Story: Maj'Dulean Tears

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

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

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

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

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…”