The Order of the Dark Flame: Book 5. (story, no spam)

[Mysteria]

For a long moment, they stood in silence, each of them trying to figure out how to lure a single drow away from the group.

The strangest thoughts crossed Mysteria's mind, involving stranger and stranger ingredients ... cheese, wine, mice, cats, dogs, trees, lights, torches, fire, rotten eggs, tornados, spoons, chests, doors, figs ...

At that, she smiled, fondly remembering how Juilin always said: 'I can make the toughest man confess just by sending for figs and mice'

'Figs and mice?', she had asked, 'What would one do with figs and mice?'

'I don't know', he had replied, 'but he'd confess anyway, to escape his own imagination.', he had grinned wickedly.

She shook herself, that wasn't helping, and the Wheel of Time was turning, seconds trickling away and turning into minutes ...

[Gwalchmai]

“Something awaits us… us… us… us.. us.. us. us. sssss.” The voice echoed loudly through the acoustically-designed tunnel to sound amplified in the cavern where the Drow and Orcs waited, instantly alerted. The sound continued, diminished but clear, down the other tunnel to fall upon a mixture of human, half-elven, elven, and feline ears.

“That’s The Simbul!” Thantor exclaimed.

“Where did that come from? Where is she?” the others began asking.

“Everybody! Shut up!” Aqua-Chan hissed, “Please?” She crept down the tunnel a few steps, her ears swiveling atop her head, triangulating on sounds and pricking as she heard additional, hushed voices. “Your friends are in a tunnel on the other side of the cavern before us.” she translated as she relayed the information back, “they are walking into a trap – it may already be too late. Three Drow Assassins have been dispatched to engage them and draw them into the cavern. Five Orcish Warriors and four Drow Weapons Masters are taking positions in the cavern with instructions to kill all who enter. The three Drow clerics are chanting empowering protective spells. That’s fifteen total.” She looked back at the party dubiously.

Nippy blinked. “They don’t know we’re here! We have an advantage!”

“And we must save our friends.” Thantor intoned. T’lainya was already Blessing the party.

A plan was quickly conceived. The Rangers and the Monk would hide in the shadows and proceed to the cavern first, followed by the silent Aqua-Chan. The warriors would go as soon as the enemy was engaged. The remaining would lend their support from the rear. Gwalchmai looked at the faces his friends and felt his heart beating fast. He hoped that they could provide enough distraction to prevent the assassins from causing any serious damage to his friends on the other side.

[Nippy]

Nippy's heart raced as the thought of battle nearly took him. He breathed deeply and recovered, dropping the adrenalin, now was no time to be rash and uncareful. "More haste, less speed intoned Nippy..."

"As soon as I get in there, I'm gonna start some Paladinic smiting. I've had enough of all this darkness!"

[Gwalchmai]

“What do you mean, ‘something awaits us’?” Dragon Wench said peevishly as she tried to disentangle her hair from Vivien’s mouth.

Simbul rounded on Dragon Wench with a urgent look, “This is a trap. We must prepare…” Suddenly she let out a small gasp, and looked down to see the hilt of a vile black dagger protruding from her side. In the same instant, several contingency spells fired. The stone at the Simbul’s feet suddenly became liquid, and rose up around her in a great monolith of imperviability. The stone remained so for an instant, then settled down, layer upon layer, to form a second protective skin around her body. Simultaneously, the tunnel was lit in a violent white light, revealing and blinding two formerly invisible assassins that had been bearing down on Yshania and Vivien. The third assassin, the one who had attacked Simbul, found himself blinded as well, but also encased in a Resilient Sphere.

Simbul grimaced, and pulled the dagger from her side. As she staunched the blood flow with her hand, an ethereal blue light shone. When she removed her hand, her skin was revealed to be unmarked – the only sign of damage was that another tear was evident in her ragged clothing. She looked at the helpless assassin with a simmering anger that made him cower. “You, I will deal with in my own good time.”

