Elwen

A Single Truth *Sequel to “Choices. (And ‘Shinnite’ is the protagonist’s family name. She likes it better than her given name. And yes, Elisa, I just threw in some random stuff with the Cole-Shinnite scene at the end, extending on the actual RP. Feedback IS quite welcome, as harsh as you can make it.* January 1st, 2000 For as long as she could remember, Shinnite Midori had always wondered what it was like to die-or, at the very least, what her own death would be like. After all, she had lived every day of her twenty-six year life knowing that she was born for one purpose and for one purpose alone. Probably that morbid side of her came from the fact she had always known of the one pivotal moment in her life, when the fate of humanity and of Mother Earth herself would rest in her hands. Shinnite had a grand total of two things to say on /that/ subject. The first being that if she had been born for /only/ that purpose, than the twenty-six years that constituted her life were simply pointless, stupid, and anticlimactic, and everything she had done was highly overrated. And it was highly ironic that she had the presence of mind, considering that she had a god-blessed sword stuck through her chest, to appreciate that little irony. The second was that angsting about a possible outcome endlessly was not only a waste of time, it was three-quarters of a person’s suffering-over things that MAY happen, not what HAS happened. Shinnite had expected that the Final Battle would be a great deal more…dramatic. Somehow, though she should be relieved, Shinnite found herself to be a little disappointed, despite the outcome. After all, she had supposedly been born for this task-shouldn’t it have been a little more…spectacular, somehow? It wasn’t as painful as she had been expecting. Not anywhere near as painful as what Tiller had suffered, nor ‘Ven, nor Linden. The Shadowed One had been strangely…merciful in striking that final blow, unlike all the months that he had been toying with her, or what he had done to his other victims. In a way, that was disappointing. But then, Shinnite supposed, it was her guilt speaking up. It was because of me that so many died. Shinnite thought despairingly. This is all I can do, in their memory. Give up everything I have…they did, whether they were a Seal, in my defense and in life’s defense, or because they were an Angel and it was their destiny, or just an ordinary person who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s better this way… Maybe, this way, she could find peace…even as her spirit slowly let go of her body, even as she knew that she was dying, Shinnite felt a strange sense of inner stillness, serenity blossoming at long last inside her heart. This could help her find redemption. Shinnite…my star of hope…the people you have lost…and the dreams that have faded…they will live on in your heart…as long as you remember. Linden… Shinnite thought dazedly. I promise you…no matter what… She tilted her head back slightly, and strands of her chin-length chestnut hair fell into her eyes: her vision was swimming, fading in and out. I will never forget. Cole, despite having ‘won’ their battle, looked confused. Why did Shinnite hold back? She could have won, and easily. But she hadn’t even tried. Why? Surely, Linden’s death should have angered her enough…should have angered her enough that she would have been able to finish him. The younger man didn’t understand, why she had spared him and why she had held back, and he made that point quite clear. Shinnite smiled up at him, and in that smile was the insinuation that her action was the most logical in the world. “This is the only way.” The young woman said gently, her violet gaze holding his. “To set you free, Cole.” No matter what you do, one will be always there to counter what the One does, Shinnite, and I am that one… the Shadowed One, your shadow and your opposing star.” It was because of her that Cole had been destroyed. Maybe, after she was gone, whatever Power that was out there, God or Goddess, would take pity and restore what she had sundered, when she had made the mistake of choosing to save humanity. Shinnite’s eyes nearly closed-but in the back of her mind, the dying Sumeragi was still smiling at her, the way he had smiled so rarely when he had been alive. Shinnite…my star of hope…the people you have lost…and the dreams that have faded…they will live on in your heart…as long as you remember. Linden’s voice still echoed in her mind, and Shinnite forced her eyes open again. Linden smiled, at the very end. Do you want that smile to freeze like that, Midori? The memory of that smile and his words helped to strengthen her resolve to do what she was about to do, to do what Kris had shown her the way for. The third outcome to the Promised Day. Shinnite wanted to keep that memory, that image, with her forever. Only a little longer, and she could rest. “I realized that if *you* were to die, you would be forgotten.” Shinnite said softly, the massive blood loss taking its toll. If she had been anyone else, she would have been dead already, hell with talking coherently-but she was the One, gifted with the power of the Powers that Be. “No one would remember you the way you were…the Shadowed One would be remembered, and hated, but Cole, Mordekai’s twin, would be forgotten.” She wanted to let go, but it wasn’t her time yet. Not yet. Almost, but not quite. “But if I was the one to die…I would live on forever, in your heart.” Shinnite said quietly. “And I choose the door that neither of us saw…” She trailed off abruptly, as she watched Cole’s eyes change, soften and warm, even as he frowned in complete confusion. It was only a tiny spark, barely there in the ice that were his eyes…but it was the opening Shinnite needed. “In your hands…I place my final hope.” Shinnite gasped out, opening herself up completely to the power that hummed in her veins. It would take everything she had, but in the end…it would be worth it. “Be not what others want you to be…but be yourself…” Shinnite knew that she didn’t have much time left. As soon as her last reserves of strength dried up…it was over. She would die. The young woman slowly began to fall backwards, and she felt arms cradle her closely, as the holy sword was pulled from her body. It hurt, like hell-what else was new?-but she was too weak to cry out. Shinnite, however, had a stray thought: why on earth did it hurt more to pull the sword out than to stick it in? Shinnite began to sob, silently, the tears falling like rain. Her last act would finally make a difference, but when so many people had already been sacrificed…she couldn’t bear it, even at the end of her life. Too many. Linden…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… For him. For if there was only a single truth, it was this: Shinnite had not just chosen the third door in order to free Cole, but to follow Linden, for there was nothing for her without him. He had probably been the one thing in her life that hadn’t been focused around the Promised Day and her choice that had been the prelude to this whole year, this dance of madness and blood that had finally ended in death (or running from said choice). His death had shattered something in her, which she’d never get back, no matter how long she may live. The edges of her vision grayed and blurred even more, turning inward and her whole world went dark. “Shinnite…” Cole whispered. At the sound of that voice, so long absent and so long missed, Shinnite managed a trembling, though genuine smile, though her tears were still falling. She wanted to laugh with delight and dance in a giddy circle, but knew that she wasn’t and would never be strong enough to laugh anymore, much less dance in a giddy circle. “You have another…another Wish…” the former Shadowed One said, and she could feel his body shake, as if he were sobbing. Shinnite would have responded, except that her voice didn’t seem to work anymore, she was too tired, and she was beginning to convulse in such a way that she might have thought she was having epileptic seizures and would make it quite difficult to respond if she had actually been able to, except that a, she wasn’t epileptic, b, if she was having seizures she wouldn’t be able to realize she was having one until it was over, and c, her body was on the verge of complete shutdown and it was protesting violently against letting her spirit move on so easily. Yes. she thought, sleepily. I want you and the others to live your lives, as best as you can, without looking back. Unrealistic, she knew, but Shinnite really didn’t care at this point. She could dimly hear Cole saying something, but it was too faraway now, she couldn’t hear it. Shinnite’s breathing began to stutter horribly. She was so cold, and no matter how much she shivered, she couldn’t get warm. She could vaguely hear the outlines as Cole choked out various sentences, but she couldn’t hear any of them. It was so far away…like the gentle music of the sea. All that mattered was that Cole, not the Shadowed One, was with her now, and that she would finally go to be with Linden. Whether it was in Heaven or in Hell or in Purgatory or in oblivion, it didn’t matter to her. Not now, and it never had. Eventually, some part of her that was calm and tranquil reached out and pulled the rest of her away, away from her pain, away from her body, into soothing nothingness. Shinnite, though she had fought everything else all her life, didn’t fight this, for she was no longer afraid of death-if she had ever been afraid. Didn’t fight the mercy that was the emptiness, and she stepped forward as her eyes closed, her spirit stepping into the darkness gracefully, long black coat trailing behind her like the wings of a fallen, dark angel. Here, there was no pain. She had found her peace. Shinnite, my star of hope… Shinnite looked up and saw the man she had thought she would never see again, tall and slender, his mismatched eyes, blue and green-the eyes she had always called “miko’s eyes”-fixed on her, as he smiled, the expression softening his typically serious, beautiful face. Linden’s willowy form was outlined in shimmering radiance. Linden?! Shinnite was flatly astounded. How- Kiboo no hoshi, death is only the beginning. And everything starts here. He extended his arms, and Shinnite walked towards him, and into the light. Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome. ~Owari~ *Some notes. The quote at the end is by Isaac Asimov (the 'life is pleasant... quote.)* Glossary: Kiboo no hoshi-Japanese for “star of hope.” Basically, it’s Linden’s pet name for Shinnite. Yes, I know that Linden is redundant, using both the English and Japanese, but in this case, he is meant to be.

