long, and as the Dark One begins the final actions of his plan to restore order to Maj'Dul, the thorn must be removed."

In the silence after his words, she nodded. She had heard of this Alastrarran, a wild elf whom many of the citizens venerated as a hero after he lead the battle to stop the Orc invasion that the Peacocks had arranged, saving many a Dervin from a grusome death. Though she wondered what slight he had made against B`Dynn, she did not question the orders - the execution of the current operation would finally free the poor from the grip of the wealthy, and put the Courts back into order.

She would not let anyone stand between the liberation of Maj'Dul from the corrupted rich men, not even another elf.

Burnday, the 27th of Greyeven, 3726

2009-04-06T17:22:00.000-07:00

Long, sandstained pale fingers reached out, brushing near the hovering orb before pausing. The high elven woman paused, stopping to unbind her fiery red hair, brushing the sand from it as she smiled slightly; focusing on recalling something she wished to remember, the Fury blushed as her fingertips yet again reached for the orb.

Faint rainbow hues brightened, cascading upward to splash against the orb, sparkling off her fingertips to indicate that the orb was active. One hand withdrew as she sat down at her raised, ornate desk, fingers toying with the loose, curling strands of hair.

"These events occurred on Burnday, the 27th of Greyeven," the woman said, her voice soft. "I was heading into Antonica to pick up a package from a merchant there, when I happened upon a gathering - they were being somewhat hostile to a man I'd met out on the dunes of the Sinking Sands, and I paused to listen..."

A tall, pale, almost angelicly handsome Koada`dal stood before the more muscular and dark wood elf, Corbin Krahe. Beside Corbin was a woman known as Trecle, a small half elf with blond hair and bright eyes, the girl who had some time ago revealed drawings of Phenix to her. Behind them was some sort of Dark Elven knight and an odd Teir`dal named Chath Nar'Thex, along with his spirit companion.

Several different horses grazed off to the side of the camp, two darker horses of some sort and what appared to be a light mare.

She slipped into the shadows as her horse passed behind a nearby tent, wind brushing past them to carry the sound of hoof-beats away from the camp. The small high elf woman was clad in simple Heavy Wool Threaded clothing, its black, red and silver colours much like those fancier scouts wore, a longsword at her hip and a silver runed bow upon her back, she looked more like a ranger than a Fury. Quietly, she listened to the arguments, realising they were discussing Corbin and Trecle's engagement.

It soon became clear that the hauntingly beautiful high elf was Trecle's father, and he was quite furious over his daughter's choice in mates. The high elven woman listened for some time before intervining, of which was initially ill recieved. Finding a distraction in order, she casually mentioned Corbin fending off the advances of some whore-hiding-as-a-knight, relieved that Trecle shifted the attention away from the woman's attempts to help the wood elf.

She continued to listen, watching the entire group closely. The dark elven knight left, nearly trampling Corbin with his horse as he rode away; it took quite a bit not to simply call havoc down from the skies and rain them down upon the knight, the realisation that it would only harm Corbin's chances keeping her from doing so.

After a fairly intense round of father-bullying-future-son-in-law, it seemed fairly decided that Trecle's father would give Corbin a chance to prove himself - a rather tall order, it seemed, given the elf's attitude and demeanors.

The slightly confused but resolute wood elf left them, vanishing as they tend to do. Wanting time to speak with his daughter, the high elven man requested Chath and the high elf girl leave them.

With a flippant comment to Chath about encountering owlbear hunters in odd places, they made their way from the camp, the woman slowing the horse to keep pace with the dark elf beside her. They halted some distance away, their conversation fairly short and to the point - how they knew each other, and the merits and flaws of Trecle's husband-to-be.

They were interrupted by an odd Dark Elven man, who spoke only in Thexian or some other dark language. The two Teir`dal spoke at length, and Trecle joined them.

Just behind Trecle, the high elven man followed, staring intently at something on the Fury's back. She shifted slightly in the saddle as she felt eyes upon her, but kept her gaze focused upon the two Dark Elves and Trecle.

"Oh? Have some vendetta that requires you to kill her yourself?" Chath said to the other Teir`dal.

Both Trecle and the high elven woman turned to stare at the men, and the high elven woman dropped her hand from the silver bow to her sword pommel, in case he was referring to one of them. The dark elf spoke again, though his words were unknown to the woman on horseback, and caused her to tighten her grip slightly.

"Kill who?" she replied warily.

"Tseri Stormracer," Chath replied, his tone of voice wavering somewhere between amusement and something else. "This dark elf is laying claim to her."

Something about the name was familiar, but the woman's train of thought was cut off when Trecle suddenly announced she had to leave, and that she'd need to speak to Chath later. Before much else had been said, Trecle was on her horse, giving her goodbyes before galloping away.

All concentration on the dark elves was lost as Trecle's father's silk-wrapped steel voice drifted into her ears, asking, "Where did you get that bow?"

The woman blinked slightly, turning her head and her horse so that she should look at the other pale elf. For a long moment, she stared at him, trying to formulate some sort of answer - she was leary of him not only due to what was witnessed, but because he was another high elf.

Finally, she replied, "Why do you ask, sir?"

Lavender eyes greeted her silvery stare, and she found the man something of an enigma, unable to truly read his expressions or his intentions.

"Because it looks very interesting. That's all," he said, a hint of something else striking the Fury.

After another moment, her hand drifting from the sword to the bottom tip of the bow, shifting slightly in her saddle, the woman quietly replied, "It is a gift from a fire-bird...one long dead."

With a shrug, she continued to watch the other high elf, trying to read a reaction for some hint of what his interest was. He merely nodded, revealing nothing to her.

"Lot of artifacts like that, floating around. Must be nice," was his response.

She stared at him for a moment, pondering exactly was best to say, before quietly adding, "I wouldn't say nice...it merely is."

The high elven man turned from her slightly, addressing the remaining dark elf, "Who's that, Chath?"

Her attention turned, and she saw that the other man was gone. Her eyes wandered only a moment before returning to look at the other light elf, still hoping for some sort of hint from the man.

"He refused to give a name. But we can't touch Stormracer now. His plans are much too important for us to meddle with," Chath replied, adding, "Lexior. I need to return to Freeport. Will catch up with you later..."

With a smirk, the high elf mocked, "Or Else!"

Chath returned the smirk before again stating, "Anyway. See you soon, Lexior."

"See you later, Lord Chath," this Lexior replied, nodding to the slowly fading dark elf.

She stared at Chath for a moment, blinking at the title Lexior had used - she'd really not thought the other man was much more than a slightly forgetful priest, but apparently she'd been wrong.

"Lord...huh..." she replied, arching a brow as the Dark Elf vanished.

"A title of respect, sure," Lexior said.

"I'm sure...Lords don't hunt owlbears with unions, I suppose," she replied.

His attention full back on the woman, the elf asked, "What may I call you?"

Almost hesitantly, she extended her gloved hand to the man, turned sideways to shake his armoured hand as she quietly replied, "Aria, sir."

The graceful elf took a step forward, standing beside her horse as he bowed slightly and took her hand, turning it over, kissing the backside. Caught off guard, she blinked and then stared at the other elf with a surprised look.

In all her courtly dealings, in her single relationship, she couldn't recall ever having someone actually kiss the back of her hand in such a manner, at the first meeting. It was the sort of thing she'd read about in fairy tales, stories told to little girls to make them dream about handsome princes.

Aria was quite stunned.

"Lady Aria... Lexior Deraven, at your service," Lexior replied, his voice more like silk than steel.

At a loss for what to say, she rather lamely asked, "You look...familiar, sir. Have we met somewhere?"

He held her hand for a moment longer than etiquette called for, releasing it slowly, Aria hesitantly pulling her hand away from him as he replied, "We might have. I travel quite a bit."

She studied him for a long moment, finding that he looked all to much like the knight she'd met in Stormhold ages ago. They could have been twins, perhaps even the same person in another persona - she wasn't quite sure.

"Pardon my foreward questioning, but are you married? I think I met you with your wife, but...I'm not quite sure," she finally stated.

Lexior tilted his head, taken about now himself by her question. She wasn't quite sure if she'd uncovered something or not, until he carefully responded, "My wife is dead some years now. But maybe you did."

She pondered him for a moment, listening intently to his voice, looking carefully over his features. No, this wasn't the man she was thinking of, though it could easily be his brother or son; his voice was too different and the intensity in his eyes spoke of something entirely unknown to her.

"I suppose it was someone else, perhaps a relative," she finally said.

Lexior sniffed at the statement, almost as if he were a bit put-off, as he replied, "Also possible."

Slightly emboldened, Aria pressed, "Do you have a brother, perhaps a son?"

"No one I like to claim, especially," he replied, closing the subject. He added, "I'm good with a face, too. I don't think we've met."

For a moment, the two elves watched each other before Aria finally nodded slightly to Lexior. Despite having been raised in Castleview Hamlet, surrounded by beautiful elves, she found herself unable to look away from him for long.

"It is a pleasure then, Mr. Deraven. I am," she paused, before adding, "well, I am not sorry, but I apologise for earlier - Mr. Krahe is an associate, and I felt that not everything was being seen of him."

"But it is a pleasure," Lexior said, adding, "you'll have to forgive my tone back there... I do not respond well to my daughter's courtships."

The two elves stopped as their apologies ran right over one another, their words mixing together into something that had to be hard to understand to any outsiders listening in. Despite growing up as almost an outcast, Aria realised that many mannerisms of the Koada`dal were quite a part of her...like apologising, clearly.

"I wouldn't understand such, personally - I have no parents," she said with a bitter smile. "But I can imagine such a position."

In what appeared to be an almost sympathetic manor, Lexior replied, "Orphaned like so many. I was fortunate to be raised well by several people. Training can often make up for the lack of parents."

"Indeed," she said, nodding. "I was raised in a Temple mostly, though for the first few years in Castleview itself...by essentially everyone there."

"Understood. A village raises a child," he commented, adding quietly, "I can't say Castleview is an ideal for me, but it was beautiful in ways."

Aria gave him a slight smile, looking down at him from atop the back of her horse. His words echoed her feelings most of her life, having found Castleview and its in habitants to be family she almost wished she didn't have. She felt as if he was just every bit the outcast she was, which made it impossible not to smile.

"Indeed. I don't per se agree with most there, nor was I treated well by my own peers, but there still remains a slight charm to the place," she agreed.

For another long moment, the two elves watched each other, Lexior's lavender eyes never leaving Aria's face. She considered him for a moment, things Chath had mentioned locking into place with things the high elf was saying - she realised he may very well be from Freeport.

"You...don't live there now?" she finally asked.

Chuckling, he replied, "I couldn't stand those people, Lady..."

With a slight smirk, Aria replied, "Honestly, I can't half the time, but I had to."

"Things must be endured, right?" Lexior stated.

"One could say that," she mused, "I honestly wasn't aware of anything else until half a year ago."

Aria decided she felt awkward about looking down at Lexior from horse back, and moved to slide from the saddle. The other high elf offered to help her down, surprising her again, and she nodded; he took one hand in his, the other lightly catching her hip as she slid gracefully to the ground. The horse wandered away and grazed nearby, never too far from its mistress.

"Only half a year?" Lexior asked as she stepped back, slowly releasing her from his grasp.

"I...eventually was brought into their political courts," she said, looking almost annoyed with the idea. "It left a horrid taste in my mouth."

Lexior nodded, stating, "My role as a soldier is well-appreciated by me, however questioned I am by my peers..."

Aria arched her brow, looking at his fine black platemail armour, seeing his mannerisms and suspecting his ideals. She curiously replied, "Soldier then? You seem more a knight than a common soldier, sir."

"This is true," he replied, a slight smirk touching his lips. "But my take on Knighthood leans toward service, rather than leadership - all Knights are serving something, anyway."

"I see," she said, watching him closely. "No, that's not common at all from what I've seen of knights."

The two found themselves watching each other again, and Aria's mind tried to piece together everything Lexior had given her, tried to make some sort of coherent picture of who exactly the other high elf was. She found herself largely still at a loss, distracted by his appearance and by his mannerisms - despite how romantic Kacer could be, she was still unused to that sort of treatment, and Lexior seemed intent on using such.

"So if not Castleview...Qeynos at all?" she asked, trying to discover where exactly he made his home.

"Occasionally," the elf replied, winking at her.

She blinked slightly, several different meanings for the statement - not all of them pure - rushing into her mind and adding to her confusion. The woman began to blush faintly, unsure if he meant as a mercenary working or perhaps something a little more...intimate than that.

"You know Mr. Nar'Thex. Do you frequent Freeport often, then?" she questioned, hoping for a less flustering answer.

"Yes. I do some business there. But generally I am working in the field more often than not," Lexior explained. "Its where I meet the more interesting people."

With that, the pale elf flashed her a quick but charming smile, one that disarmed her caution. She felt her cheeks warm a little more as her blushed slightly deepened, nodding to him.

"I've noticed the more intense...interesting ones wander Norrath rather than remain inside city walls..." she finally replied, letting slip the word she actually thought described him rather than the one he'd used.

"City walls are only interesting to those who fear the unknown, Lady Aria," Lexior stated, causing a slight shiver to run down her spine.

She nodded her agreement, murmuring, "Indeed."

Glancing away from her face for the first time, Lexior's eyes moved over the bow then back to her eyes as he quietly said, "Judging just by the bow you carry, I could tell you were a lady of higher class than that."

Her cheeks turning bright pink with a deep blush, Aria looked down slightly, mind racing to keep up with the other elf. So much of him was distracting and disorienting, she found it difficult to keep all of her thoughts straight. Lexior tilted his head slightly, trying to catch her eye again, finding that her focus was quite set on the grass beneath them.

"Its...definately not a normal thing, no," she finally stated.

Pausing, his silken voice quietly replied, "I hope I'm not offending you..."

Shocked, Aria looked up again, silver eyes meeting his lavender again. She shook her head, and a slight smile brushed over Lexior's lips as she looked at him.

"Oh, no. Of course not!" she exclaimed, at a loss for what to say. "I just - no one's ever made a judgement like that when I'm not in some damnable fancy dress and jewels."

Lexior looked over her with a chuckle, eyes dancing with...something. She was almost afraid that he'd figured out who she really was, or that perhaps he thought her reaction foolish; to her relief, he smiled.

"The jewels were envious, probably," Lexior quietly replied.

Tilting her head in confusion, Aria asked, "Pardon?"

"Nothing, I..." he paused, and she was unsure if it was because he too was at a loss for words, or if he were searching for a different way to explain himself. "I could just picture your discomfort, that's all. It was amusing."

She blushed again, giving him a slight smile.

After a moment of watching each other, Lexior asked, "Would you like to ride in the woods a while?"

Hesitant, still not entirely sure of what to think of Lexior, Aria paused before finally nodding to him. Her hand extended slightly to her side, and within seconds, her karana plainstrider lifted her head and walked over to stand beside them.

"Evening's falling. Twilight is my favorite time of day," he quietly explained.

"It's quite beautiful," she replied, adding quickly, "the twilight, I mean."

Lexior smiled at her and said, "Indeed it is."

Gently resting her hand on the plainstrider's neck, she asked, "Shall we, then?"

Lexior helped Aria up into the saddle, handling the smaller elf quite delicately despite his armoured hands. She watched as he turned back towards the camp, calling for Maelstrom; after a scare few seconds, a fearsome black horse approached him.

The horse was quite large, its muscles thick and strong like a draft horse's, its black mane and tail long and sleek. The beast's eyes danced with something akin to controlled anger, and he pawed idly at the ground. The aura about him was fierce and dark, something Aria was only used to in malicious, wild animals.

"Heaven to Norrath, how do you command that creature?" she breathed, eyes moving from the stallion to Lexior.

"He knows his master well," he replied. "Follow me, my lady."

Aria glanced from Lexior to the horse, her ears twitching slightly. The small jeweled firefly in the tip of her left ear shined, catching the light sharply as she nodded to him.

"I'd be terrified of him..." she whispered.

The handsome elf smiled mysteriously, nodding as he turned his mount to the South East. The two of them road across most of Antonica, into the woods outside of Blackburrow, Aria always to the side and slightly behind Lexior, allowing him to lead their ride.

After a moment of discomfort at finding Jamarn Darkrain - masquerading as Iathur the wandering - in the woods aiding the same dark elf that had spoken to Chath earlier, their time together came to an end.

"I should probably be on my way," Lexior said, watching the odd motley of Jamarn, the dark elf, a Teir`dal wizardess and a Qeynosian guard.

Without pausing to think, Aria asked, "Did you wish accompaniment?"

"I would really like that, Lady Aria... but I may ask to take up your offer another evening," Lexior said with his charming smile. As the others dispersed, he added, "I must begin my mission now that its nightfall. Perhaps I will see you tomorrow sometime."

She nodded to him, blushing faintly again, "Perhaps. It truly was a pleasure, Mr. Deraven."

"It won't be the last," he replied mysteriously.

"I'd hope not," she said quietly, "Good luck..."

Lexior bowed his head to Aria, settling into his saddle once more. She remained unmoving in the woods as she watched him ride off into the darkening night, finding herself quite unable to take her eyes from his form.

"Lexior," she whispered.

She stared out her window, sighing softly. One hand rested across her lap, idly toying with a loose thread on her pants while the other hand rested just above the orb.

There had been so much she'd gotten involved in since returning from solitude - and so much she'd continued with since that time - and yet somehow, for one evening, it had all fallen away.

Her hand slipping away from the orb, the rainbows faded away again. Slowly, removing each bit of heavy wool threaded clothing from her body as she walked, Aria made her way to the large, empty four post bed. Glancing back to the window, she slipped under the covers, thoughts lingering on the mysterious elf with lavender eyes.

Story: Echoes

2009-04-06T17:17:00.000-07:00

Several Months Ago…
The skies had opened up and released the tears she herself could no longer find, bringing an almost violent ending to the assemblage as the two heavy wooden doors swung open as she left them in stunned silence.

“The Court of Mnemosynis is hereby disbanded,” echoed through her ears as she slowly made her way down the long hallways.

Every day, there were many meetings that took place within the walls of Qeynos’ castle, with all the quiet pomp and circumstance its nobility had become known for; while they were the “people’s nobility”, they still lived by a different set of rules. But, not all meetings were held with such gallantry…

For the first time in weeks, the full chiffon and silk skirts were confining, the tight bodice was almost suffocating, the dripping pearl chains too tangled within her hair. Long, thin fingers tugged at this various bit of fabric, and that random piece of jewelry as she made her way from the assembly hall.

Within the castle grounds was a small museum of sorts, one that was typically better guarded than the Queen’s wing of the castle. For the longest time, she’d avoided it like the plague, afraid of what she might find there – it was the collection of the Sais, the heroes of the Age of Turmoil, and she already knew what ghosts might haunt those halls.

But this is where Vemerik had requested she meet him once she was finished, and she had little ability to refuse.

Sighing softly, eyes closing and head tilting downward slightly, one hand reached for the door handle while the other rested against her chest. The wooden door opened silently, and bright magical light flooded into the hallway, obscuring her form as she entered the museum.

Once she was a few steps inside, her eyes slowly opened and she lifted her head to look about the room.

An old, broken sword was cleaned and mounted on a plaque, hanging beside what appeared to be an old suit of armour emblemized with the sigils of Karana’s knights. A dull blue cloak hung over the suit, moving slightly as the breeze that surrounded her brushed over it.

On another stand, she saw an elegant suit of elven armour, pierced through the chest plate and still covered with bits of gore. It was laid out as if set for a funeral, hands upon its stomach, holding a broken lance that also held remnants of gore upon its slick surface.

She turned her head away, her eyes falling upon a withered crook sat next to a cooking pot and large stein, a small bear that had been mounted and stuffed in beside them. She blinked, surprised by how alive the bear seemed despite knowing it was dead, and for a moment, she felt as if she were staring at another Fury’s life.

Turning again, she saw a beautiful gown upon a headless mannequin, its hands reaching down before its body to hold a small jeweled circlet that rested upon the pommel of a great hammer.

“So it is done then,” a voice asked, causing her to turn and look at the final displays.

Her eyes widened, taking in what appeared to be two blades with lightening coursing down them, held by another mannequin clad in dull green chain armour. Another mannequin was clad in almost familiar brown leathers, holding a quiver full of arrows in one hand, the other deceptively empty. She knew its stance all too well, and paled as her eyes turned towards Vemerik.

“Yes,” she whispered before clearing her throat and raising her voice, “yes, it is done.”

The taller half elven man stepped forward, his hands behind his back as if holding onto something, but it was obscured by his uniform clad form. His large brown eyes looked down at her, slightly narrowed but without any malice.

“Why?”

Blinking, she looked up at him, stunned by the question even though it had been asked a hundred times in the assemblage. She slowly shook her head and sighed, sinking down to the floor as she lowered her head, hand still resting on her chest while the other steady her.