[Gwalchmai]

On the other side of the cavern, Thantor led Nippy and Mysteria toward the rocky opening. Aegis limped along, trailing behind. Hidden, they peeked into the cavern and assessed the situation as best as they could. Two priests were visible to the right. Directly ahead, a clot of Orc and Drow warriors occupied the center of the cavern. Silently, Thantor indicated to Mysteria that she should use her bow against the clerics, while he and Nippy were to attack the warriors. Nodded agreements, then Thantor unhooked his twin maces from his belt. He rose, steped forward, and …

He heard a click. Recognition resonated in the pit of his stomach. A pressure pad beneath his foot had been depressed sufficiently to release a torrent of acid down upon him. “Damnit!” he said through lips already blistering and burning. Wounded, he slumped to one side. Nippy looked at him questioningly. But a quick self assessment told Thantor that he would survive, so he smiled as he wiped the greenish, stinging goo off his face.

But, their positions had been revealed. The clerics began chanting additional spells, as the orcs were dispatched to engage the new enemy. Thantor said, “Go! Go now!” then quickly cast Regeneration on himself. Mysteria ran past him and took up a high position in the rock, her first arrow perfectly timed to disrupt one of the cleric’s spells.

Nippy ran headlong to meet the Orcish warriors. With a mighty leap, he swung his foot in a deadly arc. There was so much power in this one kick that the orc’s head would surely explode from its body. Instead, Nippy’s foot connected, the Orc’s head rocked back, then…. nothing. The Orc grinned and offered a silent thanks to the protective and enhancing spells the priests had earlier chanted. It raised its halberd high.

[Gwalchmai]

The sounds of battle echoed down the tunnel. “Its time,” T’lainya said. With snarl, Aqua-Chan was already gone. Farscape shouted a battle cry and ran, his armor jingling and crashing about his body with every stride. He quickly passed up Aegis, who was only just arriving to pepper the battlefield with more arrows. Gwalchmai’s Ironskins in place, he arrived on the battlefield and knew their only hope would be if they brought all their power to bear, together. To make the mage’s spells more effective, the Drow’s natural resistances would have to be lowered. “Doom, Doom, Doom,” he chanted over and over.

[dragon wench]

The small group had not been anticipating this encounter with Drow. Yshania had been considering new and improved methods of torture for any creature unfortunate enough to get in their way, Dragon Wench had been contemplating Simbul's advice, and Vivien had been thinking of more peaceful times when she would be able to settle down and adopt a large variety of small, fluffy animals.

Wholly preoccupied with such pleasant thoughts and anxious to escape the tunnels, Viv decided to address their situation. A brilliant spark of light suddenly illuminated the cavern, and in its wake, instead of a drow assassin poised to attack, there crouched a small, white bunny. Whiskers quivering, pink nose nervously snuffling it looked beseechingly up at Viv.....obviously hoping that she had at least one or two lettuce leaves stored away in the folds of her pack.

[dragon wench]

Perhaps it was the sheer absurdity of the situation.....Simbul's effortless handling of the Drow assasin.....Vivien's transformation of the Drow into a helpless rabbit..... but like a deluge the realities of her life came crashing down.

Her periods of berserker rage...her brief moments of controlled calm had evaporated.

Driven by a resolute recklessness Dragon Wench stepped out into the very centre of the now raging battle. It did not take long for her to find what she was seeking....nearly instantly another Drow appeared and swiftly engaged her in combat. He did not realise that the coldness of his eyes, the twisted evil of his smile....offered a refuge too long denied. Numbly she looked at him.....begged him...her sword not even unsheathed. Confused, he gazed back.....and then the moment passed. The Drow drew his blade....and plunged.

Blackness began to engulf her....and she opened to it finding peace within its arms....as she once had in Jerren's......

A whirling.... a flashing of scimitars sounded nearby.....and with stunned shock the Drow fell. Through her haze of pain Dragon Wench felt a potion pressed to her mouth..... She struggled....and tried with her remaining strength to fight against the healing liquid..... knowing that its magic could never touch the lacerations deep within...... Even as the few drops that she had swallowed began to erase the effects of the mortal wound in her abdomen....she continued to resist...longing instead to embrace the sanctuary of death.

"No, you can't do this..." came the pleading whisper at her side.

[Mysteria]

"You won't summon any filthy undead! You won't!", Mysteria wildly shouted, firing more arrows at the drow cleric. Her first shot had been very lucky, hitting her opponent before he had had the time to get any protections up.

Another arrow found his mark, burying itself deep in the drow's chest, the pain too much even for him to heal himself. Slowly, he toppled forward, but she did not wait to see him hit the ground.

