Lights end part six Perisia’s capital had a graveyard that was almost as large as the city it’s self. It was a five day ride from Dal-Muh to the graveyard. The travel would have been faster if not for the boarder guards that had to be avoided at all costs. A camp was set up several miles away to keep suspicions down. Nadala had not been to the graveyard yet, preparations were managed by Dal-Muh’s trusted and Nadala was not needed until that evening. Geo had been brought along as well, he had become possessive of Nadala and no one was capable of speaking with her without a fight from him. Nadala could sense the hate pouring from him. She had to equal his own mood with a inner rage of her own. Nadala sat her head rested on Geo’s lap as his hands had instructed. He stroked her hair and Nadala sighed bothered by the heat. His eyes were on Isabelle who remained in camp with the guards. “Why does he become so impossible when you‘re around?” she questioned Nadala. “He thinks I‘m you, I would have thought seeing you would change his mind, but Geo must just remember your kindness and not your cruelty,” Nadala said her voice cold and sounding almost automated. Isabelle nodded, “To bad. I‘d have him live with me, but if he has eyes only for you there‘s no point.” Nadala frowned, Isabelle though notorious for her cruel ways and heavy handed attacks on various colonies, was kind to Nadala and spoke to her as though she was a friend. She had even gone so far as to supplement her diet with cream. To help lift her weight. It was harder to do out here in the dessert. But Isabelle had the cream buried and dug up for her. Apparently now it had gone bad so she wouldn’t be getting any more. Nadala thought if Isabelle hadn’t killed her father she could actually like her. Isabelle didn’t mind Geo being with Nadala, she even complimented Nadala on how he watched her like a hawk. She had even laughed when a guard had gotten rough with Nadala and Geo had broken his wrist. Isabelle rose from where she sat under a small shade sail and took a horse leaving, no doubt to speak with a boundary guard. Nadala sighed leaning into Geo. The sooner this was over with the better. If she could manage it she would escape with Geo while the thieves of Dal-Muh were busy with the undead that the wizard raised. Nadala knew her power would be used for the raising and she would be tired but if she could tell Geo and make him understand it would be fine. “Geo, I want you to listen to me,” she said in a hushed voice Geo inclined his head and even managed a ghost of a smile. “We have to leave here Geo, but we can‘t do that without your help.” “No,” Geo replied Nadala turned to him in shock. The word was so simple but the emotion surrounding it, his voice is was solid, sane. “Geo?” she questioned him. He looked down at the dagger tucked into her boot and his eyes turned to his face. “I love you, but I can‘t go. I should be buried here. Flesh for the maggots like she wanted.” Nadala’s eyes widened. “Who?” her heart was pounding there was a sad pleasure with his words. He was pulling on her hair now. She looked up and saw the anguish in his eyes. “Isabelle,” he hissed the words. “A rare sickness to the world. That‘s what she is.” Nadala wanted to push him harder, wanted to know if he saw her as herself not a memory like Donavan had said she was. “Then you know me?” Geo nodded, “The moment you showed a fool kindness I knew you Nadala. My mind is vague and wandering but not as much as I would allow people to think. I can‘t be here anymore, please don‘t make me.” He was shuddering tears tracing his angular face. Nadala cringed and struggled against the swelling emotion around her. So much despair she felt like she could drown in it. She let it pull her in, wanting him to understand she felt for him she understood. “Geo, we can change all the pain,” Nadala reassured him. He shook his head, “It grows.” He made her stand, she was swooning trying to fight back she had slipped to far into the emotions instead of mimicking she was feeling. She was lost, afraid scared for the he loved that she would end up hurt by a mad mans hands. Her hand went to her boot as the need beaconed. He was knelt holding her waist weeping into her thigh. Her own tears were blinding. She raised the knife, his back felt naked venerable, ready for the knife, but afraid of the pain it would cause. In a split second she had raised the dagger and slammed it into Geo’s Back with a power she didn’t know she processed. Her face was horrified yet she tore the dagger away and stabbed it into him a second, third and fourth time. Her chest heaving her mind a wash with so many emotions and thoughts overriding her own mind, her own sanity. “Nadala, stop, empty your mind a voice shouted.” She struggled remaining her grip on herself. She dropped the knife. Geo lay with his face in the sand and Nadala lifted her head sky ward and howled in rage and sorrow. He had lured her in with his feelings tricked her, used her to commit suicide. She sunk to the sand the blood making it stick to her hands. She lifted Geo and held him to her as tightly as she could. Her hands in his hair as his had always been in hers. Isabelle, Donavan and the wizard approached her their eyes cautious. “Nadala?” Isabelle asked. She nodded clinging to Geo her lips twisted into a bitter frown. Donavan grabbed the shirt of the dead man and Isabelle grabbed his wrist. “Leave her, devious bastard lured her into this, let her mourn and leave her be until I say otherwise.” Donavan walked away and Isabelle bent down. “I knew this was coming, but it was best to let you learn. Mistakes are the way we all learn. Think this your first and let it be your last. When your done mourning call for me I will have him buried then we must talk.” Nadala’s mouth was open but there was no longer any sound other then a rush of her breath trying to form her scream. She rested her head on Geo’s and sobbed.