“You of all people should know why, Vem,” she said quietly. “The fiasco with Kacer and Arata has drawn too much attention, attention that extends beyond Qeynos and its politics. It is too dangerous for the Order to remain together, and so I’ve sent them to ground…those still alive, anyway…”

Her voice trailed off, eyes closing at the thought of the dead and missing elves and humans, entirely unsure if they were all dead, taken or hiding. Threats had surfaced in the form of unidentifiable letters, though she suspected some were from the Bloodsabers while others had to be from Freeport.

“What has become of Kacer, Avaria?” he asked slowly, looking down into the mass of fiery red curls that were pinned back.

Sighing, she softly replied, “I’m sure you already know, but he’s left. Since the incident, we’ve just been drifting further and further, and finally he took flight from it.”

“As long as that isn’t they why,” the half elf replied, studying her. “You look tired and uncomfortable, Fury.”

Her only response was to nod, sighing as she opened her eyes again and looked up at him. Vemerik was an enigma to her – the loyal leader of the Queen’s network of spies, always putting on a masque of flamboyant bard tricks to hide what he really was doing, knowing anything and everything that happened within and without the walls of Qeynos. He clearly played favourites, and clearly made use of those who had uses, but never did so in a way that would harm them. Sometimes she wondered how many of these hidden meetings he held each day, but knew she didn’t want the answer to that.

“I am tired, Vem. All of this,” she paused, “this pageantry, this game, it’s become more of a burden as time passes. I thought that it would let me do good, but it seems to always become tangled up in the red strings of politics.”

The darker man nodded, carefully kneeling in front of her, still hiding whatever it was behind his back. He gave her a small smile, and reached on hand out to rest on her shoulder as he spoke.

“Not all nobility remain in this mess, Avaria. In fact, one very famous noble rarely if ever saw the walls of a meeting hall here in Qeynos,” he quietly explained. “This Sai had little use of title and pageantry, and so he vanished into the woods to carve out his own life, to protect and serve the people in ways nobility could not…”

She blinked at him, surprised by his revelation. Though familiar with the tales of “wayward nobility”, it had never occurred to her that she could at any time step away entirely from the life that she’d been thrust into so suddenly; a sense of duty that was deep within her soul had bound her to her new position so entirely, it clouded her judgment of life away from it. In her mind, because of the way books we written and nobles talked, turning away from it was unthinkable.

“But, I can’t…” she whispered, looking at the half elven man with shock.

Shaking his head, Vemerik continued, “The Phoenix did more for Qeynos by turning his back on his title than he could have from within. If he’d been caught up in the meetings of nobility like he should have been, Sai Marca would have died at the hands of Sin long before Ver Elendur’s betrayal.”

“But won’t they…” she began, silencing when Vemerik lifted his hand.

“It doesn’t matter what they think of it, many of the ancient nobility thought Stormryder a heretic, but in the end, the truth was seen and the Phoenix was recognized for the good he did,” the half elf finished, watching her closely.

Pale before, at the mention of that name, she went even paler – she didn’t know how Vemerik had learned of anything, and was even more shocked that he had revealed his hand to her. No book, no historian, none of them ever gave the Phoenix a name, but Vemerik just had and the name made sense.

Slowly, he pulled a silver recurve bow out from behind his back. The string was missing, but despite its age, she could make out intricate runes of power on its smooth surface. With his free hand, Vemerik took each of her own hands and placed the bow in them, letting go of it only once he was sure she had a tight grip.

“That was supposedly the Phoenix’ bow, a bow that could call down the storms of nightmares,” he said slowly, standing, “I know you don’t know how to use it, and it doesn’t work without its string, but I think you need it more than this museum does.”

With that, he straightened his uniform, his flamboyant masque rising over his features as he strode out of the room, leaving her alone with the haunted remnants of the great Sais and the bow of a dead man. Her thin hands closed around it tightly, and pulled it to her chest as she listened to the sound of the coming storm.

The gowns hung in their places, the jewels were tucked away in their box upon the desk, all the books arranged properly upon their shelves. The fine cloaks were left as well, the only things missing were the dark leathers, a backpack, the weapons and what everyone thought was a restored Greater Lightstone.

Word had been left – she had gone, and would only return if there were great need; it spawned many an argument within the meeting halls, but after a few weeks, even whispered theories died out. With Vemerik’s advice, she was able to vanish completely into the wilds of Norrath, free to find herself once more.

The waterfall hid the doorway entirely, its mists clouding the cave entirely even after one stepped close to it. Further down the embankment of the lake, two opposing factions with very similar goals camped, watching the activities in the area with interest and pressing passers by to aid them in their cause.

In the perpetual dark of Nektulos Forest, a lone rider made their way up the shores. The hooves of the misty mustang thundered against the ground but were lost within the thundering of the falling water. Fearless, the horse pressed forward, its rider barely urging it towards the cave that lay ahead.

The rider was a high elven woman clad in dark black, purple and silver leathers, her dark cloak fluttering back behind her in the wind. Fiery ringlets were mostly tied back by dull strings of crystal and silver, but several fluttered in the wind as well, bouncing with the stride of the horse. A great silver bow was strung across her back, but a large scepter and orb were strapped to her hips, contradicting what she may be capable of.

Almost a month prior, the woman and her mount had encountered a band of vampires near the shores of Port Naythex. She’d been searching for the reclusive shadowed men, hunting them and studying them when the group had appeared from a cave nearby. The battle had been surprisingly short, ending with a burst of starry wrath from the heavens that burned the monsters to ashes.

Since then, the woman had been investigating the D’morte brood with great interest, having found they were quite different from the vampires she had read about in the books from the Age of Turmoil. From what she had gathered from the Qeynosians camped upon the bank, this brood was just as great of a threat as those in the past had been, only more so as their weaknesses were slightly different from the traditional Norrathian vampire.

Her search through the tomb near the site of the first attack had uncovered an ancient magical crest, and the metallic sigil almost seemed to beckon towards the lake. After taking the form of a Dark Elf to speak to the Freeport camp of hunters, she’d approached the Qeynosians for more information. Between the two, she learned that the largest crypt of D’morte vampires lay beyond the waterfall, and it was suspect that their masters made their lair there as well.

Once behind the veil of water, she could finally see the door down into the crypts. She carefully tied the misty mustang to the wood, but left enough slack for the horse to escape should something attack it; being quite attached to its mistress, the mare would wait patiently unless harmed.

In the first few tunnels, she found only grinnin, living plants and empty coffins behind cracked walls. It was as if there had been other missions that drove the vampires deeper into the cave, allowing the more native residents to take hold. Further back, she discovered wurms and larger living plants, but nothing that couldn’t be left to burn in the wake of Nature’s wrath.

As she neared the last tunnel, she felt the air go cold and immediately she strained her senses. Finding that her elven form was too weak to sense anything more than the change in the air and the sound of the waters, the woman slowly transformed into a dark faerie wreathed in absinthe-coloured flames. Her weaponry changed with her, taking on an almost dark ethereal tone.

Quietly, she fluttered down the tunnel, listening for the sounds of more attackers. The strange silence disturbed her, and she realized that she could not hear the sound of her own wings as she neared an odd doorway in the rocks. Frightened, she turned and found herself facing several of the more powerful D’morte broodlings.

The first turned into a wolf and pounced at her, causing her to cease fluttering her wings and drop to the ground. As the wolf flew over her head, the second vampire lashed out at her with his claws, and she rolled sideways to avoid his claws. Before she had time to rise up again, the third vampire attacked, severing part of her wing with his sword as she tried to move out from beneath him.

Useless without flight, the woman quickly transformed back into a high elf, still wreathed in the now deadly flames. She turned to face the fourth vampire, blocking his mace with the metallic handle of her orb – sparks erupted from the contact, blasting across her attackers.

Though considerably difficult, she was able to conjure forth a burst of starfire, pushing the attackers back momentarily. The wolf writhed, engulfed in flames, shifting back into its humanoid form before turning into ashes. The other three attackers were burned, but still pressed their attack upon the woman.

Claws raked their way down her left arm, and a hammer smash to her hand caused her to drop the orb. She stepped back quickly, calling forth a wild bloodflow to regenerate the injuries while deflecting a swipe from the sword. The hammer hit her side, causing her to spin slightly and nearly fall sideways, interrupting her second attempt to call forth the wrath of stars.

Pinned momentarily to the wall, she deflected another attack from the sword while ducking to avoid the hammer only to have her shoulder ripped open by the claws. Reflexively, she screamed out a chant, causing a whirlwind of ice shards to spin up around the clawed vampire.

The surprised being stumbled back, swatting at the thousands of tiny shards whipping over his body and slowing his movements, giving the woman enough room to slip around the other two and get away from the wall. She ran a few steps, turned slightly, and snared the man with the hammer before turning to run once more.

She made it down the tunnel, and into one of the larger areas, but upon rounding the next corner, she ran into the broad chest of an even larger vampire, halting immediately against the wall of dead flesh. Stunned, she stumbled backwards and looked up into the face of the D’morte as he reached down and wrapped his hand around her throat. A cruel smile spread over the vampire’s face as he lifted her up off the ground, her feet kicking as her thin hands tried to pull the dead fingers from her throat.

Before she could form any further thought, she felt a familiar pain as the fourth attacker rounded the corner and sliced his sword into her back, except this time it ended with an exploding pain. She felt herself dropped to the ground as the larger vampire hissed out in an odd language to the sword wielder, and feebly she cast a weak regrowth upon herself.

The larger vampire raised both hands, and pushed them through the air toward the other broodling, causing the smaller vampire to fly backward down the hall. The sword dropped into the water as the being flayed across the rock wall of the previous corner, followed by a large splash as his body joined it.

Darkness clouded over the woman’s vision as the vampire turned back to her, and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him. She’d spent all of her energies staying alive and running, her injuries finally adding up and overpowering the weak regenerative energies. She couldn’t even feel it as the last vampire raked open her throat before turning back down the tunnel towards the strange door.

After less than a moment, her eyes began to close against her will, obscuring the figure rushing towards her. She felt herself lifted up by strong arms, pulled close to someone’s chest as they ran, and she felt warm again. Numb, she couldn’t feel the jostling of the run, the panicked grip of the hands, or hear the quiet mumblings of the man that carried her.

Her last thoughts were fanciful, as most are in death – she imagined that the arms that lifted her were that of Phenix, that in her death, he’d finally been given a way to come back to her. Her final thought was that he would carry her back home as he always had, and a small smile spread over her cold lips.

In her end, there was only the two of them, as they always had been.

She wasn't even supposed to be in Qeynos again for some time, but after a nasty run in with a group of gamblers that double crossed the court of Tears, some of her gear was beyond repair. There were a few things she could replace in Maj'dul for a fair price, however much of what she needed would either need to be imported for a hefty fee, or she would have to pick it up herself.

Night was falling by the time the Fury had gathered together the things she needed in Qeynos, picking up several other things she might have use for later, and shipped them off via the Norrathian Express. Twilight gave Qeynos an almost ethereal glow, and the woman decided to take a few minutes to walk around the pathways of North Qeynos, eyes moving between the stars and the glittering edifices of stone.

A man was walking passed the furniture proprioter's shop, dressed in a fine green and white tunic with a black pant becoming more and more popular amid the swashbuckling types of the city; two spectacular rapiers hung on either hip, glittering in the fading sunlight and faint lamplight. His hair was long, ragged in some respects, the longest portions of it being braided down his back. This dark brown hair covered his eyes, making it hard to see them in the fading light. He walked with an air of almost cockiness, confident in his stride yet somehow relaxed until he looked up at her.

He stopped as she passed, staring at her openly. She wasn't surprised, she hadn't bothered changing before coming to Qeynos, long fiery red tendrils still loose against her back, still clad in her Preceptor clothing - red leather pants with open strips down the side that were laced with black cord, a sleeveless red leather tunic with a low v-cut, also laced with black cord but still revealing and a pair of black leather bands around her upper arms...many men in Qeynos stared at so foriegn and revealing an outfit.

But something was different, and she slowly came to a halt a few feet away, turning to look back over her shoulder at the man. He was still staring, his hidden eyes watching her every move, though his features were expressionless as he lifted his head; his brown eyes locked with hers for a moment as he took a deep breath.

"Uh... hi..." he said, slowly.

The Preceptor-in-training blinked slightly, turning around to face him slowly. The man's lips moved again, but no sound came from them, as if he couldn't find his voice suddenly. She stared at him, pushing the hair from her eyes to see him better, to make sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her as it seemed to in the past.

Faintly, he whispered, "...thought I recog...."

Slowly, she took a few steps towards him, her head tilting from habit as she studied him. He gave her a nervous - and familiar - smirk, but merely stood still, holding the same breath he'd taken before speaking. She closed the space between them quickly, reaching out ever so slowly to touch his arm, as if she were convinced he was not actually there; the man flinched at the touch, still tryig to speak. When her fingers felt the soft fabrick of the tunic, she pulled her hand away in surprise.

"Av..." he managed quietly.

"...Phenix?" she breathed in reply.

Eyes wide with skepticism, she reached out agian for his shoulder, this time gripping it tightly as she whispered, "Please, for the love of Norrath, don't be a ghost..."

With a sad smile, he whispered, "Av... You're hurting me..."

She let go immediately, stepping backwards slightly as she spoke, "I'm sorry...I just..."

"I know.... " he said, his eyes clear with understanding.

She blinked at him in surprise, and he sighed deeply at her expressions. He'd just been wondering if he'd ever get to see her again, when he'd lifted his eyes to find a woman like her walking towards him, realising only as they passed that it was, in fact, Avaria. He couldn't believe it at first, even though he desperately wanted to - even now, it felt somewhat like a dream.

Whispering, he nodded, "Believe me... I know..."

Her expression was odd, almost guarded, as she was unsure of whether or not to start crying or embrace the man standing before her. For months, she'd dreamed about this very event, but slowly she'd lost faith in the idea that it would ever happen; she'd moved on, buried that side of herself deeply until after the fiasco surrouding the end of her relationship with Kacer had fallen apart. And now she was having to face it all again, unexpected, unprepaired as he slowly stepped forward while taking off his gloves.

"I uh..." he murmured, reaching up to touch her face, but stopping, afraid she might react differently now. "I remembered your smell, if you can believe that..."

She looked up at him, her eyes almost platinum in colour, their emotions swirling. Bits of guilt, a bit of sadness and something akin to relief danced in them as the two watched each other. She watched his hand move toward her then stop, and slowly she reached out for it with her own, fingertips barely touching to his. His eyes closed gently as he felt her skin brush and settle against his own, a sigh escaping from both of them.

With a faint smile, she replied, "I can..."

"...I remember this too..." he whispered, opening his eyes to look down at her.

For a moment, she could only blink and try to speak, but no words came from her mouth as she lost a bit of her composure, finally stammering, "I - I tried looking, I even went to Splitpaw - twice, but I..."

"...but you couldn't find me...." he said, finishing her sentence for her.

With a slight nod, and a frown, she explained, "Torleth told us you'd been there, but that you'd left...I didn't even know where to start from there..."

"Told you both," he said, adding, "you mean yourself and Fenuir, the Sai's son."

Cautiously, she asked, "You...you know Fenuir?"

For a moment, she thought that Fenuir had tricked her, knowing all along the answers they'd found in Splitpaw, merely leading her on an elaborate quest just so Phenix could gauge whether or not she'd be willing to take those sorts of risks again. She could only blink and try not to get angry when he nodded to her.

"I've been to Splitpaw since after you left," he replied, "...and you were right."

Her eyes widened, surprised by his answer. Her fingers were still touching his, but her freehand pushed the hair away from her face as she could only silently wonder why he hadn't come after her, if he had been to the gnolls' lair and knew she had been there, a twinge of pain flickering through her before the rest of his words registered.

Guarded again, she asked, "About?"

"I'm what was once Phenix, the Sai of old..." he answered with a frown.

Nodding slightly, with a puzzled expression, she whispered, "What - what made you believe...?"

Phenix turned his back to her, causing her to make a small sound as their fingertips moved apart.

"When I," he explained, "When I was in Splitpaw the first time...Torleth brought me back, from the brink of death, it seemed. And he didn't say it, but i could tell he... he had help..."

"You're," she paused slightly before whispering, "Father."

With a sigh, he replied, "Yeah... good ol' pop..."

He turned around to see her shiver, realising the idea might not be so comfortable for her. She looked up at him, her confused eyes platinum from emotion, and he found himself unable to look away from them again.

"I always wondered why I was captivated by your eyes, ya' know?" he breathed, a smirk coming to his lips.

Blushing slightly, she answered, "I...never thought about that, even after..."

She was having trouble focusing, the intense feeling Brodis had shared with her flickering through her mind, the few times Kacer mentioned some mad oracle speaking of a Phoenix, and more recently the few times she should have died but was saved at the last instant. Overlaying the images were words she and Brodis had spoken on the beaches of Nektulos, things that Phenix was never supposed to know.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Did he...tell you anything?"

"No... he was gone when I came to... and Torleth wouldn't tell me anything," Phenix replied, "Only that I was nearing the end of my search..."

Though she was sure she already knew the answer, she asked, "For?"

He remained silent, watching Captain Penley riding on horseback, waiting for her to pass before saying, "For who I was...and even now, that I know the truth...I don't feel any different..."

"You...you weren't supposed to," she explained, "Its not - its not what your Father wanted..."

"Brodis isn't my father, Avi," he said, shaking his head, "My father died a long time ago..."

"I know...but its the only association I could really give him after..." she halted mid-sentence, letting her words trail off.

He knew she was trying to hide something, instantly, despite their time apart. Tilting his head to look down into her eyes again, he repeated, "After...."

Biting her lower lip, she tried not to look up into his eyes, seeing that he actually had an expression of puzzlement on his face. He was curious, and she was treading dangerously into the things that Brodis hadn't wanted her to mention to him - she just wasn't sure if his concern was valid now that Phenix knew the truth.
"I...I'd have to show you," she said nervously.

"Well... I'd think you better," Phenix said, holding his hand out to her.

"You have to come with me to the sands then, I - I don't stay here anymore," she replied, unsure of whether or not he was aware of the isle of Ro.

"Ah," was his only reply.

She reached out and took his hand, shyly at first, but then she tightened her grip slightly. Holding Phenix' hand was still quite foriegn to her, though she had wanted to many times before he'd disappeared, but as their grip settled, it became more and more familiar to her, almost relaxing. She smirked slightly, looking up from their hands to find Phenix looking down the street towards the South, the Claymore and Irontoes visible in the shimmering torch lights.

"I have to check on my place... make sure the innkeepers haven't moved my things out," he said, half worried.

Her smirk widening, she casually answered, "They haven't."

He looked down at her, not understanding what she meant by that. It never occured to him that she might keep his apartment, keep the innkeepers from selling off his things to pay for lost rent or even worse. He'd really expected not to have anything left within the city, after all he had discovered on his way here.

"I still come take care of Fenuir - the dog - every few days," she explained, a mysterious smile touching her lips. "You'd be surprised some of the things I can have done in this city."

"The... dog?" he asked, blinking, "I have a dog?"

Blushing, she nodded, "Yes, I - I got him for you after you'd left...for a present. "I knew you had a wolf once..."

She turned, pulling his arm as she began walking down the road towards Irontoes East. At first he remained in place, giving her a stern look, before giving into her pull, still a little surprised by how strong she'd become while he was away. She was just like he remembered her, yet different enough to make him wonder about many things as they made their way down the lamp-lit streets...made their way back home.

Steelday, the 15th of Busheldown

2009-04-06T17:16:00.000-07:00

Long fingers reach out to hover above the smooth blue surface of the strange orb, the rainbow beneath it shimmering to life as the stone’s sentience stirred, connecting immediately to that of the high elven woman who sat at the desk its pedestal rested upon.

Behind the woman, tucked into their bed rested a half elven man with red streaked white hair. He was sleeping deeply after a long night of drinking and exhausting conversation. It had taken her much longer than usual to slip from his grasp, his arms holding tightly to her as if he were afraid she’d vanish.

She glanced back at him, a small smile upon her lips as she absently toyed with a strand of fiery red hair.

“All of these things transpired on Steelday, the 15th of Busheldown, after returning from the den of the Splitpaw Gnolls,” she thought before recalling her night.

The high elf drifted into the Mythic, clad in a blood red, black and silver robe. Her fiery red hair was mostly pulled up, the long curling tendrils falling in waves down her back, robe and hair tussled by a constant breeze. Several more patrons entered the tavern area from either the gardens or through the front door; eventually an odd mooing sound came from the garden area.

Avaria had glanced about the room, and was making her way to what once was her usual couch only to pause at the sound of the moo, blinking a few times as she shook her head and sat, a server bringing her a bottle of fayberry wine and glass immediately to her.

“Ooookay,” she almost giggled.

“Beats me,” Kerris said with a smile as he waved to Avaria.

Her attention was on Kerris as they spoke, and she did not see that Kacer stood at the doorway of the gardens, holding it open and snickering as he waited for the drunken Lyrah to come inside. Sandro entered the main room, the tall, lean man clad in black robes. A hood was drawn over his face, its shadows most of his features, the rest hidden behind a black bandana across his nose, mouth and chin. He swayed gently, Lyrah hoisted into position at his side in the usual 'I'm too drunk to carry myself' position.

