Dragonsblood, Chapter 13




The group traveled rapidly toward Chadwick, and by
nightfall the next day had covered half the distance. 
Therion hoped to sleep within his castle by tomorrow
evening...yet he feared the changes he might find...
---d
     They camped when darkness fell.  Members of the Free
Company were not allowed to take watch so the duty fell upon
soldiers of the Kingsarme and was not unwelcomed.  It gave
the men time to stretch their legs and explore their new
environment.  For once, the n'Sete were not required and the
group retired to a separate camp where they could warm
themselves by their fires and roast the brace of rabbits
that had been caught.  Niari shared their meal, enjoying the
sweet, stringy meat and sucking the marrow from the pit-
scorched bones...n'Sete-style.  Afterwards, she found a
comfortable hollow in the ground and slept.
     The next day's ride was a hard one interrupted briefly
by a change of horse when Kiha received a stone bruise and
had to be exchanged with a soldier's horse.  The new
creature was slightly green and it took the Kioshu woman a
few minutes to convince it who was in command.  That done,
the rest of the day went smoothly.  Camp was again made and
again the night passed without incident.  They were on the
edge of  Chadwick now.  Soon they would be seeing the fields
and peasants of the Baron.  Niari sent out feelers for the
Baron and found him in the presence of General Nadeene,
Lorendil and Vengar.  Knowing him well-protected, she slept
well.
---k
     The short-cut knocked off nearly 150 miles from the
normal distance required to travel to Chadwick from Montfort
via the main road that passed through St. Varalan.  However,
the terrain did not normally allow for one to travel between
the two cities any more quickly.  Especially if weather was
poor.
     The weather worsened as the season of decay deepened. 
Skies were grey, colour was absent from the grasses and the
sparsely populated wood stretched to the ashen sky,
scratching its bloated belly with leafless fingers.  The
trip was slow and dull.
     Occasionally, Zeph would be reminded of her
tribulation.  Her path from Chadwick to Montfort that had
led her away from the evils of Soros and into the arms of
her family and friends was littered with nightmares. 
Occasionally she shuddered and grasped the elven cloak,
bestowed by Eldarion, tighter around her tiny body.
     One day.  Not an extraordinary day.  For it was a day
no different than any of the previous days traveled except
for perhaps the wind blew colder.  The outskirts of Chadwick
could finally be seen by the advancing army.  A scout from
the sky flew down to report.  His news would not be good.
---ds
     Therion could see the spires of his castle, yet he
could feel something wrong.  As the scout rode hurriedly
forward, it did not take mind magic to know that the first
impressions were true.  The report was even worse than he
had feared;  throughout the city of Chadwick, people lay
dead and dying in the streets.  Men, women, children, all
with the signs of a painful death apparent in their
expressions.
---d
     They had indeed found the fields and peasants of the
Baron of Chadwick...dead and dying.  Niari was pale as she
rode past body after body.  What had happened here?  Was
this Soros' revenge?  Spurring her horse, she rode swiftly
to the front of the lines to offer her support to the
Baron...
---k
     Grimly, Therion expanded his consciousness to learn
what had occurred; was it a plague, such as had ravaged
Ifreann two short years ago?  Soon, he learned the source of
this new and cowardly evil as he felt the gloating presence
of the very healthy Aureliano as he robbed the castle of
some of the silver spoons.  It was trivial to learn of the
foul deeds, as Aureliano chuckled inwardly over the dismay
which the ruin of Chadwick would cause.  Therion said to
all, "Aureliano has murdered nearly all of the 5,000 who

Status: RO

ble fire ignited inside her. 
Leaning towards Therion she hissed,  "Baron Therion, I beg
you, let me take this man for you.  He is beneath you and
all that you stand for!  Let this be my pledge to you; my
offering of loyalty.  I promise he will get everything he
deserves..."  Therion gave her a quick look to dismiss her
and then did a double take.
     Niari's grey eyes had turned to white gold, shining
with some kind of fanatical fire that burned like the sun
itself.  Barely-contained power emanated from every pore. 
To the Baron, she was Bellatrix itself, cased in fragile
glass.
---k
     An awe inspiring sight!  He had known she had power,
but this?!
---d
     "Please, my Baron!" came the plea again and the glass
quivered...
---k
     Eldarion had landed next to Therion just as Aureliano
had made his departing taunt, and heard the plainswoman's
plea to give chase.  He reached over with his arm out to
Niari.  "Come, lady.  The fiend has a chance, matched horse
against horse, but he cannot outrace a griffon.  You shall
strike for your Baron from the air..."  Eldarion spoke
gravely, assured that the Baron would give Niari a positive
response.
---je
     She felt more than saw the Legentor's arm reach for her
and recoiled slightly for fear of releasing her rage
prematurely.  There was earnestness in his elven eyes and
she looked urgently to Therion for his permission to engage
the chase.
---k
     Therion replied, "He is yours!  Destroy him, that the
ghosts of Chadwick's innocents might rest!"
     Looking to Eldarion he said, "And my gratitude for
speeding the miscreant's doom with griffon's wings!"
---d
     Before the last words left the Baron's lips, Niari had
grasped Eldarion's hand and half-pulled, half-lept onto the
griffin's back in one fluid movement.  Startled by the
quickness and the tingling of energy that passed between
their palms, the rider launched his mount into the sky.  She
clamped down with her legs out of habit and they were in the
air; wind whipping around them.
---k
     Therion and the others watched as the pair of warriors
set off after Aureliano upon the graceful and powerful
griffon.  When they were a mere speck in the grey canopy of
the sky, Therion's head drooped and he stared sadly at the
nape of his horse=C6s neck.  His city lay dead before him. 
Why?

Status: RO

hem.
---k
     Therion and the others watched as the pair of warriors
set off after Aureliano upon the graceful and powerful
griffon.  When they were a mere speck in the grey canopy of
the sky, Therion's head drooped and he stared sadly at the
nape of his horse=C6s neck.  His city lay dead before him. 
Why?
     Gripped with the sadness that so obviously had its hold
upon her once noble employer, Zeph slowly moved her roan
towards him and spoke.  Her words at first were so soft and
if not for Therion's talents, he would of missed them like
down in the wind.  He turned to her young face, but she had
stopped and now looked towards the nearby village. 
Something in the streets stirred and captured her attention. 
People, they were moving.
     Slowly, groggily, the many towns people who once laid
helplessly upon the cobbled stone streets of Chadwick rose
to their feet.
     "They=C6re alive!" cried Zeph with tears of joy streaming
down her rosy cheeks.  She pointed with a slender digit and
repeated the statement all the much louder.  Therion looked
and saw, but it was not right.  They were dead...he had felt
that as sure as he felt the sun on a hot day.  They were
dead!
     Before he had a chance to voice a word, the young girl
was off, galloping towards the village full stride, whooping
and hollering.
---ds
     Vengar had been tense ever since arriving at Chadwick. 
He could feel the despair in his friend, Therion; he didn't
need his fledgling mind skills for that.  There had been an
air of death about the place, and that fact bore down on the
Baron heavily.  He knew there was little he could say to try
to improve Therion's disposition, so he remained quiet yet
nearby.
     When the townsfolk began to rise, his sword was
instantly drawn and his feet were instantly planted on the
ground.  If he had to fight, he preferred the mobility of
being on foot to the speed of being on horse.  Vengar had
fought the undead only once before, and it was in that
encounter that he learned that his bow, entirely
unenchanted, would have little effect on the animated
corpses.  His blade would have to serve in this fight.
     But Zeph went bounding on towards the town, blithely
believing them to be perfectly normal.  She was in grave
danger, though completely unaware of her peril.  Experience
would soon teach her the folly of her naivete'.
     Vengar quickly turned to Therion and asked, "Baron! 
Shall I go after her?"
     The Baron seemed preoccupied.  Whether he was still
wallowing in the sorrow of seeing his city dead, or more
likely using his mind magic to fathom what was happening,
Vengar did not know.  At last, he nodded, not saying a word.
     By this time the little red-headed elf was dangerously
close to the advancing lines of zombies.  Vengar charged
after her, his legs pumping hard as he closed on the girl
with amazing quickness.  He cried out to her as he ran, but
she either could not hear him, or did not respond.  She was
still some distance ahead of him, and still loping towards
the "townsfolk".  They continued to amble towards her. 
Vengar continued to race up behind her.  He wondered who
would get to Zeph first.
---m
     Her tears of mis-guided joy blurred her vision.  In her
haste she had foolishly placed herself at odds and only the
distant cries from Vengar finally made her wary of her

