Aerce's Story


     I forget how long the magical poison coursed through my veins, a painful
but 'necessary' rite of passage dictated by my Master at the end of my formal
apprenticeship to him.  It was a test of my strength to resist and overcome the
distilled darkness, to learn how to master it before it killed me.  Which it
very nearly did as I lay gasping for life just inside the convent's armored
walls, heaving up the black ichor into a deep trench along with what little I
had been able to eat.
     I suppose a bard would find it a hell of a way to start a life's story.
But then again, I can't say I know of any bards who would bother to listen to
a story such as mine for very long without running screaming for sanctuary at
the first polite opportunity.
     I thought I heard soft footsteps on the cobblestones before I felt a hand
on my shoulder.  Even through my cloak I could feel the burning warmth of her
light touch, not exactly a good sign given my condition.  At least I couldn't
hear her heart pulsing in her chest.  Not yet, at any rate.
     "Aerce, what is it this time?" she asked, her gentle voice filled with
compassion and tenderness as she pronounced the syllables of my name with the
ease of someone who had known me for years.
     I spat into the trench and sagged against the wall, the burning spasms of
my insides abating for the moment.  Of course it had to be her.  Sixty-someodd
women in the convent, and it would be my luck that it would be her turn to find
out which pathetic wretch was puking in the trench this time.
     "What do you think?" I said quietly, coughing up another wad of ichor and
spitting it out as if to punctuate my words.
     She just sighed quietly and peered into the trench.  "Too dark to be dead
blood, so you're not bleeding internally."
     "What a relief," I said as sarcastically as I could manage, which wasn't
much under the circumstances, but she knew me well enough to get the point.
     "Let me see what he did to you this time," she said quietly as she tugged
my cowl back, exposing my skin to the pale rays of the sun for the first time
since I drank from that thrice-damned cup.
     I half-expected that the shadow poison would have made me vulnerable to
sunlight like a vampire and that I would be incinerated in an instant.  When I
only felt a somewhat unpleasant tingle on my skin, though, I wasn't sure if I
should have felt relieved or disappointed that I wasn't instantly crisped.  It
would have spared me from what was looking to be a very long and pain-filled
existence, if nothing else.
     She tilted my head up and our eyes met.  As always, my insides twinged
every time I looked upon her exquisite beauty.  Her pale hair seemed to cascade
around her face and shoulders, and her eyes were a tantalizing mixture of blue,
green, and storm gray blended together, a variable blend of color that changed
with her moods and could conceal or reveal her emotions as she desired.
     And as always, I had to fight an internal war with the sudden burning of
desire in my bloodstream, an almost overpowering urge to reach out to her as a
man does to a woman he wishes to possess.  I stayed my hand.... and other parts
of my anatomy as well.... but not because she was a cleric and a virgin.  I
have little respect for the teachings of the former and would have taken great
delight in curing her of the latter.
     No, I kept my desires to myself for the simple fact that this unearthly
beauty leaning over me was my younger sister.  Maybe my travels down the path
of darkness would eventually give me the courage to act on one of my darkest
desires, but for the present my conscience was still mired in a few morals.
Not to mention the distinct possibility that she might not appreciate it and
would resist me.  Sex is nice, but rape tends to take the fun out of it.
     I was drawn out of my momentary reverie by her sharp gasp, her storm-gray
eyes going wide.  "Oh, god...." she breathed as a single tear slid down her
fair-skinned cheek.
     Normally I would have taken the opportunity to remind her of my bitterness
towards the higher powers, including her precious healing deity, but I was a
bit surprised by her reaction.  I had noticed that the poison had turned my
skin pale and darkened the color of my blood vessels, but I was not aware of
any further changes to my body, a form once as graceful and attractive as hers
is.  The dark arts tended to corrupt, and I was no exception to their touch.
     "Your eyes...." she whispered.  She was obviously in a state of shock, but
she still remained at my side.  Most of the other clerics and healers began to
give me a wide berth after my apprenticeship started, but she and a select few
others continued to tend to me whenever I.... shall we say, experienced a major
lesson in my applied studies.  Odd how a learning curve could be so sharp, or
a devotion to someone so strong.
     "You're going to have to tell since the only way I can look at myself is
to pluck my eyeball out and twist it around.  And I don't think that would work
too well," I said to her, wincing as a minor flare of pain erupted in my guts.
     She reached into her soft white robes and pulled out a tiny mirror.  "I
think this is a better solution," she said as she held it up to my face.  Even
though her face was clouded with concern, I swore I saw the faintest gleam of
humor in her eyes as she turned the verbal barb against me.  I almost laughed
at her words, delighted to see that some of my acerbic wit had rubbed off on
her.
     My moment of humor was quickly turned around and sent screaming back into
the depths of the cauldron of my dark emotions as I looked into the mirror and
gazed upon my own visage.  I never thought of myself as being overly attractive
or handsome, but I did concede that there was something there that drew the
occasionally curious female eye.  My apprenticeship had added sharp lines and
a faint aura of coldness to my face over time, but nothing as truly obvious or
attention-grabbing as what I saw now.
     It was several moments before I could summon the willpower to speak to
her.  "You know.... I think I kind of like it," I said slowly as I studied my
changed eyes.  What had been white before was now as black as death, and what
had once been irises as variable-colored as my sister's were now a deep shade
of purple.  Not dark enough to blend into the rest of my eye, it was just the
right shade to be noticeable at a distance.
     "Hasn't your master done enough to you?" she said, spitting out the word
'master' with such bitterness that I could almost smell the acrid stench.
     The words fell from my lips as if by instinct.  "And as the sixth Angel
pulled back her bow, a voice from Heaven cried out, 'It.... is.... done.'"
     The quote from the her teachings was like a slap in the face to her, and
the dark part of me took a small measure of delight in seeing her jerk back
from me.  A second tear followed the first, slowly winding down her cheek and
leaving a glittering trail in its wake.
     I turned my head and spat into the trench, breathing a sigh of relief as
the worst of the firestorm burning inside me slowly abated.  "Surely you of all
people know of the saying 'that which doesn't kill me makes me stronger.'"
     "Why?" she implored me softly, hardly for the first time since I made my
decision to follow the path of darkness.  "Why do you make yourself suffer so
much?"
     "Does it matter, Omen?" said a quiet voice from behind her.
     The voice took us both by surprise and Omen nearly leapt out of her skin.
I didn't fare too well either, and if it wasn't for my sister kneeling directly
in front of me I would have drawn my dagger.  Although after recognizing our
soft-footed visitor, I don't think it would have been my blade that I would
have tried to plunge into her body.
     "Your brother has chosen to follow the path of darkness," she continued,
"Just as you have chosen to follow the Light.  I doubt anything can change that
now."
     I tilted my head back and smiled at her, despite the lingering agony I was
still in.  Aria Softheart was only a few years older than I but was the Master
Healer of the convent, although the title spoke more for her position than of
her healing skills.  I suppose when the oldest survivor of a death-strike on
the convent is a mere twenty years old at the time, one has to make do with
whatever skills one can find.
     My sister was an inch taller than I was, but Aria towered over the both of
us.  She possessed an aura of innocent sensuality around her that seemed to
blend quite well with her Amazon beauty.  I often thought she was oblivious to
just how beautiful, though, as she often spoke and acted as if she was either
unaware of just how appealing she was to men's fantasies or simply didn't care.
I suspect she understood more than she let on, though, for she always stayed
well out of arm's-reach of me and my less-than-honorable thoughts of her.
     "I've been telling her that for awhile now," I said as I casually eyed the
anchorite's somewhat gauzy robes, wondering if a gust of wind at just the right
angle would reveal anything worth observing.  "She doesn't seem to listen very
well, though."