The high elf merely shook her head again, pouring the wine into her glass, frost instantly covering it to chill the wine. The too slender, too small Koada`dal looks up at the other patrons, watching curiously as if looking for someone.

Lyrah stumbled along next to Sandro, leaning against him more than walking, and yelled to the patrons, “MMMMMMOOOOOOOO!!!”

“'Ow you been, Avaria?” Kerris began to ask, his voice trailing off at Lyrah’s outburst before adding, “Wine tonight must be really nice stuff.”

Avaria’s head turned to glance at Lyrah until Kerris’ question reached her ears, causing her eyes to drop down to her wine in a slightly nervous fashion. Kacer followed behind Sandro and Lyrah shaking his head. As he headed towards the bar where he left his drink he stopped cold, his eyes catching sight of Avaria. He stood unmoving, staring at her for a few minutes not sure whether she is real or just a ghost.

Sandro walked silently with Lyrah. From the shadows of a corner, a female shape with a long, black tail strode out, her curvy shape swaying with each movement. She fell in behind Sandro and Lyrah, clad in clothing that reveals much of her pale skin, a light smirk on her rose red lips.

The high elf glanced over, stopping her movements as she stared at the succubus, swallowing hard, fearful of the creature. The familiar green flames burst into vibrant life around her hands, as if an instinctual reaction to the beast, her silver eyes narrowing at it.

Vahhn almost hissed at the succubus, trying to control himself so he didn’t show his own demonic features. Sandro said nothing, simply guiding Lyrah toward the stairs. The succubus followed close, darting a wicked grin and a wrinkle of her nose at Kerris and the rest of the patrons who look at her. Her hand reached out, and gently took the back of Sandro's black robe into her fist, tottling along with him.

“Most of those are pretty antisocial, no?” Kerris shook his head, his attention returning to Avaria, realizing her defensiveness. “Easy. No reason t'fret.”

Sandro looked over his shoulder and stared at the succubus that followed them up the stairs. The succubus paused, the emotion in her face dropping. With a quiet hiss, her hand buried into Sandro's pocket, and then produces a small bag. Turning on her heels, she strides back downstairs and moves to the bar. Sandro and Lyrah proceed on, dissapearing into the shadows at the top of the stairs.

Avaria turned to look back at Kerris after the strange man and Lyrah vanished up the stairs, stopping cold to look at Kacer. She smiles brightly, blushing lightly just looking at him.

“Kacer!” she exclaimed, her happiness at seeing him clearly evident on her features.

Kerris followed Avaria’s eyes, smiling faintly, not offended by the shift in her attention at all when finding out who she was looking at. Kacer glanced down at the necklace he was wearing and pulled it off as he finished crossing to his drink. Hearing her voice he turned pale and quickly finished his wine.

Rising from her couch, she walked quickly over to Kacer, still smiling. Turning around to her, he blinked, holding the chain in his hand he glanced at the succubus for a moment before shifting his attention back to Avaria – still trying to determine if she's real or not. She opened her arms and gave him a hug before realizing he didn't smile or anything. He tilted his head at her, then stiffened at the hug, a gut reaction. He glanced over her form as he tried to decide if he'll speak to her. She pulled away slightly to look at him.

“What,” he stated through clenched teeth, shrugging slightly.

Her smile faultered greatly, becoming a frown. She looked at him, confused for a moment before it slowly dawned on her what might be wrong. When he spoke, voice cold, she pulled away entirely.

“Nevermind,” she whispered, looking away from him sadly. She turned quickly, head down as she nearly ran to the gardens. Avaria burst through the garden doors, walking quickly to a bench near the fence to fall beside it, her arms rising to rest on the bench, sobbing as her head buried in them.

The half elven boy kicked the bar as he cursed himself, heading back towards the gardens while tossing Savriel a glare.

“Shut up,” he growled, and Savriel narrowed her eyes, her smirk faltering as something dangerous came into her eyes, but the girl turned back to the bar with a shrug.

For a moment, he paused at the door to the gardens, resisting the urge to kick it open; instead quietly opens the door. The high elf sat on the ground, head resting on arms that were still folded on the bench beside her, face hidden against them as she cried softly, the last month crashing down upon her mind.

Kacer mumbled to himself as he entered the gardens, “So damn stupid.”

He looked around not being familiar with the gardens, looking for the familiar form as he called out, “Avaria?”

After a moment, he continued walking down the path and caught sight of her. He walked towards her, but didn’t sit down when he finally reached her on the far side of the garden. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced towards her.

“Dammit, Avaria, what did you expect?” he muttered, clearly hurt. “You took off without a word chasing after your old flame?”

She looked up, turning her upper body to look at Kacer, brushing away her tears with the silvery edge of her large sleeves, as if trying to hide from him that she was upset.

“I...I'm sorry, Kacer. I just...I have to know he's not coming back because,” her voice trailed off as she looks up at him, more tears slipping down her cheeks as she stared at him.

“Avi, you made plans to die,” Kacer replied, finally taking a seat. He propped his elbows on his knees and pushed his fingers into his hair as he sighed, his brows furrowing almost in anger, “I...oh hell I dunno...”

“I was told the gnolls were dangerous. I had to think of my duty to Qeynos...that the books and artifacts would be taken to their appropriate places,” she sniffled as she paused before finally adding, “...I nearly did die, which is why I know he's dead.”

As if finishing his thought, only half aware of her words, he sighed, “I didn't even know that was you in there dammit, I thought you were...I thought you were a ghost or something and since the Raven was were we were happy, you were going to haunt me there or something.”

“They are far too fierce for him not to be,” her voice trailed off at his words, and she looked quite stunned.

Her words had impacted Kacer hard, reminding him again that he nearly lost her. His hurt was evident as he clenched his jaw and asked, “And what was stopping you from talking to me first? You couldn't leave me a note or someting?”

The high elf frowned, biting her lip, fresh tears falling down her face as she tried to justify her actions to him, “Trecle...she frightened me...the images of Br- the being that kept Phenix alive all this time frightened me...”

“It's just...I feel invisible because whenever we talk or are enjoying each other's company and 'he' comes up – you bring him up or someone else does and you just fall apart or freak out or something,” Kacer continued, his voice pained as he nodded, “Yeah, I know, you told me about all that and I can't pretend to understand it…I wasn't there, but he's not here anymore…I am.”

Avaria looked up at Kacer, dumbfounded. Her eyes went wide, unsure of what to say. Finally, she looked away, tears falling down her cheeks faster. When she spoke, her voice was shaking.

“Oh, Norrath...Kacer...I'm sorry. I,” her voice trailed off as she choked, lowering her head back to her arms to cry.

Kacer frowned, tilting his head at her. He turned to face her on the bench, his brows furrowed as he took her chin to turn her face back to his. She stared up at him with teary eyes, and he felt like his heart was going to break – he couldn’t stand to see her cry, especially when it seemed he was the cause of it.

“Sorry for what?” he asked softly, frowning.

“For being so confused, for lingering over what's been lost so badly I can't see what's here before me,” she choked, “I just...its so hard to forget...so hard not to be afraid that it will happen all over with someone else...”

Frowning, Kacer sighed again, “I wish that I could promise that for you, but you know I can't.”

“I know...and that's why I'm afraid,” she replied, frowning and nodding as she lifted one sleeve to wipe at her cheeks.

“You know I,” he paused, glancing down, then back up at her with a smirk, “you know I care a lot for you. I can't promise all the things I would like to, like guaranteeing some assassin isn't going to catch up with me one day. Maybe that's why I tend to live each day at a time, and try to live each day to the fullest that I can, ya know? But I have to admit that when I heard what you were doing, I wanted to hate you for it but..I couldn't.”

As he spoke, she frowned up at him. She felt horrible for what she had done to him, even though she hadn’t realized that was what she was doing, and his words only made her feel worse.

“You...couldn't,” she smiled faintly, pushing away more tears.

“I tried to tell myself that you were already dead, or that I never lo...loved you or that you never felt the same, that we were fooling ourselves and that it was all just a daydream,” he rambled, nodding to her, “really tried hard to lie myself out of this one, and I've been able to lie myself in and out of things before, but this was the first time it didn't work. See, I figured if you knew all that you'd hate the real me.”

All she could do was blink up at Kacer, her mouth falling open at his words as she begins to shake slightly. For a long moment, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, couldn’t believe the two small words he’d spoken.

“You…” she whispered, the rest of her sentence nearly inaudible, “love me?”

Kacer blinked, his head snapping up, not realizing what he had said earlier. His eyes widened for a moment before he shrugged, then nodded, “Yeah, guess so. If I can't lie to myself over you, I dunno what else to call it.”

“I can't lie to you, and I can't lie to myself about you. I can't hurt your feelings and I just can't be mean to you. I can do it to anyone else in there,” he continued, motioning back towards the tavern section of the inn, “but..not..you.”

“I don't know what to call that either....I'm so...so happy to hear you say everything,” she cried, blinking and smiling up to him despite her falling tears, watching him fidget nervously. “To be...cared about enough that you can't do those things to me...”

After a moment, she quietly added with a still shakey voice, “I don't know what love is, Kacer. I – I thought what Phenix and I had might be it, but I was wrong.”

Her mind wandered back over things that had happened with Phenix, realizing that only one or two things were even remotely more than what friends were. Her thoughts then raced over how things had been since meeting Kacer, and she nodded slightly in confirmation for herself.

“But I do know you make me happy,” she said, blushing furiously.

“I figure if you aren't willing to hurt someone and you trust them, you love them,” Kacer replied, still looking a little nervous and unsure of himself.

Smiling up at him, Avaria slowly slipped up onto the bench beside him, continuing to look over at him once she’d settled down. She almost felt like she couldn’t take her eyes off him, that he’d disappear just like Phenix if she did. Her smile faulted slightly as she began to speak, again feeling guilty for what she’d done to him.

“I'm...I'm sorry my foolishness hurt you, Kacer,” she almost whispered. He glanced towards her nervously, not sure what to say. Instead he simply shrugged, returning her intense stare. She frowned slightly at his response, unsure of whether or not he accepted her apology.

“Are...are you over him yet? Or still mourning him?” Kacer asked, leaning back against the bench, fingers fidgeting nervously as he spoke.

She stared at him, unsure of what answer to give. She knew what he wanted to hear, but she wasn’t sure what the real answer was just then, still so confused by what was happening in her life.

“I mean you said they gnolls were hard, unforgiving, means he's really dead right?” wincing at his words, he added, “Sorry, I mean...well...sorry, I just wanted to know.”

Pausing for only a moment, watching how nervous he was, she quickly replied, “I...mourn him, Kacer. For me, at least, it takes time to not hurt when thinking about it...but I...”

“He is gone, and I need to move on,” she finished after a moment.

“I know, Im sorry. I just don't want you to do what I did…to mourn him into eternity,” Kacer replied, fidgeting more before adding, “I understand missing him and all that...I just...I hated feeling invisible...”

“I...I'm sorry. The ghosts of the past were - they hid the present from me,” she replied, tilting her head to watch him as she frowned.

“They do that, mine still hide now,” he said, glancing at the chain still in his hand before pocketing it, “but learning more about that...”

Kacer gave her a small smile, wrapping an arm around her before pressing his lips to her forehead, whispering, “And I admit, I missed staying near you too, I like that guest bed.”

“I...we should stay in my library from now on, Kacer,” she replied, frowning a little. “There's an entire bedroom I kept hidden...just so Phenix would let me stay in his room.”

Her words surprised him, though he wasn’t quite sure which part did more – the fact she had a bedroom in the library or the fact she had to hide it for Phenix to let her sleep in his room.

“You have an extra bed in your library?” he asked, confused as he thought over her statement.

“I have an entire bedroom - desk, engraving table, large bed, candles...books, my pets go in there,” she laughed slightly, “The magics Sage Indius put on the door for me hide it, making it look like another room that is empty save for my desk.”

“Well, okay but um... where's the other bed?” he asked, nodding slowly as his brows furrowed in confusion, his ears turn a slight shade of red. “With only one bed we'd have to... wait. you mean...”

“Well...we, um...eh...we could...or move the other bed in....or, erm,” she blushed brightly, her voice trailing off.

Kacer smiled, his ears turning bright red as his heart started racing. He nervously said, “Your bed…it's um, heh, your choice but the idea of sharing sounds um, well... nice.”

Avaria stared at Kacer, eyes wide and mouth gaping, turning almost as red as her hair. He glanced at her curiously, amused by her reaction to the situation.

“Huh?” he said. “What is it?”

“I just...well...even with Phen...only had someone sleep next to me like....twice,” she whispered, shivering from nervousness and from being flustered.

“Twice?” he smirked, “Only time I did that was when I was a kid and had nightmares and would crawl into my parent’s bed with them.”

Blushing as she nodded, she replied, “Yeah, twice…I didn’t have parents.”

“Well, we're even – I didn't have them for long,” he smirked in reply.

Still blushing brightly, the high elf nodded to him as she stammered, “We...we'll figure out, um...well, where you'll sleep.”

He nodded as he watched her. He reached up to where her tears once were and wiped away anything that might still reside there as he whispered, “Feel better?”

“Much, yes,” she said, nodding as her own hands rose to brush at her cheeks with the silvered sleeves. She stared at him for a moment, almost about to cry again, “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it's probably me who should apologize, unless there was no damage done but still, I didn't have to be so mean in the bar back there,” Kacer replied, shaking his head.

She frowned slightly, biting her lower lip as she murmured, “I...I was just happy to see you...”

Glancing up, he noticed that she's on the brink of tears and he shook his head, pulling her close to him.

“It's okay look, it's fine don't cry,” he whispered as he wrapped both arms around her to try and reassure her of this. She fell against him, head leaning on his shoulder as she nodded. He gently added, “I know, and I was surprised. Like I said, I was trying to lie to myself and I can't lie when it comes to you, it backfires and doesn't work.”

Tilting her head up to look at him, she smiled and whispered, “I’m…I’m glad you can’t.”

Smiling down at her, Kacer tilted is head to steal a kiss from her lips. She blushed brighter, eyes opening wide before slowly closing, returning his kiss shyly. Brushing his hand against her cheek, he broke away to smile at her, his voice low, “I missed that.”

For a moment, she smiled up at him, blushing hard and looking downward as she replied, “I did too...its, well, nice.”

“One way to put it,” he replied with a smirk.

Leaning her head on his shoulder, she hid her face from him as she whispered, “I missed you…”

“Took you going all the way to Splitpaw, making arrangements for your death…just to figure that out?” he asked in a playful voice, smirking.

She giggled, playfully hitting him with her fist as she added, “Well, ya know, really you need to add the Almost Dying to that.”

Kacer snickered playfully, rubbing the spot where her tiny fist had struck him, trying to act like such a small swat actually hurt.

“Ow, hey now,” he laughed.

“Oh yes. I forgot - you're a mage. A strong wind will kill you,” she said, smirking. With that, the wind about her kicked up playfully, tugging at his jacket and hair.

“Oh, you'll enjoy this,” Kacer said, suddenly remembering something. Lifting his left hand, he glanced at it for a moment, and suddenly a snapping noise was heard. A fiery serpent appeared and weaved its way around his arm and fingers, moving along the length of his arm.

“Wait...that's not it,” he said with a frown. She laughed, nuzzling against his chest as she watched the flamed snake.

“It is pretty though,” she giggled.

As he continued to eye his hand, the serpent moved faster and his hand started to glow with a fire of its own, melding with the serpent. The concentration on his face was intense and only a small portion of his hand and arm was glowing with a small flame. He very slowly and quietly spoke, as if it takes quite a bit of effort, obvisouly concentrating on his trick more than speaking, “T-h-e-r-e...”

Avaria smiled brightly at his trick, her own hands becoming wreathed with their green flames. Slowly, she reached her hand out to hover beside his, watching the flames lick at each other. Kacer grinned, watching the flames, though eventually his died down, causing him to shrug.

“Not real good at that but it's coming along,” he said.

She slipped her outreached hand into his, smiling as she giggled, “It was very pretty.”

He smiled, watching her hand slip into his, folding his fingers with hers as he shrugged. “Thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

He held their hands against his chest, lowering his head so his chin touched them, thinking quietly about their conversation. Her voice pulled his mind from its thoughts, making him smile.

“I missed that too,” she whispered, smiling at their hands.

He glanced around, realizing he didn't bring his drink outside. Quietly, he whispered, “I'm not thisty but I didn't bring my drink outside for you, do you want anything? I can go back in...get you..”

Kacer blinked upon hearing her words, voice trailing off as he turned back to look at their hands. He smirks and finished his sentence, “get you something....”

“Do you want to stay out here...or go back inside?” she asked, tilting her head, “I’m fine with either.”

“I don't care, I just thought,” he smirked, shrugging, “thought you might be thirsty is all.”

“Oh, stars!” she exclaimed as she blinked, realizing she must have dropped her glass somewhere on the trail, “I think I owe Duvessa a glass...”

He relaxed against the bench and smiled, watching her as his thumb brushed against her arm, his other thumb brushed her hand. With a smile and shrug, he murmured, “She'll survive, many people have broken glasses in here, I've seen it happen, she'll live minus one glass.”

Avaria giggled, nodding. She shivered from his touches, curling up in his arms happily. Kacer grinned mischievously, watching her and using the opportunity to nuzzle himself up to her neck. The high elf tensed, sighing slightly at the touch, enjoying the feeling of such again after a long time without it. After a moment, she smiled at Kacer, sliding off his lap to stand, her hand slipping down his arm to his hand as she waited for him.

“Let's get your bags and head out then,” she giggled. He nodded and stood from the bench, yawning while taking her hand with his. He didn't say anything as they headed towards the inn for his bags, content to just smile – happy that she was alive and that they worked things out.

They quickly fetched his bags, the pretty high elf blushing brightly as they walked through the inn and out into the night, the wind about her kicking up to playfully tug at his jacket and hair.

She glanced back to the bed, a small smile on her lips as she slipped away from her desk and the strange orb that rested there. The rainbow beneath the blue stone faded again, both resting as Avaria made her way back to the bed. After a moment of standing to just watch the half elven man sleep, she crawled into bed beside him, sighing softly as his arms reached out and wrapped tightly about her.

Brewday, the 9th of Busheldown

2009-04-06T17:15:00.000-07:00

Upon a desk in Qeynos, deep within a library, sits a pedestal. This pedestal was designed to hold a Greater Lightstone, but this particular piece did not do so – instead it held a blue hued stone that danced above a faded rainbow circle.

A woman sits at the desk, her long, curling fiery red hair tumbling over her shoulders like a waterfall at sunset. Before her on the desk is a thick leatherbound tome; it is open to a section near the middle, and her fingertips trace over the delicate writing while her other hand hovers over the stone.

The stone pulses with a faint light, images swirling to life inside it as she reads. The images come from her memories as she reads over her own past, the stone slowly leeching away each scene.

Once she finishes reading, she looks to the stone and whispers gently to it. Instantly, the immediate area fades away and the images from her memories come to life about her, and she watches them play out.

One man appears many, many times as the memories play out, and each time she cries silently as she watches him – once there was a time where the two were together everyday, until the man vanished without a trace.

When the scenes finish their dance, the room fades back into view. Behind her, fast asleep on the bed, lies a different half-elven man; his hair is white, streaked with red and his skin is ashen. His chest is bare above the covers, and his arm is stretched out over the bed as if expecting someone else to be there.

Sighing softly, the woman raises her other hand to the orb and closes her eyes.

“The following events transpired on Brewday, the 9th of Busheldown. Kacer and I had been relaxing at the Raven, having not seen each other for a nearly a week. He had taken to doing what he could to make me blush, without attracting much attention, when a woman walked in that would shatter our peace,” she thought quietly.

As she walked down the stairs, the half elven woman yawned and called out, “Hello, everyone.”

Kacer smirked down at the woman in his arms, replying, “Well we're even, I'm quite the expert at vanishing.”

She giggled, nodding slightly to Trecle, curling up closer against Kacer as she quietly said, “Maybe. You've yet to vanish on me.”

The half elven woman walked to the bar, ordering a drink and a plate of fruit before settling down at a near-by table. She sat down a bag, and began rummaging through its contents while she waited for her order.

“Now why would I want to do a thing like that?” Kacer asked, smiling down at the fiery red-head in his arms.

“Well, I mean...eh,” she replied, flustered and blushing madly, “just saying that I don't believe you're good at vanishing because I haven't seen you do so yet.”

The drunken Ratonga at the bar looked to the half elven woman and sputtered, “Hello....well my sister....hates me...I stole her boyfriend along time agao...so she had him killed and then came after me herself. Ands she has yets to gets me!”

The crazed rat laughed delighted and sipped at his drink, staring at the half elven woman as he did.

“Sounds like a bad day. Lets see I just got some of my memory back am looking for someone I care about deeply and cant find,” she rattled off, smiling and winking at the rat, “and much other things. But its a good day.”