Konungir: Part III-- Therodin of Iyandan KonungirPart III The light of the rising sun brought with it the sounds of horses and steel, men cooking and laughing, tent flaps and banners billowing in the cool morning breeze. Hundreds of great warriors, horsemen, and tacticians had been arriving in a steady stream throughout the night. Seeing all of them busying themselves with preparations for what all knew they must face filled Gunnar's heart with tremendous pride. He felt Caladwen on his arm as he walked among the small camp that had been erected on the southern end of the great clearing where the battle would be fought. Kargnak the Colossus, a man with a reputation nearly as large as his gargantuan hammer had come to lend his might. Anallian the Assassin of Ulthwus, an elf who had once fended off an entire legion of orcs with only his bow had also arrived. Even the dwarf Galmig who was as good with his axe as he was with a pint had come to join the fray. Yet, mighty as these great people were, all paled in comparison to the elf who was called Therodin of Iyandan. Years ago, Therodin and Gunnar had traveled all of Third Earth together. Gunnar thought of the elf as more of a brother than a companion. Indeed Therodin had been the only warrior ever to match Gunnar's skill with a blade. Gunnar felt Caladwen squeeze his arm. "All these people have come to fight for you my love. That is how much you mean to all of them." Gunnar leaned his head down and kissed Caladwen gently on the forehead. "No my sweet girl, they come because they must. They come to fight so that the rest of the world does not fall to Chaos." "That may be why they come, Daermaethor, but I can not say the same," came Therodin's familiar voice as he approached the two. "You think I could let you steal all of my glory brother?" Gunnar let out a great laugh and embraced Therodin. "It is good to see that you have come old friend. Your skill will be greatly needed." "May the sun always shine on you Gunnar," Therodin said with a smile before turning his golden gaze on Caladwen. "I see it is still impossible to separate you two. My heart warms to see your smile, fair Caladwen." Therodin took her hand, bowed deeply, and kissed the back of her hand gently. "The scouts tell me we only have a few hours before our great enemy arrives," began Gunnar. "I want you at my side above all others when the time comes." Therodin bowed his head. "I could never be anywhere else. I just pray that your skills are as sharp as your blade. I won't be cut down on account of you being rusty." Gunnar placed a firm hand on Therodin's shoulder. "Only concerned with yourself, as always. Come friend. Let us all speak of battle no more. We shall feast now for it may be our last." Together Gunnar, Caladwen, and Therodin made the rounds through the camp before they settled down for a hearty meal. After all, battle on an empty stomach never was a good thing. -~<>~- "Before I go on you must know more of Therodin, Marganis. He was a fiercely proud man, a dangerous thing in the right circumstance. Therodin loved Caladwen dearly, perhaps as much as Gunnar did. So he greatly resented what they had together. In all his time traveling with Gunnar, he felt as though he never properly received the credit that was due to him. In truth, he had grown tired of Gunnar, had even grown to hate him as time passed. Therodin wanted Caladwen, but Gunnar had her. Therodin wanted glory, but Gunnar took all of his. Therodin had wanted the title of Daermaethor, felt that only and elf deserved such an honor, yet Gunnar had even managed to steal that from him. It ate at him until it drove him to the edge of madness and further. Ultimately, it would be what destroyed the man who was once Therodin. "That was why, when the forces of Chaos drew close to the clearing and the thousand heroes fell into formation, Therodin was nowhere to be found..." -~<>~- Gunnar rode along the tight ranks of the men and women who had come to answer his call. Off in the distance he could see the telltale dust darkening the skies, marking the path of the forces of Chaos. Even with the great meal he had eaten only a few hours earlier, Gunnar felt empty inside. All eyes were expectantly on him. These warriors had come to answer his call, so he was their leader. He knew that it was time to lead them. "Heroes of Third Earth," Gunnar began, his eyes constantly searching for any sign of Therodin amongst the ranks. "For you are all heroes. Soon we will face an enemy unlike any other. This enemy knows no fear, no sleep, no hunger. It knows only fire and destruction. This enemy outnumbers us nearly tenfold, and yet you have still come. That it was makes you heroes. "Here, on this very field, we shall meet them and decide the fate of our time, the course of the future. Know that you do not fight for yourselves, but for all the free people of the world that cannot fight. Here today, we fight for the potter, the carpenter, the fisherman, the tailor. Here we fight for lost children of the world and those that Chaos has stolen from us before their time. Most importantly, we fight for those we love. "I'm not going to lie to any of you. Many people will die on this field. But know that none of us will die in vain. What we do here will ensure that we will live on in the songs and stories of the great bards for hundreds of years to come. They may have us outnumbered, but we have more heart than any among them ever did. That is what will win us the day when all is said and done. "What happens here today will go down into the book of ages. Let us gives the bards and the scribes a story worthy of telling! Let us give the world one last spark of hope! Chaos may not know fear, but by the end of this day, they shall know death! And we...we shall know victory!" Gunnar drew his blade and raised it high into the air and the mass of warriors erupted into battle shouts. At the far end of the field, the first line of their enemy came into view. All of them were twisted. Chaos had taken the light from their souls and replaced it with something dark. Yet Gunnar turned to face the enemy mass without fear. Still holding his sword high in the air, Gunnar pointed it towards the agents of Chaos. With a mighty battle roar he shouted the charge. In unison the thousand heroes rode out to meet their dark host. For a time there was only the sound of thunder as each opposing side rushed forward. Then there was the first clash of battle. Gunnar felt himself thrown from his horse and found himself on his feet in the middle of the twisted creatures. All about him battle raged. The motions of his blade came to him like water down a waterfall. One stance became another and another and another. All about him enemies fell. He felt hot blood on himself and on the ground. He couldn't tell if it was his own or not. All he could think about was Caladwen, he had to fight for her. He had to live for her. That was when he caught sight a an enemy that seemed different from the others. Whatever it was, it walked like a man and carried a sinister looking sword. Its face was covered by black armor, but Gunnar knew its sights were trained on him. As it neared, Gunnar took a stance and beckoned his knew enemy to come at him. "Come at me you shadow sworn bastard!" Gunnar had not been prepared for the force with which his foe came at him, but he managed to meet his attacks blow for blow, parry for parry, and dodge for dodge. Truly his enemy was skilled. It was all Gunnar could do to keep up with him. It was witnessing a beautiful dance. Steel seemed like liquid in sunlight. Each combatant dancing the expert steps only masters of their craft could have managed. It wasn't long before Gunnar could feel himself wearing down. His foe hadn't even seemed to break a sweat. Gunnar found himself being pushed back, struggling just to keep up. With a powerful blow, his foe sent Gunnar to the ground. His foe wasted no time. He began hammering away at Gunnar, preventing him from getting back to his feet. Gunnar searched desperately for an opening, but his foe seemed invincible. After a tremendous blow, Gunnar felt his blade fly from his grip. He knew it was over. Then his foe faltered. Gunnar wasted no time. He jumped to his feet and tackled his opponent to the ground, knocking his enemy's blade away. The two scuffled around on the ground for a moment, each trying to pin the other to the ground. Gunnar at last managed to gain the upper hand. He reached for the black helm that obscured his foe's face and tore it from his head. Then he felt his heart sink as those golden eyes stared up at him. It was Therodin. Gunnar didn't know what to do. He simply stared down for a moment before pushing himself away from the person he had come to love as a brother. "My...my brother...why?" "Because you have taken everything from me!" snarled Therodin. "You have taken my honor and stolen my pride! I am done living in the shadow of the great Daermaethor!" Gunnar shook his head in disbelief. "Therodin...I have given you nothing but love. What madness has taken you?" "Madness? Madness Gunnar?! I should be the Daermaethor. That is the title of an elf of Iyandan, not a title for a human! You have taken that from me! You have stolen my love!" "Your love?" "Are you so blind?" Therodin said, rage building in him. "I love Caladwen yet you, a human, have stolen her love from me! Love that is rightfully mine!" With that, Therodin got to his feet and dove at Gunnar. Gunnar barely had time to react, but managed to plant the heel of his boot firmly into Therodin's face. Gunnar dove for his sword and jumped on top of Therodin, pinning him down and raising his sword up to strike. Therodin stared up at his old friend, pure hate darkening his gaze. Tears and blood streamed openly down Gunnar's face. "You are going to kill me then Gunnar?" Gunnar paused for a moment and swallowed hard. "I did not kill you Therodin. You have done this to yourself. Forgive me...old friend." With that, Gunnar drove the blade into Therodin's heart. -~<>~- The beautiful elf girl walked in a wide circle around Marganis. She was silent for a long moment before taking a deep breath and speaking once more. Her words were like ice. "Therodin had pledged himself to Chaos for a chance to kill Gunnar, but even with that power, he still could not defeat him. Gunnar killed him because he had to, and it tore him apart. But enough of Therodin...my story has but one part left. Then you will understand why I have told it to you, and why I am here."