     "Her love for you blinds her," Aria replied, "As you are blinded by the
darkness within you.  Have you finished ejecting the poison?"
     "I hope so," I said in a moment of frank honesty.
     "Then as you would have died by now if you were to be killed at all, I
suspect you will make an eventual recovery.  Congratulations on the completion
of your apprenticeship," she said with no audible trace of scorn or mockery in
her soft voice.
     "Thank you.... I think," I replied with a slight hesitation.  I'd never
admit this to anyone, but I sometimes admire Aria's ability to hold a polite,
civil, and probably even a somewhat sincere conversation with someone whose
morals and ethics pretty much run in opposite directions from her own.  Perhaps
there is something to be said for divine wisdom after all.
     "Dare I ask which robes you have chosen to don?" Aria asked as I made a
rather serious attempt at standing up.  It seemed my leg muscles were still
faintly saturated with that poison, for despite my sister's assistance I found
myself on my ass in very short order.
     "Just the simple robes of a mage," I replied through gritted teeth.  "To
be honest, I found it unacceptable to deny myself to a number of potent schools
of magic just to increase my power and understanding in the others.  I think
that in the end it will be seen to have been a good choice."
     "How interesting," the anchorite commented as she watched me make a second
attempt at standing up.  "It appears I was wrong about you after all."
     I think she said that just to watch me twitch in shock and promptly fall
back down on my backside again.  The only thing that restrained my tongue from
unleashing a blasphemous remark about religion in general was the gentle but
firm grip Omen had on my arm, reminding me of her presence.  I cared little for
her righteous views of this accursed life, but I saw no gain to be made from
deliberately inflicting pain on her.
     "Oh, really?  Please, my lady Softheart, share your thoughts with me," I
said, adding just the right touch of sarcasm to my voice.  I decided to wait
for her reply before making a third attempt at standing up, just in case she
was able to further catch me off-guard.
     Aria merely smiled at me, a gesture which I frankly found to be more than
slightly disturbing.  "I was almost certain you would have chosen to become a
Necromancer.  They are, after all, purported to be the most powerful masters of
the Dark Arts."
     I couldn't help but chuckle at her naiveness.  "My dear, sweet Aria, you
wrong me with your misconceptions," I said, speaking slowly and choosing my
words with great care.  "While I make no secret of my desire for magic and the
power that it brings, I would find very little comfort in a domain composed of
the dead.  The silence alone would get dreadfully boring after a few years, and
I would much rather be kept company by thinking, feeling people such as you."
     The pleasure alone of watching that maddeningly soft smile slide off her
face at my words made the effort worthwhile, but so too did I relish the look
in her eyes as she silently tried to untwist my words and analyze the meaning
behind them.  She knew the game almost as well as I did, and her reluctance to
be drawn into it, even for a short exchange of words, made each verbal match I
had with her all the more enjoyable.
     I could feel my sister's eyes boring into me as the silence dragged on for
another few beats of a human heart.  I knew she disliked it when I turned my
tongue loose to ensnare one of her friends, but she remained silent for her own
reasons.  I often like to think she feared drawing my focus to her, but in all
the time we were together growing up I honestly can't say I ever turned my wits
upon her in an assault.  Tempted to, oh yes, I was tempted to.... but for some
inexplicable reason, I never did.  How strange....
     "Is there any aid you require?" Aria finally said, disappointing me in her
refusal to take the verbal bait.
     It was my understanding that most of those who walk the dark paths would
scorn such an offer from a follower of the Light.  I too would have sought to
do such a thing had my Master not made a point of explaining to me that aid
such as this is best not brushed off.  He claimed his life had been saved on
more than one occasion by visiting healers he had taken pains not to alienate
in his search for power.  My own studies under his hand have necessitated a few
visits to this convent of my sister's, making his point all the clearer.
     I thought carefully for a moment about what I would need.  "Your offer is
greatly appreciated, Master Healer.  With your permission, I should like a
small room to rest in until sundown, preferably one protected from the sun, and
a poultice to calm the stomach."
     "And something for your breath," Omen added with a touch of humor as she
gently squeezed my arm.
     I belched lightly in response to her words.  I paid for it a moment later
as my eyes started to water from the fumes, and Omen was forced to turn her
head away with a grimace.  "I see your point," I gasped as I tried to clear the
air of the foul stench.  Had anyone bothered to ask, I would have truthfully
sworn that the shadow poison didn't taste like that when I first quaffed it.
     Aria said nothing as she turned away with a half-smile.  She didn't need
to say anything, either, as the bemused look on her face spoke volumes.  I was
reasonably sure she hid no psionic skills beneath her golden hair, but I could
have sworn I felt her thoughts brush mine for a moment and heard her laughing
voice whispering 'poetic justice' to my mind.
     "Can you stand now?" Omen said to me once she could draw a relatively
stench-free breath of air.
     I sighed quietly and returned my mind to the task of getting myself off my
ass and back onto my feet.  I almost didn't make it this time as well, but with
my sister's surprisingly strong grip on my arm I was able to retain my balance
long enough for my body to remember how to manage on its own.  "Have you been
working out, Omen?" I asked her.
     She blinked as the question took her by surprise.  "A series of simple
exercises in the morning for flexibility," she replied.  "Why do you ask?"
     "Because, dear sister, either I've gotten incredibly weak as of late or
your grip has gotten stronger," I replied as I leaned against the wall and very
gently tugged my arm free from her.  "I appreciate your help, as always, but
that was starting to hurt."
     She frowned and yanked back on my sleeve, the expression on her face
hardening as she saw the tiny bruise marks on my skin caused by her strength.
"He's destroying your health," she grumbled softly.
     "I've always bruised easily, you know that," I said as I tugged my sleeve
back down to cover the marks.  "And as I said, you seem have added a bit of
extra muscle to your frame when I wasn't looking."
     She turned to me and took my hand in hers, her emotions reflecting quite
clearly in her stormy eyes.  "Aerce, I'm worried about you," she said softly.
     I lightly squeezed her hand, marveling for a moment how soft her hand felt
in mine.  Drawn by the moment, I leaned forward and gave her a soft and gentle
kiss on her lips.  "You worry too much," I replied equally as softly.
     She closed her eyes and leaned on my shoulder for a few moments before she
let go of my hand.  "I just don't want to lose you."
     I chuckled softly with amusement.  "You forget how stubborn I am.  It will
take more than mere poison to rid me from this land," I said with a soft smile.
I knew she indeed worried about me often and decided that telling her just how
close to death the poison had taken me would not ease her mind.
     Omen shot me a partially amused look.  "How could anyone forget just how
stubborn you are?" she teased me gently with a faint smile on her lips.
     "You'd be surprised," I admonished her.
     "Perhaps," she admitted as she gently took my arm again.  "Now unless you
feel like you are going to be ill in the trench again, I suggest you let me
take you inside to your room."
     "As you wish, my lady," I murmured softly to her, drawing an odd look in
response.  I followed her across the convent's courtyard and was halfway to the
door when it opened and what had to be an avenging angel walked out.
     I stopped dead in my tracks as I gazed upon the armored beauty.  She had
platinum-blonde hair that came down to her shoulder-blades and even from afar
I was taken aback by the sharpness of her ice-blue eyes.  The chain mail she
wore seemed to adhere to her every contour, accenting her feminine beauty in a
noble and graceful way.
     She glanced up and our eyes met for an instant.  I was never one for what
the fools call 'love at first sight,' but I couldn't deny that a tingle seemed
to course through me like a lightning bolt.  The tingle evaporated very quickly
as her eyes went wide with shock before narrowing to slits as she drew her
sword from the scabbard on her back.  "So the Dark Ones now dare invade the
sanctity of this convent?" she challenged, her expression turned to one of
hatred and fury.  "Feel the wrath of the Sunstorm!" was her battle cry as she
charged forward, sword at the ready.