“That an invitation?” Kacer asked, a sly smile that faded to a playful grin spreading across his lips as he stared down at her. “Are you asking me to vanish?”

She blinked, looking up at him with a frown, traces of fear in her eyes, “No! I mean, I uh...well, I didn't mean it like that...”

“I've had enough people vanish on me,” she whispered quietly a moment later, looking towards the doorway. She half expected Phenix to walk through the doors, perhaps near death, trying to find her, but they remained closed.

“Hells yes my sister has a tendency to fall in love with extreamly....strong....feminine men. ha...lucky me!” the Ratonga giggled before asking, “Feeling better Trecle?”

“I was only playing, I didn't mean it that way,” his smile slipped away as he looked down, voice fading into a whisper as he kissed her cheek, “Sorry I forgot, I got carried away.”

She shook her head, sighing slightly as she curled up against Kacer. Quietly, her voice almost airy, “I...I know. I shouldn't have gotten upset, it's just that....well, you know what happened with Phenix and everything…”

“I know. I forgot sometimes I'm not the only one whose lost people along the way,” he whispered gently to her, “I'll try to be more mindful.”

“Yes much better. Thank you, Baxter,” the half elf girl replied, finding the odd rat had fallen asleep. Her ears perked slightly as Avaria spoke, and she said, “I know that name – Phenix.”

Avaria looked over to the half elven woman, her silver eyes going wide as the colour drained from her already pale features. She stammered out, “You...you do?”

“Yes.. Did somethign happen to him?” the woman asked before stating, “He is in my book sketches from the past.”

Kacer turned to glance at the woman, a slight look of annoyance washing over his features as he pulled Avaria closer to him, not wanting to loose the peaceful evening they were having any more than he already had.

“Would you like to see them?” she asked Avaria.

For a moment, the high elven woman sat stunned, holding onto Kacer as if she would fall over otherwise. After a moment, she whispered, “Yes please...and he, well, he went missing and I believe he was killed.”

Kacer leaned his head forward, looking down at the woman in his arms, his face instinctively softening as he looked at her. Quietly, hoping she would change her mind, he asked, “You sure about this?”

“I...I have to,” she replied, nodding slightly.

“You don't 'have' to do anything,” he said, tilting his head to give her a puzzled look, “The question was asking if you wanted to.”

His statement went unanswered, as the woman spoke again before Avaria even had time to think upon his words.

“I am missing someone too we can not find,” she said sadly, reaching down into her bag. Carefully, she pulled out three very, very old sketchbooks and walked over to sit in front of the couch Kacer and Avaria were on.

“These where foudn with me,” she explained, opening up a red sketchbook and leafing through a few pages. Each page had a different image of an older Phenix, but it was clearly the same man Avaria knew.

She stared at the images before quietly, the tremble audible in her voice as she looked at the woman, she asked, “Where...where were these found? And do you know from when they were from?”

“You speak of someone now though.. This man was,” the other woman paused thoughtfully, “Well, he’s in pictures of a long ago.”

“He,” the high elf began, pausing. “It is a long story, but he was alive in the now and he was alive in the Age of Turmoil.”
“These were found with me when I was found,” she answered, “and there from oh about 500 years ago from what we can figure.”

Smiling slightly as she watched Avaria pick up the red sketchbook, she said, “I am Trecle Everhart, pleasure to meet you.”

The woman on the couch nodded to Trecle, barely able to look away from the sketchbook, the images of Phenix and Brodis stealing nearly all of her attention. Finally she replied, “Avaria Calacirya...do you, well, have any idea why you have these books, or who had them before you?”

After seeing several sketches, she murmured, “Gods, he looks so old...”

“No I was only told that they where mine,” Trecle said, frustrated, “And that they would tell me of my past. Not that they have helped me in anyway."

Avaria turned a page to see an image of Phenix standing beside a woman. The woman looked quite familiar from a description he had given her after they had encountered Latharos down in Stormhold. Trecle saw the image she stared at, and pulled out a small wedding band.

“This belonged to the women there in that picture,” she said, pointing to the woman in the image. “A man named Lexior gave it to me.”

The high elf continued to look through the sketchbooks, looking up at Trecle from time to time. A slight prick of jealousy stabbed into her heart whenever an image of Areanna and Phenix would appear before her eyes, but largely she felt a fond sadness as she looked over the images.

“Areanna Imshee'cro...I know her, well, what she looks like,” she murmured idley. “Phenix, uh, showed me.”

Annoyed, Kacer pulled away from Avaria, taking a long sip of his drink before setting it aside and folding his arms. He leaned back, watching the two women, wishing that Phenix had never existed.

With the book open to an image of Areanna and Phenix, Avaria looked between Trecle and the book again, brow furrowing in thought, as if she debated on saying something or remaining silent.

Trecle caught her quizzical looks and laughed gently before replying, “Yes, I know the women looks like me. Everyone says that. I figure she is some anseter or something.”

“I think you may be her grand daughter or great granddaughter,” Avaria replied absently, turning the pages again. “Areanna's surname was Everhart, though Phenix never explained to me when it changed, only that her Father gave her a new surname.”
An elaborate and detailed image unfolded over two pages, and Trecle pointed to it excitedly, as if it might be one of her most favourite sketches, exclaiming, “Look here – Areanna wedding.”

Nodding to Trecle, she flipped through the sketchbook several more times. She paused often, staring down at an image that appeared to be two half elven boys. It was Phenix and Brodis, it had to be, and the image of both of them together unnerved Avaria further. Absently, her fingers reached up to the tiny jeweled firefly in her left ear, almost afraid that Brodis was watching her…knew about what was happening between her and Kacer.

Still quite annoyed, Kacer played with a string at the edge of his shirt as he shifted slightly on the couch. Their conversation was unnerving as much as it was annoying, and the half elf was quite upset by how deeply it had drawn in his companion.

The book opened again to the wedding, and Avaria again looked at the image Trecle showed her, nodding slowly as she replied, “I've heard about that event, though from others who were alive then.”

Trecle nodded, opening another book to show Avaria sketches of two half elves. They appeared to be a boy and a girl, the male baring a striking resemblance to Phenix while the girl looked a lot like Areanna and Trecle.

“That is Telian and Fenir I think,” she explained, “From what I can find out, anyways.”

Glancing at the other sketchbook, the high elf said plainly, “Their children.”

Avaria’s eyes slipped away to look down at another image of Phenix and Brodis together, and she realized she wished that Brodis had appeared that way when he had visited her, rather than the horrid, dead Ogre he had come to her as.

“That man there haunts my dreams,” Trecle murmured ominously as she pointed to Brodis. “I cannot get him out.”

Looking back down at the image of the twins, Trecle said, “It was said she died in childbirth. But legends say her father could not handle her death and he brought her back. Only no one has seen her since then.”

Holding up the sketchbook again, she showed Avaria an elaborate image that sprawled over two pages. The artistry was quite a bit different from the rest, almost out of place.

“She died, see there,” the other woman explained, “her funeral, drawn by someone else, is the last entry in the book.”

Almost hesitantly, Avaria said, “She was murdered, Trecle.”

“Oh that is a new story who murdred her?” Trecle said, seemingly not phased by the statement, only curious about it.

Avaria looked at the image of the funeral, recalling what Vahhn had told her as she explained, “Her aunt apparently. Even her guardian angel could not save her, and at the time, Phenix was no where to be found either.”

“No no,” Trecle replied. “Her death, just like the prophecy said, she died giving birth. Her aunt, um, I don’t remember her name, killed her before they had children. See here, she had to carry that.”

Trecle flipped back to some pages to an image of Areanna and Phenix standing next to the Lord of Darkeness, Faileas. The man seemed larger than life, frightening even in imagery, strange gauntlets seeming to claw their way up his arms, his long hair falling over his shoulders.

Kacer finally slid his eyes towards them both, then glanced at the books. A frown crossed his face with each mention of the name Phenix as they speak, but he continued to keep his arms folded…his ears tilted curiously towards the conversation as he sits idly, drinking from his cup from time to time.

“Hmm. I suppose the person who told me withheld some information on the whens,” Avaria pondered.

“Something that kept her alive,” Trecle explained, “her guardian angel gave his life for her to keep hers. I could be wrong though.. I only see the visions of the dreams of those times.”

After watching Avaria stare at the images of Phenix for a long moment, Trecle asked, “Is there a way to find out when the last time he was killed?”

Absently, the high elf nodded slightly, staring down at an image of one half elven man, then flipping to another to stare before looking back at the first. She recalled the intensity of the feelings Brodis had shared with her that night on the shores of Port Naythex, recalled how she had found that he was not a demon, but a powerful Nature spirit.

“He...he's not so bad, the man who haunts your dreams. He, well, he has left Norrath now as he is largely disinterested and content with how the world has become once more,” she murmured.

“Good then,” Trecle prickled, “He can stay out of my head and saying strange things.It seems like a very intrsting history though.”

Sighing, Trecle closed the book she held, explaining, “I have stopped my research because I am looking for Selgren – he has gone missing and its worrying me very much.”
Avaria nodded faintly, staring down at the images, her features pale as if she'd seen a ghost. Tears formed in her eyes, but she did not cry as she stared at her lost love.

“It was, from what little I've found of it for him...before he...,” her voice faded as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks.

Smiling softly, Trecle took her hand and gently said, “You know, the history accounts that a Stormryder can not be killed. Don’t give up hope. And if he did die, he will be safe.”

At the other woman’s words, the high elf nearly fell over, her other hand holding the sketchbook against her chest. She tried to speak, her mouth moving without sound. Kacer lifted a brow as he turned to look but doesn't move from his spot. He recalled that a strange woman who seemed touched with prophetic abilities had told him a Phoenix would rise from the flames of an old lover to seek him out, but he tried to push such thoughts from his mind.

“H-he can't. Not with...w-with that man fr-from your dr-dreams gone,” she finally stammered out.

“You can never lose something part of you, miss, never,” Trecle whispered, “their in your blood.”

Carefully Avaria closed the sketchbook, her expression torn between fear and sadness, her hands cold, body trembling. She whispered faintly, “He's not a phoenix...” as the wind about her kicked up slightly, caressing her almost as if it is concerned for her.

“No, but he is a fighter,” the other woman said gently, “You know him not me…you would know better though.”

Avaria handed the book back to Trecle, looking at her but not quite focusing on her. She glanced around the tavern before standing, the bottle of wine spilling as her foot taps against it

“I..." she began, the first tear falling down her cheek as she turns for the door, “I...have to go...

She murmured something about ancient gnolls as she walked quickly towards the door. She slipped out the door, breaking into a run as her body rapidly morphed into that of a small, winged being.

Leaning back in her chair, Avaria sighed deeply. She felt the pains of guild as she recalled the event, feeling horrible at how she had let Kacer vanish from her mind when someone brought anything of Phenix to her. Chasing the ghost of her past had hurt him deeply, and she felt horrible that she had not been able to accept that Phenix was gone and enjoy what Kacer had offered her.

Glancing back at his form, she smile slightly before turning to the stone again, hands lifting once more.

“It was then I returned here to Qeynos, making arrangements with my landlord in case I did not come back. Once I was assured that my treasures would be given to the Concordium, I left for the lair of the Splitpaw Gnolls; sadly, they were so fierce, I could not even make it trough the upper levels of their tunnels,” she thought, sadness washing over her.

“Such feral and wild creatures would not allow anything but their own to live, I can see that now. He may have been alive when Norrath spoke to me, however, after what I have witnessed, I know he could not be so now.”

“Phenix Stormryder is dead,” she paused, mind swirling with intense sadness. “It is time to let his ghost go…”

Windday, the 31st of Warmstill, 3725

2009-04-06T17:13:00.002-07:00

Kacer has spent several evenings here in the past week, though I am not comfortable allowing another man to sleep in what was Phenix' bed beside me, so he rests upon the guest bed.

Last eve was so very intense.

Kacer has a tendency to cause or fall into trouble, and such occurred several times last night. When he and the shadow knight began to get into things, I almost became worried that I would have to put both into their place, but when he saw how upset I was, Kacer let the matter drop.

It was then he said something so very...well, it made me feel quite happy despite wishing that Phenix had given such words to me.

He told me how his parents had left him at an inn, making him stay there while the went to their deaths. They had told him that he was their most precious treasure, and that he must be kept safe because he was worth so much to them.

Then Kacer told me that to him, I was a precious treasure, and that I was worth protecting - that he must remember that when I am there, he not only puts himself into danger from his troubles, but me as well and that he cannot allow that.

He is so expressive, which is so different from what I am used to. And each time I tell him that, he tells me he cannot fathom why any man couldn't express such things to me, and I fear that perhaps both Norrath and Brodis were wrong about Phenix' feelings for me. Perhaps I was nothing more than his friend, since he never treated me like this.

The attentions and affections from Kacer are what I've wished to have for so long, I almost faint each time he kisses me, or caresses me. I look forward to going to the Mythic now, and hope in a silent anxiousness that Kacer will ask to sleep here again, though we sleep in seperate rooms.

I've never quite felt this lo...cared for before. Phenix always made it clear he wanted me near him, but never like this; he never was romantic, or affectionate...he was always just...a friend.

Tear stains mark the bottom of the page, mixing into the ink and causing the last few words to run slightly.

Steelday, the 25th of Warmstill, 3725

2009-04-06T17:13:00.001-07:00

Many weeks have passed, slipping away into months. At first the days were becoming a blur of longing and busy work, until I finally broke; then my days became long and silent, lost in meditation upon the shores of the distant shores of Port Naythex.

In time, Norrath spoke to me again, like it did the night I met Brodis, the night so much changed so dramatically. Norrath taught me much, some of which is just beyond my fingertips, but now I know the truth...once I can accept it, the rest shall fall into place.

Norrath spoke to me of many things, not only about myself, but about others...about Phenix.

His ship had gone to Freeport, and while he was there, he was betrayed by our once ally Blight Viggtu. In then end, Phenix was given over to a tribe of gnolls that have suddenly resurfaced in Norrath...an ancient tribe from back before the Rending, from the Age of Turmoil.

I wished to go to him, destroy the gnolls and take him back, bring him home, but Norrath told me to do so would only endanger him further - assured me that in time he would be allowed to come back to me.

We did agree on one thing - that Viggtu must be punished for what he has done, removed from the face of Norrath so that his plague no longer taints her flesh. Regretfully, Viggtu saw through my illusions and summoned the guards of Freeport, and I had to withdrawl to Qeynos.

It has been many weeks since then, and I have still not heard from Phenix; Norrath remains silent as far as the son of Brodis is concerned, and I fear that he may be dead. Though I do not entirely accept my loss, I must continue, as I know that is what Phenix would want - for me to continue the work we had begun.

Fate has drawn me back to the Raven, and after several visits, she has put me into the most unique situation. Though I still long for my Stormryder, another has captured my attentions, perhaps because of how much he reminded me of Phenix initially. Now, I think, it is more than that as they are still so very different.

His name is Kacer, and unlike many individuals I meet, he was not in the slightest put off or frightened by my...awkward features. In fact, I believe he is quite enthralled by the manifestations of Norrath, as the first night we spent talking by the fire he was entirely fascinated by the absinthe-flames I conjure.

Each time I encounter him, I find myself blushing, unable to speak properly for all his attention. While I may have spent almost every day with Phenix, rarely if ever did he show me so much affection, no where near that which Kacer has given the few days I've known him.

The last time we spent curled up together upon our hearthside couch, he was very hesitant, as if something bothered him yet he tried to make me so comfortable, asking me about how I had been since we had last spoken. Eventually, he revealed to me that a strange girl had been about the Mythic, spouting prophesies and reading people's inner most thoughts.

Kacer said this girl spoke of a dead Phoenix that would rise to recapture his flame, that would break his hands for holding the elemental girl...that he could not kill Kacer because it was beyond him now, the beast that drove him to do such things long since banished from him.

His words terrified me, as so much became clear in those few moments, but it was nothing I could speak of in the Raven. Instead, I begged him to come to my Library, and he complied, meeting me in Qeynos to discuss what this wild prophet's words truly meant.

Previously, I had explained Phenix in the vaguest of terms, forcing myself to use the past tense whenever I spoke, as then I believed him dead and had to accept it.

I explained to him in the most simplistic of terms that Phenix had lived during the Age of Turmoil, that towards its end a being took him away from the world, though it was never truly clear if he died.

I explained that now I knew that Phenix had died then, his years spent as a being similar to his 'kidnapper', until the Shattering, when the being returned him to Norrath - when the being shaped the energies escaping Luclin into the form of a Phoenix so those who knew what to look for knew that he had been reborn.

But it is impossible for him to return a second time - he has to be dead, and the being who gave him another life is long gone, there is no one to bring him back. I said these things to Kacer, and we discussed again what this girl had told him, and it became clear she was touched by the hand of Vazaelle.

Our determination was that she was seeing the past, and the present, and confusing them into one prophecy due to her insanity. We assured each other that we were fine, that Kacer was in no danger...that Phenix could not return from the dead.

It was then that Kacer made it appearant to me that he had not slept hardly at all in the past week. Having already come to have an attraction to him, being trained as a healer at the Temple, I could not do anything but care for his self inflicted injury.

There wasn't any sort of spare bed in my Library, so I took him next door to Phenix's apartment - there was a guest alcove there, where I used to sleep until the night I met Brodis. I thought he could sleep there for the night, and I knew Phenix had the herbs I needed to heal him.

He had been using some sort of elixer to keep himself awake, and so I purged his body of all its toxins...such a simple spell to me now. Once I had finished the spell and was sure it was working, I made him a tea that would help put him to sleep and keep him asleep for some time while his body recovered.

When I came around the counter to watch him, to make sure he drank all of the tea, Kacer grasped my hand again, and I suddenly found myself unable to speak clearly. In a moment of silence, he leaned forward and gently kissed me...I'd never been kissed before...its so wonderful.

It made me dizzy, lightheaded and giddy. I wanted to just fall into his arms, but at the same time, I felt almost guilty.

Of course, he noticed how flustered I was when he pulled away, and I had to explain to him that I had never been kissed, that even though Phenix and I had been close he had never even tried to kiss me. Kacer's response only further flustered me, as he could not fathom how any would not kiss someone as 'exotic' as me.

I was so nervous, I had to retreat to the backroom...Phenix' bedroom. As i lay in his bed, I realised that perhaps it was too soon to have allowed another man into what had once been his home...but how long does one have to be afraid of upsetting the dead?

Story: A Path of Changes and Broken Stones

2009-04-06T17:10:00.000-07:00

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.

Windday, the 11th of Blossoming, 3725

2009-04-06T17:09:00.001-07:00

Enough is enough.

Despite there being an end in sight, I cannot continue to aid the Temple heal the sick, fight this plague that refuses to leave the bodies of all on Norrath. The work is thankless, it is tiring, it is heartbreaking and there is no longer solace in the power of healing.

An on top of that, my mentor is demanding I concentrate more on my studies – he is angry with the pathetic list of illusions I can barely handle, saying he knows I could do so much more. I loathe being in my own place, as I know he can watch what transpires here through the stones we have – someday I am going to break his into dust for doing so. Far to demanding and far to detached from Norrath to realize how impossible it is to not tend to other things first.

Like the score to a play, beneath it all, Norrath has been weeping, causing the elements to swell with pain and suffering as this pestilence shrouds the land. It has grown stronger, barely lessening when the strange vampires were quelled by T`Haen’s death.

Where once there was just whispering, now there is screaming yet still the sounds are too indistinct, too distant to be understood clearly. They echo within my mind so loudly sometimes that I can no longer think coherently for long – even in sleep I still hear them.

It is all too much.

And so it is time to go back to where they were clear…

Feastday, the 9th of Weeping, 3725

2009-04-06T17:08:00.002-07:00

I find it ironic that these things are all transpiring within the month of Weeping. So fitting, in so many different cases. Perhaps the month is cursed and thus named for the sorrow it brought in times past.

Beyond my own personal struggles, Norrath has been stricken by first unruly vampires and now a plague. Over the few short days since it was discovered, more and more beings become infected with it - both living and undead it seems.

I've had to cure several people of their ailments as I've travelled, and even many in town. The Temple has become overrun with citizens that are ill from this disease, some of which we have been unable to cure. As a more combative priestess, I intend to investigate this matter further - thusfar I've been spared any sort of permanent damage from it.

Nature...Norrath is screaming in pain as so many of its children fall to this devistation. Sometimes when I am not working with the ill or adventuring, it becomes to overwhelming for me to handle, as if the entirety of my reality stops and becomes nothing but the sound and sensation of it.

I fear how life would be were I able to understand Norrath as crystal clear as that night Brodis revealed it to me.

Sadly, my mentor has become paranoid, and is loathe to leave his home now. When I venture there, I must heal myself of any ailments that I can, regardless of whether I am exhibiting symptoms before he will allow me inside.