Lexicons Visions “How was your day?” Edward smiled at the woman in front of him before answering. “Not bad. Helped old man Derek with chopping down that old willow at the edge of his fields. He’s thinking about expanding next season.” He swallowed another spoonful of soup. “Which would be good for us. Larger fields mean more crops, which means he’ll have to build another shed. Which will mean he’s going to ask me to build it.” It had taken them three months to get this far. The first month had been the most awkward, but things had started to improve after that. Never the less, Edward was not looking forward to the coming winter; winter meant no work, which meant he would spending more time at home. More time with Daphne. It wasn’t that he hated or even disliked her. He was simply indifferent towards his alleged wife, but there were to many things they couldn’t or wouldn’t talk about. How did she know father Timeless. What did she know about being a Lexicon. What was her real last name. She had told him her name was Daphne Walker, but Edward figured that father Timeless had told her to change her name to Walker, since that was Edward’s last name, and they were supposedly married. Right. They were married. Edward tried hard not to think about it, but somehow, not thinking about it was hard. There were so many things wrong when it came to their marriage. For starters, there was the age difference. He was twenty-five, she was only eighteen. Then, there was the fact they had never even met before until three months ago. And finally, the issue of all; she was absolutely mind-blowing gorgeous. Long blond hair, pale skin and wizard eyes. The man in the village had often told Edward how lucky he was, but Edward did not feel lucky. At all. “Are you alright?” Edward looked up. Apparently he had been staring at his soup. “I’m fine. Just remembering we’ll have to buy some hay before winter arrives.” They had bought a goat a few days ago, and although there was plenty of food for the animal now, winter could be troubling. She nodded at him and returned her attention to her own bowl. Once they had finished eating, they went to bed, which meant she headed for the bedroom and the single bed, while Edward sat down in one of the wooden rocking chairs next to the fireplace. It were these small things that kept their ‘relationship’, if one was to use that word, bearable. They slept in separate rooms, she carefully avoided him at dawn, when he would bathe, and she would bathe when he was in the village. From the outside, they seemed like a normal, be it somewhat secluded couple. Father Timeless had insisted on that; he had given them a small stash of coin, but had insisted that Edward would try to find work. Being a talented carpenter, Edward hadn’t objected. They were to act normal, dress normal, attend to festivals, and above all else, act like husband and wife. They should not do anything out of the ordinary, or pull attention to themselves in any way. Edward shook his head as he sat down and pulled the woollen blanket over his body. It was cold, and would get colder. He had insisted that Daphne would take the spare blanket, but she had retorted that if he would get sick, it would pull attention. So he had reluctantly taken it, but some part of him, the part that wanted to stay warm, had been grateful. It wasn’t long till he dozed of. He was woken early the next morning by someone loudly banging on the wooden door. Before Edward had moved here, he would have ignored such early visitors. But here, it was a two hour to the village and back, and in the three months they had been living here, visitors had been scarce. He got to his feet and went for the door, briefly stroking the sword that he hung next to it. Father Timeless had given him that weapon with a purpose, and although the purpose was unknown at this moment, he might need it at any time. Again, the sound of fists on wood. Edward snorted and started to undo the locks, which he had installed in the second week of his residence. Whoever was out there, he seemed to be determined to break down the door with his bare hands. “I’m working on it,” Edward said, “have patience.” He opened the door and stared into a familiar pair of eyes. Wizard eyes. “I’m not a very patient man, Edward Walker. Is Daphne awake.” Edward stared at the man for a second, then blinked before answering. “She’s still in bed. But it would be a miracle if she slept trough all this.” The wizard nodded and started to push himself past Edward, who took a step back, letting the man in but still blocking the most direct route to the bedchamber. “What do you want from her?” The robed man glanced at him, seemingly annoyed. “Things had happened. And I need to know some things. She can show me those things.” He grabbed Edwards arm and pushed him aside, with more force then Edward had expected. The man was physically strong, stronger then he seemed. He didn’t follow the man into the bedchamber. It didn’t seem proper to intrude like that. Instead, he started a small fire in the fireplace, trying hard to ignore the silent voices in the other room. Never the less, Edward did wonder what they were discussing. The Wizard and his Lexicon. He smiled briefly before putting more wood on the fire. After a couple of minutes, they came out, and Edward couldn’t help but to notice that Daphne was looking absolutely terrified. “We need you to go outside. Sit down somewhere. Whatever happens, don’t come in.” Edward blinked. “What?” Father Timeless pointed at the door and raised his voice. “Out!” The man’s voice was a mixture of annoyance, fear and what seemed to be concern. “Out! Sit down, don’t come in! Now!” Edward obeyed, but not before glancing at Daphne. The young woman was staring at her feet, and he couldn’t see her face. He left the house and sat down facing the door, wondering what was going on in there. Apparently, Daphne knew, or at least expected what was coming. And obviously, she didn’t like it. He stared at the door for a minute or two, wondering what was going to happen. Wizards were stuff of legend, and the stories Edward had heard were filled with bright lights and fire falling out of the sky. For a childish second, he wondered if that would happen here. The rush took him by suprise, and suddenly, Edward was falling. At least, it felt like falling. But as he trashed around, he suddenly realised that he nor his surroundings were moving. And yet, it felt as if he had just been plummeted into a deep pit. He managed to push himself up, and he stood like that for a second, trying to find his balance, before stumbling at the door. It felt awkward, and terrifying, but he had to reach the door. He half walked, half fell trough the door, keeping himself standing by grabbing the table, leaning heavily on it as he legs started to give away. He raised his head to look at Daphne and the wizard, and