     Who would have thought a Sunstorm Paladin would have made her way here,
through the Dark Forest that comprised this domain?  I knew immediately that I
should warn both Lord Skyblade and my Master of this latest development, for
while this small and isolated patch of sanctified ground was tolerated in the
Realm of Shadows, the presence of this holy knight was a harbinger of more
trouble than could be imagined.  Assuming, of course, I survived this encounter
to make my report.
     There is no fury as that of the righteous.
     As always when faced with mortal danger, time seems to slow down for me.
The paladin had covered half of the distance between us when my sister tried
to interpose herself between me and impending doom.  Touched as I was by the
gesture, I saw little to be gained by my sister's sacrifice and so I shoved her
out of the way.
     I had no illusions as to how long I would be able to fend off this angel
of righteous fury.  Most of my studies had been devoted to learning the basics
of magic, although my Master insisted that I be trained in a few techniques of
combat to enhance my odds of survival.  He admitted that if I found myself in
a toe-to-toe fight with an armed warrior my chances would be dismal at best,
but he also pointed out that every second I managed to remain alive was another
second my allies had to intervene.
     A pity the only 'ally' I could count on at the moment to at least have the
decency to give me a proper burial was my sister.  I suppose Aria Softheart
would have presided over the ceremony, but I suspect that she would have had a
soft smile in her heart when she did so.  Poetic justice indeed.
     I considered it a tribute to my fairly rapid reflexes that I was able to
draw the silver dagger out of my belt before I was forced to dodge to the side
to escape mortal injury.  Even so, it appeared her reflexes were every bit as
swift and sharp as her blade.  Before I had a chance to fully recover, she
checked and reversed her swing in mid-arc, a maneuver that required a great
amount of strength to be able to successfully perform.
     A burning line of fire was etched across my chest as the very tip of her
sword grazed me.  I had been on the receiving end of more slices than I care
to recall and knew right away that the cut was a relatively shallow one.  I was
willing to bet it would cost me a great deal of blood, however, and would most
likely leave a curious scar if I lived long enough for it to heal.  That was a
secondary concern, however, for she quickly advanced on me and prepared to
strike again.  I was unarmored, and at this close a distance there would be
very little I could do to fend off a mortal blow.
     Perhaps Fate was in a good mood today, for as the paladin swung her sword
back to decapitate me something slammed into the side of her unarmored wrist,
almost exactly where the joint was.  The blow was powerful enough to force her
to drop the blade into the dirt accompanied by a fierce yelp of pain.  The dust
had scarcely stirred at her feet before my sister charged her, bent almost
double and ramming her shoulder into the other woman's midsection.
     There was a soft crunching noise as the holy knight was lifted clear off
her feet and thrown back to land hard against the ground.  I winced out of pure
reflex as I imagined what the armor did not only to Omen's shoulder but to the
paladin's body as she landed.  Hard metal tends to be very unforgiving to soft
feminine flesh.  I had my own problems at the moment, such as the stain of dark
blood spreading across my tunic, and so I was not of a mood to care about any
sort of injuries the beautiful warrior received.
     Having the relative upper hand for the moment, despite the searing pain
making itself known in my chest, I tried to decide whether or not I should make
prompt use of the fact that I was standing and she was not.  After all, she
did attack me without just cause and at least my Master, if no one else, would
agree that her life could be forfeit for just such a deed.
     My hand had barely tightened on my dagger when my sister cast her sling
aside and withdrew an object from beneath her robes.  I swore I felt the hair
on the back of my neck stand up as I heard a familiar snap of energy, followed
by the baleful hum of a psi-blade being ignited.  I just stood there in open
shock as the golden beam of energy emerged from the pommel in Omen's hand,
extending out the length of a sword blade and humming with lethal energy.
     If time seemed to crawl before, it came to a complete halt now as my poor
brain registered the tableau before me, my eyes frozen on the glowing sabre.
The mere sight of it filled me with dread, not because I knew of its power, but
because it served as a distinctly painful reminder of our parents.
     Both of them were accomplished psionicists, my father's skill concentrated
in Psychokinesis and my mother in the daunting field of Metapsionics.  Married
in not just spirit but in mind as well, they made a very formidable team.  They
were one of the few people who understood psi-blades well enough to manufacture
them, and so made themselves comfortably wealthy by selling a few blades they
made for small fortunes.  Omen and I each received a psi-blade as a gift for
our thirteenth birthdays, although much to our parents' dismay neither one of
us ever exhibited psionic potential.
     After our parents fell prey to a horde of psionic creatures that destroyed
the town and left everyone but a handful of us children dead, I couldn't bring
myself to use the accursed weapon again.  I flung my sabre into a deep crevice
and vowed never to rely on the power of the mind in such a fashion, preferring
to begin my study of the more traditional magical arts.  I knew enough to take
care of myself long enough to apprentice myself to a master, but I knew that I
couldn't protect Omen as well.  I came to Aria's convent just days after a
powerful being had inflicted a death-strike against the ancient Master Healer
for some past misdeed, and after leaving my sister in their care I set off on
the road that I now presently follow.
     My mind snapped back to reality as my sabre-wielding sister spoke in a
tone I rarely heard from her.  "Leave him alone," she hissed softly as she
swung the psi-blade in an arc before her, resulting in a warning hum of power
as the sabre cut through the air.  The energy of the blade was strong enough to
slowly rip matter apart at the molecular level if held in contact to an object
long enough, and the unique hum of activated psi-blades was produced by air
molecules being shredded like a strip of meat tossed to a pack of dogs.
     "ENOUGH!!" boomed a voice from the convent doorway.  By reflex, all eyes
were drawn to the source of the forceful word.  "What is the meaning of this?"
Aria demanded as she advanced at a furious pace towards us.
     My initial response was to offer a flip remark, but an abrupt floating
feeling inside my head forced me to hold my tongue.  I thought it wise to sit
down before I fell down, and so I dropped to one knee and tried not to make a
sound as my chest seemed to erupt in fire.  This was not turning out to be the
most ideal of days.
     "Do your clerics defend the Dark Ones now?" the Sunstorm Paladin replied
harshly from her prone position on the ground.  Her fierce blue eyes were fixed
on the glowing psi-blade with such intensity that I thought she was going to
burn a hole though the golden radiance.
     "You dare wage battle on holy ground?" Aria growled with enough vehemence
to startle everyone.  "Omen, put that thing away this instant!"
     My sister shrank under the anchorite's withering gaze and quickly closed
down the sabre with an electric snap of energy.  She returned the pommel to the
depths of her robes and quickly rushed over to my side, her storm gray eyes
going wide at the sight of my blood-stained tunic.
     "A large but shallow scratch," I murmured softly to her, wincing as she
grabbed a handful of my tunic and tore it away.  She shot me a fierce look as
I spoke but said nothing as she used the scraps of torn fabric to wipe away
some of the blood.
     "By what right do you interfere, Softheart?" the paladin demanded as she
slowly rose to her feet, fixing me with a piercing look.  "Look at his eyes!
Tell me that's not the mark of one of the Dark Ones."
     Aria's response was pure steel.  "I have known Master Aerce for a number
of years now, Chrystalis, and this is the first time I've seen him with eyes
like that.  He came here seeking aid after he was poisoned, and I suspect that
the poison is responsible for his condition.  Yet you dare attack him merely
because of the color of his eyes, and without even asking why?"