In an instant, she focused on her next target, the sudden light from a side-tunnel helping her aim, revealing her friends joining battle, but where had that light come from? More enemies ...? Then they would be hard put to see this through ... but she would fight to the bitter end. With a snarl on her face, she let her arrow home onto an orc, catching it straight in the back, then aimed at another figure ... what?!?

Dragon Wench! What was she ...? NO!, Mysteria screamed silently as the warrior just let herself be attacked, embracing the dark blade ...

NO!, suddenly, stones went flying through the air, pelting friend and foe alike, sending herself sprawling on the floor as the rock outcrop on which she had been standing heaved and swayed ...

Trying to catch her breath, she struggled onto all fours, her first thought being to look after Dragon Wench, but she only caught a glimpse of the fierce warrior and a figure helping her before a sneering orc brandishing a nasty axe called for all her attention with Fang nowhere in sight ...

[Gwalchmai]

The battle raged. Bloodstalker avoided the crackle of magic that zinged across the room, almost randomly, and went toe-to-toe against an unusually large Drow Weapons Master. Farscape yelled and laughed, swinging his axe. Nippy alternated his battle cries between “Hiiiiiii-ya!” and “Torm take you!” Gwalchmai finished saying his third Doom spell, and considered his next move.

He watched as Dragon Wench ran into the cavern and was immediately confronted by a foe. What magical trick did she have planned that would require her to stand weak-knee-ed before the killer with her arms held open? Then he saw the pleading look on her face, and Gwalchmai knew that she had no trick, her sword would not be drawn. In an instant, the Drow took his gifted opportunity and thrust his sword deep into her belly. Eviscerated, Dragon Wench collapsed to the ground as the laughing Drow unsheathed his sword from her gut. Crimson blood spattered the ground.

Vengeance came in the form of two scimitars, furiously slicing and beating the Drow back from Dragon Wench’s fallen form. Against the odds, Yshania forced the warrior back, surprising him with her strength. Then, in a practiced, calculated move, Yshania sheathed her on-hand sword, performed a complicated movement with her hand, and produced a Chromatic Orb that shot from her hand into the face of the Drow. Startled, hurt, and blinded, the Drow staggered away.

Yshania quickly bent to her friend and forced the contents of a small vile into the weakly resisting Dragon Wench.

When Gwalchmai had first met Dragon Wench over a year ago, he was impressed by how powerful and self-assured she was. She had worn her scars like armor, but had permitted them to become mere facets of her past. He knew that it had been a long struggle for her to come to grips with her loss. But she had begun to live her life again, to laugh, to have friends, to care about the world around her. She had even come to terms with her lover’s unwilling killer, Jennabard, and considered her to be a good friend. The pain and sadness were always lurking there behind her eyes, but the wounds had healed stronger than before.

Gwalchmai remembered the look on her face when Jerren was suddenly returned to her. She looked confused, almost frightened, yet her heart threatened to fly from her chest. It was not possible for one who had been beyond resurrection for so long to suddenly be alive again, yet her hands and his breath told a different story. The years of grief and anger and hard-fought-for healing were reluctant to be washed away in an instant. Was all that effort a mere waste? Yet her head told her that she should be joyous, that things should be as they had been, that they could make up for lost time.

For a few short weeks, Dragon Wench gave into that joy. Then, suddenly, Jerren was gone again, with no apparent explanation. The joyous path had been easy, but the prospect of the slow fight to heal old wounds now open and fresh again was truly daunting. This time, the denial, anger, blame, loss, and acceptance didn’t wash over her in the orderly fashion of simple grief. This time, the feelings arose simultaneously and with a discordant violence that left her a shell of the powerful woman she had once been.

Gwalchmai loved his friend with all his heart, though he shook with rage at her stupidity. She had given in to the illusion of love with a dead man, and that weakness had transformed her now into a head-case. She was as addicted to self-loathing as any junkie was to Black Lotus. To see her suicide herself on the battlefield, abandoning her friends to risk, proved to him that this was not the woman she was meant to be. Her balance was so far skewed that Gwalchmai was not sure she could be saved.

Jerren was to blame, that much was clear. The man was dead, and his new life defied All That Was Natural. Normally, Gwalchmai tried to revere all life, but Jerren was clearly not a part of the Balance. No one could blame him if Death was to be served by a druids hand this time. Without a qualm and through gritted teeth, Gwalchmai swore that he would put an end to Jerren’s stolen life if he ever saw him again.