his breathing stopped. Daphne was sitting in one of the wooden rocking chairs, and the robed man had kneeled before her, holding her hands and staring into her eyes. But when Edward had busted in, she had instead turned her head to face him, and as the two Lexicons made eye contact, images started to fill Edwards head. A dwarf, his eyes being dug out. A Kronas warrior, fulfilling his Blood Oath. A young woman, holding a globe full of souls. A wizard that ever grows younger. A group of humans, dwarves and elves, trying to save their world from certain doom. Edward was overwhelmed. As the images appeared and disappeared before his mind’s eye, he did not even notice father Timeless rush to his feet, grabbing him by the shoulders and being thrown outside. He knew these people, their pasts, their futures. He was these people. He knew everything about them, including things that they did not know themselves. But there was to much, to many images. It started to hurt, and soon after, he started to scream, clutching his head with his hands as if it would burst if he let go. Then, blackness. When he opened his eyes, it was dark, and cold. Remembering what had happened, he tried to get up, but immediately regretted the fact he had moved; it was as if he had tiny cuts all over his body, including his face and scalp. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” Edward tried to lie still. “Serves you right. I told you not to come in, but you just had to see what was happening.” He turned his head somewhat so he could face father Timeless. “What was that?” Every word hurt, but he had to know. “It is called Resonance.” The wizard kneeled next to him, and for a second, Edward thought the man was going to help him up. Instead, the man gave him a slap across the face. Which wouldn’t have hurt, normally, but now, the slap felt as if someone had sliced him across the face. Edward squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to make a sound. “It is what happens when one Lexicon watches how another Lexicon uses his or her gift.” Another slap, and another eruption of pain. “Daphne is terrified, and exhausted. I put her in bed, but I had to promise I wouldn’t just leave you here.” Edward half expected another slap, but none came. Instead, the man rose and sighed. “So get up.” Moving an arm, he found the pain had somehow lessened after that last slap across the face. He managed to scramble to his feet and started to limp towards the door. He opened it, but didn’t step in yet. “Those things I saw, what were they?” The robed man seemed annoyed, but answered with a calm voice. “Possibilities. Things that may be or may happen. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Edward watched the man walk into the woods, not sure what to make of it all. Whatever had happened, it was not happening now, and he decided that the next time he would not step into the house; next time, he would follow father Timeless’ order. He walked to the wooden chair Daphne had sat in, wondering how she was doing. He didn’t have to wonder for long. “Edward, is that you?” She sounded terrified. “It’s me. I’m ok.” He thought about sitting down, and just falling asleep, but no matter how much his head hurt, or how tired he was, he couldn’t just leave the young woman like that. He walked up to the door, and knocked. “May I come in?” It was silent for a while, and Edward wondered if he had crossed a line here. But after a long painful silence, she answered. “Come in.” He pushed the door open, hesitating for a moment before he stepped trough. She was lying in bed, beneath the thick woollen blankets, watching him with those large swirling eyes. There was a single candle next to the bed, which turned the entire room into a show of dancing shadows. A show in which she had the lead role, for even in the semi dark room, she was beautiful, in her own mysterious way. The worry on her face made her seem older then she actually was, and he tried to force a smile onto his own face. “Are you all right?” She gave a small nod, which caused some strands of hair to fall over her face. “Just tired. But father Timeless said that you would be in pain.” He had been in pain, but there was no point in telling her. “I’m fine, Daphne. Just worried. The things I saw were…” He instantly regretted the words as tears appeared in her eyes, and she turned her head to stare down at the blankets. He rushed over, kneeling next to her and taking her hands into his, forcing her to look at him. Her hands where cold, colder then they should be, even though the winter was about to start. “I’m scared,” she whispered, looking at him desperately, as if he could take the images in her head away. “All those terrible things I saw, I’m scared.” Only now did Edward see how wrong he had been. This wasn’t a girl, nor was this just any young woman. This was a woman who had been forced to grow up before her time, her head filled with thousands of truths, both beautiful and terrible. This was a young woman who had lived a thousand lives. He had seen so much, but only now did he realise it was only a fraction of what Daphne had seen. “It’s ok,” he hushed, staring deep into her eyes. “It’s ok.” He didn’t know how long they sat like that, he holding her hands and telling her it would be ok. He remained sitting like that when his legs started to tire, and still refused to move once they had started to hurt. But when he could no longer feel his toes, he let go of her hand and rose. “You should sleep,” he said gently, and started moving towards the door. But when he opened it, her voice stopped him. “Could you sleep here tonight?” He turned to look at her. She seemed small, and yet managed to fill the entire room with her presence. It was the first time any woman had ever asked him to stay in one room for the night. And although he didn’t love her as such, he noticed he did have feelings for his ‘wife’. He hesitated, but then closed the door. “Of course.” It was the right thing to do in the situation, he simply couldn’t abandon her in the dark room, not after what had happened. He took of his shirt and shoes, but kept on his trousers in an attempt to convince himself of his own decency. It wasn’t like that, of course, but it still felt awkward to step into her bed. He glanced at her, wondering if she felt the same way, but if anything, she seemed to feel relieved. “Thank you, Edward.” He managed a smile and stepped into the bed, sticking to the very edge of the bed in an attempt to make actual physical contact between the two of them unlikely. It was a gesture. A small one, but a gesture never the less. The two would learn to love each other in time. Hundreds of leagues away, a wizard smiled. Setting Daphne and Edward together had been the right thing to do. Two Lexicons, two parts of one whole. And both of them would play their part in the things that were to come.