     Both Omen and I blinked hard and looked at each other at the edged words
from the usually soft-spoken Master Healer.  She spoke the truth, as we had
known each other for years, but there was something to her demeanor that made
me wary of further words.
     "He is a student of the Shadow Mage, is he not?" Chrystalis said in a
deceptively soft voice.  "Tell me how he can be apprenticed to one of the Dark
Ones and not be corrupted by them."  She reached down and picked up her sword,
giving me another glacial look before sheathing it in her scabbard.  Perhaps it
was just my weakened condition, but I could have sworn I saw a gleam of smug
satisfaction in her ice-blue eyes as her blade settled into place.
     Aria's reply almost gave me a heart-attack, and given my current condition
it would not have been pretty.  "He decided he was finished studying with his
master, and for that he was poisoned," she said evenly.
     The paladin frowned and Omen almost fell into my lap with shock.  Omen
quickly recovered and finished wiping the majority of the blood away from the
gash on my chest.  She sighed with dismay at the severity of the cut and gave
me a reproving look.  As if I could have avoided the injury, I thought darkly
to myself.  I consider myself fortunate not to have been eviscerated outright.
     She placed her fingertips on my bare chest and began muttering a prayer
to her healing deity.  As she whispered the divine words, her fingernails began
to glow with a soft white radiance.  After a moment, the healing light started
flowing from her fingertips and slowly encompassed the wound, producing a
decidedly odd tingle as it went.  I had been touched by her clerical magic many
times before, but this time it seemed to be different for some reason.
     Omen looked at the wound and frowned as it failed to close after a few
seconds.  She murmured another prayer-spell softly and the glow surrounding her
hands intensified, forcing me to look away from the glaring holy light.  The
tingling sensation grew stronger as well but did absolutely nothing to ease the
burning pain in my chest.
     "Master Healer...." Omen said in a warning tone as my injury continued to
defy her healing touch.
     Aria glanced once at me before shooting a cold look at Chrystalis.  "What
manner of blade is that which you carry?" she said in a low growl.
     "A gift from my order," the paladin replied with smug pride.  "It's been
enchanted so that the flesh it cleaves cannot be mended by magical aid, thus
denying the Dark Ones a chance to heal themselves before we can finish ridding
this land of their foul presence."
     I'm not sure what caused the ice to form in my veins, the realization of
being injured with a Sword of Wounding or the look of horror in my sister's
stormy eyes.  While I was beyond her meager healing magic and probably that of
Aria's as well, I doubted I would be permitted to bleed to death.  The downside
to that was the distinct possibility that I would be subjected to having the
wound closed in a more conventional way, and adorable as she was, my sister's
skill at sewing leaved a lot to be desired.
     "Omen, go inside and have a stretcher brought out," Aria commanded as she
turned her back on the Sunstorm Paladin and knelt down at my side.  "I'll need
some boiling water and a healthy donor of compatible blood as well as a satchel
of surgical tools."
     "I'll donate," Omen said instantly as she stood up.  She was about to dash
inside the convent for assistance when Aria grabbed her wrist.
     "I said a compatible donor, Omen," the Master Healer replied softly.  "I
have treated you both enough times to know your blood differs too much despite
having the same origin.  See if there's anyone with either type three or type
five willing to volunteer."  My sister nodded and shot me a look of concern
that almost shattered my heart before she ran off.
     "Surgical tools?" I muttered as everything started to take on a grayish
aspect.  That was not a good sign, as the gradual loss of my color vision was
a definite sign of severe blood loss.  "Can't I just lie here and die quietly
instead?"
     "Don't tempt me," the anchorite whispered in reply.  "Chrystalis, have you
ever had your blood classified before?" she said, raising her voice so that the
paladin could hear her while she resumed wiping up the blood that continued to
seep from my chest.  She received silence in reply and turned to scowl at the
holy knight.  I must confess that, even through my pain and with Aria's face
contorted in an expression rarely seen from her, I still found the anchorite to
be incredibly desirable.
     "I asked you a question, Paladin," Aria prompted in a dangerous tone.
     Chrystalis' eyes narrowed at the Master Healer.  "Yes, and I was told by
the Master Healer of my order that I'm type five," she replied with a voice
every bit as steely as her form-fitting chain mail.
     "Then you will assist me," Aria replied as she threw a blood-soaked shred
of my tunic into the refuse trench.
     The paladin's armor rattled as she suddenly stood ramrod straight.  "He
serves the Dark Ones, and I'll be damned if I'll help him live!" she spat with
the righteous fury typical to her kind.  Perhaps when I make my incident report
to Lord Skyblade and my Master, I can convince his Lordship to unleash his
vampire companion and her minions on the Order of the Sunstorm, as they seem
to be getting a touch uppity as of late.
     Then again, I thought as things turned a darker shade of gray and I began
to hear a hollow roaring in my ears, perhaps my Master would soon be listening
to me making my request from beyond the grave unless Aria did something.
     "Precisely my point," Aria replied in glacial tones.  "If he dies, his
blood will be solely upon your hands, and to protect this convent from his
master's vengeance I would cast you out in a moment for your sin."
     I could hear the sharp intake of breath from the surprised and shocked
holy knight, and I myself hadn't been prepared to hear those words uttered by
the Master Healer.  A choice between forced cooperation or exile to a probable
fate worse than death sounded an awful lot like blackmail to me.  The choice
would be doubly hard because of the righteous pride of the Sunstorm Paladin.
     The dark part of me couldn't help but smile.  Poetic justice indeed.
     "If my aid will atone for my.... sin," Chrystalis said softly with open
bitterness at the last word, "Then I will do it."
     I sighed inwardly as everything faded to black and the sound in my ears
turned everything to static.  First poisoned, then dumped on Death's doorstep
by a holy knight, and now soon to be dragged back into the realm of the living
by having my chest sewn shut by a frequent guest of my dark fantasies and my
veins filled with life from the one who almost killed me and would just as soon
finish the job next chance she gets.
     I was just glad I lost consciousness before I could imagine word of this
reaching my Master and picturing him rolling on the floor with laughter.

                *               *               *               *

     Lord Silver Skyblade stared in open-mouthed surprise as his mentor fell
out of his seat with a heavy thump, his arms wrapped tightly around himself and
his entire body shaking with barely-contained laughter.  His master was known
for many things across the realm, but a sense of humor wasn't one of them.
     "My lord...?" he asked cautiously.
     It was several seconds before the dark figure was able to quit laughing
and climb back into his chair.  "My young pupil is having a bad day," he said
in a whispery voice, his body still wracked with amusement.
     Lord Skyblade said nothing as he waited for his master to continue.  He
knew the Dark One's name, having fallen prey to his minion's seductive trap and
had his soul taken in exchange for his powers, but dared not speak it and even
rarely thought it.  It was said that the Shadow Mage knew when his name was
spoken, and so it became a word forbidden to utter lest it draw his unholy
attention.
     "I must admit that this experiment is far more rewarding than even I had
anticipated," the Shadow Mage said when the bulk of his mirth had subsided.
"Already I learn things of vital importance to us.  For instance, are you aware
that there is a Sunstorm Paladin in your domain?" he asked casually.
     Skyblade blinked hard.  Even though he was under the control of the Shadow
Mage's power, he was the domain lord of the Realm of Shadows.  As such he was
usually aware of anyone of significance trying to enter or leave his realm, but
this news came as a complete surprise.  "Is there, now?" he asked warily.  "I
felt no such presence before."
     "She is residing at Erza's convent," the Shadow Mage replied, his unholy
visage twisting into a faint smile.  "The aura might have masked her own."
     Skyblade gritted his teeth silently.  "I do wish you would let me level
that place," he growled.  "Its presence is a constant irritation and a minor
disaster waiting to happen."