Unredeemed *This is another Shade and Elanor story, sequel to “Endings”. However, it is NOT in the style of The Mirror: Endings, though it does show the actual events foretold in “Endings”.* Goodbye, darling… Elanor Starflower moved on silent Elven feet through the apartment. Quietly, she murmured a powerful spell-this particular spell, which was a combination of two other “standard” enchantments, had been one of the many spells she had discovered/invented in her time as a Keeper-in-training, all those years ago-under her breath, as she stopped near the small figure who was sprawled on the couch. “Forgive me, Shade.” The Elven sorceress’s voice was sad and musical in the silent room, as she reached down with delicate hands to unhook the bandolier which rested over his slender chest. Shade spasmed, mouth open in a silent scream, as she freed the focus of his power. However, despite the massive pain he was in, he was still caught in frozen sleep, his body resting though his mind was still aware, because of her enchantment. “It will only be for a short time…you’ll have your bells back, soon enough.” She whispered to him as she buckled the bandolier around her own chest. Elanor knew that her own necromantic tools, her set of bells, were not properly attuned to her: she did not have the same rapport with each bell, her bond was uneven. This was the reason she had taken Shade’s: she could tap into his own attunement, since they were linked as Watcher and Messenger, Keeper and Guardian: he was equally attuned to each of the nine bells, and she needed that equality, in this battle. The bell that she, personally, had the best rapport with was Astarael, the Weeper, the Sorrowful: it was also the one that, when rung, took everyone who heard deep into Death-with no return, the final death of the soul as opposed to the death of the body that Oriael, the Destroyer, brought. To anyone else, her very deep connection with Astarael was a grave omen, and they would not understand: Elanor knew why the bell had chosen her. There was a side to her personality that very few had seen-most people saw the bright-eyed, cheerful Elanor Starflower, not the avenging angel. Only a few had seen what she had truly been capable of: her best friend Miniual, for one: Shade, for another, though he had seen that side after it had been tempered by the passage of many years. Miniual had seen her fury undimmed, had watched her take the risks that should have gotten her killed, for her vengeance upon those who had destroyed her life. Her home plane of Nerrenia held the origin of the Astarael aspect of her personality. Her people had been engaged in a life-and-death struggle, a war that had gone on since before many could remember, with the Dark One. A war that the Elves were barely managing to hold on in, barely managing to survive, though since becoming the Watcher, she could put more pressure on the Dark One directly. As a result, the tide had gradually shifted, until her people began to know some days of peace. A guarded peace, a watchful peace, but a peace nonetheless, a peace in which children could grow up without having to fear. Much too late for her, though. It was much too late for her, Elanor knew, and it had always been too late for her. Creatures of the Dark One had killed her family, her father, mother, and baby sister. Elanor had been the only one who had survived-and she had turned her fury both outward and inward. She had become a scout, partnering with Miniual. The two ranged far afield, trying to wipe as much Shadowspawn off the face of the earth as they could. But it was Elanor who took the most grievous risks, much to Miniual’s displeasure. She would often ride far outside the borders, further even then they went while they were together, without armor, without distance weapons-even though she was a talented archer!-and without a companion, without even the faithful, loyal Miniual, who she had to sneak away from in order to go on these expeditions, with only the protection afforded her by a fast horse, a light sword, and the magic she had been able to draw from the land, even without training. Elanor’s wrath was unceasing, and she took risks that should have gotten her killed-indeed, she meant to get herself killed, but not without pouring every drop of her blood into destroying her enemy. Her Keeper’s training, once she had been identified as one of the rare sorceresses with the power to hold back the Shadow, had pushed that self-destructive side of her deep within, and while Elanor burned always with anger, she had found herself able to feel joy, and to not need to destroy herself along with her enemy, as she would have done if she had continued on her path. When she had become the Watcher of the Light Most High, she had buried that anger deep within. She was already close enough to the shadows-anger of the sort that she had borne would carry her over the edge, would destroy her. Elanor knew that she should let go of her anger. But she, despite her knowledge, never could let go. It had sustained her all those dark years-and even though she had no longer needed it, she never could have let it go. And now…it had come back to haunt her. Her rage had come out again, at Miniual’s death at the hands of Belial, and everything that had happened since. She had become a necromancer, embraced a power utterly alien to her nature, in order to shield Shade from any further harm, even though she knew that he would never forgive her. And now, with this latest betrayal of the one she still, even after everything, loved, Elanor knew that whatever they once had was gone. If she, by some miracle, lived through this, Elanor knew that she would have to release Shade, and fully expected him to kill her himself. It was a beautiful thing, Elanor knew, to be killed by the one who you loved and who loved you the most. Most people did not get that grace. “I love you.” Elanor whispered, knowing it would be the last time she would ever speak the words. The infinite possibilities she had spoken of once, long ago, lying in the long, green grass with Miniual and Shade, staring up at the deep green trees and the blue sky that curved overhead, had narrowed. There was only one path now, and she must walk it, alone. Miniual was gone and Shade could not help her-and he wouldn’t, now, even if he could. She had made sure of that. “Goodbye, darling.” Elanor wanted to kiss him, but she would not taint him with her own darkness. He didn’t need any more, he had enough of his own. She held a slender hand out, palm facing upward, and her white staff appeared, falling into her hand. Elanor closed her fingers about it, grimly smiling, as she turned and left the apartment, closing the door behind her. *** Goodbye, darling… Through the pain, Shade could still hear Elanor’s soft farewell. Anger blazed through him, white-hot and burning-what the hell was that Elf doing?! Look into my mirror, one last time… With the memory of Elanor’s mentor’s words echoing through his head, Shade would have paled if he had any color in his skin, as images of what he had seen in the mirror, images of his future and Elanor’s-Elanor’s in particular- rushed before his eyes, in a chorus of voices, his and hers and Elanor’s. You have the gift of foresight! Tell me what you have seen! Now! She is not coming back. There is nothing for you here. Only death. Why do you hold her here? She stays because she has hope! She stays for you! Let her go. Life and Death do not belong together. She chose me! It is better this way. Let her go, before her soul goes bitter and cold. Let her go, while your love is still bright, and she can treasure it for an eternity. You are of Life. I am of Death. Never shall the twain meet. It was a beautiful dream…but it was a dream, Elanor. Goodbye, darling… Bound in invisible chains, Shade mentally cursed, knowing as he did what Elanor was about to do. //Damn you, Elanor! Damn you!// *** Elanor unsheathed the slender Elven-forged sword she wore at her waist and began tracing a circle on the pavement, scratching the arcane runes of power into the sidewalk. The sorceress sent tendrils of her power tracing outward, testing the boundaries of the circle, and the invisible hemisphere that stretched over her head. Satisfied that no stray spell-or even sound- would break through her barrier, she sheathed her sword, and stretching her hands forth, began to chant in an arcane tongue, the High Speech, language of power from before remembrance and from before even the beginnings of time. The Rite of Challenge. The way it had to be. In moments, a dark mist spun itself out of air, and formed itself into a tall, handsome man with dark hair and dark eyes, towering over Elanor. Belial, one of the many deities of darkness in all the worlds, and one of the most powerful: he was devoted especially to the darker side of lust, and to cruelty and pain. His eyebrow went up in mild surprise, but the god made no reply. “Who are you?” Belial asked. A challenger had to identify who they were, though Belial knew who she was: after all, he had attempted to win her over, in an attempt to have the Watcher rule by his side, as his dark queen. An offer Elanor had spurned. Many times over. “Who? Who am I? I am the Watcher of the Light Most High. I watch the Dark from the shadows.” Elanor said coolly, holding her staff tightly. “Do not get involved in things that do not concern you.” Belial replied heatedly. “If it concerns my Messenger, then it concerns me.” Elanor said simply. Shade, Belial’s cousin…her necromancer of a Guardian/Messenger had once been the Balancer, a deity: he had chosen to Fall, and had forgotten much in Falling. The man who both of them, in their own way, loved: Elanor for what he was and what she saw in him that others did not, and Belial…who the hell knew? It was beyond certain that the twisted deity held the same emotion for Shade that he did for Elanor herself: a twisted, possessive love, hunter for his prey. Elanor was not happy about that. “Do you have any idea who I am?” Belial asked unnecessarily. “I do. But the only way you will get to him is through me.” Elanor said, raising her staff and shifting into a defensive stance. Closing her eyes, she released the spell on Shade. She would need every ounce of power she could summon in this final battle. Her last. There would be no turning back. *** Shade felt the spell release, and despite the fact he was nearly blinded with pain, he managed to climb to his feet and stumble out of his apartment. “Are you OK?” a familiar baritone voice asked, a hand reaching out and steadying him. Kurosaki Hikaru. “Just peachy.” Shade snapped sarcastically. “I had my bells taken by my fiancée/boss, who is out trying to get herself killed fighting a certain evil deity, my less-than-dear cousin, who we both know *quite* intimately. I’m on my way to get back my bells and somehow prevent her from getting killed. That way, I can kill her myself.” The elementalist immediately looked anxious. “Need a hand? I’m sure that I can get the twins-“ “No.” Shade said curtly. “Save your strength. There’s more to come.” Hikaru nodded, green eyes dark and turned inward, reflecting. “May the Lady be with you both.” He finally said. Shade made no reply, but limped towards the stairs. Hikaru grabbed his wrist and lifting him slightly with flows of Air, hauled him towards the elevator. “What are you doing? I don’t know how to-“ Shade began. Hikaru jabbed the call button and pulled Shade with him into the elevator when it arrived. “Wait! Wait!” a man in a business suit came running down the hall. Instead of holding the elevator as he normally would have done, Hikaru pressed the ‘Door Close’ button, and when the doors closed, hit the button for the ground floor. Once the two were out, Hikaru wrapped a more complex weave of Air elemental magic about Shade, to keep his feet enough above the ground so that his limp was nullified. “That should hold until you find Miss Elanor.” Hikaru said. This grim-edged attitude was one that he had recently adopted-but Hikaru had been trapped in the darkness so long, there would be no going back to the light he had previously known. He was lucky that he was not completely insane-Belial could make anyone insane-but he would never be the same. Shade made no reply, but turned and hurried out the door. *** Elanor landed with a thump, ankle twisted at an odd angle beneath her, and cursed in a particularly old, very dead language: the people who had once spoken it had been killed off, to the last babe in their mother’s arms, when their island had been sunk by a volcanic eruption. Elanor made a hobby out of cursing in various dead languages, and had gone through most of her considerable repertoire-she was a linguist, like Shade, but the way this challenge was going…-thus far. Damn! Elanor cursed mentally, realizing that her ankle was probably broken, at the very least badly sprained: she wasn’t going to be able to move far like that. There was only one way out now. “Give up.” Elanor looked up at the sound of the rich bass voice. “I don’t want to kill you, Watcher. But you can’t win.” “Never.” Elanor hissed from between clenched teeth as she used her staff to lever herself back to her feet, deftly weaving Air magic to keep her weight off her injured left ankle. “Surrender to the likes of you? I’d die first!” A delicate hand reached down, to the bandolier that hung on her chest, stolen from her Guardian. I knew when I became a necromancer that it would end like this. Shade, forgive me. Slowly, she gripped the largest bell, made of cold iron, the size of a small jar, and drew it forth, careful to keep it silent lest it ring before she was ready. Astarael, the sorrowful bell of iron, who takes all who hear her song into Death-even gods. She sings a duet with my soul, and I have to do what I have to do. I was never good at necromancy, even if I was a binder like you, being an Elf and all and not born to the gift. But I have the skill to do this. Goodbye, Shade. Belial’s eyes widened in realization and dawning horror-but Elanor’s circle had trapped him as much as it had trapped her. Neither of them could escape-and no stray sound would escape. She would kill no one else. “You ARE mad, Watcher!” Belial roared in sudden fear-for he saw the long-hidden anger in her eyes, and the madness that her fury drove her to. “Not as mad as you, Belial. You hurt my Guardian…and now you will pay.” Elanor said coldly. She released her staff, and it fell at her feet, brief thread of bell-like music echoing as it hit the ground with sickening finality. Goodbye, darling. Elanor held Astarael out, both her slender hands, hands of a sorceress, hands of a healer, hands of an archer, of a swordswoman, hands of the Watcher of the Light Most High, clutching the bell’s handle in the grip of a trusted, close friend. Ignoring the pain in her hurt ankle, she spun, long white skirt and white cloak swirling about her as she danced, bringing Astarael around with her. And she welcomed her song, with all her heart, even as Astarael called her into Death. Finally, Elanor Starflower had come home. *** Shade had never run so fast in his life, hampered by his limp as he was: however, since Hikaru’s spell had brought him off the ground, he didn’t exactly have the problem to contend with-and he suspected that the Elemental Adept had cast a spell for greater speed on him, a spell that was a combination of Wind and Water. It would hold for a while, anyway, whatever it was. He skidded around the corner-even though he wasn’t on the ground, the natural laws of physics still applied, and he was moving too fast while trying to take the turn-and his mouth fell open. Elanor’s circle glowed in the middle of the street-and from the absence of sound, she had cast a spell to keep all noise in. But why? Shade hit the ground with a ‘thump’ and crumpled to his knees as the spell gave out. But he didn’t care that he was kneeling in the middle of the street, as his eyes were riveted to the sight in front of him. Elanor danced, obviously favoring her left ankle, and he saw the bell in her hands with dawning horror. Astarael. She had warded all sound in for that very reason…so that no one but her and Belial could hear the sound of the dark bell that brought all who heard her into Death. Shade desperately launched himself forward and bounced backward off Elanor’s warding spell. Obviously, she had counted on her stubborn Guardian trying to come to her aid. Elanor continued to dance, the sun turning her golden hair to a lambent halo that framed her lovely face. She was as beautiful as ever. So young and beautiful and brave- And completely without hope, Shade recognized. For if Elanor had had hope, why the hell would she have done this?! “Damn you, Elanor! Damn you! DAMN YOU!” he shouted, not knowing if he could hear her. “We may never have been equals, but we sure as hell were friends, lovers, whatever…why the hell do you have to go and do this?!” Elanor spun again, and looked directly at him, a smile on her face, before continuing to dance. Spellbound by power, guided by anger, touched by sorrow, there was no way she could stop. Not now. Not ever. If she ever could have. Elanor danced, and would not stop. Not even as her spirit began to release its hold on Life. Not even as her life-force drained away. She would not stop. She danced as if she was possessed. Maybe she was. In her madness, Shade was and never would be sure. Shade refused to look away. Not for a single moment. He saw when Belial finally succumbed and was dragged into Death forever. Something in him…just broke, and he was alone in his mind. Alone like he had never been since he had become Elanor’s Guardian…even when she had “died”, the bond hadn’t remained broken…it had merely transcended what had come before, been twisted and reborn in a new shape, Watcher and Messenger. But this time, there was no doubt. Elanor was gone. Elanor’s circle finally came down, without its caster able to power it, and Shade scrambled forward, as Astarael fell silently to the ground, tumbling from the Elven woman’s nerveless fingers. His permanently bad ankle hurt like hell, but Elanor was what mattered now. He caught her as she fell, and she was limp in his arms, passive as she never was, with her long, silky golden hair cascading all over his chest. He had held her so many times before, despite himself. For her. Because she had asked it of him…asked him simply to hold her, nothing more. Elanor turned laughing blue-green eyes up at him, and leaned her head against his chest. “You’re so stiff. Goddess Above, can’t you ever relax?” “No.” Shade said stiffly. Elanor laughed, the sound musical bells, sweeter than even Ranna, the Sleeper, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, no trace of laughter had vanished from their sparkling depths. “From the way you’re acting, I’m going to bite your head off at any second. I don’t eat people for snacks.” Elanor said dryly, and jerked her head. “Do you see Miniual?” Shade looked where she was indicating. “No.” he said shortly, not liking to admit that he couldn’t see as far as an Elf, especially at night. “She’s over there, with her bow pointed straight at you. And she never misses.” Elanor said, grinning foolishly, as she raised a slender arm and pointed to where her best friend was. “And the point of telling me this was?” Shade asked. “She’ll shoot you if she even has the slightest inclination that you’re taking advantage of me. Like putting your hand in places it doesn’t belong. Miniual is very possessive, and very protective.” Shade had the unpleasant feeling that he was blushing, and was very glad for the cover of night to hide the color, though he was sure that the Elves could see color in the dark. To cover it up, he snapped curtly, “And why the hell would I ever want to do that? Not interested. You can go tell Miniual that your virtue is *quite* safe from me.” Elanor smiled up at him mischievously, and wiggled a bit. “Who says that *yours* is safe from me? You’re not the only one who can take advantage.” “Get off me, woman!” Shade snapped, giving her a good shove. Elanor landed in a heap at his feet, and an arrow embedded itself in the bark beside his head. He gave Elanor a flat stare. “You said she never missed.” “That was a warning shot. Don’t do that again, was what she said.” Elanor said with a smirk, climbing to her feet gracefully. “Next time, it’s your head.” Shade groaned. Reluctantly, he unbuckled the bandolier and pulled it free of Elanor, to buckle it back on himself. Immediately, his physical pain was almost all gone. He moved, pulling Elanor with him, until he could grasp Astarael. Carefully, he lifted the bell and replaced her in the bandolier, making sure no stray note escaped. But as he touched the handle, he felt something…a familiar presence, singing within the cold iron, singing with the spirit of Astarael. My soul sings a duet with Astarael, now…don’t be sad, Shade. My soul will be with you forever. Can you feel me, with you still, fused as my soul is with your Astarael? I took your bells at the end, Shade. Forgive me. I love you…I’m sorry it had to be this way. But you’re safe now, and free. Her deep connection with the final bell…Astarael had called her back from Death, and now both women, both Adepts, sang in the bell of iron and the death of the soul. Elanor would truly never leave him, now…she would Watch from within Astarael. Maybe even cast a spell through him. But she would never live again. That bright spirit, forever trapped in the darkest of necromantic bells, until the ending of all the worlds-Shade couldn’t bear to think about it. Goodbye, darling. Shade wanted to cry, soul-deep loss cutting through him. Elanor wasn’t the first lover he had lost-Minamino Adunial had been the first, and both deaths could have been prevented, if he had been faster, if he had been there-but all he had been able to do was watch them die. Shade had never cried, as far as he knew-never wanted to, and only once before had cared enough to even try. And now, when he wanted to, for the sake of a woman who at least deserved them, the tears wouldn’t come. Like with Adunial, he simply couldn’t cry for Elanor. For he had forgotten how to cry. Shade stared blankly at the ground, where Elanor’s staff still lay. The staff of the Watcher. The staff she no longer would have hands to wield. Slowly, he reached out a hand- And the staff fell into his palm. His senses registered the presence of several very powerful mages nearby. A slender hand reached out- Shade struck out blindly, through his grief and rage, and Elanor’s staff-he couldn’t think of it as his own, though it obviously now belonged to him- barely missed. “Stay away from her!” he shouted, seeing the long, pale blue hair that framed an emotionless face. “Stay away from her!” Aki Kamiya, the incarnation of yin. The feminine power of cold, darkness, and death. The teenager stepped back, long black trenchcoat following his motion. “Maybe I can do something-“ Akiko began. The older twin stepped around her brother-the hands of yang were the hands of a healer, unlike the hands of yin, who simply brought death. Akiko was her brother’s opposite, the incarnation of yang. The male power of warmth, light, and life. “No. She’s gone.” Shade said. Somewhere Between, neither in Life or in Death, not beyond the Ninth Gate… “And there’s nothing anyone can do for her.” The battle-horn for the final battle has been sounded… Shade stared into the eyes of his three companions. Aki was impassive, Akiko looked sad, and Hikaru was…sympathetic? “We have work to do.” Shade said coldly. The Fifth Circle had to close, and the twins fulfill their destiny as yin and yang: but first, they had to face Kurosaki Nova, Hikaru’s older sister. The Betrayer of Hope-she had sold her brother in exchange for Ascension. //Elanor…this is for you.// It had been Nova who had summoned Belial into this world, and given him his price. It had been Nova who ultimately bore the responsibility for Elanor’s death, and Miniual’s… What will you do now, Shade? Shade smiled grimly, and it was amazing how much he resembled Elanor in her shadow-madness at that moment. “We fight.” ~Owari~