Despite these setbacks, I've mastered the first trick he has set out to teach me - I've been able to disguise myself through magic as a Feir`Dal several times, though it is a small drain initially to do so. Even after working such into a foci to aid the casting, I'm rather at a loss for several long minutes. Hopefully as time passes I shall become better with these parlor tricks, at least enough to not feel dizzy.

With the plague about, it's become rather difficult to gather things needed to learn the arts of writing magic, and it looks to be a slower and longer road than I originally suspected.

There is much happening in my once simple life. So many things keep manifesting since that eve on the beach in Nektulos, this deep connection with the world so much sharper than what it was when I was just another Temple taught Fury.

Last eve, I was quite distracted by Norrath's weeping, sitting alone in the Raven with a glass of fayberry margarita to dull the sounds; I was not paying attention to my physical state, until a young woman named Meygan came into the tavern and drew my attention to it.

I was trying to understand what the flames were saying from their place in the hearth when she pointed out to me that I'd called up my absinthe-hued flames, and that I was somehow bending the hearthfire to do as my hand was. Realisation sat in, and it came to me that the strange conversation between myself and the flames was learning to do that - to sense the connection between the two of us, and learn how to use it for more than moment of distruction.

The chilling wind that seems to be a second cloak about me now is similiar, and after my discovery with the heartfire, I realised that it was merely an effect of my connection to the air and the unconsious use of that.

But, there are more vicitims needing to be treated, and a cure needing to be discovered - my time would be better spent concentrating on that than it is rambling in this little book. Amazing how talkative one becomes when one is without their confidant...

Brewday, the 8th of Weeping 3725

2009-04-06T17:08:00.001-07:00

A little over two days ago, I finally confronted Brodis. I cannot honestly say that I summoned him, as I was using a book on Infernal Pacts over a book on Elemental Summoning - it did catch his attention though, and even though his innervention caused a very severe magical backlash that melted some of the sand into glass, it was the first thing to tip me off that he was not actually a demon.

We had a very long discussion, that ranged from disturbing to angering to rather calming; I believe in some respects the two of us learned quite a bit more about one another that anyone aside from Phenix could claim to know.

There are reprocussions to meeting with a being such as Brodis, though they are not what others would impress them upon me to be - yet, perhaps. I do not wish to limit myself by stating that their assumptions do not hold any possible truth, however I find them far fetched.

Mostly, I am left hearing Nature clearly...and since he allowed me to hear Norrath during our talk, I can faintly hear the whispers of our planet beneath the cacophony of Nature. I find it hard to remain completely focused on the more material world now, and my control over various natural elements has grown in leaps and bounds.

Sometimes, I can almost make out the words, and I alway wonder if perhaps Brodis is near by again, waiting for me to understand what is being told - Norrath had said I did not listen and did not know several times that eve...perhaps someday I will.

During part of our confrontation, I believe I became what a Fury truly is, in it most simple and basic form. Perhaps it is a more convoluted perspective, tinged by what Brodis shared with me, but I find it more natural than anything before now.

Now a constant wind surrounds me, colder than that of the air about wherever I am at; it remains placid when I am calm or detatched, and gains strength when I am empassioned. It stays very close to me unless I set it loose upon someone or someplace, and almost seems like a cloak at times.

Other elements are manifesting as well, as that strange absinthe coloured flame I can summon has become like breathing, while a gentle rain falls nearby when tears are spilled from my eyes. The earth has emparted me some strength more than it did before, and both light and shadow have begun to manifest as well.

I suppose the most relieving part of our conversation was to learn why Brodis has done this last trick to Phenix, and while others perhaps will never believe that he did so out of a deep and binding love, I experienced that sensation, and know that Brodis was telling the truth when he explained that his only intention was to give Phenix a chance at the life they'd both lost in the past.

That sensation still lingers, haunting me. Somehow it has bound me up in whatever entwines them, perhaps only in the desire to have that sensation from them...with them myself.

Of course, knowing this, I know feel guilty for trying to find the answers to the vague memories he experienced after Latharos spoke to us in Stormhold that day, however I feel if we avoid such things and people from now on - until after he's had a chance to experience the things Brodis desired for him to, without limitation - what damage has been done can be healed.

Eventually, there will come a time when it is right for Phenix to know what has transpired in his past and on the night I spoke to Brodis; his Father created another tattoo after expanding upon the ones I already had with his power and told me that if I wished to know Phenix' past, I would just have to read what was written on my arm.

Conveniently, there are no books within the Concordium nor the Tower of Arcane Sciences that contain the language that was used on the band - I am beginning to believe there is no book on Norrath that containes the answer, and that someday I shall just look at it and Brodis will reveal it to me.

Phenix knows none of this, and will know very little once he returns - he unfortunately was setting off again on the King's Fury, and unfortunately was given no idea of how long it would be before they returned. At first this did nothing more than upset me, however I keep hearing whispers within Nature that unsettle me, as if they are trying to warn me that he is in danger or that something has happened to him.

I am left to struggle with these things alone, and even some of them I could not share with Phenix in the first place - Brodis warned me that if Phenix knew what I was, then I could not keep him. I believe it has something to do with his name for me - Darkfae - though I do not understand why Phenix would despise a faekin when he was once so close to Diera.

Vahhn was brought into the realisation that I had spoken to Brodis, and he became very narrow-minded about the situation fairly quickly. He seemed to almost demand I keep my presense away from him, as he believed my ties to Brodis would cause him to know where Vahhn was and allow him to extract revenge for the "protection" of Areanna so long ago by taking away his most dearest desire right now.

Sadly, he was to set in his beliefs that he had been given years ago to even really fathom the idea that perhaps Brodis was not the fiend they believed him to be, and that he had no use for revenge against anyone from that time.

I suspect that Duvessa somehow knows something of this, as she seemed to almost accuse me of setting the plague that has begun to appear on Norrath. I know that she is a long lived being that may or may not have had ties to these Shadow Striders and Wind Runners that Phenix was a part of, and I am beginning to suspect she has found out of my encounter with Brodis.

More and more faces from the past are turning up at the Raven, Mythic. Perhaps they are drawn there by Duvessa's presence, seeking out others they once knew; perhaps it is just a coincidence that they keep working themselves out from the woodworks. Either way, I think it would be best to remain away from the Raven once Phenix returns, as I suspect that despite his young appearance, others will easily recongnise him as Latharos did.

I would like to, from now on, further Brodis' intentions if possible. While I am beginning to question if I was perhaps wrong about how things were between Phenix and I...I cannot quite say I can give to him the happiness his Father so desperately desires for him - but I will try to grant him every whim and desire he ever expresses.

For now, I shall concentrate on my studies of Nature and Norrath, and learn what I can from my mentor while I begin to gather an Order about me. Our library is done, and my mentor has state he has found those he thinks I will agree belong with us. Slowly, over time, it shall no longer need such direct innervention, as it has already started drawing attention on its own.

To keep me company, my mentor has given me a nightflyer named Oebalus. The creature is highly intelligent, and quite a bit older than the baby dragon we keep, and seems to understand a lot more subtle nuances of our language and general being. The stray of his sister and the dragon sleep up on the bed with me, but after a few nights ago, it is not comfort enough.

Hopefully Phenix returns home soon, unharmed...

Story: How to Summon a Nature Spirit

2009-04-06T17:04:00.000-07:00

The day had started early for Avaria. After having created a confrontation between Diera and Phenix, she felt it would be best to gather any answers to whatever questions he may have now. She'd had everything she'd needed for the past few days, however Phenix had been in port the entire time and had decided that they would spend a great deal of time together while he was - more so than usual even.

Quietly, she slipped through the door of his room and out into the hallway. She'd been lucky to procure the room next to his, and was in the process of building a large library there; there was also a bedroom in the apartment, however she hadn't informed Phenix of the fact she had bought her own bed, sleeping instead on the extra bed he had. Just as quietly as she'd left his apartment, she entered her own.

She gathered together the things she had steadily been collecting since Diera had told her about Brodis - a silver bell, a book of Infernal Pacts, the shroud she'd stolen from an extravagant tomb in the Crypts below Qeynos, and candles...the stone vial of demon blood had been hidden in the folds of her robes for weeks, practically burning against her skin. That she carefully slipped into the black, silver and red robes her mentor had given her shortly after they'd met.

For a moment she stood beside her desk, a rather elegant piece of work set into the large bay window. Suspended between an odd golden crescent atop a gold and wooden stand was a translucent blue orb; it looked quite a bit like the Erudin Warding globes, only smaller, and seemed to generate its own prismatic light that created a rainbow beneath the entire piece. From a distance, the rainbow was faint and the stone appeared to be a Greater Lightstone, however it was not truly so.

Mysterious as always, her mentor had given her an orb he called the Petra Mnemoi, claiming it had all the oracular abilities of a scrying stone and the ability to preserve thought. He had said that it was dangerous if she were not careful, and taught her to use the stone; it was sentient to a certain degree, and craved thoughts like a vampire craved blood but like a vampire, one could coerce it into safer arrangements.

He had suggested she use the stone on Brodis, however, as she had studied and recalled many things about demons, she found the stone unnecessary - when summoned within a circle of power, a demon was controlled by the one who summoned him by name there. He would be required to answer her questions, and do whatever she demanded which meant the orb would not be needed to transport the memories back to Phenix - Brodis would be made to replace them himself.

It was hours from dark, barely even mid-afternoon when she had awakened, and gathering everything into the pack had not taken very long. Looking around the room, she decided that she would purchase a few more things to make the place feel a little more complete.

Stepping through the prismatic barrier of energy that separated the front room of the apartment from the back bedroom, she began to slip out of the plain white tunic and leggings she wore to sleep in. She unfolded her work clothing quickly, the tradesmen clothing more comfortable and practical for working in, despite the fact that the shirt barely reached far below her chest.

A few hours later, she moved the last of the bookcases into her room and began to push them into the corners near the levitated desks. She finished settling the first one, placing many books upon its shelves before beginning to move the second one; by the time she'd gotten it over to the place she wanted it to be, Phenix had slipped in the door soundlessly, watching her move and adjust the case several times before she finally stepped away from it.

Turning, she looked shocked to see him waiting quietly for her, and she exclaimed, "Oh! Phenix..."

Smirking at her, he watched her eyes drop down to look at her clothing. Despite having her sleep in his home every night, the work clothing was the most revealing thing he'd ever seen her in. She realised such, and blushed deeply as he looked her over, only glancing at her projects.

"I didn't hear you come in...that book case makes quite a noise when you move it around..." she said shyly, a hand motioning behind her before she crossed both arms over her midsection.

"That's all right, I guess." he replied, finally looking over her shoulder for a moment. "I tend to be a quiet one as it is..."

"So what do you think of my little library so far?" she asked, smirking at him even though her cheeks were still touched with pink.

"It's coming along nicely... better than my library..." he replied, looking around the room as she walked to the lower shelves to rearrange a few books.

She gave a small laugh as she placed a few of the larger books on top of the shelves before turning around to stare at him, blinking with a surprised look as his words settled into her mind.

"You have a library?" she asked innocently, truly surprised by the statement.

"Sort of... not really a library yet.... just a bookcase with some books..." he replied, feeling a slight blush of his own begin.

Again she blinked, surprised, but she smiled before turning around to finish arranging the books. Once she was finished, she turned around to look at him, brushing a few stray wisps of her hair away from her face.

"No offense, Phenix, but I didn't know you had an interest in reading," she finally admitted, "I didn't think pirates like that sort of thing..."

"Well, most pirates don't," he explained casually, "I tend to get the books that the others plunder..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Phenix looked downward. It occurred to him that with one statement, he'd revealed more about his trips to sea than he had in the past few months of knowing Avaria. For some reason, the words struck him as almost...wrong, as though he were listening to himself through the ears of another person for a moment.

"What?" Avaria asked, a little shocked that he suddenly looked guilty.

"That doesn't sound like something I should be telling people..." he finally replied.

She stared at him for a moment, almost laughing at him. It was amazing how comfortable the two of them had gotten with each other, and watching it suddenly be confronted was almost amusing to her. Smirking at him, she crossed her arms once more, covering her bare stomach.

"I'm not people - I won't tell anyone," she responded.

"Anyways," he continued, looking back up at her, "I've always had a passion for learning. I was taught to read from this girl... years back. I just kept going with it..."

Smiling at him, she motioned at the various books scattered around the room and on the shelves. There were quite a number of common books to be read, including a few poetry books, along with the rare finds they'd recovered and restored together.

"Feel free to read anything I recover," she paused for a moment before adding, "You help me get them restored to begin with..."

"You got it," he replied, that familiar smirk coming back to his lips. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said as she looked down again, blushing once more as she realised how revealing her work clothing was. Phenix followed her eyes, and noticed a pack that was sitting behind her, next to the lower shelves. It was stuffed full, and he wondered if she had found another tome to restore or some strange item of legend to chase after.

"Wow...that's a lot of stuff," he pointed down to the pack, smiling. "We headed somewhere?"

Her reaction was unexpected, as she blinked at him and reached down for the pack. Avaria had forgotten that she'd left it there after putting the book into it, and suddenly was at a loss for words - she couldn't tell him the truth, but she hated lying to him about anything.

"Oh..." she began, "I...well, yes..."

"Well... yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her as she suddenly hugged the pack to her chest.

"I..." she said, feeling the rough cloth of the pack against her skin, again drawn to the fact she wasn't wearing as much as she probably should be, "Can you give me a moment....I want to get out of these clothes.."

Blushing, she walked past him, her arm brushing against his shoulder as she headed towards the door to her room. As she stepped through the doorway and vanished from sight, the prismatic barrier glimmered and shook, a few wisps of magical energy trailing from her form as she walked deeper into the room.

"Oh! Of course..." Phenix said, watching her as she vanished before turning back to the many books in the room.

Quickly, she stripped off her work clothing, pulling on her new set of woven cuirboilli leathers. The brilliant green armour was light and resonated with the power of Nature, and caused her skin to seem slightly paler while her hair seemed more like fire. It was trimmed in gold, so her silver eyes stood out even more than usual.

However, she was headed somewhere she would have to hide the blatant armour of Nature. Moving quietly to her dresser, she pulled out folds of dark fabric and shook out the thick woven cloth robe. Her mentor had given it to her, after she had taken his sister to the Temple to be cared for, stating that any time she come for her lessons, she would need to disguise herself as someone from Freeport. Though she did not plan to journey into the Commonlands at all, she knew she would be safer in Nektulos if she were hidden behind the cowl of black, burgundy and silver.

"And yes, I'm going somewhere, but I can't take you with me," she called to him as she threw the robe over her leathers. "Promise me you're not going to do anything gallant like try and follow..."

In the front room, Phenix rose from reading the titles of the many books. Hearing her words, he turned and looked at the doorway with a surprised expression; since the second time they'd met, the two had gone everywhere together aside from when his ship set out of port. Never had either of them asked the other to remain behind for something less than that, and warning bells sounded in his mind.

"I... shouldn't follow?" the stunned Phenix asked, "You want me to promise what?"

She carefully adjusted the robes she'd put on, taking a few things from the pack and pinning them to the fabric. They were small charms of magic she had gotten from the mages in the Concordium, and would provide better protection against the fire and brimstone demons were said to wield. One of them was a small sigil she had created herself, one that she remembered from her dreams, and it was faintly wreathed in the strange green fires she could call up.

Turning from her mirror, she said, "I said don't follow me, Phenix. Not after I leave here..."

When no reply came, she walked across the room and to the doorway, looking out at him before crossing the prismatic barrier again. The multicoloured wisps of energy tumbled off her figure like smoke, and she became visible to him once more. His eyes widened at the darkened robes, and again he wondered how far he'd taken her from the Light most Qeynosians believed in. His was a shady lifestyle, one that could possibly get them both arrested or worse if it were ever known and proven, and recently he was beginning to think all of his dark habits were rubbing off on Avaria.

"Phenix...?" she asked, looking at him with concern.

Her voice pulling his mind back to the present situation, he crossed his arms, clearly unhappy with her demands. While he understood her powerful connection to Nature, he instinctually felt it necessary to guard her; she could call down the lightning from the heavens, but a single good cut from a sword could kill her. He didn't like that idea, and it only burned brighter in his mind when she asked him to remain behind. With a sigh, she leaned against the doorframe, crossing her dark-clad arms in frustration.

"Please, Phen...don't follow me. I promise I'll be back in a few hours," she begged.

"Well, if you want," he sighed, looking at her worriedly, "I guess I could remain back here. How long you going to be gone for?"

"Just a few hours, I think, if everything goes well," she said, pausing suddenly. Her voice was soft when she finally added, "If not...."

Her sentence trailed off into silence as she looked down. The hairs on the back of Phenix' neck rose in panic, as he realised that whatever she was doing would possibly put her in the kind of situation he didn't want to see. The robe was from Freeport, that much he did know, and his mind began to race, searching for reasons she might have to venture there without him.

Swallowing, he repeated, "If not...?"

Still looking down, Avaria practically whispered, "Then I might not be coming back..."

"I see..." was all he said.

He had been right about the situation, and now had confirmation that she would be in some sort of danger where she went, making him even less comfortable with her demand that he stay in Qeynos. She looked up at him, and he stared into her silver eyes, his own dark eyes reflecting his stubborn refusal; he had felt bad enough for getting separated from her the evening before, while they were assisting Diera D`Narin in the Thundering Steppes - he would feel even worse if something happened to her that he might have been able to stop.

"And you think I'm going to stay here," he growled under his breath, crossing his arms tighter against each other.

"Phenix," she sighed, her voice echoing her frustration, "Don't make me - don't make me keep you here. Please, just promise me you aren't going to follow me."

"Make you...?" he asked, thinking he was calling her bluff, "You have some way to stop me if I refuse?"

"Stop you...to a point yes. Long enough to be far from Qeynos when you recover the ability to move," she replied.

He suddenly recalled the lattice works of ice she would summon around her wine glass each time they shared a drink, and memories of slow moving enemies covered in thick ice chased after that thought. It was clear that it was not something she wished to do to him, as the chilling ice caused painful lacerations on the skin as it broke apart, and she'd already told him several times she never wanted to hurt him. Part of him believed she wouldn't be able to do it, while the other part disliked the idea of forcing her to.

"Will anyone else be going with you...?" he asked, searching for at least some hope that he might not have to.

Avaria shook her head, looking downward as he remained silent. She was surprised he was so upset by her actions, but she knew that she would react no different if he were doing this to her. It made her question their situation again, but she quickly pushed any thoughts that followed from her mind - she had to concentrate on what she was doing if she wanted to make it back to Qeynos.

"I can't promise you anything then," he said, slowly walking towards the door. His dark blue clothing remained silent as he moved, and she wondered if he would somehow follow her undetected.

"Damnit Phenix," she sighed, pushing herself away from the doorframe.

"What? I'm supposed to let you possibly get yourself killed?!" he yelled suddenly, turning to look at her. The whole situation unnerved him, and forced him to confront a lot of things he had been trying not to think about, and finally he let go of any reserve he had.

"Yes!" she yelled back at him, as if he should be okay with everything.

For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence.

Phenix looked at the woman he spent his time in Qeynos with, angry that she thought he would just let her run off to her death without any sort of intervention. Since the second time they'd met, he hadn't wanted to spend time with anyone else, even though the brothel mistress tried desperately to win back his coins - he had stopped desiring the familiar one-night stands, suddenly finding them empty pleasures. Though there were downsides to their adventures, he'd found more in them than he had imagined possible and the thought of never experiencing that with her again struck a deep chord within him.

Avaria was confused by his outburst, having made herself believe that there was nothing between them and that he didn't have any sort of feelings for her...just like her mentor had told her. She'd believed that she was just someone that allowed him to accomplish whatever plans he had while in Qeynos, and someone to share a drink with after a long day of fighting. Now she again found herself questioning their situation, fighting to push the thoughts away and focus on what lay ahead.

"Phenix, it's even more dangerous for me if you're there," she pleaded, breaking the silence, "please..."

Her words caused him even more alarm, and he instantly disbelieved them, thinking it just another attempt to keep him from following her.

"How the hell is that possible?" he spat, "You're not making sense, Avi..."

"No, of course I'm not. And I won't," she replied, recalling all the times he'd say the same thing to her, when she tried to prove to him he was Stormryder. "Just believe me, if you're there then it becomes even more dangerous for both of us."

"I can handle myself," he retorted, crossing his arms again before adding, "And I've done a pretty damn good job of keeping you alive..."

"Phenix, please!" she begged desperately, "You don't know how horrible things will become if you follow! Please..."

She sighed, and pushed back a few wisps of hair as she looked at Phenix, clearly frustrated. His desperation was showing as well, his face contorted with sadness and frustration as he looked back at her.

"Avi... why do you have to do this," he said, his eyes searching hers for answers, before he raised a hand and motioned to her, "Whatever THIS is...."

There was a long silence before she whispered, "I'm doing this for you..."

"Not possible," he frantically replied, taking a step towards her, "There's nothing on this planet I'd want you to do that would involve dieing for me."