[Aegis]

Aegis opted not to use his bow for this battle, feeling that his blade would be needed more in the thick of the melee. He ran in along side the rest of the Dark Flames, Sun Fang held tightly in his grip. His limp seemed to have dissappeared, at least was hidden well by the stoic elven ranger. He slowly took the lead, his nimble legs carrying him into the fight qucikly. As the first drow came up to confront his elven counter-part, Aegis braced his foot ahead of him, and kicked up with his back foot. Without slowing his momentum, he spun his body swiftly in the air, slashing his blade in a vicious arc in the process, a deadly top. The drow lunged at the elf, not realizing the cunnning of the attack, and missed the spinning elf completly. As he was about to turn and follow through, the fine magical blade of the ranger had completed the circuit, and had found itself in the dark elf's back. Aegis landed nimbly on his feet, barely stopping to regroup. The rest of the Dark Flames were now present, and the sound of clashing steel and arrows whizzing through the air surrounded him. Before he moved away from the drow's body, he spun quickly, turning to face the now kneeling elf. He spun his blade around in his hand, so that the deadly point was tilted towards the ground. The elven ranger quickly plunged it downwards, slipping through the soft flesh of the drow warrior.

As he raised his blade out of the corpse, he leveled his head ahead of him, and watched as Mysteria was thrown to the ground by a rather large looking orc. She seemed to be panicing, looking from side to side, obviously for Fang. The elven ranger didn't hesitate. In a flash, he was back on his feet, and in a dead sprint towards Mysteria's aid. As the orc raised it's crude, but deadly axe, Aegis was gaining on the position. Mysteria seemed to stumble back, trying to get out of the way, her hands grasping for anything that could be used as a sheild. As the orc began the vicious descent of the weapon, the ranger made a small jump forward, angling his body, kicking his feet forward. He hit the ground, and slid the last few feet, right between the blade and Mysteria, Sun Fang raised. The sound of metal colliding shrieked through his head, sending his ear drums ringing. The strong orc beared his axe down on the smaller elf, slowly bringing the deadly edge towards the rangers neck. Aegis gritted his teeth, and twisted his grip of his sword, pushing back, trying desperatly not to yield to the orc. He could smell it's breath. It was fould, and reeked of decay. It grinned maliciously as it beared it's weapon down on the ancient enemy of it's kind...

[Yshania]

'I can't let you do this' Yshania said to her friend 'I can't'. Frustrated, she tossed the bottle of potion into the shadows...accepting that prepared medication was not the answer here. Chaos reigned around them, the clashing of steel, the roars of battle...

Yshania felt her clothing soaking in the blood of her friend that was spreading in an alarming pool beneath them as she took hold of the other woman's shoulder and pulled her onto her side. Removing her armour, Yshania found the exit wound and placed a hand over each deep gash and began to intone the words to heal. The flesh of her friend felt cold as she worked, the deathly pallor of Dragon Wench's face only accentuating the shadows of the demons that raged within 'come on!' she pleaded 'you have to help me'. But she felt her friend's strength bleeding faster than her life force, her desire to embrace death stronger than her will to fight. The wounds started to close but with a reluctance that alarmed Yshania, she recognised for a heal spell to be effective that the injured must desire to survive. But her friend had lost too much blood, and though Yshania was able to tend to the surface injuries she felt so distanced from the fighter, and her battle to resist her efforts, not knowing for sure whether she was really reaching her.

Realising they were vulnerable where they were, Yshania checked that her friend was safe to move before pulling her into the shadows. All she could do now was sit with Dragon Wench and hope. The Avenger summoned an elemental prince to replace the two comrades lost from battle, and was satisfied that it was Zaaman Rul that joined the fray, his flames lighting the whole cavern but the niche in which the two women were hidden. Together the druid and the fighter huddled in the shadows, Yshania praying her dear friend would begin to fight...

The druid, keeping a wary eye on the battlefield, spoke in hushed reassuring whispers to her friend. She had known Dragon Wench for a year, but in this time they had spent so much time together...it felt to Yshania as if they had always been close...and she valued their friendship dearly. They had shared laughter in the tunnels beyond Gwalchmai's room, they had shared the pain of Jerren's decision to re-embrace the void, they had stood side by side in the battle against dark forces. There was an energy between the two of them that was magical, a precious gift. One that she was eternally grateful for. Yshania hugged her friend tight as a silent tear fell, she so wished she could take the fighters pain within her, to relieve Dragon Wench, to fight it for her. But of course this was physically impossible, all she could do was to hold her and reassure her that she was here with her, that she cared, that she would offer her last ounce of strength to help...