The Mirror: Endings *Please note: Shade (the same Shade in “Ending Hour”) does not belong to me. He is an RP character of Merry (smallscale_mindgames), as Elanor Starflower is mine. His magical system (and a little of Elanor’s, though not most of it) was based off of the “Sabriel” books by Garth Nix, and no copyright infringement is intended. As soon as we find an alternative for Shade’s magical system, we will change it, and I will edit this story. Promise.* What does the mirror show? It shows a possible ending. It shows what may be…not what will be. Not what must be. Look into my mirror…one last time. You have the gift of foresight. Tell me what you have seen! Now! She is not coming back. No! There is nothing for you here. Only Death. Why do you hold her here? She stays because she has hope! She stays for you! Let her go. Life and Death do not belong together. She chose me! It is better this way. Let her go, before her soul goes bitter and cold. Let her go, while your love is still bright, and she can treasure it for an eternity. But it will only be a memory. You should be a dream to her! It was you who wanted us to wed in the first place! But I did not know your true nature, necromancer! I love you… Find someone else, Elanor! No…I have made my choice. You are of Life. I am of Death. Never shall the twain meet. It was a beautiful dream…but it was a dream, Elanor. Shade! Who? Who am I? I am the Watcher of the Light Most High. I watch the Dark from the shadows. Do not get involved in things that do not concern you. If it concerns my Messenger, then it concerns me. Do you have any idea who I am? I do. But the only way you will get to him is through me. I won’t let her die! Her path is already set, laid out beneath her feet. She has already taken the first steps. I knew when I became a necromancer that it would end like this. Shade, forgive me. Elanor, no! Not Astarael! Astarael, the sorrowful bell of iron, who takes all who hear her song into Death-even gods. She sings a duet with my soul, and I have to do what I have to do. I was never good at necromancy, even if I was a binder like you, being an Elf and all and not born to the gift. But I have the skill to do this. Goodbye, Shade. You ARE mad, Watcher! Not as mad as you, Belial. You hurt my Guardian…and now you will pay. No! My soul sings a duet with Astarael, now…don’t be sad, Shade. My soul will be with you forever. Can you feel me, with you still, fused as my soul is with your Astarael? I took your bells at the end, Shade. Forgive me. Elanor! I love you…I’m sorry it had to be this way. But you’re safe now, and free. Elanor! Goodbye, darling.

In a second, one of Calonderiel's slender swords is in his hand and pointed at Gabriel. "Listen to me, Gabriel Pelous." the ranger hisses coldly. "I am here for one purpose. One alone. Emotions have no bearing on one's life...dreams have no emotion. So why should I?" He turns and strides off, sheathing his sword as he walks away.

I watch mostly anime (and non-broadcast stuff, so I guess that don't count), so I would have to say that my one real big show is Babylon 5. Even then I just tape it (and forget to watch the tapes half the time. *sweatdrop*) or wait until the DVDs come out.