Status: RO

of her naivete'.
     Vengar quickly turned to Therion and asked, "Baron! 
Shall I go after her?"
     The Baron seemed preoccupied.  Whether he was still
wallowing in the sorrow of seeing his city dead, or more
likely using his mind magic to fathom what was happening,
Vengar did not know.  At last, he nodded, not saying a word.
     By this time the little red-headed elf was dangerously
close to the advancing lines of zombies.  Vengar charged
after her, his legs pumping hard as he closed on the girl
with amazing quickness.  He cried out to her as he ran, but
she either could not hear him, or did not respond.  She was
still some distance ahead of him, and still loping towards
the "townsfolk".  They continued to amble towards her. 
Vengar continued to race up behind her.  He wondered who
would get to Zeph first.
---m
     Her tears of mis-guided joy blurred her vision.  In her
haste she had foolishly placed herself at odds and only the
distant cries from Vengar finally made her wary of her
immediate danger, but it was too late. Now surrounding her
horse were several of the fallen townspeople who she thought
to befriend.  Instead, they growled and reached up to remove
her from her roan.  The stench of death filled the nostrils
of both equine and elf.  Frightened, the beast reared onto
its hind legs causing its young rider to topple over. Before
bolting away, the terrified horse managed to trampled a few
zombies, leaving Zeph to contend with a remaining half dozen
or so blank-faced and slow-moving creatures.
     Moaning, racked with pain from her fall, Zeph had only
time now to register her dilemma.  Bloated and discoloured
faces now hovered above her prone body.  Hunger for life was
the only thing that remained within their dead eyes.  A
scream swelled within her lungs, but instead of screaming,
the young half-elf=C6s natural reflexes took over and she let
go with a blast of energy from her outstretched hands,
causing two of the zombies to fly backwards into another
oncoming crowd of the walking dead.  As they fell back,
another creature grabbed her with the strength of rigor-
mortis and she flinched at the pain. Pulling her up in order
to take his first bite, Zeph took advantage of her momentum
and punched out with her free fist.  The man merely looked
back without any expression other than its intent to satisfy
his own hunger.  Now she screamed.
---ds
     And almost instantly she felt herself falling, if but
for the most brief time, until she landed on the ground at
the zombies feet.  Except that the zombie was no longer
vertical, but was now horizontal.  The little red-haired
girl didn't even have enough time to get confused, for at
the moment she realized that her assailant was flat on its
back, she was again begin lifted...this time at a much
faster pace.
     It was Vengar.  Smiling, he said, "Hi, Zeph.  Do me a
favor and don't squirm much, okay?"  Without waiting for an
answer, he lightly tossed her over his shoulder and turned
to make a dash back to Lord Therion.
     Lord Therion.  It had been him who had told Vengar not
to use deadly force in rescuing Zeph.  While he was running,
the Baron had apparently finally discovered that for which
he had been looking.  The townspeople were not entirely
"dead", as everyone had first thought.  There was still a
shred of life in them, and Therion was determined to revive
that life and bring back the Barony of Chadwick.  And
because the townspeople were still "alive", Therion had
called to Vengar's mind and told him not to kill anyone. 
Vengar did not question him.  So when he had finally caught
up to Zeph, rather than running the foul beast through with
his sword, he merely decked it.  The zombie's grip on Zeph
had been tight indeed, but the force of the blow from an
unexpected quarter stunned it and the creature dropped its
prey.
     The fighter continued to sprint back to where the rest

Status: RO

ulling her up in order
to take his first bite, Zeph took advantage of her momentum
and punched out with her free fist.  The man merely looked
back without any expression other than its intent to satisfy
his own hunger.  Now she screamed.
---ds
     And almost instantly she felt herself falling, if but
for the most brief time, until she landed on the ground at
the zombies feet.  Except that the zombie was no longer
vertical, but was now horizontal.  The little red-haired
girl didn't even have enough time to get confused, for at
the moment she realized that her assailant was flat on its
back, she was again begin lifted...this time at a much
faster pace.
     It was Vengar.  Smiling, he said, "Hi, Zeph.  Do me a
favor and don't squirm much, okay?"  Without waiting for an
answer, he lightly tossed her over his shoulder and turned
to make a dash back to Lord Therion.
     Lord Therion.  It had been him who had told Vengar not
to use deadly force in rescuing Zeph.  While he was running,
the Baron had apparently finally discovered that for which
he had been looking.  The townspeople were not entirely
"dead", as everyone had first thought.  There was still a
shred of life in them, and Therion was determined to revive
that life and bring back the Barony of Chadwick.  And
because the townspeople were still "alive", Therion had
called to Vengar's mind and told him not to kill anyone. 
Vengar did not question him.  So when he had finally caught
up to Zeph, rather than running the foul beast through with
his sword, he merely decked it.  The zombie's grip on Zeph
had been tight indeed, but the force of the blow from an
unexpected quarter stunned it and the creature dropped its
prey.
     The fighter continued to sprint back to where the rest
of the group were watching.  Zeph had a superb view of the
walking dead left behind, growing farther and farther away,
though the ride left a little to be desired.  She wondered
if they'd be able to find her horse again.
---m
     Without a word, a shattered and confused Zeph backed
away from Vengar, her saviour, into the waiting arms of her
cousin Elana.
     "Thank the gods you are alright!" Elana blurted.
     "I'm...I'm fine," responded Zeph at last.
     She was carted away by Elana who quickly thanked Vengar
for his courage in saving her young and foolish cousin. 
Finally, away from the others, Elana took hold of the young
girl's hand.  "You had us scared there. Don't be running
ahead like-"
     "Have you seen my horse?" interrupted the younger
Ellesidel.
     "What?"
     "My roan!  He tossed me," Zeph said, eyes searching.
"I'm embarrassed to admit."
     Elana blinked incomprehensibly. She was almost torn to
bits by the re-animated dead and she worries about a loose
horse?  "Child, please take mind of the dangers that
encompass our very lives. We will find your horse. Just
promise me you will take heed of my words."
     Zeph nodded obediently.  She was learning slowly, but
surely, the ways to appease her elders.
     "What are we to do now?" queried the young half-elf. 
"What has happened to the people of Chadwick?"
---ds
     Therion looked out upon the zombies, who had once been
the folk of Chadwick;  he extended his mind to one of the
nearest, an older man who had been the best baker in town. 
He had always supplied goods to the castle, and was well
known to be a decent, good hearted man.  It seemed
impossible that he had changed so utterly!
     Therion looked into the man, and could see the inner
spark of his mind;  but it was cruelly clouded, bent to the
dark will of another, now dead!  The man inside didn't know
what was real, and what was not;  it was slavery, of the
very worst sort.  Fortunately, with the death of Aureliano
the source of the illness had disappeared; with just a small
nudge Helerson's mind cleared.  He looked at Therion,
gasped, and said, "My Lord!  I was told you were dead!  What
has happened to the town?"
     Therion replied, "A darkness has lifted, and soon will
be removed a little more...a moment!"  He concentrated, and
quickly the minds of the zombies were cleared of the foul
remnant of Aureliano;  as the people of Chadwick regained
their true minds, Therion said to the noble company beside
him, "At last we have something more to celebrate!  Though
the future is still bleak, at least we have won these
battles!"
---d
     At that moment, the griffon bearing Eldarion and Niari
was returning.
---m

     Niari's heart raced with exhiliration.  Below them was
Therion's castle and lands dotted with bodies.  A swiftly
moving object fled in the direction of the West and Eldarion
directed his mount to follow.  In a matter of seconds, they
had caught up to the fiend Aureliano and Niari focused the
power that had been growing inside her.
     Reaching out with her own body currents, she connected
to the horsed man.  He wasn't even afraid, the bastard!  He
actually thought he was escaping because he could see no
army following him.  Fool.  Niari "shook" the tendrils that
connected the two and saw him jump in his saddle.  Aware now
of some presence, he turned his head this way and that to
see who approached.  Catching the movement of the griffin,
he looked up and his eyes widened in surprise and a little
fear.  Spurring his horse, he increased his speed but
Eldarion matched it easily.  It would not be long now.
     Reaching out with one hand, Niari concentrated and
pushed half of the energy out of her body, down the current
strings, and into the fleeing form.  A barely visible
rippling flew through the air and hit Aureliano square in
the back.  His body convulsed and hardened into a rock-like