"Phenix...this isn't something you've asked me to do," she sighed, her voice shy, "And while you may not want me to do it...I'm going to...because I care about you."

"If you cared about me...you wouldn't do this," he retorted, taking a step back and opening the door.

"....don't say that..." she whispered, watching him with frightened eyes.

"...do what you must..." he said, stepping through the door, "I promise you I won't follow."

The sound of the door shutting echoed through the apartment, and Avaria felt the first tears begin to slip down her cheek. For several minutes, she paced through the library, continually telling herself that what she was doing was the right thing. Avaria fought to keep herself from thinking about what his reaction could mean, trying to think only about the ritual she would be performing soon.

The tiny crystal at her throat pulsated, a calming force coming through it and washing over her. She could almost hear her mentor's voice in her mind, reminding her how dangerous it was for him to not know who he was, reminding her of the faceless beings in Freeport who could potentially be his enemies from the past.

Her resolve returning, she went into the bedroom and gathered up the pack before calling forth the spirit of the wolves to hasten her trip to Nektulos Forest.

Avaria set the pack down beside her, carefully opening the bag. She pulled out a bundle of cloth, a book, a small silver bell and several candles, setting them all out beside her. She then called up the bright green flames, allowing them to frame her hands. Their heat was low, and unable to burn anything. After a moment, she carefully picked up the cloth, opening it up slowly while chanting quietly.

Laying the death shroud out on the ground before her, the green flames raced along its edges. Her chant remained quiet, her eyes half closed as she spoke words she barely remembered. Raising a fire-wreathed hand to her pocket, she pulled out a large stone vial that had been hidden for several days. Her chanting grew louder as she opened the vial and began to paint archaic runes on the cloth. Avaria formed an elaborate pattern of both magic and dark runes, woven with some sort of star symbols and other strange shapes.

Closing the vile, she began to pick up the candles, moving them onto specific sigils. Once they were all in place, she picked up book and placed it at the edge of the design before taking the bell and stepping forward onto the cloth once more. She opened the vial, and began walking in a circle around the drawing. Blood and green flames fall as she walked, the two making a circle along the cloth. When she reached the starting point, her chant changed, and the fire and blood sealed the circle.

As the circle finished, she got the feeling that something was watching her. She didn't sense anything out there, other than the sound of the small waves crashing, and the crabs as they skitter across the land, but she was almost positive she wasn't alone anymore. Taking the book, she opened its pages. Writhing shadows danced across the pages as she stood near the center of her drawings, pouring the last of the blood there before calling lightning down to light each candle in turn as she reads from the book, the only human word a single name - Brodis.

She felt a hand touch her on the shoulder, yet she found nothing there. The sounds of souls whispered into her thoughts every so often as she continued the ritual. From the thoughts, she was able to make out one, able to discern it from all the others. She stiffened, slightly unnerved by a sudden ethereal touch, but continued to read from the book. She could feel the power that resided in it, but did not realize it was unlike anything she'd ever known. Soon visions of different hues of light begin to seep into her sight, blurring out some words in her book; Avaria shook her head slightly, blinking several times as she tried to continue the spell. The tone of her voice changed from confident to nervous, snatched away by the growing wind.

From the words that were blurred, letters in ancient Combine began to form - as they appeared, they began to skitter across the pages, as if dozens of cockroaches were fleeing from an impending light. She blinked, trying to speak the newer words, the language very unfamiliar to her while the swarming of the letters made her slightly dizzy, and for a split second she wondered if Phenix had been right.

As if reading her very feelings, the letters began to create a blur themselves, as if they were feeding on the fear that was bleeding from her heart. Then, the letters stopped, the speed of them slowly became synchronous with her heartbeat the next time she said HIS name. She continued to move her mouth, but all sound slowly stopped. She stared down at the page, terrified suddenly as she realised it could hear her thoughts.

"Brodis?" she whispered.

Slowly, the letters began to form a word, and changed shape. She realised the words were all different symbols, but said the same thing over and over again, in a few languages she understood, Feir`Dal being one of them with the common tongue being the last - the word, she realised, said "Interesting...".

"Interesting?" she asked, blinking slightly as she read it aloud. Again, the word "Interesting..." appeared on the pages.

The book suddenly flipped out of Avaria's hand, pages flying all about as it began to take erratic flight, leaving a trail of green fire behind it. It reminded her of something, and she took half a step forward after the book before she stopped to watch it flit about wildly as she realised it reminded her of a firefly. Beneath her, the green fire began to consume the shroud, scorching the sand beneath it; each candle created a small burst of bright green flame, and the edges of her robe became blackened by it's power. The spell was broken, interrupted by the sudden shift in languages and the power controlling the book, and she could feel the effects of the backlash as she watched the makeshift firefly.

The feeling that grabbed her shoulder, that hand that stopped her from taking another step; she felt a pressure and realised that it was trying to turn her. As she looked down at her shoulder, still slightly disoriented from the backlash, she turned her body the direction the force demanded. Standing practically on top of her was the animated corpse of an Ogre, his hand lifted as though it controlled the power that had turned her. In panic, Avaria began to scream.

The Ogre quickly placed his giant hand against Avaria's mouth, practically smothering her in the process. She reached up, flame wreathed hands clawing at his in fear. Her silver eyes were made dull by the silver of her gown, but they were wild with terror as she stared at the undead corpse that held her.

Huge, pale, ghastly with the smell of death drifting about him, the Ogre was hidden beneath a giant holocaust cloak, its hood drawn over its head. She wondered how she could have missed his approach as she looked up at him, terrified. He was a ghastly, hooded being that was maggot-ridden under his face, contorting the very flesh as he looked upon her. Even though his face dripped a little white maggot every so often, she could not take her eyes off his...they were silver, like her own. Fear and shock entwined as she stared up at him, and Avaria wondered why he had to have eyes like her own.

The Ogre's free hand grabbed Avaria so fast, she heard the muscles pop in her neck as he pulled her toward him. Her eyes widened in panic as he smiled at her and began to sniff her hair, face and shoulder; after what seemed like an eternity, he finally let go of the Koada`Dal and stood up straight. She was unsteady on her feet, and incredibly tiny before him, but she still looked up into his eyes, despite her desire to look away from his horrid appearance.

"Gods..." he finally breathed, looking up into the air before an evil grin crossed his face as he looked back down at her, "...how I've missed that smell...."

"W-what smell," she asked, confused but afraid he might mean living flesh.

Laughing, the Ogre replied, "His scent! His sweat...his desire..."

The word desire struck her, piercing her terror as she remembered Phenix' outburst before she had left. Looking up at the monster before her, she suddenly wished she had said more to him before he had stormed out - she feared that she never would see him again.

"You know my son," the Ogre rumbled, staring down at the tiny woman in front of him.

Avaria blinked, shocked by what was going on and somehow disbelieving what's happened. It slowly dawned on her that she did successfully summon Brodis back to Norrath from whatever hell he came from, but she also realised that she had no power over him - the spell had failed, and she was left without any protection or control. The rush of the ritual had made her feel amazingly powerful, even when it raged out of control she still felt as though she had become something more, but now when faced with Brodis, she felt small and insignificant.

Brodis was the one in control, and from the energy that radiated from the corpse before her, she realised how powerful he truly was - that Phenix had been right about what she was dealing with.

"Ph-phenix," she stammered.

Brodis cocked his head to one side, smiling at her as he asked, "Where is he...?"

"I made him stay in Qeynos," she replied, anger rising within her as she thought of why she had to leave him behind. "Because he doesn't remember everything nor believe what I've proven to him."

Brodis chuckled, and she realised that the wind blew, as if responding to Brodis, laughing because he does. The feeling that there might actually be more people around suddenly entered her mind and she blinked, her anger losing edge to self-consciousness. The wind whispered, and Avaria suddenly realised she could understand the hisses of the wind, as it blew through the trees, relaying their words.

"And..." Brodis snickered.

Every question, every theory came racing through her mind as she tried to find a starting place. Despite the horrid appearance of his body, the power radiating from Brodis was overwhelming to her, and his silver eyes disconcerting. She wasn't sure what to say, feeling like the child called to the front of the class to answer a question they didn't know.

"And what have you proven to him," he growled, the trees hissing at her once more.

"Th-that he was - is Phenix Stormryder. The brother of Raenewae," she began, the rest of the sentence growled, "Devoted lover and protector of Areanna Imshee`Cro..."

Pausing to take a breath, somehow summoning up the utter calm once more, she finishes, "...the man he was before you took it from him."

A wave, bigger than any she had witnessed at this beach before, banked along the shore. The water seeped into the sand, and she heard what the ocean has to say as the water was absorbed.

"She knows too much!" a feminine voice screamed through the sand and waves.

Brodis looked to the sea a moment, and smirked as Avaria blinked; everything Diera, Latharos and Vahhn had ever said raced through her mind. She wondered what truths she knew that Brodis would rather she not, and wondered if he would kill her for trying to find out who Phenix had been before.

"Is she right, Avaria?" Brodis queried, grinning evilly down at the woman, "Do you know too much?"

Again, she thought that he might kill her, and quietly she gathered the last bit of dignity and pride she had. The Darkflight instincts within her began to take over as she recalled the dangerous game from so long ago. Straightening her shoulders, she continued to stare up at the corpse defiantly - it was a gamble, but she hoped that by entering a game of words with him, she might be able to find out what she wanted to know and make it out alive.

"I...don't know. I've learned a lot about Phenix as he was back in the Age of Turmoil," she began, her voice quite but with a definite edge, "Of what you did to him and his family...and I know you brought him here now, as the man I know..."

Quiet, Brodis looked out to the ocean again, and inhaled deeply, a few maggots falling from the slit in the body's throat. Avaria was clearly disgusted by the state of his host body, but her eyes remain on his as best they can.

"That's an awful lot," he replied.

"Kill her!" the ocean screamed, slamming another large wave onto the shores. Avaria blinked slightly as she heard the phantom words in the water, but she expected that this might end in her death. Brodis the acceptance within her, finding that she was willing to die trying to help Phenix before she even voiced her thoughts.

"It is better to find the truth for him than watch him suffer," she replied, a fire-wreathed hand smoothing out the soot-covered robes she wore.

The wind blew against her hair, almost unraveling it. Several large strands fell from the clasp, and the wind began to caress her neck with them and she could almost feel the curiosity of its touch.

"Wait," a whisper rustled through the trees.

Looking up at the tree, Brodis rested his hand against it. Again the wind began to blow about Avaria, tugging at her hair, caressing her ears and sweeping at her robes. She stood still as the wind swirled about her, the touch of Nature calming her, the feeling of the wind against her back almost natural; her hands remained slightly to her sides, even though the wind tugged the hem of her robes upward. The bright green of her leathers became visible, and he could see it is almost the same shade as the neon fires that burn about her hands.

"She's not what she seems," the tree rustled.

Taken by surprise, Avaria blinked in disbelief as she watched Brodis, but as she regained her composure, she merely shrugged slightly to him.

"No, she's not..." he growled, glaring at the woman.

"I'm like Phenix...past a certain point, no one knows who I am...and I don't want him to feel like I have," she responded, "That's all. I'm no different from any other friend."

"And she does not know," the ocean murmured, a small series of waves gently crashing against the shore.

Brodis pondered the woman before him. Her connection to Nature was palpable, but he realised that she did not associate it with any God - she could see Nature for the force it was before Tunare had taken control of that power. In fact, her soul burned with the light of another Nature Spirit, a dark one at that; his mind turned over the many different creatures he had encountered in his eons on Norrath, and he realised she burned with the light of the Darkflight Faeries, though it was not as dark as it should be.

"Interesting..." he murmured.

"Nature is quite talkative...I'm sure whatever it is," she smirked, "it won't take long to hear it..."

He continued to smile at her, the large fangs that protruded from his lower jaw visible, but he remained silent for quite some time. Her thoughts were an open book to him, like the one that still fluttered beside them as a strange firefly, and he could read that she barely knew anything of what she was. Seeing an opportunity, he seized it with all the passion he had felt long ago.

"What is it you want, Darkfae..." Brodis rumbled, eyes still staring down into Avaria's.

"...Darkfae...?" she questioned, blinking up at him.

With a voice that pierced both her ears and her mind, Brodis bellowed, "What is it you want, Darkfae!"

"Two things...well," she replied, cringing from the lash of power released, "one really."

"Kill her!" the ocean suddenly screamed, a wave crashing heavily against the shore, much closer than the first few waves had been.

Ignoring the ocean and its malice, Avaria said, "I want you to return his memories to him before the lack of them gets him killed or worse...and make it known to him why you've done this to him at all."

Looking up at Brodis, thinking about the way Phenix would act when confronted with things he barely remembered, her anger surged and took control of her. The burning passion of rage flicked across her silver eyes, causing small and almost indistinguishable flecks of red to dance over them. For a fleeting moment, Avaria wished she were powerful enough to beat him into oblivion.

"And why would I want to do that...?" he snarled, crossing his arms...standing just like Phenix.

"Brodis, why did you do this to him? Did it not occur to you that he would possibly meet those that knew him?" she snarled back, flame-wreathed hands clenching as she leaned forward, "Be slowly driven mad by these confrontations? That his enemies might live and kill him now?"

Raising a hand, she pointed at him accusingly as she growled, “Or was that the idea? Leave him here to flounder lost and unable to protect himself?"

Brodis grinned at watching this darker side of Avaria slip into view, amused by how passionate the woman was when she released that cold and distant demeanor. However, her next words were like a slap to the face...

"So you could watch from the shadows as he was ripped apart by your actions!" she yelled at him.

Her hair had all but completely fallen from its clasps, and fell about her face and shoulders as she raged at him. The fiery auburn hair was streaked with black, deep blues and dark greens and she suddenly defined the word Fury as the winds about her pushed back her robes. Brodis raised an eyebrow at her as he found all thought of her own safety was lost in her protective rage for his son.

Brodis furrowed his brow as he stared at her, and she began to feel pressure build in her mind, as if the weight of the world was suddenly inside her skull.

"Or maybe you did it to make Areanna and Telian suffer more, so you could gleefully watch them when they find him..." she screamed, her words trailing off as the pressure hit her in force. Trembling, she reached a hand up to her forehead and began to double over on herself, the winds dying around her quickly.

"I saved that boy!" Brodis bellowed, towering over her as he pointed to himself. "I DID! He lives, and has benefited from my actions. I saved him!"

Her words had struck something within Brodis, her passionate desire to protect Phenix drawing out his own feelings - even after hundreds of years, their existence was still something strange to him, heightening them beyond what most people could ever feel. The insult that she gave him ripped open his heart better than any amount of magic or steel could ever hope to.

"I brought him from the moon, shaping the energies for ALL to see!" he roared, pressing against her mind further. "I allowed him to be happy!"

Avaria fought for the will to look back up at him, stunned by his passionate words. In that moment, she realised he was not a demon at all, and the connection between the being that resided within the Ogre's corpse to the world around them became painfully clear. She knew he was speaking the truth, and felt a measure of kinship with the being despite the harm he was causing to her.

"TO LIVE!" Brodis bellowed as he began to assault her mind with images from the past. Avaria's eyes widened as she looked up into Brodis' once more, though it was not their current reality that she saw.

The first image of Brodis' memories of Phenix was of saving him from a dark elf, from besting the Dark Prince of Neriak to protect Phenix. The next image was of Brodis healing Phenix after his sessions of torture from a beautiful Teir`Dal, with such Hate in her eyes, they burned brightly into Avaria's mind. Many images of the many times he was able to save Areanna from the undead, or from the giants that plagued her nightmares, or from her very father washed through her mind, and despite the assault, her hands reflexively balled into fists and her jealousy flared for an instant before the next sensation washed it away.

There were no more images, only feeling. Avaria was washed over by the intensity of the love in both Brodis' and Phenix' heart when they were both using the same body. It was then she realised why he had called Phenix his son, and she could feel past the radiant power to Brodis himself...and it was suddenly as though Phenix were there. It was shocking to experience what they had gone through together, and how it had affected both of them as they became entwined into one being - their separation had been the hardest thing either of them would ever experience.

"I allowed him the chance to do it all again.... without consequence," Brodis explained, his voice becoming so much like Phenix' to her ears now. "To find what he is, to allow him that which I had lost so many eons ago...unrestricted, undeniable love...power obtained without restraint..."

"And..." he paused, looking down with a smile at Avaria, though she could not see him do so, “the chance to be happy..."

The weight in her head suddenly disappeared, disorienting her and causing her to waver on her feet. Brodis reached out and caught her again, this time caressing her body gently as he kept her on her feet. Her body was light, her frame much smaller than a typical Koada`Dal, which confirmed his earlier realisations about her. The darker features were fading from her as the wind began to blow against her neck, reviving her as it brushed across her face. As Avaria came back into reality once more and focused her silver eyes on him, she stiffened as she realised that she was being held and Brodis understood that she rarely had been touched by anyone...but...

"And you have his scent on you...." he murmured, grinning.

"I...we...we're friends, Brodis." she replied quickly. "Whenever he's in port, we're together..."

She blushed, actually looking down finally, and a slight sadness came over her. She couldn't see Brodis' smug grin as he looked her over, nodding slightly as he did.

"Oh, I'll bet...." he snickered at her, clearly implying that she and Phenix had done more than they actually had.

"No, he doesn't think of me like that," she replied, her head snapping up to look at him again, "I've only ever touched his arm and given him a kiss on the cheek, and even then that made him uncomfortable...I think."

"She doesn't listen," the ocean chuckled, her waves barely braking against the shore. Avaria looked back at the water in confusion, blinking slightly at her words.

"She'll figure it out," the wind mused as it blew through the trees.

"So, I let her live," Brodis sighed, looking down at Avaria as she turned to look back up at him.

"Such pretty eyes," he purred, "I can see why he's taken to you...."

"Pardon?" she asked, blinking at him.

"If you wish to keep him, Darkfae, never tell him what you are," he stated.

Though she began to ask him questions, Brodis only giggled slightly as he wrapped his hand around her right upper arm. Grinning, he began to squeeze her arm. His grasp began to burn the flesh beneath her rob, causing her to panic and reach up with fire-wreathed hands that gripped his hand as her nails dug into his undead flesh. A slight cry echoed from her lips as she tried to pull her arm away from his grasp, her silver eyes looking down in fright at his hand as it felt like hundreds of tiny needles etched something into her flesh. The burning suddenly went cold - too cold - and a searing pain from the intense temperature shift flooded over the stinging of the needles as Avaria began to cry.

"What are you doing," she whimpered through her tears, still trying to escape his grasp.

"Giving you what you want," Brodis said, grinning down at her. "When I release you, all you have to do is read what's on your arm...."

She looked back down at her arm, tears streaking down her cheeks from the pain. Slowly, Brodis released Avaria's arm and turned towards the ocean.

"Ph-phenix' past...?" she asked, raising a hand to where Brodis' was to gently massage the area as feeling began to return to it.

In reply, Brodis winked at her.

"Is there anything else you desire? Wealth? Power? If so..." he said as he began to walk towards the ocean, "...go talk to a God..."

"Brodis!" she screamed after him, "Brodis...do I tell him about you or not?"

"That's up to you," his voice replied in her mind, "But if you knew what you know, and if he were you, would you want to talk to yourself?"

He faded from her view, and it seemed that he simply became part of the ocean and vanished. Avaria stood on the shore, shaking as she realised her body had gone into shock from the experience; the burning green fire beside her caught her eyes, and she watched as the book became smaller, slowly morphing into a real firefly before it moved before her. Holding out her hand, she watched the small creature come to rest in her palm before it turned into a tiny jeweled earring that she carefully pierced the cartilage near the tip of her ear with.

"Goodbye, Brodis," she whispered, calling forth the power to return to Qeynos.

Once she vanished from the shores, the ocean roared, crashing a large wave over where they had been standing, covering the blackened glass with sand and sediment, hiding any trace of what was done from the world once more. She was patient, and she knew someday Avaria would return to her, but until then she would help the woman protect her secrets.

Sitting at her desk, she watched the Petra Mnemoi spin suspended within its stand as the rainbow below them danced quietly. Every moment, every sensation played over her again through the orb's power and she silently thanked her mentor for the gift. Over the past hour, she had poured the entire night into the orb, coercing it into an agreement that would allow her to recall that the orb held something special that it would show her whenever she please, but that she would never recall any detail but the sensation of being Brodis and Phenix as one. The Petra Mnemoi was content with this arrangement, having found an unending opportunity to drain away memories from a being, and Avaria preferred to recall very little so that she never accidentally reveal the truth to him.

As she walked away from her desk, the memories of the night began to fade once more and her thoughts returned to Phenix, knowing he would be asleep in the other room. Tomorrow, she would register the Order she created officially with the Royal Accountant, and take care of the last few things she needed for her library, but tonight...

Quietly, she slipped into the other apartment, bare feet making hardly any noise against the floorboards. Her hair was still down, the clasp sitting back on her desk after being removed so she could brush the tangles Brodis had made away and she still wore the thick woven robe, though she had slipped out of the bright green leathers before leaving her own room.