The Bargain Characters: Elena, a doctor and friend to Liriel and Yuki Liriel, a young woman who is fated to die Yuki, the young man in love with Liriel Ariel, the personification of death (lights off) Yuki: (off) Look out! (A loud crash and a woman’s shriek is heard.) Yuki: (off) Liriel?! (no answer) Liriel! (The lights come up to reveal a makeshift hospital room. Liriel is lying on a bed in Center. Elena is bent over her, and she shakes her head to herself. Yuki enters.) Elena: Yuki, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything. She doesn’t have much time left...a few hours, at the most. Maybe…if we were in the city instead of this place in the middle of nowhere, I could do something. But here…nothing. All I can do is make her comfortable, try to take the pain away, ease her passing. (lays hand on Yuki’s shoulder.) I don’t know what to say, Yuki. But I’m sorry. Yuki: Could you…leave us alone? I…want to say my goodbyes. Elena: (pause, considers) Alright. It’s the least I can do…(exits) Yuki: (to Liriel) I won’t let you go. Not now. I won’t let it end like this. (Ariel enters) Ariel: But it is not for a mortal to decide the fate of others. (points at him) Child, you cannot change what has already been written. It is her time to go and yours to stay behind. Yuki: And who the hell are you? Ariel: (steps closer to him) My name is Ariel, but as to what I am-(she walks forward) I am the road that leads to nowhere. I am the darkness that never lifts. I am the cold colder then ice. I am the dream that never awakens. I am the night that has no day. I am the guide to no return. Yuki: (bows respectfully) So you must be Death…the Dark Lady. Ariel: Very good. (studies him, inclining her head) You are no ordinary mortal, child, considering that you can see me without it being your time to die. Either you are touched also by the shadow that is falling on your friend, or you have the Sight that your kind lacks in these times, or both. And, no matter what the reason is, you are special. But, despite your abilities, you are still nothing but a mortal. Do not get involved in things that do not concern you. I am not here for you-but for the woman behind you. I have no quarrel with you. Yuki: Then your quarrel is with me. Ariel: Step aside, mortal. You cannot alter the hand of fate. Yuki: (does not move) The only way to get to her is through me. Ariel: You are foolish. You cannot stop what has already begun. Yuki: (shouting) Hell itself and all its denizens will not bar the way! I would follow her into fire, into storm, in darkness, and yes, Dark Lady, into death! You cannot hold me back! (the two begin to circle each other warily) Ariel: (even louder) And I am not a denizen of hell! So where does that promise go? (grabs him by the hair, jerks, and sends him sprawling.) Yuki: (gets to his feet and walks towards Ariel) You will not be rid of me so easily, Dark Lady. Ariel: I admire your courage, child, but it will get you nowhere. (grabs him by the collar and pulls him closer) Why? Why all this? Why are you doing this? (shakes him on every next word) Pride? Duty? Friendship? Why? (on the last why, she shoves him backwards and he sits heavily on the ground.) Yuki: (gets up again: softly) Because I love her. (Ariel stares at him intently) Ariel: People die all the time, and the ones they love and who love them are left behind. This is not different, child. Look at her. (she points to Liriel: Yuki looks, and closes his eyes briefly.) She’s suffering, trapped in that failing body of hers. She doesn’t even know you’re here…she cannot hear you, through the pain and haze that will be the end of her life. So much pain…the reason that I was created was to end humanity’s suffering. She suffers still, trapped in life. Can you take her pain away? (Yuki shakes his head) Only death can heal this pain. Death comes to all of humanity in time. This time is hers. Yuki: I don’t want her to die… Ariel: But it has to be that way. The balance must be maintained. One must die in order for another to live. That is the way it works. No one can change it…not even the gods themselves. Once their Song of Creation was sung, it cannot be changed, cannot be added to, cannot be altered. One death for one life. I must take someone…and I cannot let her live. Yuki: Then I invoke K’mana. My death for Liriel’s life. Ariel: (truly shocked, for the first time) You are mad! You would die for her, in her place?! Yuki: Yes. Ariel: There are always consequences to every decision. Always an equal and opposite reaction. Yuki: (without thinking) Newton’s Third Law. Ariel: Yes. That physical law applies to people, too. I will show you…the consequences to your decision. A possible future. (snaps her fingers. Ariel and Yuki move away.) (Elena enters, as Liriel is sitting up in bed. She knocks over a tray on the table in frustration.) Liriel: (emotionally) Go away! I said go away! Elena: It’s only me. Liriel: Oh. (listlessly) Stay, then. Elena: I’m sorry, Liriel. His body is in a state of complete metabolic shutdown. Liriel: You can say he’s dead in less technical terms. You don’t need to hide the truth from me, you don’t need to cloak it in all those medical terminology. I already know. Elena: Fine. Yuki’s dead, Liriel. Liriel: (dully) I know. Elena: Do you want to talk about it, Liriel? Need a shoulder to cry on? Liriel: (dully: she is still in shock) I guess. (angrily) I didn’t want him to do it, whatever the hell it was that he did. I never would have asked him to. Elena: I know that you wouldn’t have. Liriel: I should have known that he’d pull some stunt like this. It was just typical for him to do something stupid. He was the most undisciplined, stupidest-(breaks down) Elena: Nicest, best guy there ever was. Liriel: I never knew what to do with him. Ever. Elena: What happened, exactly? Liriel: The last thing I remember is that I was just lying there, floating out of my body, and thinking ‘hey, this is it. I’m finally going to die. It’s not so bad, after all.’ Then the next thing I know, I’m pulled back by something, and from far away I hear a voice saying ‘I love you.’. I open my eyes, and I see her standing there, and Yuki’s lying on the floor. Elena: Her? Liriel: Death. A young woman about our age…all she said was that it was his choice to give you his life. Then she turned and left. God, I swear to you, Elena, I tried to call her back, but she wouldn’t listen. She just wouldn’t listen. (breaks down again: Elena rubs her back soothingly.) I tried to go after her, but my body just wouldn’t move. I couldn’t get up. Elena: I believe you, Liriel. You couldn’t do anything. Your system was still in shock. Liriel: I thought for the longest time that Yuki was nothing but a pain in the ass. Sure, he was my friend and all, but he was so damn annoying at times. Elena: At times? Liriel: Oh, yes. I still remember hearing you scream when he sang Modern Major General for three hours straight and wouldn’t shut up. And I Spy? I thought that you were going to kill him for sure. ‘And that’s when I shot him, your Honor’, indeed. I think I was about to shoot him and I was only listening. Elena: But I would put up with his stupid songs-yes, even Modern Major General- and that I Spy game and his babbling, because it meant that he had come back. I wouldn’t say anything. I would even ask him to sing stupid songs and play I Spy with me, if it meant that he was alive again. Liriel: So would I…so would I. Elena: How did you feel about him? Liriel: Me? Elena: Yes, you. Liriel: I thought he was a pain in the ass. Elena: I know you did. That has already been established on both our parts. Is that all? Liriel: (considers for a moment, and shakes her head) I would be lying to myself if I said that was all I felt for him. And I’ve done that for far too long. You know that I’m not exactly good at relationships, especially considering how often I’ve bugged you for advice. Hell, it would be better to say that I’m absolutely awful, downright terrible. Everyone I’ve loved has either hurt me or left me. And the ones who stayed…they were nothing. They meant nothing. So, after years of that shit, I just decided to forget about it. Then along comes Yuki, there he was. I knew that he’d never hurt me, and I knew that he’d never leave me, and I knew-hell, everyone did-that he loved me. I knew it. And I just didn’t want to admit it. And he gave so much, and wanted so little in return.(is starting to break down yet again) All he wanted was a kind word or a smile, and what did I give him in the years I knew him? I gave him absolutely nothing but grief. And why, may you ask, did I do something that stupid? It’s because I think that I saw something that I wanted, and I was afraid. I was afraid to take it. Elena: (getting pretty emotional herself.) You thought it wouldn’t work out, knew in your heart that it wouldn’t work out. You were just protecting yourself from getting hurt again, that’s all. Liriel: But it’s still damned unfair, the way he just put up with the way I treated him. I sure know that I wouldn’t have put up with the way I was treating him, if I were him. He trusted me enough to tell me his greatest secret, and I made fun of him. Elena: What was it? Liriel: That he’d waited his entire life for a person he loved enough, to share himself with…that he’d saved himself for her-or him, even, that special person. Whoever they were. Yuki liked being impartial. Anyway, I laughed at him, not seeing the hint that he was talking about me. I was so damned blind. Elena: What did you say to him? Liriel: I told him to go out and catch himself a unicorn, because virgins are rare these days and they were probably getting lonely. Then I didn’t think anything else of it. Of course. Elena: (reaches out to her) Liriel- Liriel: Maybe, maybe I should have tried one more time. I could have done that for him, if I had been willing to even try. But now I can’t. (snorts sardonically) At least I should have screwed him just once. Elena: Why? I understand your reasoning, kind of, but why? Liriel: Hell, it’s not like I’m doing anything else. Elena: (sadly) I guess it’s one way to deal with unrequited love, huh? Liriel: (leans into her shoulder, but turns and speaks to the audience) All love is unrequited, Elena. All of it. Elena: All? Liriel: All. (pauses) Maybe…if I had said something sooner…he wouldn’t have felt driven to make that choice…to make that bargain with death… Elena: (shakes her head) Liriel…even if you had said you had loved him…Yuki wouldn’t have been happy. All I can guess is that-he had a death wish. Liriel: Huh? Elena: His family died a long time ago, in a freak accident, and he was the only one who lived. Yuki: (to Ariel) Do you decide who lives or dies? Because if you do, you made a mistake. Ariel: I am only the guide…not the one who decides. Elena: Survivor’s guilt. Yuki: Why was I the one who lived when everyone else died? Elena: He couldn’t ever forgive himself for being alive. Liriel: I don’t understand. Elena: I think he thought that he didn’t deserve your love…and that there was no way you would ever love him. Liriel: (bitterly) So there was nothing we could have done to save him? Elena: Unless he forgave himself for living…then no. And now it’s too late. Liriel: I never would have asked him to make that choice. Never. Elena: I know. I know. But we couldn’t have stopped him…but God, I wish we could have… (Ariel snaps her fingers. Elena exits, Liriel returns to her former position, lying down and dying.) Ariel: You have seen one possible path, the destiny that you have chosen by invoking K’mana. Is this what you want to pass? Yuki: What other choice do I have? Let Liriel die? Not a chance. Ariel: Then you have chosen death. (points at him) I ask you again-why? Why have you chosen this path? Yuki: For her. Ariel: To give up everything for the sake of one woman. (shakes her head sadly) Child, you have a rare soul. Yuki: Why do you care, which one of us lives and which of us dies? Why do you want her to die and me to live? You are Death. You are not supposed to care. You said that death comes to us all in time. Ariel: I- Yuki: Do what you have come here for. You are Death-then kill me. (he crosses to stand at Liriel’s bedside.) Ariel: (crosses to him, and traces a symbol on his forehead.) You invoked K’mana, to give your life to someone who was meant to die. Let it be done as you have chosen. (takes a step backward) There is no turning back now. Yuki: There never was. Death is the same as life-there is never a chance to go back. Ariel: And you are not afraid? Yuki: Death long ago ceased to hold any fear for me. (to Liriel) I would have followed you into fire, into storm, into darkness…but you will not follow me into death. Not yet. (bends down and gently kisses her on the forehead. He straightens up, and wavers.) I…love you. (slides to the floor and lies there, still. Liriel wakes up and sees Yuki.) Liriel: (screams, then screams again) No! Ariel: It was his choice. He gave his life for you…chose to die so that you can live. Liriel: (hysterically) I know who you are, Death. Take it back! Take it back! (struggles to get up, but can’t.) I was ready to die! Take it back! Ariel: I cannot. He invoked K’mana, the only flaw in the Song of Creation that allows another to die in someone’s place, for then the balance would be kept. I cannot act against it. (gives her a look) Such love he bore for you, that he would have sacrificed himself, even after I showed him the future that would result from that choice. No human has ever defied me like that, for the sake of another. No one. (walks closer) I envy you, Liriel, that someone loved you that much, even when it seemed like you didn’t love him back. No one will ever love me like that. Liriel: But-why- Ariel: Live the life he gave you, girl. And remember him, as I will,-for the people you have lost, and the dreams that have faded, will live on in your heart, as long as you remember. (Ariel turns and exits) Liriel: (quoting) ‘Tread lightly on my ground, or you will be left with nothing but the memory of a memory.’ (bitterly) And that is the way it always ends for me-those I love only live in a memory of a memory of a memory… (lights fade to black, amidst the sounds of Liriel’s sobbing. Curtain.)