Kloude Unto the Schi "Your gift, Master Schi." Il-Lior laid the girl in front of him and took a step back before bowing. Schi nodded and beckoned for him to take a seat next to him. "Yes sir." He obliged and folded himself onto one of the adjascent pillows. Eliciting fire from his hand, Schi smiled, "I suppose you think I don't know wof your thoughts, but I do, your loyalty too. And, because you allowed your loyalty to outweigh your errant thoughts, please, choose one." Schi gestured to the line of women to his left, each sitting upon a satin pillow bejeweld and brightly colored, "Your gift from me for retrieving my gift for me." He closed his hand, the fire disappearing in a blink. As Il-Lior walked over to the now disgusted women, Schi was bad enough, but he at least had a pretty face- Il-Lior scared his own mother as a child; Schi stood up and walked to the girl, "Fear not, my little, precious treasure, you'll want for nothing as I long as you do the same for me," he stroked her face, pushing her hair from her face. "I shall have someone attend to your hygene, a long journey does not do well for a woman such as yourself." Lliliean resisted the urge to spit in the man's handsome face, but she winced at his voice, it had to be centuries older than the person it came from, this man was not as she had ever met before. Bound at the wrists and ankles for a previous attemp to escape, Lliliean wriggled until she was sitting up, "Where am I?" She had lost track of time and thought as Il-Lior had wound them through the tunnels harbored within the hill. Schi smiled and moved closer to the girl, "Why, you are in my fortress, where none shall get to you but I." He cupped her chin and brought her face very close to his, "You are mine, my treasure, my gift, my precious trinket. Forget that life of squander you once lived,this one shall be one of splendor." His grin grew wider before he turned to the line of women, now one less than it had been moments before, "Lilianka, attend to her hygene." The woman quickly made her way to them and bowed, "Yes Master Schi." She lifted Lliliean to her feet and then untied the rope around her ankles. "Come with me fair child," she said with a melodic voice as she led the girl out of the room and into the labrynth of tunnels. Lliliean walked silently astride the beautiful woman, watching her glide through the halls with no effort or confusion, "How long have you been here?" Lilianka looked down at the child, saddened not by her question, but her future. "I have forgotten, I was probably around your age when I arrived, but I have seen neither the sun nor the moon since. I only know that I have experienced the woman's curse well over two hundred times since I arrived, as well as been with child ten." She stroked the girl's hair, "You must always believe that there is a way out, always." They had reached the bathing chamber and the beginning of the poor child's curse.
Konungir Part IV: Dethlhindorniel, Thorn of the Rose Konungir Part IV Marganis Tanarban, son of Erganis, had left the safety of his life as a personal guard in King Victor's retinue and journeyed deep into the realm of Chaos. He had managed to fight his way past the vicious warriors of Rogarth, sneak across the borders of Skarmonadia and the lands of the Dark Elves, and combat the twisted creatures of chaos deep within the land called Vorticorda where the Lord of Chaos himself resided. Marganis had come to the dark lands chasing myths and legends, shadows of a shadow. For weeks he had braved the dangers of the land, chased after things only half-seen out of the corner of his eye. His searching had at last led him to the deepest depths far below the highest peak. There, in a shadowy chamber far below the ground, Marganis found something he did not expect. Waiting for him had been the elf girl who had once been know to her people as the First Rose of Summer. To Gunnar Konungir she was known as Caldwen. There she entrapped him and began to tell a story. It was then that Marganis of Blackthorne learned the truth behind the legend of the Daermaethor. He heard of how Gunnar and Caladwen dearly loved each other, of how the thousand heroes gathered in Cavelerus to ensure that the last kingdoms of light would not fall, and of Theridon's great betrayal. Yet the story still had one part left. It was there in the unnatural shadows that bound Marganis that he began to search for a weakness in the elf girl. Sweat began to drip down Marganis face as the beautiful and terrible elf girl walked in a wide circle around him. He felt as though he had been trapped down in the strange living darkness for weeks. something about the place drained one's strength. "Now as you know Marganis, Caladwen was both gifted and cursed as a Seer, not just of the future, but of people's souls. She bore a great weight, they weight of knowing what lay in store for her love, and knowing that even if he knew about it, he would not run from it." -~<>~- "Hold the line!" Gunnar shouted over the din of battle as the rain and thunder sounded in the air. More than half the heroes had either been killed or taken into the folds of the enemy. Gunnar knew he would be outnumbered. He had anticipated death, but they still needed to buy more time. Arrows flew past his head, just narrowly avoiding a killing blow as the fierce Men of Rogarth pounded away at the line of heroes relentlessly. Not only were the Men of Rogarth proving to be worthy warriors, but the mighty Dark Elves had even joined the battle. Gunnar found himself caught between the edge of two blades, doing his best to avoid their deadly cuts in the darkness and rain. It was hard to tell friend from foe, but the only thing that really mattered was the cut of the blade. After Theridon's betrayal, Gunnar no longer knew who he could trust. With an expert twist, Gunnar narrowly avoided being sliced in half by his two attackers. He brought his blade down hard across one's arm, dropping it and the weapon alike to the ground and sending him screaming into the fray. The other attacker fared no better, having his head crushed by the hard pommel of his sword. A third attacker charged Gunnar but met a similar fate as his two predecessors as he was kicked hard in the chest and had his intestines spilled on to the ground. That was when Gunnar heard the sound he had been most dreading, a sound that could turn the tide of battle in the enemy's favor. It started as a low rumble a grew into a deafening roar, and it marked the arrival of a terrible beast. In all the realms of Chaos, there was no monster on Shadow Beast more fierce than those who were called Daemon Princes. Each was a great warrior and a master of dark magic. Legends even said that their names, if uttered wrongly, had the power to kill a man. When Gunnar turned to face the terror that he knew to be waiting, his heart skipped a beat. The creature was huge, standing a good five feet above Gunnar's own height. His skin was like the broken stone of the land, his eyes were of green flame, and he carried a sword wreathed in shadows. The weapon was so massive, yet the Daemon wielded it as though it were nothing. Before Gunnar could stop him, Kargnak the Colossus stepped up to confront the monster. Amazingly the two were nearly equal in size. The Daemon Prince swung his mighty weapon and Kargnak met it with his hammer, and even the mighty colossus was brought to one knee by the force of the blow. Gunnar found himself charging forward and shouting in an attempt to gain the beast's attention and save his friend, but Kargnak was cut in half before anything could be done. Gunnar's heart sank still more as the monster turned its sights on him, stepping over his friend's corpse. When Gunnar look the creature in its eyes, he found that he could no longer move. It had him in its power, and he was helpless to defend against it. The Daemon Prince raised its weapon and swung it towards him in a wide arc. There was nothing Gunnar could do to stop from impacting with the flat of the blade. Then everything went black. When Gunnar awoke he found himself in a dark tent with his precious Caladwen leaning