In all their time together, Avaria had never even looked into Phenix' room aside from the one time he demanded she step into the doorway so he could hear her speaking. In the dark, moonlight danced down through the windows and cast a soft light across the bed. Phenix was laying with his back to her, shirt tossed aside somewhere before he'd gone to sleep. For what seemed like an eternity, she stood watching him sleep, almost afraid to move as it might make him wake up and tell her to go sleep in the other room.

Finally, she quietly sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her legs up and stretching out on her side, facing away from him to watch the moonlight play out across the room. She felt him move in his sleep, as he turned and propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips when he was sure it was her. Pulling his pillow over so they both could rest on it, he settled back down and put an arm across the shaking Avaria, pulling her close to hold her while they slept.

Smiling, she gave into the exhaustion that she felt and fell asleep in Phenix' arms.

She slept for some time, despite the vicious nightmare haunting her mind, waking late in the day.

For a long moment, she was unsure of where she was, sitting up slowly to look around the room. Her eyes settling on the pile of strongboxes in one corner, she realised that she was in Phenix' bed...but he was not.

Slightly panicked, she rose from the bed and walked into the front room, eventually making her way into the library. When she could not find Phenix' anywhere, she went back into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed.

The parchment on the bedside table finally caught her attention and she picked it up, eyes reading it slowly. She was surprised to see that his penmanship was quite good, only to chide herself immediately for thinking so poorly of him at all.

"...out to sea for some time..." she sighed, tossing the parchment aside.

His note explained that he had originally come to the library to explain to her that he was leaving again, but this time the captain was being vague about when they would return - previously, he had been able to tell her how many days they were expected to be gone, but this time he didn't have that answer.

Their argument had kept him from explaining, and ended up keeping them from being able to spend any time together before he had to leave. If she had known he was leaving, she would have waited to speak to Brodis, and was angry with herself for losing that time with Phenix.

Unsettled, she began straightening his apartment.

Feastday, the 2nd of Weeping

2009-04-06T17:00:00.001-07:00

Some things are better left unwritten...

...today was one of those days.

All in all, I had to take a woman to the Temple - despite being healed physically, she remains unconcious. The Temple has an entire section dedicated to this sort of situation, and the other priestesses there are far more skilled than I in these matters.

As far as they know, I found her while looking for a rare root in Nektulos Forest.

From this experience comes something more, however, as I have met a man who offers everything and nothing - a mentor, of sorts. Despite my better judgement, I felt compelled to agree to his offer and am now his student.

As far as I've told anyone, he is teaching me to be a scribe. In truth, he's given me a way to flourish magically and temporally...and given me something that may help me against Brodis.

Unfortunately, since stepping foot into port, Phenix has not let me out of his sight otherwise - so I've barely been able to do anything but quietly wait for a time to go summon the demon for questioning.

Perhaps closer to his next seafaring I can do what has to be done...

Brewday, the 1st of Weeping

2009-04-06T16:59:00.002-07:00

For the past few days, Phenix has been humoring my rather scholarly activities; not only did he assist me with moving some of my library to the suite next to his in Irontoes, but he has also gone out with me to recover pages of several tomes I've been working on.

He's taken a surprising interest in the transcription of Kane Bayle's trial, though we've gotten to a point where we can do little work on recovering the document on our own. Its almost as though it has caused him to remember something, as I've only ever seen him passionate about things he remembers or things that involve doing pirate work.

Still, despite our progress there coming to a grinding hault, he has suffered through the rather boring process of recovering the writings of the Cellus family in Antonica. For a short time today we even had the aid of a rather talented monk named Saiwynna - I believe that was what she said, she was, after all, compeating with the barking of gnolls at the time she spoke.

After we recovered the complete transcript of both Ignata and Isabella, the three of us journied into the Thundering Steppes to try and work on the Third Key; we became distracted by others who needed to finish work up for the armoursmith Ian. As Phenix had some work to do for him as well, and some of my work with Selwyn involved the same things, we all set out to finish that off.

We got through a good bit before we found ourselves exhausted. Phenix is sleeping right now next door, and I'm here writing things down - I suppose he's deep enough in his sleep for me to slip back in there now.

It is pleasant to have found a friend - at all, I suppose, but especially one who does not mind my scholarly ways.

Burnday, the 28th of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:59:00.001-07:00

There was a lot that occurred last eve, but the only thing I care to write about at the moment is the ending of the night.

Despite problems with our adventure to the Crypt of Betrayal - someone even vanished before our eyes, the poor ranger - and despite being lectured for them...despite not being told something that was on my mind, Phenix was still rather pleasant to me during our nightly drink.

When I said I was planning to head back to my library to sleep, which I believe he realized there was no bed in that tiny room, he stopped me from leaving and invited me to stay there. Tucked away in the corner of his room, in a stone alcove is a spare bed and table, for guests apparently - though he claims it's never been used.

It was so strange, as my bold little pirate became rather shy and I believe I saw him blush when I told him to not just rush out of his room in the morning, since I did not have anything to sleep in; the robes are far to fine to be slept in, and the leather just too constricting.

The bed was soft, and such a change from falling asleep in my office chair - I wish I could spend every night there, at least the ones we don't spend out under the stars while adventuring.

This morning I decided that it was time to make some use of my savings, and purchased the room beside his in Irontoes. My library is becoming quite crowded as I get more things during my adventures, and of course as I acquire more books. It is high time I moved into a larger space with it, and perhaps have my own space in the back room much like Phenix does in his place.

Moving is long and tiresome, and I've stopped for the night. Even with Phenix' help moving everything from Castleview to North Qeynos, I've managed to work myself into quite a state. Absolutely exhausted...

Suppose I'd best go over there and crawl into bed before I can't move anymore.

Steelday, the 24th of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:58:00.002-07:00

It finally occurred to me that events kept me from checking back on the woman I healed a few weeks ago, sadly when I stopped by today she was not home.

High Priestess Cassondra has asked me to investigate the goings on down beneath the city - she wants a report of any changes to the entire catacombs. This may take me some times, as while little bothers with me in the Down Below or Vermin's Snye, the Crypt of Betrayal is still beyond my talents to survive.

I suppose I'll see if Phenix wants to go with me to investigate, as of late we've been spending most of his time off-ship together. Oddly enough, it seems quite a number of ships are no longer leaving the port as frequently as they were. I suppose I should ask him about that as well.

While I now have the blood, I do need a few more things before I can bring Brodis out of whatever hiding place he's gone to. I need a number of demonic bones as well, and from what I've been able to find, there are some sort of demonic skeletons that haunt the Crypt, so I may be lucky there. I also need a shroud, preferrably from the era of when Stormryder and Brodis were...whatever they were. That should be in the crypt as well, though how I'm going to get a shroud without Phenix noticing is beyond me.

I suppose I should go see if that woman is home yet....

Steelday, the 17th of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:58:00.001-07:00

I've begun frequenting a little tavern out in the sticks - a little place known as the Raven, Mythic. It's quite awkward to be there sometimes, as Qeynosian and Freeporter alike are welcome there; it's very difficult to ignore the dark ones when they're all over the bar and very vocal.

One particular Teir'dal woman has unnerved me. Twice during last eve, I attempted to aid someone, only to be cut off by this woman both times. The second time was most upsetting, as the strange high elf woman that had stumbled into the bar was quite fascinating...and one of my own damn kind. I'd already started ordering food for her, with the intent of paying for it, and this tart stepped in and told the server she would be paying for it.

I said to hell with it and left the bar - let the little tramp garner her attention and favour to better her position, as all these Freeporter Teir'dal do.

Prior to the second frustration with the Teir'dal woman, I overheard a conversation between a pair of half elves - a woman named Gallah and a man named Vahhn. The first was rather distant and jaded, and left the bar quickly; the second, however, proved useful.

I followed Vahhn up to his room, and explained that I had a few questions about some of the people he mentioned. It's become amazingly easy to assume a nervous and paranoid air when dealing with anyone concerning this matter, and I assume they believe I'm worried about catching Brodis' attention.

This Vahhn holds pieces of the puzzle that it seems the D`Narin's do not or care not to share - he knew Phenix after the man had become Areanna's protector.

He clarified a number of things for me, first that these Riders I was told about were a group known as the Wind Riders; I assume from the descriptions that they were inspired by the deeds of the Wind Runners and attempted to follow in their footsteps. The opposing group was known as the Shadow Striders, again I think that they were a group inspired by the more well known evils - the Shadow Sabers.

There was a bit of confusion when he said they were lead by the Imshee`Cro twins - I assumed he meant that this Areanna of Phenix' was a twin, when in fact she was the adoptive daughter of one of these twins he spoke of. Her "father" Faileas was the leader of these Striders and her aunt Sugan - one of Raenewae's wives - was in charge of the Riders.

After sorting that out a bit better, it occurred to me that perhaps the most important information this Vahhn could have would be about Areanna, her death, and Phenix' role with it all. So, I started digging there.

He knew quite a bit about the incident, though he'd not witnessed it. He'd been the one to play her funeral laments, and I almost hesitated in asking about her death. I didn't want to reopen any old wounds, but he seemed rather at peace about the situation.

From what he told me, Areanna and another of her guardians - someone Vahhn described as almost an angelic creature, with a complex name, often called Aen - had gone to the Plane of Corruption, a lesser plane of Bertoxxulos, to save her "father".

They were appearently ambushed upon their return to Norrath, and her aunt slaughtered both Areanna and her guardian. From what I could gather, Phenix was away when this occurred, and did not find out about the incident until it was far to late.

Vahhn says that Phenix fell into a deep depression for quite some time afterwards, and that a woman known as Stiyx masqueraded as Areanna for some time, no doubt causing even deeper grief for him. However, at some point, Areanna returned to Norrath and their small family was reunited.

Sadly, Vahhn lost track of them sometime after this occurred, so he was not sure of what became of Phenix.

On a gamble, I asked him if he recalled Brodis at all. He seemed to recall Brodis very well, with a visible dislike. Vahhn explained to me that from what he knew of this being, the demon was constantly after Areanna or her daughter Telian, somehow exerting a measure of control over them and a few others within the Striders.

Most dominately, this Vahhn remembered what it was like to fight against him - something that is incredibly useful to me. He described the demon, and the power that simply radiated from him, and gave me a general idea of exactly what I would be dealing with...I'm worried, but I plan on going through with the summons.

Without saying too much, I ran my theory past Vahhn, and he agreed that it sounded like something that Brodis would do - expecially since Telian had survived, and was alive and well today.

Though I was still curious about the events in the past, I felt that perhaps the little I had was enough for right then, as I didn't want to completely overburden Phenix with information. Vahhn offered to talk more once I felt Phenix could handle more, and perhaps have Phenix stop by the inn to visit when he was ready.

I'm...not quite sure if I'm ready to explain to Phenix how Areanna died, as he may blame himself for not being there to stop it. I suppose I might wait till after I speak to Brodis, but...its not going to be an easy conversation, ever.

Speaking of Brodis...I've a vial of fiendish blood to pick up...

Soulday, the 15th of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:57:00.000-07:00

Last eve was...intense.

I finally was able to catch Phenix near his home in Irontoes East, and we stepped inside his room to talk. As usual, he offered me a drink; its becoming almost customary for us to stop and have a drink together each time we see each other, I suppose that's just what pirates do when they socialize, however he has been drinking wine as well lately, rather than the fierce ales he stocks.

The conversation was long, and there were many times Phenix stopped me, saying that it all sounded impossible. However, there were little things he said that made everything fit together even more perfectly than before.

He was clearly overwhelmed by everything I told him - who wouldn't be really. I really was unable to tell what affected him more...hearing that he had failed to protect this woman he barely remembers or the fact that some being took him from their child, possibly to bring the girl pain.

Of course, I did not tell him his daughter's name, I only mentioned that the D`Narin's thought I should meet her. And I did not tell him exactly what Brodis was, nor the fiend's name...

But, he knows him.

We...had a bit of an argument at the end. He was upset, because he seemed to make a connection with everything I told him, but he just didn't want to believe it. Phenix got even more upset when I told him I was still looking into the matter - he was basically just going to run and hide from everything.

Knowing what I did, I honestly could not agree with that thought pattern, because I knew if this Brodis ever decided to check up on Phenix, so to speak...well, things might get quite dangerous, and running away from it may just get others hurt...like his daughter.

We started arguing even more, as he didn't think I had any idea about what we might be dealing with. I...explained as best I could without saying what Brodis was, telling him I knew the nature of the beast a bit better than I wished to. I neglected to mention that the knowledge was...a bit of a sudden thing, but I didn't need him any more upset than he already was.

It was then he made it clear he knew who I was talking about.

"I don't know how much power you think you hold, but please Avaria, I think I KNOW how powerful this thing is..."

The silence after was damn deafening. He looked away, as if ashamed to admit that all of this insanity was making sense to him, which is really what he said next.

I suppose I loose all measure of tact when I become emotional. Though I was trying to tell him I understood what it's like to remember things that couldn't possibly have happened, for some reason it came out wrong and we ended up in another heated argument.

He's...asked several times about who I am, and I've always avoided the questions because I really don't know. There's the things I know from experience, and from what Faeadaen's told me about my childhood, but there are pieces that just don't fit.

He said he had no idea if I could empathize or not, because he didn't know me. I was at rather a loss for words, and just told him that made two of us, and that perhaps I knew him better than I knew myself.

Surprisingly, he realized exactly how delicate a subject he had found, and asked if I was alright. No, of course I'm not alright - he can get all the answers to his past, I can't...it's not fair; but I didn't say that, I just told him I would help him find out because it could be done.

For the next few minutes, he pressed to know what else there was I could do to help him, and I avoided the subject. He's worried, he knows that whatever it is, its dangerous. He told me to not screw it up, because he didn't want to be out a drinking partner.

It was then it occurred to me that I'd nearly broken the glass I had been using, the thin cracks painfully obvious in the glass. Phenix didn't care, and despite me weak grip on his wrist, he believed I'd been angry enough to have caused them.

He had become quite restless at that point, and asked if we could go out and do something. By then I was absently toying with the green fire I'd learned to call up...he said it was oddly calming, an echo to my own thoughts once my attention was upon it.

I agreed, and called him Stormryder instead of Phenix. He practically begged me not to use the name, and I told him it would just be something between the two of us...and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

I made him blush. That surprised me.

It was hard to remain focused on our hunt, as my mind kept drifting back to the things I needed to acquire for the ritual to summon Brodis. There are only a few more things I need, all of them easily found in the Consortium or through the various markets. The hardest is the blood of a demon, but I am sure that I can find someone who hunts them in the Enchanted Lands to bring me a vial or two back.

Perhaps I should go out and find a spot to attempt this from...I have a good idea of where, actually. I just need to make sure there is enough room for the ritual.

Maybe tonight I'll try it...if I can find that blood...

Feastday, the 12th of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:56:00.000-07:00

I suppose the path of the fury is best described as living life inside a constant whirlwind of events. There seems to be a slow lull from time to time as the storm begins to gather more strength than they had before, quickly being swept up into the raging winds once more.

The unnerving sensations caused by administering care to the bardess lessened, though the dreams still do rage with a whole new level of frightening clarity, and many times I have awakened expecting to find a charred halfling in my hands. Sleep is mostly avoided, which I suppose has made me a bit more nervous than usual.

A few days ago, I encountered Phenix again - he was being sent out to retrieve a few things from the broken citadel known as Stormhold; I myself was trying to retreive a few things for a halfling heirophant from the crypt of Storms as well, and with the assistance of a few more individuals, we ventured into the hellish tomb of the fallen Knights of the Storm.

We were well defended by the oddest of families...an Ayr`Dal named Jerath Stoneblade and his 'sister', an Iksar named Inkishral; they'd both been raised within the walls of a Dwarven home, and both were valiant fighters.

During our adventures within the crypt, we found a chest containing a beautiful white robe - it was made of fine spun ruckas fiber, and was held shut by a beautiful silver belt. As my own tunic was becoming quite threadbare, and I require little protection physically most of the time, Phenix was delighted to present me with the robe after the party had agreed that it would suit me well.

As soon as we found a relatively safe spot free of undead, I quickly arranged the robe over my current dressings, and felt quite a stirring power from the fabric as it touched my skin. Phenix stared at me for a moment after I turned around to everyone again, a slow smirk coming over his lips; he later told me that I looked quite stunning in the robe, which was very surprising to me.

Eventually the party found it's way back up to the strange life size chessboard in one of the large halls. It was there the whirlwind spun into a full sized storm that continues to rage still.

You see, we were stopped by a fairly powerful knight - Sir Latharos D`Narin was who he introduced himself as. He...knew Phenix, though the rogue emphatically claimed to have never met the man in his life; Sir D`Narin called him Phenix Stormryder, brother of Raenewae and protector of Areanna Imshee`Cro and claimed to have known Phenix long ago.

It was quite confusing to try and follow, however Phenix quickly removed us from the situation, as most of our fellows had left the halls of the damned for Qeynos once more. He insisted we Call back to Qeynos, and meet back at his place in Irontoes East.

He arrived there as I did, inviting me into his rather lavish home. I was quite surprised by the sheer size of his room, and the somewhat elaborate arrangements of fine furniture within; I suppose he's a better pirate than I first thought, if he can afford such luxuries.

After preparing me a glass of wine and himself a glass of ale, and again complimenting me upon how I looked with the new robe, I asked him what exactly had happened. He asked what I had been doing recently, and after I told him merely studying Nature, he pressed to know what my last name was.

It was then that I reminded him I had asked for his surname when the knight had stated it was Stormryder and he denied it. With a sigh, he told me he had none, and we sat down at the bar - he has his own bar in his home, the scoundrel! - and talked over our liquor.

We spoke for quite some time about the things this Sir D`Narin had brought up. Phenix had been so unsettled by the conversation because he could almost recall what the knight had been speaking about, as if it were familiar to him.

The first thing we talked about was the name - Stormryder. He had heard the name about the city - in reference to the Lady Knight of Karana, Marca Stormrider - and stated he highly doubted that it was his surname, as he was not a bit like those associated with that name; I noted to him that the pronouncation was slightly different, and that they may be two entirely different families.

Apparently that was a calming enough thought, as we moved away from the subject and onto the rest of the things Sir D`Narin had said to us. The next topic was that of this brother, and Phenix said he could almost see him - someone just a bit taller, with a cocky manner and arrogant smirk. The image he described almost reminded me of the first time I'd met him in the Rat's Eye Pub, but he's not quite as arrogant as he made this supposed brother out to be.

He quickly moved on, saying he could also recall this Areanna that had been mentioned, though it seems that he had a less distinct visual image of her - he described her as if she was veiled in shadow and still somewhat indistinct, however he could recall her scent and how it felt to be near her. But he was unsure of how he knew her, if he truly knew her at all.

I watched him as he paced about the area near the bar, continuing to speak of how frustrating it was to have these things seem familiar and real to him. I believe he thinks he's loosing his mind and that he doesn't really know anything about these things, and I did my best to calm him.

Perhaps foolishly, I offered to try and find out more information about all of these things from Sir D`Narin. This caused a different sort of anxiety in him, and he made it clear that I must be extremely careful in my dealings with the knight, and never reveal where he was or what he he was to them.

To easy the tension, I promised that not even the most terrifying of tortures would tear what I knew of him from my lips...noting that I doubted paladins knew much of torture to begin with, so his secrets were definately safe.

Satisfied with the arrangement, I prepared to leave, smirking all the while as I had gotten out of revealing too much about myself to him by avoiding his question. I suppose my manner made him realize what had happened, and as I reached the door he again asked for my entire name; rather than give him that, I smirked and dashed out of the door and down the hallway as fast as I could. I faintly heard him laughing at the gesture, but at least he wasn't wrapped within the dark cloud the events had brought over him.

Yesterday, I was able to find Sir D`Narin's home, and stopped by for a visit. He was relaxing with a very pretty woman and their child, and they invited me inside; I stood in the doorway, trying to appear as nervous and curious as possible, and stated I had come to ask him about Phenix.

His poor wife was stunned, and he had to quickly explain that he had met "someone that he believed was Phenix" down in Stormhold a few days prior. The lady was quite unsettled by this news, and said something about thinking others long dead, that she shouldn't be surprised by this news.

Though I believe that at least once during the course of our conversatation the lady Diera wished to call down the flames of heaven and destroy me, I've pieced together quite a bit from the information I could get from them; I said I would not tell Phenix more than why the name Stormryder differs from the Lady Knight's, and little more...but I did not truly promise that. I intend to tell Phenix nearly everything I've learned.

At first they spoke of the Phenix they knew, who he was back in their time, of how noble and honourable the man was - which I cannot even fathom from the Phenix I know, as he's a rogue, a pirate and a scoundrel - and stated he'd been taken long ago by a demon.