The Crown of Thorns “There is a traitor among you.” The half-elven woman reported. Julie Shadowdancer looked straight at the resistance leader as she said this. “I nearly died trying to uncover this plan-and escape with the information. You don’t have to believe me, but-“ “What is it?” Lissandrien L’riel asked. The young dark elf raised an elegant eyebrow at her. “The Society of Sorcerers has found a way to implant sleeping personalities into people.” Julie said. Lissandrien’s eyebrow arched higher. “Sleeping? As in hidden?” he asked. “Yes.” She said. “A personality imbedded so deep into the psyche that you don’t even know it is there.” “How is that possible?” Kyerith Marin, Lissandrien’s lover, asked from his place by the elf’s side. “Sophisticated magic. My people have been trying to find a way to do something like that for centuries.” Lissandrien replied. Julie nodded. “This personality has been reporting your movements to the Society for some time now. It would have to be one of you in this room, because you are the upper ranks of this resistance, and they need vital information.” The half-elven mage said. “Any one of us could be the traitor.” Kyerith said, looking around the room. “Even-“ Julie finished for him. “Even you.” Kyerith shut his mouth, not wanting to think about that possibility. “How does this work?” Lissandrien asked. “I thought you were a really skilled mage?” Rigby Delri, cleric of the war god, Diebus, asked. “I am skilled in Bardic magic, but that is the wrong kind of magic for permanent alterations of the mind.” Lissandrien said, crossing his arms over his slender chest. The renegade dark elf looked grim. “And I never learned anything of the twisted mind-magics my people are capable of…that is reserved for females, the priestesses and High Priestess of the Queen of Darkness. Men, however powerful, are not considered ‘worthy’ of that ‘gift’. I was a necromancer: I dealt in death, not in life. I have not touched that power in thirty years.” “Oh.” Rigby said. The cleric was not a resistance member, per se, but he was Lissandrien’s contact among the ranks of Diebus: he knew that another cleric, a priestess of the Dark Maiden, Valeria, was among Lissandrien’s contacts. Arilyn M’hael was another renegade, like Lissandrien, and the two of them were the only drow to ever forsake the Lightless Realms. He had been the only one to turn away from the pull of the death-magic, and she had been the only priestess of the Queen of Darkness to ever forsake the goddess of their people. Even though he had known Lissandrien for a long time, the drow still remained somewhat of a mystery to him. “A new personality is embedded so deep into the subconscious that the person it is done to does not even know: the Society can work over someone pretty damn thoroughly. However, this personality remains mostly dormant, sleeping, until a key is sent into his or her mind. Once this happens, the old personality is destroyed, and the new one takes over, forever. Whoever has the alter probably has no idea of what was done to them: they have no idea that the personality exists.” Lissandrien frowned. The former necromancer, turned bard/ranger looked very serious, even more than he usually did. “You don’t have to believe me-“ she began. “Can you prove it?” Lissandrien asked, his alto voice deadly quiet. “You mentioned a password.” Kyerith said. The human swordsman put his arm around the elf’s slender waist. “Do you have the key?” Julie exploded. “Of course I do! Finding out the key was what nearly got me killed!” she turned to Lissandrien, blue eyes flashing, and her long golden hair coming loose of her braid. “And I can prove it. Let me do a mental probe…all I have to do is touch the minds of everyone in this room and give them the password. That’s all. The personality will reveal itself then.” “I cannot agree for everyone in this room.” Lissandrien said, and turned to the rest of his command staff, Rigby, and Arilyn. “Do you consent to this?” Everyone nodded. “We gotta do what we gotta do.” Sophia Laurel, a rogue human sorceress, said cheerfully. The Air Adept bounced up and down with barely contained energy. “Tomorrow, then. Do your test.” Lissandrien said, and his violet eyes went hard. “I hold you responsible for whoever you kill by doing this.” “Kill?” Julie asked. “I won’t be killing anyone.” “Yes, you will.” the drow said. “The death of the soul is as final a death as that of the body…even more so.” “Yes.” Julie agreed, knowing Lissandrien wouldn’t agree unless she took that death on herself freely. “I will be responsible…but more lives will be saved than if I do not do this.” Lissandrien met her gaze, looking up at her: the half-elf was a good five inches taller than the resistance leader, who while tall by the standards of his people, was small by any other standards. Dark elves were smaller than even the surface elves, though not by much. “I won’t be alone with any of you.” Julie said firmly. “So here’s a message for you. The personality has a strong sense of self-preservation…so it will attack anything it sees as a threat. And I am a threat. If I live until tomorrow, I’ll do the test.” The rogue sorceress turned and left the chamber. Several minutes later, everyone else left the room, except for Lissandrien and Kyerith. “Lis-“ Kyerith began. The slight man turned deep violet eyes on him, shimmering with silent tears. As he was used to holding his emotions within him, a habit carrying over from his days as a necromancer, it was a bad sign if Lissandrien was upset enough to actually show it. Kyerith drew the small man close, cradling the elf gently. “It’s alright, Lis. It’ll be alright.” Lissandrien was pliant in his arms, almost passive, decidedly not a good sign. “Lis? What’s wrong?” Kyerith asked. Lissandrien didn’t respond for a moment. And when he finally did, he didn’t answer the question, and spoke not in Common, but in Elven. “We will meet again…not here, but in the place where no shadows fall.” *** In the middle of the night, Kyerith sleepily opened his eyes. Lissandrien lay beside him, eyes closed, deep in the trance that was the elven equivalent of sleep. Kyerith reached over and brushed the long, white bangs out of the closed eyes. Lissandrien looked peaceful when he “slept.” He was beautiful no matter what, like a delicate jet figurine, but his true face came out when he was deep in trance. Kyerith had heard of a custom that someone wishing to marry would watch their prospective mate while he or she slept, for three nights, in order to find out what their true face looked like without the masks. His Lis would have been snatched up long ago in that country, for his true face was one of such beauty that it outshone his physical loveliness. For that matter, all the drow except for Lissandrien and Arilyn would never find anyone willing to marry them in that country, for the dark elves, beautiful as they were, were-with those two exceptions-a cruel, evil race. Kyerith frowned, a sudden sense breaking into his reverie. There was something very wrong… “Lis.” He gently shook the elf. “Yes?” Lissandrien asked, immediately out of trance. “Something’s wrong.” Kyerith said. Lissandrien was about to reply, when the door suddenly slammed open. “What happened?” Lissandrien demanded of Aidan Vidrielle. Kyerith was very grateful for the blanket that was pulled up to the willowy sorcerer’s chin, and silently blessed his lover’s modesty. He was certain that if Lissandrien could have blushed-his jet-black skin was too dark to show if he did-that his face would have been nearly purple, considering that neither he nor Kyerith were dressed. “Someone tried to kill Lady Julie.” Aidan said. “We’ll be there in a minute.” Kyerith said, and Aidan left after a pointed glare from the swordsman, shutting the door behind him. Aidan was much too interested in Lissandrien for his liking, and Kyerith wasn’t exactly fond of him. Kyerith slid out of bed, and retrieved his clothes, dressing as fast as he could. He grabbed Lissandrien’s tunic and trousers from where they were draped over the back of a chair, and tossed them in his direction. The drow-if it were possible-dressed even faster than Kyerith had. The swordsman frowned. Wait a moment-I don’t think that I put his clothes there last night. I don’t think that either of us were thinking that coherently. After a moment, he tossed the thought aside. I don’t remember things anyway, so I’m probably wrong. *** Julie was badly shaken, but otherwise physically unharmed. “What happened?” Lissandrien asked gently. “Besides the obvious.” “I told you the personality regarded me as a threat.” Julie said, taking a deep breath. “It was a magical attack.” “Magical?” Kyerith queried, exchanging looks with Lissandrien. “Yes.” Julie said. “It was a death spell.” “Necromancy.” Lissandrien said flatly. “The only reason I’m not dead is because whoever cast it was badly out of practice.” Julie said. “They were powerful enough to easily kill me.” Lissandrien sighed. “First thing in the morning, we are going to have you do that test of yours.” He said. “Would the alter try this again?” “Probably not, now that suspicion has been raised.” Julie said. “I’ll get Rigby to do a protection spell for you. I should have thought of that before.” Lissandrien said. Julie was giving him a strange look. “Lissandrien-you said you were a necromancer once, right?” “Yes.” The drow said. “I still am, for once you embrace Death, it will never let you go. But I have not used those spells in thirty years.” Silence. “How many necromancers are in the command staff?” Julie asked. “Not counting you.” “Three.” Lissandrien said. “All apostate-they have turned off that path.” “Alright.” Julie said shakily. “I’ll send Rigby down.” He said quietly. “Thank you.” Julie replied. She still watched Lissandrien closely. *** Half an hour later, after Lissandrien sent Rigby to put up the protection spell, Kyerith lay awake. Julie said it was a necromancer who attacked her. An out-of-practice necromancer. There are four out-of-practice necromancers. But I can’t believe it’s Lissandrien. It can’t be. He looked over at his sleeping lover, remembering when Lissandrien had been kidnapped by the Society of Sorcerers. He had been rescued two days later, somehow… No. It’s not Lissandrien. Kyerith told himself firmly. It took him a very long time to go back to sleep, however… *** Julie stared into his eyes as she touched his mind. A moment later, she disengaged, and smiled at him. “You’re fine.” she said to Kyerith. The swordsman sighed in relief. She had gone through almost the entire command staff, as they stood outside on the warm spring day, and now she turned to Lissandrien. Blue met violet, as she slipped into his mind- Lissandrien’s hands flew to his head, as if his mind was being split open. Kyerith’s mouth fell open. You’re killing him! he mentally shrieked at Julie, and suddenly realized what had just occurred. No, no, no- he felt his heart break, shatter beyond repair. Lissandrien’s once-soft, sparkling violet eyes were cold, as he pointed at Julie furiously. “You ruined my cover! You’re dead, Julie Shadowdancer. Do you hear me? You’re dead!” It was Lissandrien’s voice. The way he moved. But it wasn’t him behind the eyes, behind the words. Lissandrien would never have threatened a woman he considered a friend. Never would have threatened to kill her. Kyerith wanted to weep. Lissandrien…it had been Lissandrien. Lissandrien had been the spy for the Society of Sorcerers…it had been him, all along. But Lissandrien had made it clear that Kyerith was in charge in case anything happened to him. Swallowing his grief at Lissandrien’s death, Kyerith pointed at the man who had once been Lissandrien L’riel. I won’t forgive you, Julie. Not for this…not what you did to him. “Lock him up, now!” Kyerith shrieked. The other necromancers, who could handle Lissandrien’s magic, stepped forward- And froze. At the far end of the clearing, a man dressed in the white robes and insignia of the Society of Sorcerers stood there. He beckoned to the slender dark elf, who began to walk towards him. No one else moved. Kyerith watched as the small figure turned to face them all, who had once been his friends. We will meet again…not here, but in the place where no shadows fall. A perfect memory… He wouldn’t let the Society spoil all he had left of Lissandrien. Kyerith swallowed, and reclaimed his discarded crossbow. The weapon was loaded, and Kyerith knew that while he would never be an archer, he was fairly good with the weapon. “Kyerith?” Arilyn whispered, her lavender eyes brimming with tears. Lissandrien had been her best friend, after all. “In the place where no shadows fall.” Kyerith whispered. Lissandrien had died the moment Julie had opened the lock in his mind. Now all there was to do was make an end. The crossbow bolt would pierce through armor. Kyerith had no doubts as to its ability to pierce a fragile, unarmored elven chest. Kyerith raised the crossbow, took aim, and fired. ~Owari~

Calonderiel curses in Elven, as he glares down at the dazed bard. "You have the hardest skull of anyone I ever met." he remarks sarcastically. "If you are going to be clumsy, stay out of tree branches." His slender, long-fingered hands are illuminated by a faint light, as he reaches down and heals Gabriel. "Next time, you are out of luck." the sorcerer says coldly, turns, and walks away, cloak flaring behind him. Obviously, he was not in a good mood. ((OOC: when is he ever?))

Ashke, I'm not exactly good at putting my thoughts into words-or, at least anything outside fiction. Always remember this-life holds those who wish to hurt you, but life will also bring you people who love you. Like me. I will always be here for you. I want you to stay here...if you need me, I'll be as close as I can. -Lynne-

This is really good, and really surreal, Merry-chan. Is this what the Sandman stories inspired you to write, because if they are, I'm going to read them too and be corrupted! *gleeful laugh of doom*