[Mysteria]

Deperately, Mysteria tried to escape the orc, fumbling for her sword while the foul creature raised his axe, then let it sweep down, intend on taking her head off ...

Frozen in place, Mysteria watched the blade as if it were a snake, poised to straike, unable to move though a small voice at the back of her head kept screaming 'Move it ... Move It! ... MOVE IT!!!'

Suddenly, the spell was broken as Aegis threw himself in the orc's way, his blade catching the deadly axe. For moments, they struggled, the orc using all his weight to push down upon the elf who would not be able to resist for long ... The sudden need of her friend made Mysteria jump into action. Head still whizzing, she pushed herself up on her feet, flicking her black daggers into her hands.

"Die, scum!", her daggers cut two glimmering arcs through the reddish light, the dark blades severing the orcs head neatly from the body which crashed down upon Aegis, half burying him.

"Damn...", she cursed, then helped the ranger disengage himself from underneath. With a grunt, she hauled him up on his feet.

"You look like hell", it escaped her, the red light of the fire prince making the orc's blood stand out even more vividly, fine beads of sweat running down his temple.

"You too", he replied gruffly, shaking off her hand, "The fight", he stormed off into battle, leaving Mysteria to wipe off the blood running down her face from a hitherto unnoticed gash. Quickly, she swapped back to sword and dagger, then stormed after the ranger, afraid that his recklessness would get him hurt again ...

At least, Fang suddenly reappeared, his fur matted with more glistering blood, already looking for his next kill.

[Aqua-chan]

Aqua-chan focused her mind on engaging anything with her blade that would attack her. Rather than watching for comrades that needed aid, she kept her mind strictly on killing her opponents.

Her scimitar clashed viciously with the long sword of the fighter drow. His movements were swift, but not enough to keep up with the reflexes of a tiger-woman. Neither of the two had the advantage of a shield, but it was nearly impossible to hit each other all in the same.

Something was tugging at the back of the Ishiatorian's head, however. Allies all about her were also under vicious attack, and the hybrid wondered if all would make thier way out alive from this battle. She was not worried for Nippy or Gwalchmai or Yshania. However, Aegis was injured, and Aqua-chan watched out of the corner of her eye as Mysteria was almost wiped out -- and she would have been, if not for Aegis' timely arrival.

You're here to maintain balance

The truth in the words stung, but she would have to face it. The Dark Flames were not supposed to be here. They were not all supposed to destroy the plans of the enemy. Now that they had partially accepted Aqua-chan to be one of thier own, she really didn't know what to do.

By the code of the Shadow Grove, the mission had to be completed. Aqua-chan swallowed hard. If that meant back-stabbing some of these men and women to maintane balance, then there was not much else she could do.

But the drow shot her an unprodicted move. Instead of lashing his sword straight down as she had thought he would, he angled the blade from the left and stabbed it into her side deeply.

The hybrid screamed in pain. Not just a yelp or a hollar, but she
screamed to the point where every creature in the room acknowledged her pain, but most of them ignoring it. The drow smiled in victory, knowing that he had hit the woman where she wouldn't get back up.

She touched the wound. The blood was black on her hands. The drow had hit a vital organ, and without any healing spells avaliable, Aqua-chan had less than five minutes to live.

[dragon wench]

The darkness surrounded her....like a velvet blanket....its folds gathered around her supporting....easing... the agony that had become a part of her every fibre...

Somewhere beyond the darkness....as though on the periphery of her vision....a light flickered. From what seemed very far away...she heard the voice of her friend.....pleading with her...beseeching any deity that might listen...... Through the shrouds of fog that had begun to envelop her within their tendrils, she felt....at some level...the utter desperation of Yshania's voice....reflecting how much she cared...how much others cared.

Dragon Wench moaned....reluctant to disengage from the comfort death offered...yet also pulled by the powerful energy of the druid's emotion. She stirred, caught in a struggle of opposing forces....caught between her desire to succumb to death's caress....and the love that reached for her through the encompassing darkness.