Status: RO

anced.  His brain screamed at his
body to run but it did not obey and he fell to the hard
earth.  Now there was true fear in his eyes.
     "Th-th-there isss n-n-no n-need f-for this!" he
stuttered, his eyes wildly searching for an escape.  "W-we
c-c-can n-ne-nego...t-talk!"  Still the armored woman
advanced upon him silently while her elven companion looked
on with his angry gaze.  There seemed no compassion in
either of them.  They were his executioners.  So be it, he
thought.  They won't take me easily....  Suddenly, Niari
gasped and clutched her throat.  The quivering Aureliano had
reached into his cloak as if to remove it and had instead
whipped a silver dagger through the air and into the
unprotected neck of the warrior woman.  =F4Let the bitch try
her trick again now!=F6  A giggle escaped his lips as he
scrambled to his feet.
     Niari heard Eldarion's cry of rage and surprise and she
whipped around to face him.  His sword was already drawn. 
One word, "MINE!" scratched it's way out of her throat like
a dying thing.  Eldarion hesitated and then nodded as she
turned back to face her attacker, her eyes cold with
murderous thoughts.  The steward was trying to run away, his
legs jerking awkwardly under him. 
     Pointing with a bloody hand, Niari pulled from the
earth; from the air; everything she could find and flung it
at the retreating figure.  The bolt of power hit him again
and he received it unwillingly, raised to his full height
and hovering for an instant like a bird before crumbling,
broken, to the ground.  Quickly, before he could die, Niari
released the currents that bound him to her and approached
him, ignoring Eldarion's aura of unease.  She could hear the
elf's footsteps behind her.
     She reached the body of Aureliano and kicked it with
her boot.  A sigh escaped his withered body.  Squatting now,
she rolled him over.  His eyes were still open.  "You should
have died," she thought to herself.  "Now, I will truly
avenge the deaths you caused."  Aureliano seemed to hear the
words for his eyes grew large with terror.  Niari clamped a
gory hand on his forehead and pulled as awareness dawned on
his pale face.  Silently, she whispered, "You will not die,
Aureliano.  Death is too good for you and so your Gods will
not come to claim you.  Instead, it is I that will take your
soul..."
     And Aureliano, the servant of Soros, Steward of
Chadwick, screamed.
     When the echoes of that terrible scream had faded,
Niari stood and, clutching her throat where the dagger still
resided, passed Eldarion and made her way back to the
waiting griffon.  The Legentor followed, leaving the husk of
the dead man behind.
---k
     When they reached the griffon, Eldarion reached into
his saddlebag and pulled out the field medical kit each of
the Legentor beasts carried.  He quickly unrolled it upon
the broad back of the griffon, and set out a vial and a few
field dressings.  He looked firmly into Niari's eyes and
said, "I know you are no stranger to combat medical aid, so
ready yourself my friend."
     So saying, Eldarion firmly grasped the handle of the

Status: RO

n reached into
his saddlebag and pulled out the field medical kit each of
the Legentor beasts carried.  He quickly unrolled it upon
the broad back of the griffon, and set out a vial and a few
field dressings.  He looked firmly into Niari's eyes and
said, "I know you are no stranger to combat medical aid, so
ready yourself my friend."
     So saying, Eldarion firmly grasped the handle of the
dagger.  It was truly a wicked blade, with a sharp point for
quick entry when thrown, but serrated edges further back to
rend and tear when removed.  His first thought was to leave
the blade where it was, for someone with greater medical
experience to handle.  But the amount of blood coming from
around the blade was too great, and he knew he had to act
fast.  Eldarion moved the blade back and forth sideways,
then with a wrench, tore the blade from Niari's neck,
tearing some flesh in the process.  A fountain of blood
issued forth in the blade's absence, but Eldarion was ready
with a field dressing and a combat medical spell the
Legentors were all trained to know, one which staved the
flow of blood in an injury.  The bleeding quickly subsided,
and Eldarion was about to tie a fresh dressing about Niari's
neck, when he noticed the greenish-grey gel in her wound. 
He took the vial from the field kit, and poured the contents
into the wound.  He then removed what he could of the gel,
and  placed it in the empty vial, for others with more
experience in such matters to look at.  What Eldarion did
know was that the blade had been poisoned.  He wrapped the
blade in the blood soaked field dressing and stuck it in the
medical kit, should it be needed as well.  He rolled the kit
back up and returned it to the saddlebag.
     Eldarion looked Niari over, and noticed that she had
broken out in a fever during his ministrations, and beads of
sweat dotted her brow.  The poison was in fact affecting
her, and the general anti-toxin he had used only slowed its
effects upon her.  He helped her up onto the griffon, and
mounted behind her.  Niari looked quite feverish.  She
looked as if she wanted to say something, then collapsed
back into his chest.  He held on to her with his free arm,
and quickly took to the air, spurring his griffon forward
with great resolve.  He had to get Niari to someone with
greater medical knowledge....and quickly.
---je
     The last thing she felt was the pain in her chest, the
hot blood quickly cooling as it left her body, and
Eldarion's nearness as he ministered to her wound...then
nothing.
     Finding the gate was easy.  She'd practiced that trick
since she was a novice.  It was navigating the corridors and
twisting pathways that had sometimes proved challenging, but
that was Before.  She followed the hollow shaft of light as
it gently bore her inwards to her sanctuary...and then she
was safe.  Stretching her ethereal body, she looked around. 
The high walls of the greeting chamber were a welcoming
coral color swathed in the soft light of a hundred unseen
candles.  She reached out with a hand and felt the warm
smoothness of the walls, enjoying the feeling as the surface
gave slightly under the pressure of her palms.
     Niari sighed with contentment and pushed away from the
embrace of the chamber, walking out into a hallway filled
with more of the gentle coral light.  She traversed the
corridor with eyes closed, feeling the invisible tendrils of
the place move over her body.  Her armor was removed and
carried away, replaced by a thin veil of white gauze, woven
from thought and dreams.  It too carressed her skin, warming
her, welcoming her home.
     She felt the presence of the newcomer and followed it
like a scent, taking her time and savoring the sweet
sensations the maze offered her.  Turning left and right and
left again, she was drawn deeper into the network of
passages which became thinner and then wider again, always
touching her; guiding her where she willed.  And then, there
was a door before her in this place without doors.  Stepping
through the mock solidity of it, she was swallowed by the
room and left no trace behind.
     Inside the small chamber, she opened her eyes.  The
newcomer was curled up in a fetal position in a far corner,
still trembling, his eyes wide, staring at nothing in
particular with abject horror.  Niari slowly knelt beside
him and regarded him with curiosity.  She wondered what he
would be seeing right now.  There was no way to tell.  It
certainly wouldn't be the safe haven that bowed to her every
whim like an adoring child.  No.  He would be surrounded by
some terrible horde of monsters, about to be eaten by demons
or flayed alive by the talons of some awful nightmarish
beast.  Time to introduce herself. 
     Gently now.  "Hello, Aureliano..."
---k
     He stirred at her words. Turning over on his side he
spied the Kioshu warrior, standing above him, with eyes that
threatened to engulf his ashened face. He screamed, but no
voice could be heard.  Spittle flew from his agaped orifice,
but no sound came forth.  Tonsils wagged in the deep recess
of his opened trap, but naught a tone. Aureliano was a sight
to behold; a man trapped in fear.
     Slowly one of Niari's strong sinewy arms stretched out
to grab hold of the trembling man's shoulder. He recoiled
like a retreating viper.
---ds
     She watched him push himself deeper into the corner of
the chamber, which bowed to house the shape of his body. 
Pulling her hand back, she stood.  Aureliano peered up at
her, his pupils dilated to an unreal fullness.  She would
probably appear to him to be some ancient dragon raising
it's body to douse him in a shower of fire.  Niari laughed
at the thought.  Her?  A dragon?  Having fought one too many
of them was enough for her.  She hoped she'd never see
another of the evil beasts as long as she lived.  She had
barely survived the fight with the Karethirne.  Her souvenir
suit of "scale" armor had been left at home.  No need to
draw undo attention to herself here in the Northern lands.
     Aureliano whimpered...the first sound he had made since
her arrival.  Niari breathed a bit of his fear.  It was
sublime.  Tremors of the man's terror traveled the currents
of her nervous system and cleansed the empty reservoirs of
her holding cells with a tingling sensation akin to
experiencing a winter romp in the snow.  Nothing like an
adrenalin bath to revive you!  Feeling energized, she gazed
at Aureliano and smiled.  The Gods only knew how he
perceived the expression on her face but he paled further. 
Niari was tiring of this place.  There would be plenty of
time to torment the soul of Aureliano later.  She had other
things to do now.  With a flick of her wrist, she ignited
one spark off a fingertip.  It wobbled through the air like
a drunken firefly and landed on the forehead of her
prisoner.  Aureliano's head snapped back and another
voiceless scream echoed off the chamber walls.  With the
memory fresh in her mind's eye, Niari left the room the same
way she had entered.  The door sealed behind her.
     Something was calling her...some part of her was
becoming uneasy in this paradise of her own making.  She
followed the feeling until she came to a nexus of half a
dozen passageways located in the very heart of the coral
maze.  Here, the walls were tinged with a greenish pallor
and the soft light behind the walls pulsed dully to a
sickened beat.  Now, Niari knew why she was here.  She could
taste the poison.  The ichor was attempting to infiltrate
her body.  She must be very ill.  She must be...
---k