When I recited back the possible course of events, the lady Diera was emphatic about not mentioning the demon, as he may lurk in the shadows. Something...unlocked in my mind, and suddenly I was washed over with so many facts and rituals and pure information about demons; I knew how most of them thought, what type of motives they had, how they were created long ago, how to call them up in rituals...I informed her that I knew the nature of these beasts well enough, and that I would not bring up the being to Phenix.

And I don't intend to.

However, I did ask if I should even bother searching the tomes in the libraries about Qeynos for more information on this demon, and the lady Diera said she doubted there were any books about him while Sir D`Narin stated much of the information would be false anyways.

Once I'd left their company, I again went over the potential series of events I was given, piecing together the life of this Phenix Stormryder as best I could.

He has a brother named Raenewae who seems to have possibly had two wives in his lifetime, one being Marca Stormrider and the other being a woman named Sugan.

Phenix had definately been something known as a Rider, as Sir D`Narin and I suppose his lady Diera had been, until he left them to protect this Areanna woman. From what I can gather, he was quite close to this Areanna, as they have a daughter named Telian, whom Diera insists I be introduced to - I believe I will refrain from letting Phenix know any children live now, as I believe that may create quite an...uncomfortable situation. I know that if I were told I have children, being so young and only recalling the past twenty some years of the world, I'd not be too sane after meeting them. Perhaps once he's a bit more...adjusted to the things I tell him...

Some time long ago, a demon known as Brodis took him away from these people. Sir D`Narin and Diera do not know exactly what happened or how Brodis accomplished such, but they do suspect that at some point the demon took their Phenix away...perhaps bringing him to this time, though I do not see what the motivation for such was.

Why would a demon, a vile being of horrible power, take a man from the Age of Turmoil and place him here, as a young man barely out of his teenage years? What was so special about Phenix that he'd even catch the demon's attention anyways...to the extent of being kidnapped, brainwashed and left in a time not his own?

I'm not going to get answers from my own deductions, so I intend to do the next best thing...I shall summon this Brodis, with the rituals that have flooded my mind, and I shall ask him directly. Half the battle of controlling a demon is using the proper runes and incantations in your ritual...the other half is knowing at least one of their names; having both should make this extremely easy.

Perhaps I will be lucky enough to get the entire story of Phenix Stormryder from Brodis.

For now, I have supplies to gather and studying to do. I shall have little time until after the ritual to write down any sort of linear thoughts, and despite swearing to myself I'll write more in this little book, I am doubtful that I will.

Whirlwinds and storms...such is the life of this Fury.

Windday, the 2nd of Stargazing 3725

2009-04-06T16:55:00.001-07:00

It's been a little while since I bothered writing in this book, I suppose it is because we don't tend to think that which is mundane would ever interest someone who reads such things in the future. Perhaps to someone, my long walks in the forest and along the coast, communing with Nature and listening to Her whispered lessons are quite fantastic.

Really, that is all I have been doing as of late. I suppose I should get back into working on carpentry, but I just...I like being outside.

Needless to say, if I'm writing in this book, something out of the ordinary happened to me.

Upon returning to the Temple of Life after several days just wandering within the forests of Antonica, the High Priestess pulled me aside and asked me if I could perhaps do a small assignment for her. Despite noticing the strange looks of the younger priests who passed by us, I accepted the duty from her, as I feel that I owe the Temple much for putting up with me over the years.

She gave me a few documents and parchements, and a small paper with an address on it, smiling perhaps a bit too kindly before sending me on my way.

According to the documents given to me by the High Priestess, the guards brought a severely wounded woman to the Temple about a two or so ago. From what I could gather from the report that was included, she was carried from at least the beaches of Nektulos Forest to the gates of Qeynos without more than minor mending done to her wounds.

The speculation of how much blood was lost was unbelievable to me as everything I've learned over the years suggests a being cannot survive such. Yet she had been alive when the guards left her with the Temple, though just barely so; I'm sure that if it had been even an hour later, the woman would have been dead.

Two wounds were documented, though the first had really been just a minor friction burn across the back of her neck. Such a wound tends to occur when a heavy object is used to knock someone unconcious, and hers had been mostly mended by the time she arrived at the Temple.

It was the second of the two wounds which was to be the focus of my assignment. They had determined that she had been stabbed with some sort of sword, through her shoulder - the blade had barely missed several larger blood pathways, and had come very close to piercing the heart and lungs. Such a wound accounted for the horrible amount of blood loss, and again I found myself wondering exactly how she'd made it with only the basic mendings noted.

There was always much debate upon how to deal with those who suffer extreme blood loss. One side believes that it is best to only partially heal the wounds of the victim, allowing the natural process to occur as it promotes blood production; the other side believes that it is far safer to heal the entire wound and allow the body to reproduce the blood at a slower rate.

In this case, the wound was partially healed, and I was to check up on how it was healing - I was also to determin if the patient was strong enough to have it fully healed.

While rather to the point as far as the wounds were concerned, the documents were rather disturbing as far as the patient's stay within the Temple was concerned. Although her wounds were serious, the woman only stayed at the Temple for roughly five days before she was taken home by a male Teir`dal.

The most disturbing piece of the document was an account from one of the younger priestess concering an even that happened shortly after the woman had awakened for the first time. Apparently she was on the verge of violence, at one point the priestess had even felt her life might be in danger. All because of this dark elf she appearantly lives with - he'd been the one to bring her back to Qeynos, according to the priestess' account, and she was enraged that he'd been arrested over the incident.

I suddenly understood why the younger priests had been staring at me so strangely - for once it had nothing to do with my cursed awkwardness. They did not wish to provide care for this woman, and I suspected that much of it came from prejudice.

At first I was nearly amused that the odd one in the priesthood would be caring for those found odd by society at large, and I was angered that those withing the priesthood would allow it to keep them from their divine duty...until I recalled my reactions to the Teir`dal monk at the Rat's Eye Pub. The thought strengthened my resolve to provide the couple aid to the best of my abilities.

Upon reaching the Willow Wood, I realized that Faeadean would have my hide if she ever found out I remained within a house that contained a Teir`dal, however my luck was better than it usually is and I found the woman alone.

To be honest, I was quite surprised to see someone barely older than myself resting against the many pillows on the bed. For some reason, I expected that someone who was out that far would be much older than myself.

I did not have much time to dwell on that thought, as the first thing the woman did was glare at me. She seemed quite angry and annoyed with my presence, and as I stepped closer to explain why I was there and to work, I almost felt like she might attack at me. However, after a moment she merely sighed and shook her head, and sank back against the pillows as though the anger had exhausted her.

With my assistance, her robe was removed so I could undo the bandages...which is where I encountered trouble. The pattern they were bound in was not one we use at the Temple, though upon inspecting it I realized how sturdy it was compared to what I'd been taught; I knew that I had seen it somewhere before, but at the time I could not remember where I had.

Unfortunately, the pattern causes the ends of the bandages to be nearly invisible, and after several minutes of searching I heard the woman chuckling. She explained that the binding had been done by a monk, who used the pattern they were taught for their armwraps instinctually as the process was quite similar. Try as I might to memorize it as I was undoing the bandages, I can't remember the damn pattern for the life of me.

I suppose that is expected though...as I started undoing the wraps I just couldn't seem to move my arms and hands right. It felt like they were too big again, and that the tiny little motions I was making should have created more motion. It made getting the bandages off such a mess that the woman asked me if I was alright.

Perhaps it is because I thought I would never see the woman again, but for some reason I told her what was wrong. She seemed mildly amused, and asked me if I had experienced a growth spurt or something recently. Of course, I grew up as all Koada`dal grow up, at least physically - gracefully and evenly; the response must have made her think of something, because she muttered how it may not just be teenage awkwardness and that she was sorry for bothering me about it.

Once I had gotten all the bandages off, I sat down behind her and began to peel away the paddings. Thankfully I had regained control of my body once more, and was able to do so without causing any more damage.

Her wound was covered over in most places by rough black and brown scabs, though some blood seeped out from underneath them via the tiny cracks in between them. It was so horrible on her, my mind immediately thought of the demons from my dreams, the wound was that horrifying to me.

Without thinking, I began uttering the words to a healing spell that would heal most of the wound immediately, while a lighter side effect would continue to heal it the rest of the way over an hour or so. Once it had begun the regeneration, I asked her how she felt when she walked around...something I really should have done first.

She explained to me that Tarack - whose name strikes me as familiar for some reason, I've overheard it before - helped her stand up and move through some of the very basic fighting stances he knew, and that she was able to walk around the aparment a few times without his assistance.

The whole time she had an odd expression on her face, and I wonder what she was truly thinking of me. When she mentioned that she'd make sure she was awake and about at the same time next week, I realized that she expected me to come back - for another check up, which I suppose I would have to do anyways.

I agreed I would make sure that I arrived at about the same time next week, and returned to the Temple. The High Priestess was rather surprised by my report, and commended me for my choices...I neglected to tell her the correct order of the events...as it worked out well anyways.

After having to stare at that wound...thinking about those demons...I think I am going to have a long walk...I'm fairly shaken over it, which bothers me even more.

To think, I admitted why I was so awkward to her with the belief we'd never speak again...I'm almost embarassed now...

So much to think about...

Feastday, the 19th of Greyeven 3725

2009-04-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

For the past week and a half, I've gotten in some fairly good study time, despite the distractions of pirates and bars and the like. I'm still digging through books, but I've not found any mention of the King's Fury anywhere. I suppose that's to be expected - most of these books are about crews long dead, most before the cataclysms.

In my studies, I've learned quite a number of different healing spells recently, and a rather odd transformation spell. While it gives the form of a lion, there are a number of more subtle augmentations that it bestows, making me quite a bit more effective with Nature's magicks.

The second...profound...thing I have learned troubles me. I've learned to create a green fire about my enemies; it's like, a weakened version of the fires I control in those horrible nightmares.

I couldn't sleep much after learning to do that, as the dreams were even stronger than before. This time it doesn't become quite so indistinct after the first few vollies - I witness the deaths of many brave Halflings and their allies, and the carnage is unbearable to me...now?

Perhaps one of the Oracles can tell me more...

Soulday, the 9th of Greyeven 3725

2009-04-06T16:52:00.000-07:00

Well, I didn't do much studying of Nature today, nor did I study for very long. It was a rather dull day outside, I almost expected it to rain but I know that it rarely - if ever - rains on this side of the world. The unbalance of the most primal essences of this world bother me greatly, and witnessing them even in this small form drove me back into the city.

Some lads at the Lure were speaking about a rather well to do private bar run by a rather prestigous Ratonga named Shank. Some of the more flamboyant ones - the ones I know to be the kind of seafarers that live on the edge of the law - mentioned the idea of frequenting there more than the Lure, so I decided to wonder over and take a peak.

I met some very interesting individuals there, to say the least.

Though I felt rather awkward and self concious, my nervousness was lessened when a rather large Barbarian named Bruan approached me and welcomed me to the establishment. Seems he doesn't work there, however he's quite familiar with the bar, and explained where we were to leave our pay for our drinks. He poured me some sweet wine, and a young man named Blaise introduced himself to me.

Poor Blaise. I thought I was a nervous wreck around people, but it seems that this Ayr`Dal is more terrified than I am - he speaks with a studder, and seems quite nervous all the time. At least Faeadaen taught me how to mostly hide my nervous nature, perhaps I'll try to help Blaise overcome his.

It seems that both Braun and Blaise are gifted with the ability to speak with spirits of the dead, and from what I could gather they are both upon the Shamanistic path of the priest. The path seems strangely fitting for both of them, despite how contrasting they are to each other.

There was another Ayr`Dal there, a rather attractive gentlemen with a few wild piercings and long brown hair. He pulled it back into a long braid down his back, and I was quite surprised to see a man with such long hair - I am far to used to the shorter styles of the Koada`Dal.

He came over to the bar, a good ways away from me, but I could have sworn he was watching me as I leaned back and enjoyed my drink. Before he had the chance to say anything, a Teir`Dal came into the bar...a dark elf...within the walls of Qeynos...I am still not sure what to think of that.

Faeadaen has made it clear that speaking to the dark ones who claim to serve the Queen is unwise, and warned me that if I did so, she would not tolerate it. So rather than wait for someone else to enter and see me, and word to reach Fae, I went into the back room - the strange assortment of pets was better than the Teir`Dal at that moment.

Blaise came to find out what was wrong; leave it to the Ayr`Dal to be so...non-judgemental of the more vile races of Norrath. He seemed quite bothered by the fact that I would not be in the same room with the Teir`Dal, despite explaining to him that the obvious age of the dark elf meant he probably was a fighter in the War of Fey - and probably destroyed our ancestral home.

Once Blaise left, the other Ayr`Dal came back into the room I was in; I half expected another round of questions and opinions about my sudden change of rooms, however that's not what happened.

He introduced himself to me after asking if I was alright. I'm sure I was blushing up a storm the whole time, as he is rather attractive and had a very pleasing voice. His name is Phenix, and after a bit of chatting I found out he was a seafarer, who was part of the crew of the King's Fury...

Of course, I immediately asked him if he'd ever encountered any pirates or the like, and he leaned over - extremely close, actually, I thought I was going to faint from nervousness - and whispered that he was a pirate. After his revelation, I am surprised I didn't faint from excitement!

He pulled away then, apologising for making me uncomfortable and I had to quickly explain it wasn't anything like that at all. To prove this to him, I leaned over and put my lips against his ear to whisper to him about the fact he was a pirate, though I was still marvelling at the fact that one of them was finally talking to me, of all beings on Norrath.

We chatted for a bit longer, until he realized that he was late for his ship's muster. I've heard tale of what pirate captains do to crew who miss important things like muster and all, though I was rather sad to see him go.

Though...he said he'd have to look out for me; being as flustered as I was, I assured him that I would make sure I needed to be looked out for. This seemed to at least amuse him, as he told me he would definately do so.

At some point, Braun and Blaise had departed, though I am unsure if they left seperately or together - it seemed to me that Braun preferred the lads over the ladies, but I am not quite sure. Though I believe there is more of a mentor/student relationship between the two men, at least at the moment.

Since the dashing pirate had left, only myself and the Teir`Dal remained. As casually as possible, I walked to the bar to clean my glass, trying to not glare at him; he was within the city without the guards kicking him out of here or throwing him in the dungeons, so I suppose I should be civil at least.

Eventually, after passing him the towel so he could clean his own glass, I was able to ask him if he had been involved with the War of Fey - he was older than I initially thought, but he told me that he did not think either side would have accepted his assistance if he had been on Faydwer at the time. Surprisingly, he was speaking the truth, which was truly evident in his eyes.

It seems that the Silent Fist at least trust him to a degree, which eases my apprehentions slightly...but only just so...

We discussed his jaded attitude a bit more, and I actually nearly felt sorry for him; it seems as though a truly good person was cursed by the Gods to exist within the shell of a vile creature. However, there are some things that I still need to maintain until I leave Castleview, and I informed the man that I would more than likely have to ignore him unless we met in a setting such as Shank's - Fae would have my hide if she knew I was even in the same room as a dark one, let alone civil to one.

I departed shortly there after, and returned to my room to read over my books - checking of course for any mention of the King's Fury. Sadly, I did not get very far before I found myself tired, and so I committed myself to making an entry now before I sleep. I do so hope this Phenix finds me later - the thought of even speaking to an honest to Norrath pirate is just thrilling!

Burnday, the 8th of Greyeven 3725

2009-04-06T16:51:00.001-07:00

Faeadaen gave me a delightful gift today, one that has turned something that had become an idle curiosity into a full blown interest again. It seems one of her many patrons is a man that came from Freeport, and he was once a Seadury Buccaneer - a pirate! To pay for his entertainment, he gave Fae a necklace made from antique pirate coins, which she has given to me!

It polished up nicely, though there is an obvious feeling of age to the coins still. As it is so old, I have decided that I will not wear it anywhere outside the city, as I would hat for it to be ruined in combat as I've had so many things get ruined in the past.

Of course, I've pulled out my old books about pirates and seafaring people, though I've heard of a book on Sirens that I do not currently possess. Acquiring a copy is going to be difficult, as I am told it can only be found within a village...on the coasts of the Enchanted Lands.

But, despite being a rather incomplete collection, I do have quite a number of stories and historical references about pirates of Norrath. I've found myself wandering down to the docks to read them, sometimes on the dock itself and sometimes within the Mermaid's Lure where many of the local seafarers drink.

I don't think I'd ever wish to be a pirate, but some of them are just so...romantic, and dashing. Even now, amid the urchin rabble I catch glimpses of someone a bit more dashing, a bit bolder than the others; I know there are many a swashbuckler within Qeynos, however it seems to be something they are...silently flamboyant about.

You can tell, you see, by their charms with women - or in the case of the lady swashbucklers, the women and the men - and their way of some how drinking all night without ever paying for more than a few mugs. In a way, they are more talented than a bard with their words, wrapping them in a smooth silk that melts even the hardest of hearts.

But sadly, they are quite particular about their lasses, and despite knowing I've been in the company or presence of at least one, none have taken notice of me. Then again, I've grown used to people meeting me and then immediately forgetting I exist - even if I'm still standing right there.

Fae tells me that this awkwardness I seem to possess will go away with time, that it's just one of the many trials those becoming adults face, however I've met other young elves, and none seem to be quite as...out of place. It's not like the renegade half elves kind of out of place, nor is it like the former Freeporter out of place...but it is extremely difficult for me to break through it as Fae says I will.

Both Kethelin and Savanthis tell me that I should concentrate more on my studies of nature, and not get caught up in the 'childish' notions of romance and emotion like Faeadaen has; they always remind me how horrible of an entertainer I was, and insist that such a profession is all I will be left with should I explore such notions at all.

Still...watching the occassional swashbuckler charming a lady makes me wonder if they're wrong about such things. Then again, it seems those two only have associates instead of friends, which is not something I wish. I would like to find friends, but those my age in Castleview and much of Qeynos seem to be quite cliquish or off on wild adventures.

I suppose I should stop dawlding and spend time studying in Archer's Woods. Though I've learned to call the wild spirit of a being out, there is quite a bit for me to learn before I can begin to study the higher paths of Nature...

...I'd rather go to the Lure and read more...

Windday, the 2nd of Greyeven 3725

2009-04-06T16:49:00.000-07:00

For years, since shortly before my thirteenth birthday, I've had indistinct nightmares plague my sleep quite often. For quite some time, they were but vague images of fire and ice but since I gave up trying to be an entertainer and answered the calling of Nature, they've grown worse.

Now after several encounters with the Unseelie fae within the Peat Bog, it's becoming frighteningly distinct and realistic.

It always starts out with a picturesque scene of a lush, green land filled with halfling holes and a few larger wooden buildings. There is some sort of stream or lake or something there too, and fields full of fresh fruits and vegetables. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and happiness can be felt all about this little vale. It reminds me of the Baubleshire, but larger and filled with more lush vestiments of nature.

This blissful serenity never lasts for long in the dream; an imposing shadow blankets the hamlet as a large demonic being walks towards the halfling holes. The demon is followed by scores of other demonic beings, corrupted animals and dark faeries.

My perspective is that of someone within their ranks, fluttering slowly towards this little scene with a mind full of Chaos. The person I am experiencing the dream through does not quite understand why they have chosen this place, but looks forward to the Discord that will come forth.

I know that the being I'm seeing all of this through was weak before her kind encountered the demons, and that through pacts and trysts with their dark saviors, they became stronger. I am not sure if this being received her powers through a pact, or if she was one of the offspring of the older dark faeries and their demon lovers. But I know that her powers are both fae and demonic...such an abomination of Nature.

With a bellow of darkness, the large demon cast down the first flames of battle upon the vale. Within moments, all of these beings are calling down flame, ice and lightning - their intent the destruction of the halflings and their allies within.

It is then I see my hands, tiny and delicate, stretching out before me to call down the powers of Nature...but it is not pure, and feels so different from how I do so in the waking world. The creature I am in this dream still does not understand why they are attacking, but delights in the havoc their assault sends rippling through the world; such Discordant energy only fuels her more and soon the questions leave her in her Chaotic dance.

Though the dream becomes indistinct again, blurring into images I cannot yet comprehend, I believe these monsters won against the halflings within this vale. I must find more information about the history of these small fellows to see if there is any record of such an assault.

Unfortunately, these little faeries within the bog seem to have it out for me, as I find myself having to go against them in battle to recover some bits of lore.

On a brighter note, my studies of Nature are flourishing and yeilding promising results. The healing powers of a druid are far more varied than that of a priest, and the regenerative magics have proven far more dependable than the simplistic direct heals I had learned previously. Though admittabley, my favourite thus far has been the chilling power of ice I've learned to call - the sound of freezing and the glittering of the ice as it envelopes an enemy is almost euphoric.

I believe my calling is that of a Fury, but I still am conferring with those of greater power upon that matter. I have a few more things to learn before I will have to chose my true path, but if the feeling that the call of ice gives me is any indication, I already know the answer.

For now, I must return to my studies within Vermin's Snye and hopefully finish this guide one Hasten Bootstrutter has left about Antonica, of course along with the History book I've found on the Halflings.

Nai i Valar nauvar as elyë.