over him with a tear streaked face. He tried to move, but his body was wracked with pain. He stared up at his love. "My sweet Caladwen," he said weakly as she sobbed over him. Outside he could still hear the sounds of battle. "Gunnar my love," she sobbed. "I cannot bear seeing you like this." Gunnar frowned. "All will be well my beautiful-" "No! No it will not. Gunnar...I...I have seen into the future. You must not continue this fight." "My love...if I do not, then the world will fall into Chaos. I must fight." "Gunnar, please listen to me. You must run. We can flee together. We will find somewhere safe and let the world pass us by. We will grow old together and die in peace." "You know that cannot be," Gunnar whispered, his heart aching or Caladwen. "There will be no peace in the world if this fails." Caladwen grew deathly quiet as she stared into her lover's eyes. "What is wrong, my precious girl? Why are you silent?" Caladwen glanced away and Gunnar followed her gaze down to her hand. She was grasping her weapon, Daermaethor's twin blade. The weapon called Dethlhindorniel, Thorn of the Rose. Gunnar's brow furrowed in confusion and pain as he realized what was happening. "What...what are you doing my love...?" "I cannot let you fight on, my love. Forgive me," she said coldly. Then she raised up her sword and drove it deep into Gunnar's heart. His breath caught and he reached out to Caladwen, grazing the side of her tear streaked face with the back of his hand. For a moment they simply stared into the eyes of their lover. Then, with his final breath, Gunnar cursed the fair Caladwen. "You...have betrayed me...may...the...gods punish...you...fair Caladwen, Rose of my life." A single tear fell from his eyes. So it was that Gunnar Konungir, greatest swordsman ever to live passed from the world of the living and into the world of all legendary warriors. -~<>~- "How could you?" bellowed Marganis. "He loved you! You cursed woman! You vile creature of shadow!" Caladwen turned to Marganis, the shadows growing deeper as she seemed to grow larger and more menacing. "Do not speak to me of love, human! You cannot know my pain. Your puny heart is not large enough to understand. I saw what his life would have been if he would have fought on! The shadow would have taken him and enslaved him. He would have lived the rest of his life in bondage, and I could bear that thought. It is better that he died by my hand than at the hand of Chaos." "Surely there was another way! There is always another way. The future is not a set thing. It has many paths and many outcomes. You would have doomed the world for the sake of one man? Would he have wanted that?" Caladwen look went from one of rage to one of sadness. "Oh Marganis...do you not think I pondered that? Each passing day for the last ten thousand years my heart has been troubled with the thought that perhaps I acted wrongly. The gods have cursed me to this place, I have become a hated name among my people. I only wanted to keep my love from more pain than was needed. I took his pain onto myself." Marganis felt her hold on him weakening. He was close to freedom, he only needed to keep her going for a bit longer. "Gunnar was a great man, one of the greatest. He knew what risks he took." "He could not have known. I did what I felt I had to do...whether or not you and the world see it as the right choice, there was no other way." Then it happened. The shadow's grip on him lessened greatly and Marganis fell to the ground. As swiftly as he could, he gathered up his blade and torch and ran for the way out. Not even slowing down, he threw himself trough the exit and began climbing back to the surface. Behind him, he heard Caladwen's outraged and despaired shouts. Marganis knew what he had to do now. Only Gunnar himself or those he loved could touch the blade. He had to find the person that could wield it, for he knew that such a man would be needed in the days to come, when Chaos once more marched out across the world.
EEP=East of Bird's Peak, NEP= North of, EEP=East of The Women Lilinka had bathed and dressed the girl and now they were winding their way back to Schi's chamber. Ten women sat in waiting of their newest sister, each one more worried for the mere child than she had ever worried for herself. Danily, with her crimson eyes and flowing red hair, leaned over and cupped her hand around Clashna's ear, "I can only imagine what he has in store for her, she is but a cloud of a child." Clashna ran her fingers through her own red hair and looked over at her sister, "Yes, she is more rare a gem than any of us could have been, he needs to stop collecting or there will be none left for the good men of the lands." The thought struck her suddenly, "How do you suppose he found her? She is of none of our homelands." Danily shook her head, "How am I to know? I have been here as long as you, and niether of have seen the sun nor moon- Dainya might know, she once spoke of a cloud like child." Clashna nodded and stood up before bowing to Schi, he did not take well to his jewels not staying in their places, "Sir, may I converse with Dainya so that she may teach me her weaving?" Schi waved his hand and returned to his pipe, inhaling deeply and forgetting where he was. Clashna bowed once more before scuddling down the line to Dainya and sitting in the now vacant pillow that was once Gaiyla's. "Hello sister, will you please show me your crafts?" Dainya gave her a knowing look and nodded, "Yes, I would be honored to share my craft with you." She pulled the girl into a hug, and whispered, "Of what do you want to know?" Clashna returned the hug and responded just as low, "Have you knowledge of how he found her, the cloud girl?" Dainya nodded, "Yes, we must first start with thick fibers, but I have none on me." She stood and bowed to Schi, "Master Schi, may I please escort sister Clashna to my chamber of supplies?" Another dismissive wave from Schi and the women were off. The two women left the chamber together and began winding their way towards Dainya's supply chamber, her gift for her many years of service to Schi- she was his first and only wife. Dainya stopped suddenly, lifting a finger to her mouth. Clashna obliged and stood still. The sound of footsteps could be heard growing closer, they were light, not that of a warrior. Dainya gestured for Clashna to intercept them. She nodded and turned down the hallway and around the bend. She reached them quickly and gestured closing her lips before grasping their shoulders and guiding them back to where Dainya stood. Dainya took the little girl's hand and gestured for the two women to follow her. It was but a short walk, two bends of the tunnel and one shallow incline, before they reached her chamber. Lliliean looked in awe at the massive chamber, almost as grand as Schi's own had been. It was lined with nooks and shelves, each engulfed with various trinkets and tools, and other memorabelia. One thing in particular caught the young girl's eye. "Mellanor!" She cried and looked to Dainya for permission. Dainya nodded and released her hand, the little girl charging across the chamber to the sword. She lifted it in her two hands as if it were the very body of her mother, her brothers, her father. She knelt on the floor and began to cry, the tears cascading down her face and onto the sword like raindrops from a cloud. The three women knelt next to her, Dainya to the North, Lilianka to East, and Clashna to the West. Each laid a hand upon the child as she sang the song of her people, the three songs intertwining into one mournful cry of homesickness, grief, and even joy in sorrow. As their songs closed, each laid a kiss upon the girl's head. Lliliean looked each in the eye, "What are your names?" Dainya lowered her head first, the eldest, "Dainya Schi, your sister from the North." Clashna lowered her head next, "Clashna Nevari, your sister from the West." "And I am Lilianka Marderete, your sister from the East. We welcome you and mourn you at the same time." Her face expressed a deep sadness. It had always been her nature to worry for those more vulnerable than others.