[Aegis]

The sounds of battle cut through the tunnels like a sharp knife. The sound of steel on steel, and the explosions of the volatile magic being used seemed to echo everywhere. Seir walked towards it slowly, the large orc axe still gripped tightly in his hands. He wore a blank expression, his face betraying neither an urgency, or a panic, just a simple, emotionless image. He walked slowly towards where the battle ensued, down the darkened tunnels, to where his master bade him to go...

[Yshania]

Yshania felt her friend stir...for a moment she was silent, wondering whether she had imagined it...she was painfully aware herself of the temptation to remain in the void...how much easier it was to invite death's embrace...she began to relate her story to the fighter...not knowing whether she was hearing her or not, she began to tell her of Mael...how after years of darkness, and depths of pain, Maels patience and unconditional love had started to show the way. Her mind had become a blank canvass, gratefully accepting the pastels that were creating a new landscape. Mael’s modesty, and his love and appreciation of the simple pleasures was infectious. Yshania had began to fall in love with this simplicity that was the druidic lifestyle, to the new start it offered, to the quiet acceptance of all things, the balance and promise of growth. Months had passed as she had began the long climb out of this void, wary of the depths should she slip. Each day closer to the surface, the sun had felt warmer…the land greener.

One evening, Yshania and Mael sat in their usual places…Mael tending the crackling fire, the light from the flames dancing across his features. They had harvested the land and he was humming a tune of gratitude…one of many songs she had learned from him. Hypnotised by the crackle of the fire, and the soft brush of the wind through the nearby trees, Yshania turned her face to the heavens and for the first time in years she saw beyond the void and what had gone. With new eyes she had studied the sky, a dark backdrop to a gallery of stars…the moon hanging like a masterpiece. She had turned her head and gazed in wonder at the majesty of distant mountains that reached without motion …wearing the forests like a cloak loosely buttoned against the winds. Mael was right, there is beauty if you knew where to look.

She spoke to her friend of this beauty...of simple appreciation of simple things...of the gift of nature and the magic it held...

[dragon wench]

Blurred images flooded her mind......of Jerren's smile....of his corporeal form.... Drifting now herself between life and death she saw in the shadows of her thoughts the phantasm that had emerged before her that unbelievable night only a few short weeks before. After her initial caution and shock..she had allowed herself to accept that he had truly escaped the dark void within which he had been held......that he had indeed defied the cruel end that had been his fate.

Lips barely moving..... in a soundless whisper she uttered the questions that had ceaselessly plagued her since that moment.......when she had realised the utter finality of his flight. "Why? What are you running from? Why did you come back only to flee?" The letter had spoken of a need to protect her from the demons that gnawed upon his soul...... Yet....despite his absence......indeed perhaps because of it..... she felt them lurking close by waiting to feast upon her weakened state.

But.....countering their festering evil.....a voice nearby spoke of beauty...of nature..... and the light she had percieved from far away drew closer....seemingly working to banish the dark despair raging within.

As though blinking in response to its intensity....she opened her eyes....took in the anguish etched across Yshania's face....the sounds of battle..... close yet remote..... Suddenly conscious of something sharp digging into her spine...she shifted....and then winced in an agonized shudder.... both at the ferocity of the pain in her stomach and the full realisation of her recent actions ......the awareness that her rash behaviour had led to her friends endangering their lives. Confused...ashamed at her own stupidity.....she gazed searchingly at her druid friend for a moment and then looked away into cavern's depth trying to reconcile the myriad questions..... the conflicting emotions that struggled against the murky pools of her heart.

[thantor3]

"I cannot believe we are having this conversation. You told me yourself she is dying. If you care anything for her…."

He rounded on her. "Who are you to lecture me about caring?" He was inches from her face, his eyes steely, blazing with indignation. " How dare you ply me with platitudes culled from the sentimental slop that the herd of humanity calls love -- little more than the adolescent slapping together of body parts in a fevered haze of hormones. You know NOTHING about the type of love that we shared, something that this jaded world has never known… a force so deep and intense that the soul goes molten. There are no words for the heights we experienced… for what we were when we were together."