     Lorendil was barely able to notice the griffon bearing
Eldarion and Niari returning from their mission of revenge. 
The hectic activity of tending to the people of Chadwick
occupied the whole attention of almost everyone left behind. 
But, the mage made a point to break away and inquire about
the success of Niari's venture.
     As the griffon alighted a safe distance away from the
make-shift hospital, Lorendil walked carefully towards the
warriors.  He stopped cold when he saw what the griffon had
borne.  There was Niari, lying against Eldarion with his
arms around her.  Lorendil was stunned!
     He did not consciously feel jealousy, though
subconsciously it was that which was most dominant.  No,
Lorendil, ever the gentleman, and not fully aware of his
true feelings for Niari, was more aghast that the Legentor
captain would have the gall to make advances on one woman
when he had clearly expressed his feelings for another
(Joreen).  And moreso, that Niari would accept such
advances!  It seemed so entirely out of character for the
Kioshu woman.  A dull hatred began to build in Lorendil's
heart for the elven man.
     It was quickly dashed.  Once the griffon had come to
rest, Eldarion shouted in a booming voice, "I HAVE A WOUNDED
FRIEND HERE!!" as he began to gingerly lift the limp woman
from the steed.  The words pounded in Lorendil's ears, with
one resounding louder and louder, drowning out the others
until it alone was heard:  wounded.  His heart sank while
his mind filled with questions:  How bad?  How did it
happen?  Is she all right?  What can I do to help?
     He quickly dashed to Eldarion's side, and instantly
offered his hand in helping Niari to the ground.  He could
see the field dressing on her neck.  It was already almost
completely red from blood loss.  Looking her over, he could
see that her armor also showed signs of the injury, but
there appeared to be no other wounds on the woman.  His eyes
returned to the dressing, and Eldarion noticed him looking
at it.
     "It's the third one already.  I had cast a spell to try
and stop the blood flow, but the magic does not seem to be
working fully."
     "It must be her Kioshu heritage.  She has told me that
normal magic does not affect her the same way it affects
others."
     Eldarion muttered something that sounded like an elven
curse.  "Then the anti-toxin I gave her may also have
limited effect."
     For the first time since he returned, Lorendil looked
at Eldarion.  "You mean..."
     The Legentor did not answer.  He merely returned
Lorendil's desperate look with a solemn gaze.
     Lorendil's mind began to race even as his heart
continued to sink deeper.  What could he do to help this
woman?  He knew that his magicks would have as limited an
effect on her as did Eldarion's, possibly even worse.  Had
not the teleport from Montfort made her seriously ill?  No,
in her weakened condition, blatant use of spells would be
too dangerous.
     What of Therion?  Would he be able to offer his mind
magic?  But the Strong One was tired...he had been using his
healing powers on his people, and that had drained his
strength.  Niari had so little of her own strength left that
she needed much more than Lorendil thought the Baron could
offer.
     Garrison was disabled, and 'bush' was on a quest to
revive the old wizard.  But would they have even been able
to concoct a remedy for the Kioshu woman at all?  There was
no point contemplating that point, as there was little
chance that it would be available.
     Back to basics...what did Niari need?  Strength. 
Better to give her the strength for her own body to heal
itself than to try a heavy-handed and ill-advised healing
effort of his own.  Somehow, Lorendil had to find a way to
make his magical strength available for Niari to tap into. 
But how?
     His mind still racing, two thoughts came forward almost
simultaneously.  First, he thought of the embrace he had
given her upon Little Dragon's Horn.  There had been sparks
between them when their cheeks had touched.  Could Lorendil
use those sparks to synchronize his magicks to the natural
rhythms of Niari's Kioshu powers?  And second, what of
Essaut?  He was probably the closest of the n'Sete to Niari. 
Would he have some knowledge, consciously or otherwise, of
the currents that flowed within her?
     There was little time to fully explore the questions,
but Lorendil had a plan.  He had no idea if it would work,
but Niari needed help fast, and there was nothing else he
could think of that might have a better chance at success.
     "Fetch Essaut!  QUICKLY!" he ordered.  The man was
already standing behind him, having sensed Niari's injury
upon her return.  The n'Sete stepped forward at his
summoning.
     "Essaut, I want to make my powers available for Niari
to use in her healing, but I do not want to apply them to
her directly.  I think there would be too much risk of
incompatibility.  You are close to her, and I think you
understand her Kioshu powers better than anyone here.  I
want to use you as a conduit and as a buffer.  If I can feel
her drawing power from me, then we can continue.  If I feel
no such drain, then we can look for another mode of
assistance.  Do you understand?"
---m
     "Yes, Lord Lorendil."  Essaut's dark eyes were filled
with concern.  He did not understand Kioshu magic and he
doubted this Northern lord understood it any better.  Still,
he was willing to try anything...
---k
     "Good.  Now, place your hands over her chest, one atop
the other."  Essaut did as Lorendil instructed.  "Now, I
will do the same to you.  Essaut, while I am doing this, I
want your thoughts to be directed exclusively to Niari.  We
must do everything we can to synchronize my magic to her
rhythms.  Concentrate on her!"
---m
     The Plainsman nodded and then shook his head.  He
appeared embarrassed and afraid to speak yet it was obvious
that he had something to say.
     Lorendil could not afford the luxury of time.  "What? 
Speak!"
     "It will not work through armor, Lord Lorendil..."  the
Plainsman shook his head.  "I think I know what you want to
do but it will not work through armor.  You must have
contact with her skin."  Seeing the color creep into
Lorendil's face, Essaut looked back to Niari.  She was so
pale.  Slowly, he began unbuckling her chest plate. 
"Forgive me, s'Ora," he thought, "You would want this, I
think."  He was surprised when Lorendil began helping him. 
Together, they removed enough armor to expose her torso. 
Essaut took his hunting knife, cut through the upper lacings
of her padded tunic, and placed his hands inside the fabric. 
Looking to Lorendil, who swallowed and wrenched his gaze
back to the Plainsman, he said, "Now, it might work."
---k
     Lorendil placed his hands on Essaut's chest, and
concentrated hard on the sparks that had come to life in his
embrace of Niari.  He concentrated on the power, on how it
felt, on how its currents behaved.  Focusing on the nature
of the sparks, he slowly began to release energy into
Essaut.  The man jerked slightly, and Lorendil paused,
adjusting his magic slightly and continuously until the
Plainsman again relaxed.  Then, gradually, slowly, he eased
more power into him, until finally he was holding nothing
back. Niari could now take anything she needed from him.
     Would it work?  He hoped against hope that Niari would
be able to use the power he was offering.  Lorendil held his
breath as he felt to see if any of his magic was being
taken---m and heard Essaut gasp.