Choices Midori Shinnite never fully appreciated the meaning of destiny before. Not the bitter taste the strange syllables of the English word left in her mouth, on her tongue, as she spoke them. Three simple, short syllables. But oh, how much they meant, a world and more of pain. Destiny had taken so much from her and those she knew, too much. The chance to live normal lives…hell, if she were to be honest, the chance to *live* at all. The dark-haired woman picked up her glass and drained the pale liquid inside it in a single gulp. Her hands not yet starting to shake, she reached for the bottle nearby and filled the glass again. Once again, she tossed down the alcohol like water. Sake wouldn’t help her forget. It could only take the edge off her pain-for how long? An hour? Two hours? A night? The memories would be back again, in the morning. And with her luck, the hangover of the millennium. But for Shinnite, a night was all she needed. It would all be over in the morning, anyway. If she sat oh-so-still, and *listened*, she could hear, ever so faintly, both in her ears and the back of her mind, the sound of all New York City celebrating. It was New Year’s Eve, tonight. December 31st, 1999. The whole world was poised on the passing of one age and the beginning of another. But most didn’t know that the whole world was also poised between the candle and the star, between the light and the darkness: that the next day, the first day of the new millennium, would bring either their salvation or their destruction. Shinnite sobbed once, her soft alto voice a long drawn-out note of broken crystal, as she flung the glass she had been drinking out of against the wall. The shards of broken glass fell without another sound into the sink. It had all been coming down to this. Her whole life: she’d spent six years running all over the world, but she couldn’t escape her destiny in the end. To choose: would she save humanity or would she destroy it? Shinnite took a long swallow of the rice wine, and put the bottle down. “And did I make the right choice?” Shinnite asked the empty kitchen, her voice slightly slurred. If she had chosen the other way, Cole wouldn’t have been forced into the role of the destroyer, his personality completely erased. The laughing, kind young man she had become friends with wouldn’t have turned into a cruel, cold-but-apathetic man responsible for God knows how many deaths? And Mordekai…he wouldn’t have had to lose his twin, have to fight against him now. He wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that both Shinnite and Cole would not live after tomorrow. Whatever outcome came about-one of them would live, and the other would die. How many had died, over the past year? Too many. The earthquakes, that came from the destruction of the barriers that her Children of Heaven had been unable to protect, that she herself had been unable to save: how many had died in them, not knowing that their deaths had been caused by something other than a freak accident? And Shinnite couldn’t forget…that there were only two others in the apartment, two of the six who had once shared her apartment with her. There had once been seven Children of Heaven, seven Seals of Protection, as there had once been seven Children of Earth, seven Angels of Death. Of the four who were now gone, two had been killed by Cole’s own hands. And Tiller…she couldn’t ever forget Tiller, the vampire who had been killed in Cole’s initial awakening as her opposite. That made three, plus two more…that made five. She would have lifted her glass (except that she now had no glass, having thrown it against the wall in a sparkling shower of glimmering shards) in a silent toast of remembrance to her fallen friends, but as she had no glass, lifted the bottle instead. Tiller. Shinnite still woke up screaming sometimes, remembering the horrible moment when she had finally made her choice. When Cole had gone mad…when the whole damn world had gone insane. She remembered being pinned against the wall with glass in her hands, as she screamed and screamed, unable to even *call* her powers against the dark being who wore her friend’s face. Still remembered Tiller, strung up like a martyr on a garrote wire cross in a sick parody of the Crucifixion, wooden stake driven through his heart. Remembered as Cole had simply left her there…and mercifully, she blacked out then. She couldn’t tell the police anything. She…couldn’t. It was obvious she hadn’t done it, considering they found her still pinned to the wall by glass shards and it had been her screaming that had finally prompted a neighbor to call the police, but when they still couldn’t get anything out of her, the case was finally closed. “Poor girl…her mind must have been in shock, to see her friend killed like that. She just doesn’t want to remember.” It was then the battle had begun, as Seals and Angels had gathered in New York City. Shinnite became friends with the other Seals…cared about them. But then…they died. Passed beyond the veil forever. Evendele Evenstar. A gentle, soft-spoken healer with powers beyond compare, he could bring a newly dead person back from beyond the veil. But he could not heal himself…and he could not leave a person to suffer. A curse of his unique Empathy. He had met the Angel Dreamer, Kris Valete, in a Dreamscape, feeling his years-old pain, amplified by the nine years that had passed since the only one who had ever cared for him had died, and been drawn into the seer’s vision. And somehow, through those secret meetings, had fallen in love with him, though they were supposed to be enemies. Kris had finally chosen to betray the Angels and come with ‘Ven… But they were betrayed. Cole somehow found out about Kris’s escape and where he had gone, and had gone after him. Furious, the Shadowed One had tried to kill his traitorous Dreamgazer-but Evendele took the death spell instead, fulfilling the prophecy of his birth: “He will live for the One, but die for the one he loves.” Kris refused to go back, and (vindictively!) willed himself into a coma once more. Only a Dreamgazer who had suffered as Kris had would choose to get revenge through the total renouncement of the world, and the denial of the knowledge he had Seen in his visions. Shinnite smiled bitterly, through her tears. The Shadowed One couldn’t even leave Kris alone, to mourn for the death of the only other one he ever loved…Cole forced Kris out of his self-willed coma again, the same way he had in the beginning, and it was her fault. Kris had chosen to pass a message on to her, and in order to bring her into his Dreamscape, had to weaken the walls-allowing Cole a chance to get in. There would never be any peace for Kris. Kris wasn’t dead…but she drank a toast for him anyway. He had never gotten a chance to truly live…Etai, her own beloved’s brother, had been his first chance…and Evendele had been the miracle second. Despite what the saying said, there would be no third lucky time. Kris would die without ever having truly lived. The next to die was not long in coming. Suurelindo, the winged Storm Adept. Shinnite had honestly liked him: a bit clumsy, but he had given her an excuse to get rid of some ugly stuff she had hated for years. After all, if it was shattered beyond repair, even someone with her powers couldn’t put it back together. He had been the peacemaker after ‘Ven’s death, managing to calm down even the temperamental Aya. But Victoria had sent him to the Empire State Building, to protect the barrier there. Morwen, the Lady of the Darkness, had been the Angel sent to destroy it. She acted first, by summoning the Black Wind-and Suurelindo’s counterspell, of an equal-strength but non-evil wind, had unforeseen consequences. When the two spells mixed, they produced a windstorm of massive strength- Strong enough to blow both Adepts from the building. If Suurelindo had been able to use his wings, he would have been able to save himself, as Morwen was lacking wings and unable to fly. Unfortunately, she grabbed him and had an equal hold on both of his wings, and brought him down with her. While the barrier had been saved-both opponents died. Shinnite drank a toast to honor Morwen’s memory as well. Even though she hadn’t liked the black-haired, overly sensual Dark Adept-anyone who would toy with a child by killing small children in front of him every time he answered an open-ended question “wrong was sick and twisted-she had still been human. And she had still deserved to live, if only a little, because all human life was precious. And…if she had chosen differently, she, not Cole, would have worked with Morwen. Probably given her that order to mess with Zad, too. It wasn’t right of her to judge…not when she knew her own dark side. Aya. The fiery priestess of the Grand Shrine of Ise with a temper as red as her ruby hair, the hidden maiden and high priestess, had known of the price she would always have to pay. Every Hidden Priestess, granted access to the complete spiritual power of the shrine, had a vision upon her ascension to the office, of the time and place of her death. Aya had known she would die…but had told no one. Victoria, their Dreamgazer, had sent her on her last journey…knowing as well. She had given a book to Linden before she left, in which she had written that she knew she was going to die. None of the other Seals had wanted to accept that. ‘Ven’s death and Suurelindo’s were already too late to prevent, but Aya, Shinnite and the others wanted to save Aya if they could…but it was too late. Aya had already faced the eerie Angel, Mireille, and her animated army of toy soldiers, with nothing but her formidable spiritual energy. She hadn’t even taken her katana with her. All she had was her power…and the knowledge of a spell so dark that few used it. A spell that would inflict any wounds that the caster received onto the ones who caused them…because it would not heal those wounds, it was only really good for an extended battle *or* a suicide mission. Not knowing what manner of spell Aya had set into motion, Mireille ordered her toy soldiers to fire. It would be their doom. The Seals arrived too late…and only Evendele could have saved Aya, brought her back from the cold embrace of death. But he was dead already, and all they could do was watch as she and her opponent died, and put chrysanthemums on her grave, for fall had come. Shinnite drank a toast to Mireille, too. Enemy or not, everyone needed someone to remember them after they were gone. No one deserved to be forgotten. And Mireille…admittedly, according to Keye via Bo, the woman had been creepy as all hell, lavishing lots of love on the toys that she brought to life through her talent, her “children”-but she wasn’t as evil and twisted as some of the Angels were. She was just…sinister. With surprise, Shinnite noticed that the bottle was already only half-full…and it had been full when she had started. Mentally shrugging, she continued on with her task of getting dead drunk. It had been quiet for a while, after Aya’s death. Both sides knew how little time they had left…it was kind of an Indian summer, really. All of November- for Aya had died on Samhain, All Hallows’ Eve, the night when the veil between the worlds was thinnest, the Day of the Dead when the ghosts walked-, both sides bided their time. And, as odd as the idea was for the sides involved in the apocalypse, they went out and had fun. Why not? When you know you’re going to die in a month, you might as well take a hold of happiness with both hands. Touch heaven or you’ll regret it forever. The only time Shinnite ever truly touched happiness. Linden. The Sumeragi clan head had been aloof with her-though Shinnite had made it quite clear how she felt about him-, as he was with everyone else…but then, one dark, rainy night the month before ‘Ven’s death, everything came out. The same night that Glen Stuart died-Shinnite took a tiny sip of sake. After all, while he had been human and deserved a little remembrance, he didn’t deserve much, and even *Shinnite* thought this-, and passed his own office of death and madness to his killer-Linden. That night, Shinnite got the whole twisted story, of the eighteen-year dance of death, darkness, and insanity between those two, from a long-ago meeting of a child and a teenager beneath an ethereal cherry tree, fed on blood and tears. Of Linden’s own love for her, but his own belief that it could never be. For her sake, it would be better that she find someone else. And that same night, Linden left. //I will not betray you by becoming a Child of Earth…but I can no longer remain a child of Heaven.// Shinnite sobbed harshly, remembering. // It was a dream, Shinnite. A beautiful dream…but it was a dream nonetheless.// He had turned away and left her there, that beautiful man with his mismatched miko’s eyes, blue and green. The man who held magic’s own balance within him, darkness and light, death and life. The man who she had given her heart to, but who felt that she deserved someone better. Shouldn’t be tied to a man whose hands were soaked in blood-overlooking the fact that she was not precisely the innocent, either. //Sayonara, kiboo no hoshi.// But he came back, finally realizing where his heart lay, and where his destiny belonged. Simply walked back into her life. And the pieces fell into place… It was a golden time…and Shinnite grew to believe she could be happy. Even though both of them knew they could not marry…because there was no time. Not yet. Not until everything was all over with. Linden’s grandmother came from Kyoto for a visit…and gave them her blessing. Though she asked-rather bluntly-when he would marry Shinnite, “make an honest woman of her”, all three of them knew that the two couldn’t marry. Not until after the Last Battle, for there was no guarantee that either of them would survive-Linden didn’t want to give Shinnite the gift of widow’s black for a wedding present, and if Shinnite died on the Last Day, then everything would be over. Shinnite profoundly wished that she had dragged Linden to the altar. Be damned…at least she would have been a married woman, even if for only a short time. /And now there will never be time./ Shinnite thought, laying her hand against her flat stomach, where no life stirred, where no life would ever stir. /And I will never have a family. Never. Even if I was pregnant with Linden’s child, there would be no time./ And Cole realized his rival’s happiness as well. And used it against her…while the two were out on a walk, less than a week ago, he attacked them. Shinnite had been his target. Why? Why had Cole grown bored, and decided that he would try to kill her before the Promised Day? Was he that eager to end the world? But Linden…she still remembered seeing him slide out of shadow, in front of the psychic blast that would have killed her. He had used his Shadow magic-a talent that he used far less than ‘jitsu-to get to her in time. To save her life, if not his. Every terrible moment was still etched into her mind, and would be as long as she continued to live. As Linden crumpled to the ground like a broken doll, light fading from his once-bright eyes. //Shinnite…my star of hope…the people you have lost…and the dreams that have faded…they will live on in your heart…as long as you remember.// Something in her had died as well, the moment her love died as well. Kris’s dream-sent warning to Mordekai had come too late. The other Seals had come, only to find her kneeling covered in Linden’s blood, cradling his lifeless body in her arms, as she called the fires of heaven down. Only realizing that Cole had fled-trying to save his own skin before Shinnite’s summoning burned him alive-stopped her summoning, though she had accidentally almost killed Mordekai-through tear-stained eyes, he looked exactly like his brother. The twins were identical, except for the goatee that Mordekai sported, which wasn’t good for Shinnite. That had been a week ago, on the night of the Savior’s birth. Christmas, the night of hope and the salvation of man. /Merry Christmas./ Shinnite thought sarcastically, draining the rest of the bottle at a gulp. She fumbled around for another bottle, but couldn’t find where she had put it. /Supposed to be the night of hope and all. Praising God for the salvation he finally gave us. Well, it looks like humanity’s salvation is in *my* hands. And God just had to take the one thing that made my life worth it from me./ Shinnite laid her head on the cheap Formica countertop, and sobbed. Consuming the entire bottle of alcohol had done nothing to take the edge off her pain: the faces of all the dead still haunted her. “Hey.” The soft voice came from beside her. Shinnite looked up to find Bo standing there. The small man slid onto a stool next to her. “Hi, Bo.” Shinnite said dully, glad to hear that her words didn’t slur as badly as she expected. Bo gave her a sharp look. “Have you been drinking again?” he asked, and without waiting for her to answer, picked up the bottle and weighed it. “The whole thing?” “Hai.” Shinnite muttered. “Shinni, this isn’t good for you.” Bo said. “My current *job* isn’t good for me, either, but you don’t see me changing it!” Shinnite flared up at him, her amethyst eyes flashing. A moment later, she sighed. “Sorry.” “Don’t worry about it, Shinnite.” Bo said, and sat down next to her. “A whole bottle, and you can still talk coherently? What an alcohol tolerance!” Shinnite smiled weakly. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” “Everything does.” Bo said with a smile, and waved his hand. Abruptly, he was serious again. “Keye came to see me today.” Shinnite already knew what Keye had said to him. After all, the Technomancer was best friends with Kris. What a pair of disaffected Angels if she’d ever seen one. “He and Kris are both…” “Very sorry for what happened.” Shinnite said sardonically, and felt bad a moment later. Keye had been a good friend to her, and Kris risked Cole’s wrath pretty much daily by feeding her that information. They had both been through a lot, and both of them understood. “Yeah.” Bo agreed. “I need another drink.” Shinnite tried to reach across the countertop again, but Bo grabbed her hand. “You’ve had quite enough already. Alcohol won’t help the pain.” Bo said intensely, staring into her eyes. “Then what will?” Shinnite asked. “Time? I don’t have enough time.” “Need a shoulder?” Bo offered quietly, holding his arms out to her. Shinnite took the invitation, and sobbed into his shoulder like a small child. He let her. “I don’t just need a shoulder, Bo. I need them back. I want Tiller back, and Evendele back, and Aya, and Suurelindo, and Linden…I want them all back!” Shinnite whispered in between sobs. “I know.” The Austrian said gently. “But I know they won’t be coming back…that I won’t ever see them again.” Shinnite said bitterly. “Yes, you will. One way or another.” Bo said, and let her cry herself out. “Bo…if you could make the choice again, knowing what you know now-would you take the job that Akiko offered? Would you find me, knowing what would happen once you did?” Shinnite asked. “Shinnite. Everything would have happened, either way. I’m just glad that I knew you.” Bo said, and winked. “Even if you make horrible cookies and can’t cook.” He was trying to make her laugh, and it worked, the ethereal sound echoing in the empty room for all too short of a moment. “You guys always ate them!” Shinnite accused him. “Nope. The time Linden’s grandmother came to visit? Aya stole them and tossed them out the window.” Bo said mischievously. “Why am I not surprised.” Shinnite said, rolling her eyes. “Shinnite-“ Bo began, and heard the bell tolling outside. “It’s midnight. New Years’ Day.” Shinnite said dully. “Shinnite-“ “Today, everything will be decided.” “Shinnite!” If there had been choices before, there were now none. Destiny was calling, and she would not be denied. ~Owari~