"A pretty speech." She leaned back upon an outcropping of rocks and looked directly into his eyes. Not with anger or confrontation, but with an almost detached sense of curiosity. "Tell me, which one of us was that for?" Their eyes held for several heartbeats, and when she felt her point had hit its mark, she asked, "Why did you leave, Jerrenn?" He didn't look away immediately, but she could sense that he had gone somewhere else… a not unfamiliar place… desolate and lonely from what she could intuit. "Something went wrong," he said at last, his eyes turning downward. "We entered that place of intimacy and purity… and something was there. Something dark and cold and devoid of life. At first I thought we were under attack, some sort of spell… but it wasn't a spell. It…" he paused to gather himself, as if the memory had left him beaten down and filled with shame. "It was me. The price for the years spent exposed to the void, I imagine. It was as if the heat and fierceness of our joining triggered something… like a mutation or a twisting inside. Neither of us knew what was happening… what to do. I didn't know what it would do to her and I couldn't chance that it would hurt her… I could not have lived with that. So I left."

"So typically male…" Anicka's voice was level, but edged. "Did you ever consider giving her a choice?"

Jerren bristled. "There was no choice."

"Between adults, there is always a choice, Jerrenn. Just like there is a choice now." He moved to respond but she rode right over him. "You were not there. You did not see the desolation, the sheer and utter agony that Dragon Wench went through after you left. But I did. Did you know she wanted to kill herself?" She felt a pang of regret as she said this, but she knew she must be merciless, must twist the knife in deeper. "No, of course you didn't. Because you, true to some ubiquitous hero script, had run off on a delusional quest to protect your poor helpless damsel in distress. Just like any adolescent farm boy… " Jerren crossed his arms across his chest but Anicka could see the conflicting emotions shifting across his face. "You rail against the injustice of the forces set against you and you tell me you would gladly sacrifice your life for Dragon Wench, but what have you actually done for her? Shall we make a list? You have destroyed her sense of self, you have left her completely alone with no possibility of healing the gaping wound bleeding inside her, you have brought her to the brink of insanity, and you have left her actively suicidal. You say there are no words for a love like yours? I have two: utter brutality." Words continued to flow inside her mind, but she did not give voice to them, allowing the silence to hang heavily between them. When she could almost hear his heart ripping apart, she said softly, "Go to her, Jerren. I know that you have the ability to do it. She needs you… please don't let her die."
******************************************
As Dragon Wench's eyes searched the depths of the cavern for answers to her myriad question, she felt the darkness surround her once again… the velvety seduction of the void pulling her inward and downward. As her eyes slowly closed, off in the distance she heard Yshania's insistent words drift away as she felt herself slowly sinking, ever deeper …

She was awakened by a crackling noise very close to her head. Slowly coming to her senses, she realized in succession that the sound was a fire, that she was warm and no longer in pain, and that there was someone in the room with her. Instinctively reaching for her sword, she opened her eyes and discovered that she was in a rustic but very cozy cabin, apparently snow-bound from the limited view she had out the windows. "You slept a long time," said a familiar voice behind her. She turned quickly to find Jerren sitting in an overstuffed chair, book in his lap, smiling warmly at her.

[Yshania]

Dragon Wench had opened her eyes. For a long moment the two women regarded each other before Dragon Wench shifted herself uncomfortably into a sitting position and turned her attention away. Yshania remained silent, unsure as to what to do or say, then the fighter closed her eyes again and slumped back against the wall. The druid called her friend's name softly...then more urgently...suddenly Dragon Wench scrambled for her sword. Yshania flinched and tried to take hold of the other womans hands...then just as quickly, the moment passed and the fighter raised her hands to her face. Behind her splayed fingers her eyes were wide with fear..shock...Yshania could not determine...then slowly all expression drained from Dragon Wench as she stared mutely into space...

Yshania remembered the potion that T'lainya had once given to her, how that had helped her...hopeful, she dug the bottle from her pack and put it into Dragon Wench's hand, helping her close her fingers around the vessel. 'Drink this' she urged. Slowly, almost robotically, the fighter raised the bottle to her lips and sipped...Yshania knew she was staring at a shell of a woman, now devoid of reason and emotion, as she herself had also experienced after the possession at the glade had separated her soul from her flesh...but she could not reach the fighter now...she did not have the power alone...but for now, her friend was physically alive and would need to be kept safe until she could figure out with the help of the other healers what they could do...

She wrapped her cloak around Dragon Wench and instructed her softly to remain where she was...the fighter did not respond, but Yshania felt sure she would do as she had asked, after all she had taken the potion...but as to whether this was having any effect on her it was difficult to tell. Sighing sadly, the druid stood and turned to help the other Dark Flames in battle...