     Suddenly Niari was very aware of a group of presences
nearby.  One was Lorendil.  He was very agitated.  The other
presence, a retreating one, was Eldarion.  There were others
but they were further away.  She reached out and felt her
employer.  He was distraught...then she felt the power
coming from Lorendil.  Essaut was with her also, touching
her.  He too was very disturbed.  He was attempting to act
as a conduit for Lorendil's magical.  But why?  Then, there
was a surging of energy and a closeness.  How wonderful! 
She could feel both Essaut and Lorendil very clearly now. 
If she wanted to, she could easily reach up and touch
them...as she did so, she felt Essaut's energy change.  She
felt him open before her, his mind's walls melting like
butter.  She smiled and offered the Plainsman more than he
could have expected.  Suddenly, he was before her in her
sanctuary, staring at her in wonder with the most beautific
expression on his face.  She knew that he was seeing her for
what she was and that, to him, she must seem some sort of
God.  Well, let him see.  A thousand tendrils from the
foundation of the nexus reached out and wrapped around the
image of Essaut, revealing to him the secrets of the Kioshu
Elite.  Niari knew he would never be able to make sense of
the images that flashed before him like memories of his own
life, but he would remember some of the sensations that
filled him and he would remain in awe of the Kioshu woman
for the rest of his days...

     "t'sa Ganat!"  Essaut's eyes were opened as far as they
would go and there were tears on his cheeks.  "It is
so...strange!  I can feel her!  We did not know!"  The
Plainsman's face was an odd medley of pain, joy and awe. 
Slowly, as if in a dream, his eyes sought out Lorendil's and
bound them to his own.  A fierce need to be understood was
carved on his face but the words were so hard to find.  He
sat back on his heels, breaking contact with both Niari and
her would-be healer, the amazement fading slightly from his
features.
     "This is not helping her, Lord Lorendil.  She cannot
take life from the living like this.  Send your power into
the earth and the air around her and she will...absorb...it? 
I think that is the word.  Cover her with your magic and she
will drink it were she is thirsty."  Essaut spoke like one
who had just had communion with his God, smiling calmly
beside the frenzy of the rescue of Chadwick's populace.
     Lorendil, more confused than ever, did as was suggested
and formed a coffin of magic around the unconscious Niari. 
Time passed.  Then, tiny white sparks began to pepper the
air around the wound, growing brighter and more numerous for
serveral moments until they quickly and suddenly dissapated
and were gone.  Essaut, looked to the anxious Lord beside
her.
     "I think she will live..."
---k
     For the first time since Niari's return, Lorendil
relaxed.  He did not ease the magic he was feeding into the
shell around the wounded woman, but a great burden had been
removed from his mind.
---m
     Essaut also relaxed once the words were spoken.  Still
stewing in a kind of dazed amazement, half of his awareness
was informed that he and Lord Lorendil had just saved
Niari's life.  The other half of him didn't quite know what
to think.  He wasn't used to feeling the tiny vibrations of
current that still ran through his body like small wriggling

 Essaut and Lorendil very clearly now. 
Status: RO

If she wanted to, she could easily reach up and touch
them...as she did so, she felt Essaut's energy change.  She
felt him open before her, his mind's walls melting like
butter.  She smiled and offered the Plainsman more than he
could have expected.  Suddenly, he was before her in her
sanctuary, staring at her in wonder with the most beautific
expression on his face.  She knew that he was seeing her for
what she was and that, to him, she must seem some sort of
God.  Well, let him see.  A thousand tendrils from the
foundation of the nexus reached out and wrapped around the
image of Essaut, revealing to him the secrets of the Kioshu
Elite.  Niari knew he would never be able to make sense of
the images that flashed before him like memories of his own
life, but he would remember some of the sensations that
filled him and he would remain in awe of the Kioshu woman
for the rest of his days...

     "t'sa Ganat!"  Essaut's eyes were opened as far as they
would go and there were tears on his cheeks.  "It is
so...strange!  I can feel her!  We did not know!"  The
Plainsman's face was an odd medley of pain, joy and awe. 
Slowly, as if in a dream, his eyes sought out Lorendil's and
bound them to his own.  A fierce need to be understood was
carved on his face but the words were so hard to find.  He
sat back on his heels, breaking contact with both Niari and
her would-be healer, the amazement fading slightly from his
features.
     "This is not helping her, Lord Lorendil.  She cannot
take life from the living like this.  Send your power into
the earth and the air around her and she will...absorb...it? 
I think that is the word.  Cover her with your magic and she
will drink it were she is thirsty."  Essaut spoke like one
who had just had communion with his God, smiling calmly
beside the frenzy of the rescue of Chadwick's populace.
     Lorendil, more confused than ever, did as was suggested
and formed a coffin of magic around the unconscious Niari. 
Time passed.  Then, tiny white sparks began to pepper the
air around the wound, growing brighter and more numerous for
serveral moments until they quickly and suddenly dissapated
and were gone.  Essaut, looked to the anxious Lord beside
her.
     "I think she will live..."
---k
     For the first time since Niari's return, Lorendil
relaxed.  He did not ease the magic he was feeding into the
shell around the wounded woman, but a great burden had been
removed from his mind.
---m
     Essaut also relaxed once the words were spoken.  Still
stewing in a kind of dazed amazement, half of his awareness
was informed that he and Lord Lorendil had just saved
Niari's life.  The other half of him didn't quite know what
to think.  He wasn't used to feeling the tiny vibrations of
current that still ran through his body like small wriggling
parasites.  The feeling was not painful but it was odd and
made it hard for him to concentrate.  Something had happened
to him during his connection to Niari and he would be damned
if he could remember what it was.
     Like a blanket thrown over a fire, the embers of
thought that had burned so brightly moments before were
suddenly cold, forgetful, and dull.  He knew that something
incredible had happened; had infused him with life and
inspiration only to be suddenly snatched away.  He looked
down on the slumbering form of his friend and commander. 
She was bathed in a light which could only be coming from
the man named Lorendil, also looking at her intently with an
expression of concern and ...something else.  Essaut wanted
to call it pain but it seemed more like confusion.  Perhaps
it was a strain to provide Niari with the energy she needed
to heal herself.  The Plainsman sat quietly and waited as
Lorendil continued to feed her his magical strength. 
Despite the fact that the others had filtered inside
Chadwick's walls, he felt his place was here.  Other n'Sete
also milled about outside the walls until Baron Therion