Wow...this is really creative and really in-depth, ashke. *saves onto her hard drive* It answers all the questions I had about Damon's history...and more. *grins* Good job as usual-I always like hearing about the history of your characters, and this is one of the best you've come up with! ~Lynne~

((OOC: Sorry, sorry! *whimpers* It is kinda hard to continue when the DM is MIA...) Calonderiel walks through the darkness, his black boots making no sound. What am I? the slender elf thinks. I never fought against what must be...but now, I am beginning to question all that I represent. "I have made my choice." Calonderiel mutters to himself. "There is no way that I will change my mind." Not even hell and the Shadow Rising can bar my way. Maybe, this way, my life will have meaning... Calonderiel's eyes flicker around, half-expecting one of the party members to pop out of nowhere. They are too curious...it is better for them not to care about me. When I die...there will be nothing left but a memory. A wind blows out of nowhere, as his eyes go black with concentration and he forms the words in his mind, then touches the minds of the rest of the party, wherever they are. Tread lightly on my ground, or all you will be left with is the memory of a memory. his hauntingly eerie alto voice echoes in their minds, as if from far away.

Elwen sighed under her breath as she surveyed her appearance in her mirror. While she wasn't really vain- :I don't know, 'neesan. I've seen you glued to your mirror for hours before Damon even arrived-: Aural twitted her gently on her vanity. : Otouto, shut that big mouth of yours. You know perfectly well you spent more time in front of a mirror than I ever did.: Elwen said, her loving tone taking any sting out of her words. : Everyone knows I'm beautiful.: Aural remarked with more bitterness than she had intended. Quickly, she changed the subject, not wanting him to relive any of the memories of what he had suffered at Alban's hands. : Do you want to come, Aural? I'll bring you and Roselyn with me.: she asked, knowing that her younger twin used to be a social butterfly. He had settled down, somewhat, after having to tame the elfshadow that lurked in his moonblade, the confrontation with his darker self having changed something in him, but he had still enjoyed social events-and had unsuccessfully tried to get her to come. It was disquieting to see how their positions had changed. : No thanks, 'neesan. I'm...not in the mood, I guess. I'll just stay here with Roselyn and read her poetry or something.: Elwen sighed-Aural was healing, but it would take a great deal of time. She felt guilty, knowing that it was because of her that Alban had kidnapped Aural in the first place, but also knew that there was nothing she could do about it now. At least she had killed the bastard who had dared to touch her brother. Painfully, too. Almost hesitantly, she touched her long silver hair, loose as usual, and listened as musical chimes, the source revealed as tiny, hanging crystal teardrops interwoven with the pale, silken locks, echoed in the room. She decided, with an unusual flair for the dramatic that she rarely exhibited, that she would come in her kitsune form-and donning that form would warn people that she was /really/, /really/ pissed off still. Slowly, the reborn kitsune turned, eyeing her reflection, as the silk of her gauzy robes whispered against the floor. While Elwen was wearing layers of silk, they were thin enough so that the overall effect was that the cloth was just opaque enough in the right places so that no one got too much of an eyeful-though she still showed a lot of skin. The robe she wore normally in kitsune form was similar, but not as fancy-nor was it comprised of several layers. She hadn’t worn clothes like this in a long time, and it was very odd. /Enough looking in the mirror, Elwen./ the reborn kitsune scolded herself. Sliding her feet into simple geta, she left her room, the slightly raised heel of her sandals making only a small clattering noise against the floor. From what she had heard about this ‘Fall Ball’ in the bits and pieces she had managed to pick up, especially from Aural, all the members of the Pen were invited-and she certainly was a member of the Pen, though she had been absent for a while. Remembering something, she turned back and headed into her room. The kitsune picked up a small necklace from the low table near her bed. Ayshela had attempted to be comforting in those chaotic days shortly after she had left the Pen, passing on a message from Damon to her, and Elwen had attempted to make her something which would show her appreciation. This particular necklace had begun life as a simple opal set in a silver choker, the rainbow’s prism in its heart shifting with every passing moment: Elwen had imbued it with very powerful protection spells, even shifting into kitsune form to lay more on, though she had made sure to keep the spell aura low-key. For the others at the Pen who she considered friends, she would make more of the necklaces, though she hadn't found any more suitable necklaces: the only others who had one were Damon and Aural. : Have a nice time, 'neesan.: Aural said. : Take care of yourself.: Elwen replied. When she arrived at the Ballroom's doors, the guards stopped her. "Who are you?" one of them demanded-she had been gone so long, obviously she wasn't recognized-not that she had known enough people to make a difference, anyway. It didn't help that when she had been at the Pen, it had been in Lirya's form, not the one she was originally born in. Elwen felt a headache coming on, and resisted the urge to smack them silly. "Elwen. Also known as Lirya Moonflower and Iriador Wintermist, and a hundred other aliases." the harper snapped, her voice as cold as the heart of winter. "You're a kitsune." the man said, stating the completely obvious. "And? I'm also an Elf." Elwen crossed her arms over her chest, and drew herself up to her full seven-foot (plus about half an inch, due to her shoes) height, as regal as any queen. "That doesn't change what you are." the first man said. "We can't let you in." "What the hell?!" Elwen cursed fluently in the musical language of the kitsune, and then switched to Elven, then Common-she had been having a really bad couple of months, and this only capped it. Her voice was even colder than it had been, as she glared at them. "You really think I'm going to steal everything? I gave up stealing as a career a while ago." That was precisely the wrong thing to say, of course. "You obviously don't trust Lady Ayshela's judgment." Elwen tried her next tack, leaving the death glares until later. “She can invite whoever she wants, and she chose to invite all the members of the Pen-and I certainly am a member of the Pen.” "We don't trust /you/." one of the doormen said, and Elwen seethed: in this form, she was a good deal more cold and ruthless than in her Elven form, even though this personality had softened by Lirya Moonflower’s influence: she was having a great deal of difficulty suppressing the urge to quickly, efficiently, and coldly dispatch them. “And you don’t have an invitation.” Because I was traveling and just got back today, you bunch of idiots! Wait-Elrohir gave me one, when he met me in the hallway, before Damon found me. Elwen realized quickly, however, that she had left the card in the pocket of the white tunic she had been wearing when she had arrived back at the Pen, and said tunic was . She hadn’t been planning on attending the ball at all, but Aural had talked her into it. His words echoed in her mind. I don’t think I can handle being around that many people, even here. But I’m still curious. I want to see through your eyes, ‘neesan. Live through you, what I can’t bear to face. Not yet. I came mostly because of Aural. There is no damn way in hell that I am letting those idiots of door-wardens keep me out-I promised him that I would come, and I always keep my promises now. Especially to Damon and to Aural. Elwen glared at the duo, the same glare that had had powerful demon lords quailing in front of her. They quailed, all right, but refused her entry, obviously as brainless as she had taken them to be on first glance. Fools. While the sight of the woman said to be the most beautiful of her kind stirred to anger was a breathtaking one, it was also /not/ a good thing, considering her considerable amount of magical power, honed skill in wielding it-and her equal propensity for vindictiveness. Unfortunately, they didn’t think of that. They want me to do this the hard way, then. Angrily, she sang a sharp couplet in Elven, a short spellsong. For all its short length, it didn't lack power: not only was Elwen in her naturally more powerful kitsune form, but her anger. The two guards froze in place. Elwen walked right up to them, her cold golden eyes staring at them. “I have killed more beings than I can count in the years that I have lived. Consider yourselves lucky that I did not add you idiots to that number. If I was who I used to be, you would have been dead a long time ago, for making me lose my temper.” Elwen smirks, the mocking expression lifting the corners of her full lips, as she takes a perverse pleasure in watching them squirm, though they are frozen in place. She gracefully walks past them, and into the Ballroom.

Ending Hour Note: This is a side-story to a longer work, which will come shortly. So, if it seems like things happen too quickly-this takes place in a larger framework. Lian Varden stared out into the dark void in front of her, with dull eyes. The normally luminous blue-green eyes of the young engineer were a glassy, lusterless pale blue, almost colorless. The color of her eyes changed to show her mood, as they always had, and they had been almost colorless for several days now. The young woman sighed, and rubbed at her weary eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. As if she cared anymore. Not only was she tired physically, she was tired emotionally, mentally, down to the depths of her tarnished soul. She lay awake at night, and thought about what had happened a week ago, when the anchor she had clung to had turned his back and walked away, leaving her alone again. The falling domino which set the whole pile falling. She lay awake and thought about her only viable option, her only way out or so it seemed, and every night it seemed to become even more appealing. Lian sighed and stood, tearing herself away from the cold, dark vacuum in front of her, that reached for her with open arms. She looked around-everyone else on the bridge was busy with their own tasks. No one would see-or even care-if she left. It was as if she had disappeared off the face of all the worlds. Another mark in favor. To tell the truth, she had been thinking about this for a while, and what had happened a week ago had only cemented her fortitude to go through with this. It was as if she was trapped, behind these metal walls. But it was her own fault she was here, after all. No one forced her to stay on the Kiboo no Hoshi, no one had forced her to come in the first place. She had made the choice to come, to escape those who still sought the person she had been, sought the knowledge in her mind and the magic at her fingertips. She was trapped here, seemingly safe but falling apart every day, trapped between who she had been and the life she had always dreamed of. Kiboo no Hoshi. Star of Hope. What a joke. To be perfectly fair, it was her choice that had brought her here and her choice which made her stay. No one stuck a gun to her head or a knife to her throat which made her stay on the Kiboo. And she didn’t hate it. If she had been in any rational state of mind, Lian would have realized that it was this she wanted, it was this she truly desired. But she wasn’t. Too much had happened to her in her short lifetime, and she wanted out. It made the situation worse, of course. She wanted to run away the way she had always run, even if it meant giving up everything she had been and everything she had become and everything she had always wanted to be. She had always stayed one step ahead, one step ahead of falling into oblivion. That was the way she had spent her life-she had run away from danger. And she would run from this danger the only way she had left. As Lian stood in her room, a crazy thought ran through her mind. What would Shade think when he found out? Lian laughed, but it was shaky, unhinged laughter. Who the hell cared what Shade thought? Obviously not Lian, because she was doing this, after all. Arrogant bastard. All she had been to him was another pretty face, not something to ever love or cherish. He didn’t care about her: all he saw in her was another of his lost lovers, who had all died long ago. Elanor? Adunial? Keth? Who? She certainly didn’t want to know. She had never been someone to be loved or cherished, she had already lost hope that she would ever be. And in the end, it had happened. Shade had left her: the way everyone else did, and had, and would, and would continue to leave her in the future. That had been a week ago. A week of sorrow, and anger, and apathy. Lian couldn’t take it any more. Everyone treated her differently. Whispered behind her back, over her head, avoided her. They would leave her too, she knew it. Probably dump her on some backwater planet in the most forsaken corner of the galaxy, just abandon her one day. If she was lucky, they’d be a little nicer about it, maybe give her time to get her things before throwing her off. If Lian had been in a rational state of mind, she would have realized that the rest of the crew was worried about her, giving her her space, letting her have time to think things through. That Shade was actually grieving, regretting what he had done in shoving her away, that he didn’t know how to reach out to her again. That he was trying to realize how he was going to pick up the shattered pieces of their friendship. But Lian wasn’t in a rational mood. She snapped out a short command, and sealed the door of her room. Predictably enough, Ki appeared in her room, moments later. The AI avatar of the Kiboo no Hoshi frowned at Lian and informed her that she was supposed to be on the bridge. Lian glared at her and told her to go the hell away. Ki vanished. Lian hit her forehead with a small hand, when she realized that Ki had probably gone to report this to another member of the crew. She would have to work fast, then. She crossed into her small bathroom and shut the door. She wondered if anyone would even care when they found out. They would probably be glad that there was one less mouth to feed and that the burden was gone. People had left her before. Left her forever. No one had ever stayed. Promises meant nothing, which was why Lian had never promised anyone that she would be there forever. She had never known her father: he had been murdered before she had been born. Mother had died of starvation when Lian had been five, giving her daughter as much nourishment as she could. You made the wrong choice, Mother. You should have saved yourself. Talia and her cousins…all of them had been killed by those seeking Lian herself. Harper…run. Disguise yourself. Get off planet, if you can… They had left her, and she had been responsible. Ultimately, the guilt was hers to bear, why they were dead and why she was alone. Lian Varden was sick of it. This time, she would be the one to leave. She lifted an old-fashioned straight razor out of a drawer. She had never used it: this would be the first and last time. Lian looked at it and sighed, too tired to even think of anything else. She looked at a picture on the wall. Bright and colorful. Lian smiled, a mockery of her former smile, itself a mockery of true happiness. If she had stayed, they would have left her anyway. She would have given up on people: she should have done that all along. I’m not sorry. she thought. She wasn’t sorry for Shade: arrogant bastard didn’t care at all. He was the one who had finally driven her to it. She was indifferent about Terrill: Terrill had always been indifferent about her, and would be, anyway. It was the same for Ki, who would never have even given the time of day to Lian, her creator. Lian was a little sorry about Ariel, a little sorry that she had seen something in her that wasn’t there. She was sorry for Harper, who had never gotten the chance to live: it hadn’t been his fault that she had had to exist in the first place, it wasn’t his fault that things had had to turn out like this. Harper…run. Disguise yourself. Get off planet, if you can… And she was sorry for Zid, whose heart would be broken. He had done nothing but reach out to her, with his ready smile and friendship. I’m sorry, Zid, but you would have left me anyway. They would have left her, anyway. So, with a flick of her wrist, and a smile on her face, Lian left them all instead. ~Owari~