Lexicons part 3: Grief Lexicons Grief “What do we know of them?” The robed man glanced at the other man, dressed similar to him. “Very little. We know they are Lexicons.” It was a dark, cold night, darker and colder then one would have expected this early in autumn. The residents of the village below had closed their windows and doors in an attempt to trap the heat and keep the wind out. “Who do they belong to?” The two man were floating far above the village which remained blissfully unaware of their presence. “The Timeless one.” The man that had just spoken pointed at a small house which lay outside the village. Smoke trickled from the stone chimney of the old watermill, their target for tonight. Edward was sharpening some of his tools at the kitchen table, convinced that the chisels could last for another season. Daphne had said he was mad, considering the fact they could easily afford a new set of tools, but Edward could thing of several reasons why they should save the money. Winter was approaching and he wanted to make sure they could last trough the winter and well into next spring. He planned on spending more time at home and less time working next year, so he could spend more time with his wife and their child. When Daphne had told him she was pregnant, he had been shocked at first, but had later assured her that it was the best news anyone had ever given him. He smiled and started to put away his tools, thinking about the first night he had spend in one bed with her. It had been just after father Timeless had first used Daphne’s ‘gift’, more then three years ago. Since then, their relationship had gradually changed; they spend a lot of time together that winter, which led to their first kiss and the first time they made love. But although Edward loved his wife, there were certain things that they didn’t or simply couldn’t speak about; in those three years, father Timeless had returned seven times, and each time he had used Daphne’s ‘gift’, leaving her with a head full of false memories and stolen thoughts. Afterwards, the woman would cry, and Edward would sit with her, hold her and comfort her the best he could. They never talked about what she saw, and she would stay silent and fatigued for weeks on end. But when she felt better, she managed to surprise Edward by being the single most lively woman he had ever met. When she had found out she was pregnant, she had spend the entire day gathering flowers, and when Edward came home that day the entire house had been turned into a sea of colours. Edwards flow of thought was disturbed by a crashing sound behind him, and he abruptly turned towards the source of the sound. Daphne stared back at him, his shocked face causing her to blush. “I dropped the sewing kit.” She pointed at the wooden box that was now lying on the floor, surrounded by needles and knitting needles. He had bought her the kit when she could no longer take long walks trough the nearby forests, as she had done before she had gotten pregnant. Edward chuckled before getting up. He walked over to the chair his wife was sitting in, leaning in to kiss her before he kneeled and started to gather the bone and metal tools. Edward was about to make a joke about her clumsiness when a cold wind travelled trough the house. Time seemed to slow as he turned around and saw how the door was blown from it’s hinges, and two robed figures entered the living room. He scrambled to his feet, placing himself between the approaching figures and Daphne. She tried to speak, but Edward didn’t hear what she was saying as the closest of the robed figures made a sweeping motion with his arm, sending him flying as if he had been hit by a wall of air, immediately followed by a hand movement of the other man, which propelled him towards the door. Daphne was screaming now, and Edward had trouble breathing. As the taste of blood started to spread trough his mouth, he clawed at the floor. What was happening? Wizards, in his house, attacking him. No, not attacking him; removing him from their path. Because it wasn’t him they were after. It was Daphne. They stood over her now, and suddenly one of the two man spoke. “So it is true. She is with child.” The other man nodded. “We knew she might be, Sven. But we have our orders.” The man named Sven slowly shook his head, or at least Edward though he was; the hood made it hard to tell for sure. “I won’t do it.” He turned and started walking to Edward, but ignored him and walked trough the door, leaving Edward, Daphne and the other robed figure alone. The man knelt before Daphne and started to mutter something Edward didn’t understand. Breathing was still hard, but shear determination allowed him to push himself up against the wall. He bumped his head into something sharp, and as he turned to see what it was, he realised it was the sword father Timeless had given him so long ago. He grabbed the hilt of the weapon and lifted it free, whishing he had followed father Timeless’ order to learn to use the finely crafted blade. The robed man had stopped his incantation and had turned to stare at Edward. “It is not you we want. I do not wish to kill you as well.” Edward was not impressed by the words, in fact, the words hardly reached him. All he could see was Daphne, passed out on the chair. “Get… away from my… wife.” With that, he lunged at the man, more falling then running, holding his blade as tight as he possibly could. The robed man lifted his hand, and seconds later a light erupted in front of Edward. But as the beams of lighting hit him, they were pulled into the sword, leaving him largely unharmed. Edward saw the look on the man’s face as the sword plunged into the man’s chest. Not fear, hate or rage, but surprise. The lighting should have turned him to ash. They fell to the floor, and Edward ended up on top of the robed man. He started to black out, his surroundings started to fade and he was barely awake when he heard footsteps nearby. The other one must have returned. They were both going to die. His wife and his unborn child were going to die. A single tear ran down his cheek as the darkness took him. He woke up when drops of water started to hit his face. Edward tried to open his eyes, but it took a while for him to get used to the light around him. Every inch of his body ached, and he was more exhausted then he had ever been in his life. It took him several attempts to sit up, and by the time he managed to get to his feet the rain was pouring down. Looking at his house, Edward noticed someone had replaced the door. He started making his way to the house, every step taking an incredible amount of energy; energy Edward didn’t know he had. He finally reached the door, only to find someone had locked it from inside. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came. He tried to slam a fist into the door, but his arms refused to corporate. And after a minute of weak movements, Edward collapsed again. “Edward. Wake up.” The voice was soft, and Edward thought he heard something that resembled fear in the voice. “Fa.. mle…” His mouth felt dry, and he couldn’t even swallow. Father Timeless held a cup of water to his mouth, which he drank. “You were attacked.” Edward let out a ragged cough, and tried to open his eyes. “Daph… ne?” “She survived,” the wizard assured him, but something wasn’t right. He had said she survived. Not that she was fine. Just that she survived. He finally managed to force his eyes open. “What… wrong?” Father Timeless looked as if he was the one that had been hit by lighting. The man’s eyes swirled and twisted, he was even paler then usual and his normally straight hair was a mess. “She went into labour.” Edwards world collapsed. “My …ild?” Father Timeless suddenly seemed to realise what he had said and started to shake his head violently. “No, Edward, you have a daughter. The child survived. As did Daphne. They both survived.” Edward fell quiet and for a second, he simply sat like that, being held up by the wizard. Once he was able to stand, they made their way inside, to the bedroom. Daphne was there, lying in bed, holding a tiny bundle of blankets. She was making hushing sounds, despite the fact the baby wasn’t making any sounds, and when she saw them enter, it looked as if she would start crying. Edward let go of father Timeless, who had been supporting him, and stumbled to the bad, kneeling next to his wife, placing his hands on her face and kissing her shoulder. They simply sat like that for many minutes, before father Timeless spoke. “You were attacked by wizards. I placed you here, under my protection, and you were attacked by my kind. There is no excuse for that, but I will make sure it does not happen again.” The man’s voice was powerful and determined. “There are those who believe you as Lexicons pose a threat to our way of life, that your are anomalies that must be eliminated in order to protect the balance of this world. But you are not. You are tools, to be used to protect that very balance. I will make sure that there will be no more attacks.” “But there is one more thing. The child.” Edward held his breath, and Daphne held the child closer to her chest. “The child can not stay here. I can not risk it. I will take her with me and place her somewhere safe. She is the child of two Lexicons, and even though I will be able to protect the two of you, someone like her would attract not only my kind but also those which I do not wish to speak of.” The man made eye contact, first with Edward and then with Daphne. “I am taking the child when you are ready. I will be outside the door.” With that, he left, leaving the two Lexicons and their newly born daughter alone. After an hour, Edward came out, holding his daughter in both arms. “Take her somewhere safe.” Father Timeless nodded. “I will.” He held out his arms, waiting for Edward to hand over his daughter. “One more thing,” Edward said. He looked the man into the eyes. “Her name is Eve. Eve Walker.” Again, the wizard nodded and accepted the blankets that held the child. “Eve Walker it is.” With that, he left the small house. Edward stared at the door, watching him leave. After he could no longer hear them, he went back into the room, to sit with his wife and share the loss of their newborn daughter.