 been
Status: RO

removed from his mind.
---m
     Essaut also relaxed once the words were spoken.  Still
stewing in a kind of dazed amazement, half of his awareness
was informed that he and Lord Lorendil had just saved
Niari's life.  The other half of him didn't quite know what
to think.  He wasn't used to feeling the tiny vibrations of
current that still ran through his body like small wriggling
parasites.  The feeling was not painful but it was odd and
made it hard for him to concentrate.  Something had happened
to him during his connection to Niari and he would be damned
if he could remember what it was.
     Like a blanket thrown over a fire, the embers of
thought that had burned so brightly moments before were
suddenly cold, forgetful, and dull.  He knew that something
incredible had happened; had infused him with life and
inspiration only to be suddenly snatched away.  He looked
down on the slumbering form of his friend and commander. 
She was bathed in a light which could only be coming from
the man named Lorendil, also looking at her intently with an
expression of concern and ...something else.  Essaut wanted
to call it pain but it seemed more like confusion.  Perhaps
it was a strain to provide Niari with the energy she needed
to heal herself.  The Plainsman sat quietly and waited as
Lorendil continued to feed her his magical strength. 
Despite the fact that the others had filtered inside
Chadwick's walls, he felt his place was here.  Other n'Sete
also milled about outside the walls until Baron Therion
practically had to have them dragged inside.  They returned
shortly after being fed (partly out of concern for Niari but
more prominently due to the caged feeling of being inside a
town).
---k
     He stayed by her side for most of the remainder of the
day, tied to the fallen Kioshu by a cord of pure energy. 
Only when he was convinced that Niari had taken all that she
needed to heal herself did he part from her.  When he did,
he also deliberately separated himself from the rest of the
group, refusing all requests to assist in providing aid to
the populace of Chadwick.  There was an issue that he needed
to resolve before he could be of service to anyone...be he
Eldarion, Baron Therion, or even Niari.
---m
     For some reason, the leaving of Lord Lorendil seemed to
be the sign many of the n'Sete had been waiting for as they
quietly and automatically moved to fill in the gap that the
elven Lord had left behind by gathering around their fallen
commander to create a wide circle of Plainsmen.  The
discoloration in Niari's skin had long since dissipated and
the wound itself was visibly closing before their eyes.  A
glance thrown the way of the cut revealed a change nearly
every few minutes.  Soon, there was barely a scar left of
the hideous hole that had dominated her neck hours before. 
Still, Niari slept.  A contented smile playing on her lips
gave her the appearance of a different person than the
hardened battle commander whom they had gotten used to over
the last several days.  Essaut found himself matching her
expression unconsciously.
---k
     Well away from the others, Lorendil found a comfortable
place to sit and did so.  And while his body appeared to be
in peaceful repose, his mind was torn by bitter thoughts
that ripped at his emotions unmercifully.  Lorendil had felt
a great dread and sadness when he saw that Niari had been so
grievously wounded.  And fear.  An intense fear that she
might not survive the blow.  Why?  He had never felt that
way for anyone, save one person.  His beloved Elorolin.  Oh,
how he missed and loved her so dearly!  Even after all these
years, these long, lonely decades that dragged on and on and
on, he still loved her.  And he knew he always would, she
was that important, that special, that dear to him.  And so
what of his reaction concerning Niari?  How could he betray
his feelings, his devotion to Elorolin?  Especially after
the cruel fate that had been dealt to her?  No, clearly what
he had been feeling towards Niari was not compatible with
his previous, more endearing love.  He could not betray her! 
He *would* not betray her!  Clearly, he would have to be
more careful in his dealings with the warrior woman.
     Steeling himself and burying the emotions that had made
such an impromptu and unwelcome showing earlier that day,
Lorendil slowly walked back to the group.  Most had already
moved on into Chadwick proper.  Essaut and the rest of the
plainsmen were still there, surrounding Niari who had not
been moved.  Probably the safest course of action, at least
for the moment.  He considered joining the vigil over her,
but decided better of it.  He trudged slowly towards town,
and the only center of activity that could be seen within. 
He knew that there was where the others would be.  Fighting
every urge to do so, Lorendil stubbornly refused to look
back as he made his way into the village.  Try as he might
to control his emotions, a lone tear managed to free itself
and drop lazily down his cheek.  It had dried completely by
the time he arrived with the others.
---m
     As the Plainsmen continued their vigil, Essaut noticed
Bellatrix beginning to descend.  In a few hours it would be
dark.  He prayed that Niari would be waking up soon.  He
didn't want to risk moving her until he could be certain
that it would not harm her further.  Who knew what kind of
healing she still needed inside...