     "Only a minor one?" the Dark One mocked.  "You underestimate them, then.
The strength of the Light is very deceptive, Lord Skyblade, and you would do
well to remember that.  As for why I let it stand.... let's just say that the
convent's Master Healer and I have an understanding."
     The archmage bowed his head briefly and tried to clear his mind.  While he
was reasonably sure his master couldn't read his thoughts, he still thought it
wise not to let too many disloyal criticisms bubble up from the depths of his
brain.  "Be that as it may, my lord, what do you suggest we do with her?"
     "Dispose of her, of course," the Shadow Mage replied.  "However, let's not
be too hasty with this.  Dangerous as they can be, holy knights are a very
fascinating breed.  How long did it take to kill the last one, seven days?"
     "Six, my lord, but it took a seventh day to breech the layer of holy wards
he placed around his person," Skyblade replied.  "He was a strong and resourceful
individual."
     "Indeed...." the Dark One mused to himself.  "I want her left alone for
now, merely observed from a distance.  The sword she carries is magical in
nature and I would prefer not to move against it unless I know more about its
origins and purpose.  Send one of your minions to the convent to speak with
Aerce and assess both his condition and the strength of the paladin."
     "Any message I should pass along?" Skyblade inquired.
     The Shadow Mage stood up and held out his hand.  "Only to return here as
soon as his health permits," he replied as a flame as dark as night burst into
existence in his palm.  "Emphasize to him that I would rather see him alive in
a week than to see his corpse in your foyer tomorrow evening.  This experiment
is going quite well, and I'd like to see it continue."  He then made a fist,
disappearing as the flame was crushed out of existence.
     Lord Skyblade sighed softly to himself as he felt the aura of the room
become slightly lighter.  "Elaine," he quietly called out into the shadows
surrounding his chambers.
     "My lord," replied a soft feminine voice from behind him.
     "See to it that the message is delivered," he instructed her.
     "With pleasure, my lord," she replied with an obvious smile in her voice.
     "Such enthusiasm," Skyblade observed as he walked over to a bookcase and
selected a heavy tome.  "Dare I ask why you seem eager to visit holy ground?"
     "I wish to talk to a few people, my lord, that's all," Elaine replied
quietly, still hidden within the shadows.  "I assure you I would otherwise have
little desire to expose myself to holy ground."
     Lord Skyblade laughed very softly to himself.  "Indeed.  Be careful."
     "My lord," she replied before she vanished and left Lord Skyblade alone
with his book and his own darkened thoughts.

                *               *               *               *

     Pain has always been a mixed blessing to me.  The fact that I feel it is
an indicator that I am alive, but sometimes the intensity of it makes me wish
otherwise.  Awakening to a searing pain across my chest is hardly the ideal
sensation to experience, but I suppose it does beat the alternative.  At least
for the moment.
     It seemed an eternity passed before my senses caught up with my mind and
started to focus on the world around me.  I was lying down on a soft pallet of
sorts, not too comfortable but not hard enough to add to my problems.  The pain
in my chest seemed to recede slightly and become discreet points of white-hot
agony, seeming to confirm my suspicion that I had been sewn back together.  I
counted the points and calculated the likely number of stitches as an exercise
to prod my mind into further coherence.
     "Thirty-four," I murmured to myself, my voice sounding to my ears like a
gravel quarry.
     "So you're awake," said a voice as cold as the northern seas.
     "So it would seem," I replied as I tried to open my eyes.  It felt like
they too had been stitched shut, but after a few moments I was able to force my
eyelids apart and gaze around the room with blurred vision.
     "I wouldn't move if I were you," the icy voice continued as if I had not
spoken.
     I noticed that it was a vaguely familiar voice, although I couldn't place
it right away.  The tone, however, was the kind that typically accompanied
someone standing over you with a blade pressed to your throat.  From what I
remember before passing out I doubted this was the case, but nevertheless I
couldn't brush off the sense of impending danger it implied.
     "And why is that?" I asked slowly as I tried to focus on what I thought
was the ceiling.  So hard to tell which wall is which when your eyes feel like
they've been polished with an unwashed fur pelt.
     "If you move, you'll probably dislodge the bandages and cause what little
blood you have to spill back out," she replied evenly.  "And as much as I would
like to watch that, I have no desire to be blamed your death."
     The voice clicked in my mind and I couldn't help but smile.  "Not unless
you could claim credit for it I think, Lady Chrystalis," I said as dryly as I
could manage under the circumstances.  I suspected that after wiping my eyes
bone-dry with the animal hide, they stuffed it down my throat to clean that out
as well.  At the moment, I would have given an awful lot for a cup of water.
     Eventually the room came into sufficient focus to allow me to attempt to
determine where I was.  The room was very small, consisting of little more than
two beds separated by a narrow walkway.  A quick glance above my head told me
there was a window behind me, which meant I was in one of two places.  The dark
orange highlights, however, gave me the impression that it was either close to
sundown or just past sunrise.
     "Do you know time is it?" I asked as I tried to determine if I had the
strength required to sit up.  Such an action could hardly be thought of as
wise, having just had my chest stitched shut and my veins missing a great deal
of blood, but I was far more interested in my immediate situation than my
fragile state of health.  I figured the worst that could happen to me is that
I would wind up dying and moving on to a different existence, which at this
point didn't seem all that bad of an alternative.
     "No," she replied with such succinctness that I had to laugh softly.
     "Then can you tell me if that is sunrise or sunset?" I asked with a faint
chuckle as I made up my mind and gave an experimental heave.  I did little more
than lift my neck a few inches off the pillow before flopping back down, but
that was sufficient exertion to tell me that I was in no danger of tearing any
of the stitches if I sat up.
     "Sunset," she replied flatly.  "Move like that again and it will dislodge
the needle.  I take no responsibility for what happens then."
     I closed my eyes and briefly focused my mind on the sound of her voice.
Her tone reminded me of the biting winter gales that besiege the northern seas
at times, sharp as a knife and seeming to cut just as deeply.  There was no
warmth or comfort to be found in her words, and yet I found myself being put
ever so slightly at ease by hearing them.  Perhaps I was simply glad to be
alive, but the faintest shadow of a doubt still tickled the back of my mind.
     "What needle?" I inquired with mild curiosity as I opened my eyes again.
The focus was no more clearer than before, but at least my vision was still
functional for the most part.  Tilting my head slightly, I was able to see the
small strip of gauze wrapped around my forearm, securing a slender metallic
contraption in place.
     I had often wondered how exactly the Healers transfused blood between two
individuals with such odd devices, but both Omen and Aria had declined to speak
of the matter with slightly discomforted expressions.  Having learned the hard
way that there were things in this world that were better off not being clearly
understood or explained, I had never pursued the matter with any vehemence.
     Turning my head even farther, I was able to make out the outline of my
momentary companion in the other bed.  Her armor was apparently elsewhere, as
I noticed a great deal more pale flesh than when I last looked upon her.  Her
arm was also bound with gauze to secure the transfusion machinery, slowly and
quietly siphoning the life out of her only to let it seep into my own body.
     She turned to glare at me, her ice-blue gaze seeming to impale me like a
hunter lining up his sights on a particular woodland creature.  "What?" she
demanded, leaving little doubt that she took grave offense in merely having to
breathe the same air as one such as I.
     Perhaps it was a case of still not enough blood reaching my brain, but I
surprised the both of us when I went to frame my reply.  "You're beautiful," I
said without realizing it, then wondered where my sanity had run off to.  I had
intended to say something completely different, but the fragmented thoughts
kept coming and going like cold fog beneath a particularly fierce sun.