Return The slender, dark-haired woman gathered her white cloak closer to herself, and peered through the darkness at the familiar shape of the castle, looming on the horizon. Finally sighing, the young-seeming Elf picked up her pack, and slinging it over her shoulders, walked quickly towards the entrance. The time she had spent in solitary silence, brief as it was, had done her worlds of good. Away from the magic-imbued atmosphere of the Pen-though, as a doubly enchanted creature, Elf and kitsune, she normally found the ambient magic soothing, it played merry hell with her shielding, especially after experiencing Aural’s torture through their link had ruined her wards-, she had been able to rebuild her shields. And after a while, the dark visions that had haunted her-both memories, hers and Aural’s, and strange visions of the future-had ended as well. For the first time in several months, the reborn kitsune was at peace with herself. And she hoped that her twin had managed to find some peace as well. She had initially left the Pen to seek out, once again, the man from her past who had tortured her brother, as revenge upon her. Other matters had taken her attention, and she hadn’t been able to finish what she had started: first, seeking the Morninglark harp, then briefly being drawn into Lady Salinye’s problems, before learning that her brother had been kidnapped, and going to track him down. Then she had gone after the harp, to finish that quest before more troubles started, and all sorts of problems had come crashing down, including her own near-death from grief at a seemingly unrequited love. Elwen had thought it prudent to /not/ return to the Pen until she had herself under control and her revenge complete. She had insisted, however, that Aural stay there, and her extremely shaken brother had complied for once-and Elwen had thought she would die of the shock. There were very few things that surprised her anymore, as she was a thousand years old, but Aural Moonflower actually listening to someone for a change was something she thought she’d never see. That important business complete, the reborn kitsune simply disappeared, leaving a note behind to explain her absence. ~I have things I need to take care of, and I need to get my heart and mind in order. I will return once that is complete. –Elwen~ Elwen paused, her hand on the door. Would she actually be welcome back? In her opinion, she hadn’t exactly endeared herself to anyone (besides Damon, but that was kind of obvious). Would anyone (besides Damon, but he was her fiancé, after all: if he hadn’t missed her, then something was really wrong.) have missed her? The once-cold kitsune didn’t admit it, but she-and Aural-both knew that she had enjoyed the company of those at the Pen, even if they disliked her. /Only one way to find out./ Elwen thought, and opened the door. The elven woman stepped through, her motion jostling a string on the enchanted harp she carried, and the sound echoed throughout the entrance hall of the Pen. Elwen sighed. What would the future bring? She was not a ForeSeer, not like Aural, she couldn’t ForeSee the future. She just had to face it, one day at a time. Live for the moment, for it all could end in a second’s time. Elwen was ancient, but even she knew the touch of death. /I must not waste any more time./ she thought, and walked down the halls, straight for the Conservatory. Her beloved might be there… ~Owari~ *** In case you couldn’t tell from this little story, I’m back now. I decided to actually tell my return IC, to get back into my IC persona after my hiatus. I’m OK now, if still a bit shaky, but time makes everything pass. Thanks for understanding, everyone. *smiles* I may disappear for a little while throughout the school year, as this is my senior year and I’m a full IB student, but I won’t take a months-long vacation. Just thought I’d let you go. Ja mata ne!

Control...you must get control... Elwen thought, shoving the anger away along with the form of her alter ego before resuming her Elven form. She was too tightly strung to care about Tamaranis's reaction to her sudden transformation, and quite simply, didn't care. All she wanted was the head of whoever had hurt her twin, and she wanted them to die quite painfully. "Excuse me." a soft, unfamiliar voice said. Elwen turned to find a slender Elven man, obviously a messenger of some sort. "Are you Lirya Moonflower?" "Yes." Elwen extended her hand and took the message he gave her. "I have been trying to track you down for some time. A harper is always difficult to find." the messenger said, with a nervous look at Tamaranis, before leaving. Elwen frowned tightly and opened it. What she didn't expect was the news it contained. 'Neesan*- I know you're going to wring my neck the next time you see me for being even more stupid than I usually am, but this is important and I don't care if you do. Something is very wrong-somebody is messing with people's dreams, and I don't know who. I'm going to go check it out, and stop them if I can. -Aural- Dreams...I wonder... Elwen thought. She extended the message to Tamaranis. "I believe this may help in some manner." (*'Neesan-Japanese for "older sister", the shortened form of "oneesan.")

The small Elf frowned at the piece of paper he held in his hands. /So...they need some help, do they?/ Dayel Shadowdreamer thought, quirking an elegant eyebrow. The slender sorcerer narrowed his eyes. /Dark rumors wander the countryside...of undead walking the sunlit lands./ He stuffed the piece of paper into his tunic pocket. /Sounds intriguing. I might as well check it out./

*eyes widen* Wow...this is a good poem. I wish I could write like this...*bows* good luck to you, in all that you do. And Lady bless you, my friend.

Thoughts Give me something to believe in In this world of lies and disbelief I guess I know who my friends are What was he to you? Just another person gone Just another dead fag to you Just another number down in black and white Just a name and “he died of AIDS” Just another faceless casualty In this endless war Just another dead fag to you No name, no face, just a cause of death Just another life ended Don’t you think of all the lives left behind? A mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a lover? Don’t you think of all that was and all that can never be? No tears, no grief, only a “there goes another one” What does it matter to you? You don’t think of who he left behind Only those four little words But you get on T.V. preaching condolences and hypocrisy Sorrow you don’t really feel, speaking words you don’t live And the whole world believes you- But you didn’t even know his name Just another dead fag to you No name, no face, just a cause of death Just another life ended Don’t you think of all the lives left behind? A mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a lover? Don’t you think of all that was and all that can never be? No tears, no grief, only a “there goes another one” Another light missing in the endless days Another star gone out in the sky above But you don’t care It’s all the same to you Just a shake of the head, an “oh, well” Then back to life as usual Just another dead fag to you No name, no face, just a cause of death Just another life ended Don’t you think of all the lives left behind? A mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a lover? Don’t you think of all that was and all that can never be? No tears, no grief, only a “there goes another one” Is that all he was to you?

*wipes a tear out of her eyes* Wow...this is beautiful, Pip. I think I have an understanding of the situation now...I hope everything works out. *thwacks Merry's parents*

Lenore considers. "Hmm...yes. But you'll have to wait." the little girl points at him. "All of you will pass that way on the way to Everien. It's going to take a little while, though..."

In the back of the room stands a quiet, black-haired woman softly playing a harp, oblivious to everything that is going on...except the fact her beloved got the promotion he deserved. :Congratulations, ashke...: she whispers in Damon's mind. "You're not getting away that easy!" Elwen is pounced on by a familiar figure. "What are you doing, Merry?" Elwen chokes out. "You aren't going to hide back here, /page/!" Merry drags her startled friend up to the stage." The elf/kitsune is too startled to think of any suitable threats... "I am going to get you!" Elwen finally chokes out. "Later." Merry says, shoving her into the crowd and smirking.

Aural had been searching for three days now, and even though his head ached with the effects of continual use of his psychic abilities and he was bone-tired, still he kept searching. :Damon!: he shouted, hoping that the half-demon would hear and respond. His telepathy had more range than even his voice, after all. "Aural?" mentally cursing, Aural spun around, to find said half-demon. He must be more tired than he thought, to not sense him there. "What are you doing here?" "Looking for you." Aural replied shortly. "Why?" Damon's eyes were puzzled. Aural decided to take the short way out. "Elwen is dying. Of grief. Not even I can reach her-" "You're her twin. What do you need me for?" Damon asked. Aural suppressed the urges to throw a few Elvish curses at him or (telekinetically) a giant rock, though it might-might-make him feel better. Goddess, that man was dense sometimes... "I don't know what you did to her, but it's got her pretty torn up inside. Both of her. Roselyn got her fixed up from her little adventure in Dariel's dungeons, but she can't do anything about what's hurting her now." Aural crossed his arms over his chest. Damon swallowed. He couldn't face her...he couldn't face her. The memory of her words echoed in his mind... Aishiteru, Damon Inferel. I love you, Damon Inferel... How could someone like her love /him?/ Aural's next words made up his mind for him, however. "She's going to die if you don't do something." the small blond reached out and shook him, firmly, though he had to stand on his toes in order to reach the much-taller man's shoulders. Damon remembered his dreams...of killing that mage construct, but in the end, having it turn into Elwen, beautiful Elwen who he had destroyed- He never wanted to cause Elwen pain- And she smiled as she died. There was no time left. He had choked on the words he had wanted to say, the very ones he wanted to say to her, and he hadn't been able to face her. Now he had to face her...or lose her forever. Damon swallowed. "Where is she?" Damon asked. Aural suppressed the urge to cheer-he could feel his twin's fading life-force-and sighed. "Roselyn's temple." "Let's go." Damon said firmly. Wait for me, love...

I would have taken the red pill as well. Being as curious as I am (the saying should be "curiosity killed the kitsune", not "curiosity killed the cat"), there would basically be no other way for me. I'd want to know what the Abyss was really going on! *smiles* And I didn't stick around. The only time I'd want to stick around after the credits is if there's a cool ending song (LOTR ring any bells?). Reloaded didn't have one, so my friend and I hightailed it out of there.