     Niari watched as the green left the walls of her
sanctuary.  "Thank you, Lorendil."  She said, knowing he
could not hear her.  Feeling safe again, she left the nexus
and went exploring.  This place had changed so much since
she had been here last...
     Niari had left the nexus feeling very good about the
world.  This place always filled her with a sense of lazy
contentment and she roamed the coral corridors with a
whimsical stride, the fingers of the hallways pushing her
gently through turns until she reached a bend that was
disfigured and burned by some outside force.  Reaching out,
she touched the roughness in wonderment.  Her physical body
appeared to be damaged.  Well, that certainly wouldn't do. 
Running her fingers over the surface of the wound, she
loosed a wave of energy into the charred area.  Awakened to
the crisis, healing tendrils began to weave healthy fibers
in among the destroyed ones and within a matter of moments,
the damage was lessened considerably. 
     She watched the process until it amused her no longer
and continued on her way, guided by the corridors themselves
to a wide opening from which curious shadows beckoned to the
traveller.  Niari hesitated.  Knowledge of this place
ignited a spark in the back of her mind; faint but clear. 
She stepped inside and was lost in the size of the chamber. 
It's high ceiling was too high to fathom and it's walls
hovered at the very edge of her vision, so hazy they might
not have really been there.  Even the floor seemed distant. 
She took a few tentative steps to ensure the fact that it
was.
     Suddenly, a gargantuan shape rose out of the shadows in
the chamber, it's massive head perched atop a thick arch of
irridescent crimson scales, each the size of a grown man's
head.  Pearled horns marked it's spine from the crest of
it's head all the way to the tip of it's tail, which
culminated in a wicked scorpion-like stingclaw.  It's black
wings unfurled to absorb all light above and the tips of
it's sharp claws were frightening constellations poised to
strike by it's mighty breast.  As the beast moved closer to
her, spiraling in a mesmerizing motion, it made no sound
save for the hissing of the forked tongue that flicked in
and out of it's gigantic mouth, running over the rows upon
rows of teeth that laid there.
     She held up one hand and the monstrous head pushed into
it, rubbing it's scales back and forth on her tiny palm like
a kitten.  "We missed you, Captain.  You've been away for
so-o-o-o-o long..." the dragon's voice poured into the
chamber like sweet honey, as hypnotic as the slow movement
of it's huge serpentine body.  "What is your desire?"  It's
enormous almond-shaped yellow eyes focused on her adoringly. 
"You would like to see the stone towers of Kioshu perhaps? 
Or return to the glorious battles of your illustrious
youth?"
     Niari smiled dangerously, "Now, now, Kare!  I'm still
about a thousand years younger than you!  My life has just
begun..."
     "And ours is over...," finished the Karethirne, with a
lilting sadness in it's rich, deep voice.  "Not that we mind
being the caretaker of this place.  But we do wish you would
visit us more often.   We are so-o-o-o-o lonely."
     "I will try,"  Niari promised, running her nails over a
scaled ear. 
     "Mmmmmmm...that's the spot."  The dragon sighed, "What
are your plans for the newcomer, Captain?  Is he to stay in
that little room forever or will you give him to us-s-s-s?"
     "No, I'm sorry.  I have special plans for that one.  He
is not for you."
     "We are intriguiged!" said the Karethirne and waited
for Niari to continue.  When she did not, the great beast
tactfully changed the subject.  "So-o-o-o-o....what is your
desire today?"
     "Today, Kare," she smiled into the amber eyes of the
creature that curled around her as a mother cradles an
infant, "Today, I would see my Ebirth...I felt the essence
of it earlier when I was nursed by two companions.  They
made me long to be there again."
     "Aaaahhh, ye-e-es-s-s-s...Essaut and Lorendil-l-l-l,"
breathed her listener.  Niari heard the names as the dream
waves took her and transported her back two years to a
secret cavern deep under the city-state of Kioshu.  As she
drifted, she heard the Karethirne whisper, "Beware of the
elven Lord, Captain, he is not all that he seems...and I
would know."
     The words floated down to her as she sank into the
depths of the dream.  They touched her cheek like a strand
of hair and she reached up to brush them away... 
     It was a little over two years ago.  A twenty-five-
year-old Captain Kessirac Niari, traveled the twisted dirt
road that snaked through the jagged mountains and green
valleys that were the southern city-state of Kioshu.  She
was an observer, bound inside the body of her younger self,
watching the mountainous rocks and sagas trees fall behind
her one by one as she swiftly walked towards home.  Slung
over her left shoulder was a bloodied trophy of the victory
that would change her life forever.  She had done it; passed
the last test and defeated the Karethirne with nothing but
her sword, wits, and the fledgling abilities that they had
shown her how to use.  Now, the strange group of old men who
called themselves =F4Des Cirke let Elde=F6 would come for her. 
After all the years of fleeting glimpses of dove-grey robes
which only she seemed to see and the odd coincidences that
grew in number as her own unexplainable abilities grew
stronger and harder to hide, now this secret society would
come to claim her as they'd promised in her dreams.  The
last several seasons of peace had eaten at her.  The
wonderments of court life had long since ceased to dazzle
her.  She missed her brother.  She missed her father.
     Bright light flashed before her eyes and the dreamscape
changed.  She was standing on the balcony of her little room
in the east tower of Denhei Kioshu.  It was waning twilight
and Bellatrix was little more than a violet halo adorning
the mountain peaks.  A gentle, hot breeze wafted up to her
from the valley below and touched her body, draped only in a
blood-colored shift.  They had specified the color and she
had not questioned.  Her thick black hair was plaited in a
straight braid that tickled the small of her back with its
tip.  Her grey eyes scanned the sky restlessly.  There was
something on the wind tonight...or was it her own
anticipation tricking her?
     A dry hand touched her shoulder and she immediately
stifled the urge to whirl around and strike at its owner. 
She didn't like being surprised and her deeply ingrained
warrior training was hard to counter.  Slowly and
deliberately she turned as the hand slipped away.  One of
Des Elde stood behind her in dove-grey robes, his silver
eyes penetrating her mind easily with their intensity. 
Niari swallowed and he handed her a wooden cup which he had
not held a moment ago.  The dark liquid inside steamed in
the already warm air.  As she lifted the cup to her lips,
the bitter tang of cellar-grown herbs asaulted her sense of
smell.  Ignoring it defiantly, she quaffed the drink in one
gulp and immediately lost consciousness.
     When she awoke, it was instantaneous and complete.  At
this moment, she was more conscious than she had ever been. 
The cold stone altar on which she lay was dully painful. 
She touched it in they way that they had shown her and was
surprised to find that it held no life.  Everything had some
small bit of life.  They had taught her that and shown her
how to feel it.  This was very strange.  She sat up on the
slab and surveyed the circular stone chamber that was, for
the moment, her prison, noting that she still wore the blood
shift.  This chamber had no doors, no windows and yet, here
she was...seeing everything without light.  She gasped
slightly as the realization sunk in that she was in complete
darkness.  Somehow, she could see the edges of the large
stones that formed the walls and could almost taste the
light sheen of water that beaded on the cold surface.  She
also noticed, in an instant of panic, the eleven robed
figures that encircled her with their backs against the
walls, as if they had been there all along and had simply
been out of focus.  But they had not been there!  She was
sure of it!
     Taking a deep breath, she calmed the nerves that
jangled excitedly inside her.  Why didn't they speak?  The
shapes just hovered there, deep in some kind of trance, or
purposefully tormenting her; determined to drive her insane. 
No.  This was not the way it was going to be.
     "I would have some answers..." she demanded, her voice
as dry as a desert.  One of the robed figures raised it's
head and leveled it's awful gaze upon her.  The eyes, buried
deep in his hairless, angluar skull, shone with an inner
light.  The power radiating from the old man was stunning. 
He didn't even seem human.
     "I suppose you could say that, Kessirac Niari," came a
Voice in answer to her thoughts.  "And soon you will join
us."  His eyes narrowed but the light in his eyes became a
focused beam, burrowing into her skin.  Niari found that she
could not look away.  The Voice continued with all the force
of a hurricane and the power of lightning.  "You are
Kessirac Niari, daughter of General Kessirac Adze and Lady
Oric Sireni of the Twenty-Second House let Sildinsel..." the
Voice continued to speak, reciting name after name until she
ceased to recognize them anymore.  It seemed that hours had
passed before the list had ended but each name was firmly
grasped by Niari's drug-wakened mind and locked into the
cells of her brain.  "...Kesire M'Seriden of the First House
let Orintem.  These are your ancestors, hand chosen by Des
Cirke let Elde to breed one Elite.  That Elite is you.  You
are the only remaining member of your family because the
others were sacrified that you might be Eborn this night
into a new life.  Now, you will learn what it means to
become Elite!"
     A talon...no, a hand, withered and gnarled by an
impossible length of time, shot out of the robe and found
purchase on Niari's skull.  The hand gripped her forehead as
if it was the last handhold on a sheer cliff.  Shocked by
the pressure, Niari felt her head pushed back and a warm
liquid poured into her mouth.  It was thick and salty and
spiced with....  She held the mouthful, unsure of it's
nature, until unkind fingers pinched her nose and she was
forced to swallow or suffocate.  Now the treatment became
rougher as the warrior was bent into supplication.  More of
the potion was fed her until she felt she could drink no
more.  And there were noises; the sound of a knife being
unsheathed, a man=C6s cry in pain, the movement of cloth; all
of it echoing off the wet stone walls until it became a
cacophony of sound.  What was happening to her?  Her arms
would not move.  Nor would her legs.  She felt bony fingers
poking her and where they touched, there was a warmth and a
tingling.  More of the stuff came.  She would die soon, she
thought.  They were going to kill her with this poisonous
liquid! 
     And then it was over.  The hands holding back her head
relaxed and released their grip.  Slowly and stiffly, she
brought her body forward and looked around her.  Ten of the
eleven figures had collapsed into a pool of dark blood. 
There were huge cuts in their wrists and throats.  Their
faces were the powdery shade of death and their yellow eyes
stared towards the ceiling unblinking.  The one still
standing was staring at her, his feverish eyes shining
brightly.  He held a sacrificial dagger, stained with blood. 
His own wrists had been opened and they still pulsed
burgundy rivulets down his arms and into his robes.  Terror
gripped her.  What had they done to her?  Now she felt the
dampness that drenched her shift and soaked her skin.  Now
that it was too late, she knew what potion filled her belly.
     As the Voice came again, a shudder of electricity
ripped through her body but she was too much in shock to cry
out.   "Now, we wait and see."
     She watched as the soul fled that one remaining priest. 
He fell, his eyes still locked upon her own as if witnessing
some great miracle.  The dagger fell from his hand and
splashed with a sick sound into a circle of blood that
pooled in the back of a robed figure.  Now she was alone in
this chamber.  Eleven dead bodies carpeted the stone floor.
     Niari began to cry for the first time that she could
remember.  Tears slid slowly down the sides of her face,
leaving wet lines through the patches of drying blood.  Her
stomach ached and her head felt as thick as a rock, but she
was sure that rocks didn't throb like her head did.  The
idea of moving did not even cross her mind.  It was all she
could do just to stay where she was; kneeling on the altar,
her body resting on its heels, hands by her sides.  She
wanted to curl up in a corner and sleep forever.  So very
tired.  By the Gods, her stomach hurt!  It began churning
rebelliously, threatening to dispell it's awful contents but
Niari couldn't find the strength to bend over and let
gravity work its magic.  She was stuck in this position
until whatever was happening to her was done.  She almost
wished the Voice would speak again so she would have
something other than her belly to focus on.
     "And what would you have us say, Kessirac Niari?" came
the Voice, so steady and heavy, like the droning of a
hundred hives of bees it swarmed around her and through her. 
It seemed even louder now and more pervasive.  She wanted to
respond, to beg for death.  She had drunk the blood of
eleven men!  =F4Say *anything*,=F6 her mind screamed.  =F4Tell me
this is all a dream and I've finally eaten too much basla
like my father warned me about for years!=F6
     "And lie to you?"  The Voice swam through her; through
the blood that travelled the veins and arteries of her body;
through her muscles like a dry heat; through her mind like a
song of love, sweet and warm like the basla her sister used
to make...  "What you are feeling is the Ebirth.  Soon you
will be one of us and we will come for you."  Niari=C6s mind
almost exploded from the amount of questions that were
pounding on her skull.  "Our advice would be to find a
peaceful place in your mind and stay there until the pain of
the transformation is gone." 
     =F4No!  I want to know what you're doing to me!  I am the
daughter of Kessirac Adze!  I will not be treated this way! 
I will find you and I will kill you!=F6 Niari thought in
defiance.  The Voice actually laughed and the sound was like
a flock of birds taking flight.  "I doubt you will be able
to do that, but you are welcome to try!"
     A spasm of pain knifed through her body and she almost
lept off the slab of stone as the agony of the moment
quickly retrained her muscles how to move.  The drugs they'd
used must be wearing off.  Yes!  She was still terribly
dizzy but she could feel the dampness in the air.  Much to
her dismay, she could also smell the bodies and the blood
that stained this chamber, worse than any week-old field of
battle.  Her nose wrinkled at the stench and a another stab
of pain rocked her back on her heels.  It was stronger and
sharper than the first.  In that second, she almost wished
the drugs they'd given her had been stronger.   The third
pain struck and she fell prone on the slab, her body
clenched as taught as a drawn crossbow.  She remembered that
women in childbirth often cried out as if they were being
torn apart.  Now, she could sympathize!  Again the pain came
and she realized that her stomach was not as swollen.  The
blood must be being absorbed by her body.  Was this what
caused the pain?  It came again.  By the Gods!  This was
worse than anything she had ever felt.  If she could only
survive this, she'd never flinch at a sword wound again even
if she was run through with Lord Questrille's own lance!
     Niari groaned and took a deep breath before the pain
came again.  Grabbing hold of the bottom of her shift, she
tore off the bottom few inches, rolled the cloth and stuck
it in her mouth just in time to bite down when the pain
struck.  At least it gave her something to concentrate on. 
Reaching over the edge of the altar, she palpated the stone
for a switch or a latch of anything.  There had to be a way
out of here.  There was nothing.  Stab.  This was just too
much!  She tried shifting her weight on the slab hoping she
could affect a hidden lever.  The stone didn't budge.  Stab. 
Niari fell, gasping, back on the stone.  Any more of this
and she was going to pass out...
     She awoke to a strange sound.  The pain seemed to be
gone and she was lying on something soft.  It was like
nothing she had ever felt...silk?  No, it was softer.  And
the air smelled smoky but not overly so.  It was sweet
really, and comforting.  Niari opened her eyes slowly and
found herself looking into the face of the most handsome man
she had ever seen.  "Striking=F6, =F4beautiful=F6, =F4terrible=F6,
=F4inspiring" were all words that she could have used to
describe him but none were adequate to the task.  Soft
golden curls framed an alabaster face carved with all the
skill of a God-gifted artist.  His blue eyes shone like
stars beneath long dark lashes and his child-like lips and
cheeks were as pink like a freshly picked rose petal.  As
her gaze continued to travel the lines of his well-muscled
body, she could find no fault with any part of
him.  He was anatomically perfect.  How kind of him not to
have worn anything that would have impeded the course of her
vision.
     He laughed.  Even his laugh was beautiful.  As his lips
formed words, she heard the Voice again.  "Welcome to your
new life, Kessirac Niari."  Him?  *Him?*  Niari's eyes
widened.  *This* was the bastard that had almost killed
her...made her drink...  With a roar, she leapt on him like
a lioness, knocking him off the bed and pinning him to the
floor in one quick motion, her hands at his throat.
     "I should kill you right now!"  She was surprised at
the sound of her own voice.  It sounded different; fuller
and richer.  She shook her head and fixed an angry gaze upon
the man beneath her, fully intending to take his life once
he had told her all she needed to know.
     His bright eyes flashed and she was thrown, up and off
of her captive by an unseen force, to the far wall where she
stuck like an insect in a spider's web.  He stood slowly. 
"You shouldn't have done that," he said, his Voice taking on
an egde of irritation.  "I am much older and much stronger
than you."  He came up close to her and held her face with
one hand, looking her in the eyes.  She felt a swimming
feeling come over her.  He was so close to her.  Her
breathing quickened to match her pulse which raced like a
band of wild horses.  She was beginning to feel drugged
again but she maintained her aire of defiance until he
laughed his beautiful laugh again and released her from the
wall.
     "Come and sit with me.  You have many questions and I
have much to teach you."
     "ENOUGH!"  Niari cried and reached out for the
Karethirne which pulled her quickly from the dream.  She was
in the Chamber of Memories again, wrapped in the embrace of
the guardian she had killed and placed there.
     "You have had enough, sweetling?" cooed the dragon. 
"Then, stay with us-s-s-s a while and sleep.  Your body is-
s-s-s-s almost healed and you'll be leaving us soon for the
outer world.  Pleas-s-s-s-e?"  It's soothing voice was
nectar to her ears and she felt her body relax almost
instantly.
     "Very well, for a little while," Niari answered.