     It was not hard to see there was significant truth to my words, however
unintended they might have been.  Her pale skin glowed faintly with the light
of the setting sun, the orange hue seeming to set her platinum-blonde hair
alight with a crimson highlight.  Her virtues, rather loosely encased in a
cream-colored camisole, were sufficient enough to make me wonder how exactly
they fit into her body armor without undue chafing, for surely such soft flesh
was never meant to be entombed in cold metal.
     Were it not for the look in her eyes and her previous attempt on my life,
I might have been inclined to expend a rather considerable amount of time and
effort in getting to know her intimately.  Which, I feel compelled to point
out, has already been done with the odd denizen of the convent.  I felt little
guilt or remorse in being the proverbial fox in the hen-house by occasionally
courting the convent's all-female population.  After all, everyone has needs,
and I did my best to ensure that those whom I successfully seduced did not come
away unsatisified, or at least in a physical sense.  I knew that I had to be
very careful with such a thing, however, as it is unwise to upset someone who
might be in a position to save your life at some point.... or otherwise be in
a position to extinguish it.
     "Spare me your compliments," she said, her voice rudely snapping me out of
an idle musing and anchoring me in the present.  "I have no desire to hear the
ramblings of one who keeps company with the Dark Ones."
     I leaned back with a faint smile on my lips.  Her words had given me the
perfect opportunity, and after being wounded by her blade I thought it quite
fair to return the gesture with a sharp tongue.  "Really now," I said in a dry
tone, more from literal dryness than a sarcastic mood.  "Does that mean you
don't wish to hear Omen or Aria speak to you again?  You will find that both
have had extensive dealings with your vaunted Dark Ones, both in the past and
the present."
     I could hear her eyes narrowing in her voice.  "What do you mean?" she
demanded, falling for the verbal bait like a novice.  Hook, line, and sinker.
     "Lady Softheart has an understanding with my Master," I explained slowly,
pausing as I heard her sharp intake of breath at the mention of him, even so
indirectly as a title.  "Or have you not paused to wonder why such sanctified
ground has been permitted to continue existing in this realm?  It's simple, my
dear.... Aria provides aid and comfort to any who knocks on the convent gates,
which includes people like me, and in turn my Master prevents Lord Skyblade
from rearranging the terrain.  I think the previous Master Healer had a falling
out of sorts with his Lordship, and I believe you already know the result...."
     "Enough of your foul words!" she snapped, her gaze growing even more
glacial than I had previously thought possible.
     "Foul words?" I said lightly, a smile toying with my lips.  "Has your
Order fallen that far from grace that anything said that you do not wish to
hear is foul, even when it is the truth?  Ask her for yourself," I added, then
stilled my tongue to observe her reaction.
     Her silence was quite expected, no doubt a result of an internal struggle.
The righteous would rather not listen to the words of the wicked, but they are
sworn to seek out Truth where it happens to be, and more than one follower of
the Light has been driven mad or worse by a kernel of divine Truth nestled amid
the carefully crafted words of the Dark.
     "Tell me, wielder of the Sunstorm, what do I have to gain by lying?" I
said in as silken a tone as I could muster.  A year ago I could have made it
seem that my voice was coated with the essence of honey, the better to woo and
charm women to my will, but the toll of my apprenticeship has left my voice in
the same condition as the rest of my body.  A rather lamentable, if necessary,
sacrifice along the path I have chosen.
     I was spared the questionable entertainment of her reply when the door
creaked open and a young woman slipped into the room, dressed in the simple
white cowl and robes of a neophyte student.  She went first to Chrystalis to
check her arm, making sure that the blood transfuser was still securely in
place and not drawing off too much blood too quickly.  Apparently satisfied,
she turned to me with obvious hesitation, presumably leery of dealing with
someone like me.  Not that I blamed her in the slightest, as anyone with a
modicum of sense treads carefully when encountering a so-called Dark One.
     She paused for a moment before reaching up to push her cowl back, the
white cloth falling away to reveal the pointed ears and delicate cheekbones
that denoted Elven ancestry.  Her amethyst eyes were slightly almond-shaped,
not quite the cat-like slits of pure Elves, but not quite the round orbs of a
fully Human woman either.  And last I checked, this convent had but one such
student of mixed blood.
     "I see you're still here, Noelle," I mused quietly as she stared at my
purple-on-black eyes and pale countenance.  She seemed to be at a loss for
words as she glanced away briefly before examining the needle piercing my vein.
I wasn't sure if her silence was out of shock or something else.  Suffice it to
say I got to know her quite well one evening during a stroll through the local
forest, and to this day I am unsure of how she felt about the experience.
     "Or do you have no words for an old friend?" I prodded gently, trying to
elicit some sort of verbal reaction.
     "Leave her alone and let her do her work," Chrystalis snapped from her
side of the room.  "I'm sure she has better things to do that treat you."
     Noelle didn't make eye contact as she tugged open the front of the gray
robe that I had only just now realized I was wearing.  Such minor details as
what is currently preserving your modesty and keeping you warm tends to be
overlooked when you're none too sure about your immediate chances for keeping
your soul tethered to its fleshy moorings.
     Her touch was feather-light as it brushed across my chest, gently probing
the bandages that kept the stitches secured and protected from exposure.  The
sensation was enough to send my senses reeling for a brief instant, not from
shock or pain, but from sheer delight and bliss.  Perhaps it was merely an
unintended reaction from my changing skin, but I would have sworn her touch had
never felt this good before.  Then again, a nail through the wrist would be a
welcome sensation to the dying, as it means they're not quite dead yet.
     I reached up and placed my hand over hers, a surprisingly difficult task
given my weakened condition and one that briefly left my breath tangled in the
depths of my throat.  For one horrid instant I feared asphyxiation as I lay
gasping, but then the muscles relaxed and air was once again allowed to sustain
my fragile grip on the thread of life.  If forced to choose my own death from
a list of options, suffocation would be rather low on my personal wish-list and
thus an experience to be actively avoided.
     It surprised me that Noelle permitted the touch to persist instead of
snatching her hand out from beneath my own.  Perhaps she had forgiven me for
my admittedly forceful attentions, but with those amethyst eyes steadfastly
avoiding my own, it was hard to say what her true feelings were.
     "Your wounds will heal given time," she whispered quietly, the lilt in her
voice betraying her Elven ancestry even more than her distinct beauty.  It was
said that the voice of an Elf could charm the beasts of nature with its soft
innocence and promise of gentleness, regardless of the intent of the one whose
tongue the sounds slip off of.  Part of the reason I had lusted after her for
so long before taking matters into my own hands.
     "And, no doubt, guided by a skilled healing touch such as your own," I
murmured to her.  "It is good to see you again," I added, speaking the honest
truth while declining to state specifically why.  Terrifying your allies is
never a good thing, or so my Master keeps telling me.
     "How do you feel?" she asked quietly, a question I suspect was asked more
out of a sense of duty than for any true compassion.  Her eyes refused to meet
mine, an obvious sign of her discomfort with my presence.  A pity, really, as
she had once been quite comfortable with me in the past....
     "I have had better days," I replied smoothly with a subtle squeeze of her
hand, savoring the warmth of the contact.  I still had the suspicion that my
skin would somehow come to dislike exposure to sunlight or other sources of
bright radiance, but if it meant that any touch would feel as sensuous to me as
her hand did now, it would be a more than welcome trade-off.
     "And far better nights," I added softly with a hint of genuine emotion to
my tone.  Surprisingly, the admission is what finally drew her eyes to mine,
allowing me once again to stare, if ever so briefly, into the depths of her
amethyst eyes and thus into her hybrid soul.