Shattered Jewels Shattered JewelsLliliean had barely woken from her recovery, Schi had missed her greatly during his fortnight's journey beyond the fortress, when Dainya had summoned her to the Supply Chamber. She dressed quickly and ran for the Chamber, only good things came of the meetings there. Her arrival at the chamber was met by thirteen solemn faces, her sisters seated in an arc towards her. "Sit Sister Cloud," Dainya gestured towards the cushion that rested within the arc, "There is much we must discuss." Her robes rustled quietly as she waved her over. Lliliean obliged quietly, her eyes scanning their faces for some hint of what was to come. Their faces revealed nothing except a deep sadness. She looked at them, starting from her left, and realized that the arc was ended to either side by the Marderete sisters, thier heads bowed in prayer. Lilianka, Llili's constant companion, could barely make eye-contact, her eyes flittting in escape whenever they met the lakes that were Lliliean's eyes. "Sisters, what is going on?" Clashna raised her hand to the girl, "Shush, the answer will come, but it is not one easily spoken." She sat to Dainya's right, the second eldest jewel among them. To Dainya's right sat Lyveera, a new sister, but the third eldest, she was of a different race than the others, shorter by far than even Lliliean. Clashna bowed her head and began a prayer of mourning. Lliean remembered it from that first meeting in the chamber when she, Lilianka and Dainya had all prayed for Lliliean and the life ahead. One by one, the other sisters bowed their heads and prayed the mourning prayer of her homeland until only Dainya and Lliliean sat looking at each other, the chamber reverbrating with the many voices. Dainya reached behind Lyveera and Clashna and presented Lliliean with two vases. They were of bisque texture, clay that had only been fired once and never painted. "These, my dearest sister, are your keys from the fortress. Lyveera and Fiora have taught you well in the craft of the swordsmen, I believe your mother would be most proud to know that the warrior's blood courses through your veins as it did hers. However, your skills are useless against Schi's army, you are but one fair child, they are many savages whose hearts have long forgotten the meaning of mercy. That is why I had these created." "But, Jewel Dainya, how, how can they help me where Mellanor cannot?" "Mellanor is but a blade dear child, to be used when fighting from the outside, these vases are meant to be used from the inside." She raised her hand, "Listen with your ears before you ask with your mouth. We Jewels have decided that you will not die in these chambers, suffocated by the Schi when you are meant to blossom under the light of the moon, within the embrace of the breeze, under the gaze of the sun. I cannot tell you how, but we will help you eachin our own way, but you must first powder these vases. Yes, you must destroy them untill they are little more than dust, but do not breathe it in, please do not." The warning swam in Lliliean's head, they were poisonous, the vases! "No! I can't allow it! You can't kill yourselves, not over me, we can leave together!" She screamed and cried as she crwled to Dainya's lap and laid her head thre, "I can't let you, I won't!" Dainya ran her fingers through the girl's hair, it was a lot to ask her, to allow a young woman to watch as she lost another family, but it had to be done. "Child, you have no choice, this was our choice, our gift. It is okay that we might sacrifice ou lives for yours, you hold more value than you know. It will be done." Her declaration rang through the chamber, the prayers had ceased suddenly, the sisters now staring at the young girl. "It must be done." Lliliean nodded and painfully began her task. She grasped Mellanor and inhaled deeply as she raised the sword high a bove her head. "Drop the sword!" Clashna cried, her arms raised, "tie a scarf aroud your mouth, it is all pointless if you die now!" Lliliean looked at her, realizing that she was right. She took the scarf that Clashna offered her and tightly wound it about her head, covering her mouth and nose. "Now, you may continue." She said before she and the other Jewels cover their own mouths with various scarves. Lliliean breathed deeply and raised Mellanor once more, the blade nearly touching the floor behind her. Exaling, she brought the blade down upon the vases, splitting them cleanly in halves. They had been softer than she first thought. She swiftly continued her work untill piles of clay lay where there had once been vases. Her tears had soaked the scarf bound round her face. Dainya strided over to her and pulled Mellanor from er grasp, "I shall clean her and make her ready for your battles, you forget this, all of it, and say nothing of the coming days." Lliliean had listened to those words and said nothing as she watched Schi's Jewels die one after the other, each one taking a hellion with her until only she and twelve of the hellions remained of Schi's companions. The night before her death, hers was to be the last, Clashna told Lliliean to go to the chamber immediately after Clashna was found with Il-Lior, Mellanor would be waiting. None of the sisters had said good-bye, each had saved that sentiment to wish Lliliean the luck of her homeland, and the eyes of her Gods. Lliliean begged Schi to allow her passage into Dainya's chamber, insisting that she would not die as the others had none of the gurads would hurt her. He reluctantly bade her go, his eyes misted with the loss of his precious Treasures. Mellanor stood waiting for her, leaning against the far wall of the chamber. Lliliean knelt before the sword and prayed every prayer she had heard from her sisters and her family. "It is in your honor that I may live, under your guidance that I may fight, and with your help that I shall prevail." She grasped the swords hilt and turned to the chamber's entrance.