     Niari opened her eyes.  Essaut and several of the other
n'Sete tribesmen were kneeling around her in a loose circle. 
For some reason, she was lying on the ground, her breast
plate missing.  They all looked to be deep in meditation. 
She grinned.
     "By the Gods, I'm hungry!" she said loudly.  Essaut's
lids flew open and a bright smile appeared on his tanned
face.
     "You live!"  he said, stating the obvious, as the other
Plainsmen joined him in raising a cheer and helping the
warrior woman to her feet.  Her muscles were rather stiff
from lying on the cold earth and movement was a bit of an
effort.  Her back was killing her.
     "And you're as observant as ever," grumbled Niari in
mock irritation.  She clapped him on the back and winced as
her shoulder protested the action.  "Ugh, it still hurts a
bit," she murmered.
     "Good," grinned Essaut wickedly.  "Maybe it will remind
you not to claim all the glory for yourself next time...."
     Niari flashed him a warning look.  "Sometimes, my
friend....sometimes!" she growled.
     They brought her through the gates of Castle Chadwick
and directly to the kitchens, knowing full well that their
commander would have to be fed before she would entertain
any further course of action.  She sat herself on a stool
near the fireplace and stretched while Essaut gave
instructions to the cook.  No formal dinner had taken place
so the staff had been kept busy filling a variety of
different orders from various parts of the keep.  There had
been an army to feed...literally!  Too hungry to wait, she
plucked an apple from the barrel near the hearth and waved
the other Plainsmen away, some of whom were still hovering
about for orders.
     "Go relax," she barked, "You're making me edgy.  I'm
sure you can  find something to do in a place this big. 
Just stay together in case you are needed.  Tell the others,
we will leave for your ne'arhu as soon as the Baron has
given us his leave."  They left grudgingly, not comfortable
inside the walls of a keep.  She sincerely doubted they
would stay the night and expected to find them camping in
the fields of some poor farmer before nightfall.  She
wondered if she shouldn't warn the Baron...but then, dinner
arrived and the matter was left to fate.
     As she munched happily on roasted pheasant, fresh bread
and crisp apples, Niari couldn't help but notice that Essaut
was staring at her from across the table.  "Something on
your mind, my friend?" she said between bites.
     Essaut's voice was low.  "I was afraid for you, s'Ora. 
When you came back to us, wounded so badly...." 
     "Yes, I know," she responded.  "I also know what you
did...you and Lord Lorendil.  I saw everything."  She
fingered her torn shirt, the front of which was now an open
"v" where the lacings had been sliced through.
     Essaut smiled weakly, "I did what I had to do.  The
elven Lord wanted to cast his Magic through the metal but I
told him..." 
     "I know," she said, cutting him off.  "And I'd like my
armor back, if you don't mind.  I don't like being without
it," and returned her attention to the pheasant. 
     Essaut's eyes travelled down to the opening in her
shirt, which revealed the line of skin where
her...uh...well, what did she expect?  She had been dying
and he'd needed to get to her fast!  Sometimes she could be
very unreasonable, he thought to himself crossly.  Still,
the view served to remind him, and not subtly, that she was
a woman.  He felt the color creep into his face at about the
same time that he saw the corners of her mouth slowly curl
upwards.
     "You Kiohsu n'ehseh!" he roared in laughter.  Niari was
laughing too.
     "Did you really think I was angry with you, my friend?"
she said, her eyes full of merriment.  It was fun to tease
the Plainsman and he deserved it after his earlier comment
about her hogging all the "glory".  Let him try being knifed
through the throat and see how he liked it!
     Afterwards, Niari was shown to her room.  It was a
large, square chamber at the end of a long hall of dark
wooden doors, lit by wall sconces that burned brightly with
several candles each.  Inside, a fire had been lit in the
fireplace and a huge down-filled canopy bed framed by red
hardwood rested against the wall oppposite of it.  A hot
bath steamed in the corner and towels were stacked on the
floor nearby.  This was quickly taken advantage of.  The
steaming water felt wonderful and reminded her of home. 
This room reminded her of Kioshu in a way, except that here
she had no balcony overlooking the valley.  Instead, there
were three windows, one of which was cracked open to allow
some of the night air to sneak in.  All in all, it was more
luxury than she'd seen in a long time right down to the
thick woven rug on the floor.
     After soaking for at least a half-hour, Niari dried off
and inspected the rest of the room.  There were some
portraits on the walls and a set of horns above the
fireplace.  Water and wooden goblets had been placed on the
mantle peice along with a small bowl of fruit, mostly grapes
and apples.  In a closet hung several dresses and night
shifts as befit a lady of rank.  Niari rolled her eyes and
picked out one that wasn't too frilly and slipped it on.  It
was a fine woven fabric and felt good against her skin.
     She crawled into the expanse of soft bedding and sat
watching the fire die for some time before sleep took her
again to the Chamber of Dreams.