     "How long am I to remain here?" Chrystalis said in a tone as flat as the
blade of a sword and just as edged.  Noelle jumped as the demand seemed to snap
her out of some sort of enchantment, blinking rapidly and withdrawing her hand
out from beneath mine.  "If his health is stabilized, then I would like for my
own life-blood to remain where it is."
     "Ironic as it may seem," I said with a faint smile as Noelle shrank back
away from the both of us as if we were a pair of lepers, "I am in agreement
with our holy knight.  While I am questionably grateful for her blood, I have
no desire to further leech it from her veins.  At least," I added, giving the
paladin a deliberately feral look, "Not without being able to take it directly
from the source."
     It was a joke, of course, as I have about as much desire to taste blood
as I would care for another dose of the shadow poison that caused me to end up
here in the first place.  If looks could kill, I have absolutely no doubt that
I would have been impaled through the chest like a common vampire.  A small
chuckle escaped past my lips as I studied the look on Chrystalis' face, amused
that I was able to push her buttons so easily.  Perhaps in another time and
place I might have asked what she was thinking, but I had already had my fill
of rhetoric for one pain-filled evening.
     Noelle, on the other hand, looked like she was trying to decide if she
should bolt from the room in horror or simply wet herself with fear.  I must
admit that I enjoyed seeing the primal look in those almond-shaped eyes, but I
would be quite willing to forego savoring that pleasure if it meant avoiding
having her bladder react to my sense of humor.  While I have found amusement
and entertainment in a few, shall we say, less than morally acceptable ways, I
do not sink to the level of abject depravity.
     "Well?" Chrystalis demanded as she focused her icy gaze on Noelle.  "I
asked a question.  Speak, girl!"
     "I-I-I will speak with the Master Healer," the half-Elven acolyte blurted
out as she quickly went for the door and darted outside.  Her reaction, while
not completely unexpected, left a bit of a puzzled frown on my face.  She was
a touch on the flighty side, having borne years of humiliation because of her
mixed heritage in a land not known for racial kindness, but it seemed to me
that there was more to her hasty departure than a mere case of fright.
     "Was that really necessary?" I asked quietly as I made a very valiant
attempt at sitting up again.  I had no more success this time than during my
previous attempt, but if nothing else I was able to ascertain that, stitches
aside, everything else was where it should be.
     My reward was another lethal glare of righteousness.  "Silence," she said
in a tone one simply didn't expect to hear from a woman.  Except, of course,
for when she was in a situation of extreme duress, such as childbirth.  I was
more bothered by the undertone of arrogance than anything, and being more than
a little arrogant myself I thought it best not to let it pass unchallenged.
     "Or what, my dear?" I inquired.  "Shall you cut my throat so as to not
hear any questions about your imperialistic attitude?  I have known Noelle for
a number of years now, and you are the first who dares talk to her in such a
demeaning fashion.... or is the rest of your order as arrogant as you are?"
     I almost smiled as her expression seemed to light up like a torch thrown
into a large pile of dried moss.  "Silence!" she repeated.  "I am a noblewoman
of high standing in the Order of the Sunstorm, and I will not be lectured to by
one of the Dark Ones!  Hold your tongue or I will have it held for you!"
     I couldn't resist, I simply couldn't.  "Only if you will hold it with just
your lips," I replied smoothly with a gleam in my eye.  "It is a rather unique
sensation, having one's tongue held thusly, and I'm sure a noble woman such as
yourself has had the finest of training in such a delicate art."
     Upon later reflection, it was perhaps not the best choice of words, but
one that elicited a very forceful response that was quite entertaining to
observe.  Her eyes widened for a moment as the shock registered on her brain.
Then I would have sworn before any magistrate that the blood vessels in her
eyes exploded, or at least seemed to as a fiery rage ignited in their depths
that rivaled the glare of the noon-day sun itself.
     The blanket was tossed aside in a frenzied motion, exposing the rest of
her exquisitely toned figure.  A nightgown covered her down to her knees, but
the thin fabric couldn't hide the shape of the sculpted muscles that dwelled
beneath it.  Those same muscles flexed quite impressively as she exploded out
of the bed and onto her feet, denoting strength as well as agility.
     I didn't have time to fantasize about feeling those legs wrapped around
my waist in an intimate moment, however, as her next step was to lunge across
the room at me, her hand swinging up in a tight arc.  I suppose that, fully
healed and under better conditions, I could have stood a chance of successful
resistance, but as it was I could only watch as the edge of her hand descended
in agonizing slow-motion.
     The world seemed to tilt sharply as the force of the blow tore along my
jaw.  Much like my experience with weapons, I had been on the receiving end of
far more such blows than I would ever care to admit and thus knew that, as
powerful as it was, her strike would not dislocate anything.  The bruise it
would leave would be another matter entirely, but I would be more than willing
to settle for leaving it at that.
     Unfortunately, something tore in the process and I once again was exposed
to the metallic taste of my own blood.  As unpleasant as previous instances had
been, this one was even more so, no doubt due to the lingering effects of the
shadow poison.  I'm sure the transfusion didn't help matters, but perhaps there
was just a hint of the taste of her essence as the warm and bitter fluid coated
my lips and tongue.
     "You dare," she seethed as she stood over me like an avenging angel, her
chest heaving with barely contained rage.  I have to confess that, all things
aside, this was perhaps the most flattering view of her I had yet to see.  The
fact that she was in a position to threaten my life was somehow unimportant,
but only for a brief moment before a degree of sanity reasserted itself.
     "Typical," I murmured as I brought my fingers to my lips, dabbing them in
the dark blood and examining it carefully.  "Tell me, Lady Chrystalis, how does
your order deal with violations of sacred oaths, such as the one you have just
so willingly committed?  Or do you just now realize what you've done?" I added
as I watched her ice-blue eyes go from rage to realization.
     Most would argue that I richly deserved such a retort for my tongue, but
I knew that a sharp wit could cut just as deeply, if not deeper, than a sharp
sword.  Knowing that I had her in a very untenable position, I decided to use
the moment to the utmost and pressed my verbal onslaught.
     "Imagine what your order will do when they find out that their high and
noble champion of Light is no better than a common knave, attacking a possibly
innocent man and then later assaulting him as he lay on what might become his
death-bed, and for what?  For the crime of merely speaking his mind, however
crude it might have been?" I asked quietly, staring hard into her eyes.
     Her expression hardened.  "You dare paint yourself as innocent?  You have
studied your dark art at the knee of the Shadow Mage himself," she hissed.  "I
think my order would hail me as a heroine for ridding the land of your kind."
     A faint smile tugged at my lips.  "Shall we find out, my lady?" I said
lightly, watching a sudden sense of unease creep into her eyes.  It was a mild
source of amusement how light-colored eyes such as hers were uniformly unable
to effectively conceal emotions as well as dark-colored eyes were.
     I took her silence to mean that, if only for the moment, that I had the
moral high-ground on this holy knight.  An idea suddenly formed in my mind, one
that appeared on the surface to be reckless at best, but if given enough time
and forethought could become most beneficial in the long run.  I admit that
such flashes of inspiration rarely worked in practice, but even my Master had
agreed that the original concepts, once explained and viewed in retrospect,
were somewhere between brilliant and the work of a genius.
     The trick, of course, would be actually pulling it off without getting
myself killed or otherwise further injured.  And as the bitter taste of my own
blood oozing in my mouth reminded me, I was not exactly having much success.
     "It seems you have found yourself in a quandary, my dear," I said in a
silken tone, drawing a venomous look from her.  "On the one hand, you seem 
quite proud of your deed and would, no doubt, willingly do so again.  Yet on
the other hand, you seem to feel some genuine regret for letting one such as I
get the best of you for a brief moment.  Tell me, paladin, do you think you can
set aside your righteous pride long enough to show some of that humility that
your order preaches and possibly avoid a confrontation in the process?"
     Her eyes flashed in anger for a moment before subsiding back down to a
contained smoulder of resentment.  "What do you mean?" she said flatly, her
mouth compressed into a thin, bitter line.
     The fact that she was still at least willing to listen to me was proof
enough for the moment that I was on the right track.  "We can send word to your
order to see what their stance is on what has transpired, or we can see if we
can settle a minor difference or two between us here and now.  I am actually
somewhat of a forgiving man, and if convinced of a state of genuine repentance
I would see no need to bother your order for such a minor transgression that
can be rather easily forgiven and somewhat forgotten."
     I had chosen my words carefully so that I might avoid any accusations of
attempting to blackmail her.  I was, of course, but the asking price would be
a quite reasonable one.  As another student of my Master once shared with me,
you always start off easy on your victim so as not to be easily noticed.  Her
response, and her subsequent level of cooperation, would determine if my first
foray in binding her to my will would be successful or not.
     She seemed to contemplate my words with agonizing slowness, her beautiful
face frozen in a cold mask of repressed anger.  And yet I still thought I could
see a glimpse of remorse in those ice-blue eyes of hers, a twinge of guilt for
having violated her self-imposed rules and moral guides for her behavior.  A
tiny crack in her aura of righteousness, and yet sometimes a tiny crack is all
that is needed.
     "And what would you have me do, then?" she finally asked, her voice laced
with barely concealed resentment.  Her response could have been more promising,
but it was a definite victory nonetheless for her to continue contemplating the
action.
     I very carefully reached up and wiped my lips free of blood with the
sleeve of my robe.  "I see no purpose in having you debase yourself, my lady,"
I said quietly.  "Such things are for evening prayers between you and your
deities.  All my forgiveness requires is for you to take my hand in yours and
offer a sincere apology.  Nothing more."
     I was able to catch a fleeting glimpse of stunned disbelief in her eyes
before the veil of distrust and suspicion was once again drawn over them.  "I
find it hard to believe that you would be so forgiving given the current set of
circumstances," she hedged, a faint edge still clinging to her tone.
     "Does your own order not preach the virtues of turning the other cheek and
offering divine forgiveness in the face of hostility?" I replied with what I
hoped was just the right amount of wounded indignation.  "I freely admit to
having been touched by the Dark, but I have done absolutely nothing to warrant
such a forceful response from the Light, and even when I seek to make amends
with the very same humility you espouse, I am scorned?  I sought no enemy when
I came here seeking aid for my condition, and even now I do not desire to have
any enemies made."
     The flicker in her eyes told me that my words had finally slipped past her
righteous aggression and pierced her core.  Annoying as the Light can be, the
ease in which you can turn their own rules against them to entrap them in as
neat a web as any spider can weave is nothing short of astonishing.  And much
like being tangled in a web, the first paralyzing bite is usually the most
painful with the rest being felt increasingly less as each nerve falls prey to
a different bite.
     My breath seemed to leave my body of its own accord as she reached out and
took my hand in hers with a surprisingly gentle touch.  Her skin didn't have
the same fevered warmth to it that Omen's touch had evoked, nor the electric
sensation produced by Noelle's hand, but it was a sensation to be savored all
the same.  It was entrancing enough that I didn't notice the chamber door being
opened quietly, nor for that matter did Chrystalis.
     "I am.... sorry for what I have done, Master Aerce," she said quietly.  It
was obvious that the words were not easy for her to speak, which made them all
the more valuable to be spoken and heard.  "You are right about what my order
teaches, and I apologize for failing to live up to the standards of a Holy
Knight of the Sunstorm."
     It was tender moments like this that I was truly grateful for my innate
sense of charm.  I smiled gently at her as I brought her hand up to my lips,
kissing the back of her hand softly.  "Your apology is accepted, my Lady
Chrystalis, and you do your order credit for having the courage to offer it,"
I murmured.  "You are forgiven, and I pray that perhaps this might be the first
step in erasing any animosity between you and I."
     I saw that her lips tightened momentarily when I kissed her hand, but she
otherwise failed to show any signs of hostile emotion.  Given the fact that not
ten minutes earlier she would have just as soon killed me with her bare hands
before allowing me to touch her, I took this to be a quite fortunate turn of
events and a harbinger of good things to come.  With time and proper effort, of
course, as such radical shifts in viewpoint don't take place overnight....
     "Unbelievable," a voice said from the doorway, startling both myself and
Chrystalis.  It made for an interesting tableau, as one who had no knowledge of
the situation would have walked into the room and seen a wounded man seeming to
be trying to seduce a beautiful woman and in the process of wooing her with a
few light kisses on her hand.  It was not overly far from the mark, I must
admit, but I'm sure trying to couch it in such terms to anyone else would have
earned me quite a number of hostile and unwelcome reactions.
     It was quite expected for Chrystalis to snatch her hand away from my lips
and to take a hasty step back, an obvious look of guilt on her face as Aria
Softheart quietly entered the room and closed the door behind her.  "Earlier
today she tried to kill you, Aerce, and now you have her apologizing to you in
a somewhat intimate fashion?  You are truly amazing."
     "M-Master Healer," Chrystalis stammered briefly.  "I can explain...."
     Aria just shook her head and held her hand up.  "That is quite alright, my
dear, I have no desire to know how exactly he did it.  Master Aerce here has a
way with women, it seems," she added dryly with a glance in my direction.
     "Aria, you wound me," I replied coyly as Chrystalis gave me a slightly
unamused look.  "I merely indulged in a little academic debate with our dear
Holy Knight and was able to get her to see that, as reprehensible as my mere
presence in life is, I have yet to do anything that would deserve retribution
by such a noble order of society and that her actions were unwarranted.  And as
she is a reasonable woman, she apologized for her own actions and was thus
forgiven."
     It was always amusing to watch her take a slow and deep breath as she
struggled to discern the meanings of my words, both hidden and overt, and not
just because it caused her chest to expand in a somewhat inviting fashion.  I
had the double enjoyment of seeing an identical look on Chrystalis' alluring
face, no doubt fighting her own battle to determine my true intentions.
     "Or is it asking too much," I said slowly, "To have a little faith that
even a wretch such as I, who takes delight in studying dark magic, can have a
sense of understanding, forgiveness, and dare I even say, some compassion?"
     The look exchanged by Aria and Chrystalis was nothing short of memorable,
and I would have seriously considered laying a wager on the odds that Aria was
at this very moment contemplating a stiff drink.  While such in indulgence was
far from encouraged for followers of Erza, it was not an expressly forbidden
indulgence either, and so it would not have surprised me to learn that some of
her days might have ended not in prayer but in the bottom of a decanter once
she finished with her nightly composition to her deity.
     "Be that as it may, Aerce, it is surprising nonetheless," Aria said in a
slightly weary tone.  "Now if the two of you are finished, I can....  Why are
you bleeding again?" she interrupted herself as she saw the faint traces of
blood I had tried removing.
     "A rather childish accident," I said smoothly before Chrystalis could open
her mouth.  "It seems my body woke up before my mind fully emerged from a....
rather vivid dream, and I managed to somehow acquaint my hand with my mouth."
     Chrystalis blinked hard at my lie, no doubt wondering why I hadn't offered
her up for blame in the instant Aria walked in through the door.  To be honest,
however, it was initially a case of my mouth operating slightly ahead of the
rest of my brain.  However, a brief contemplation brought to mind several ways
I could use this to my advantage, the least of which being a possibly minor
case of guilt on her part for my seeming protection of her honor.
     A faint frown crossed the anchorite's face.  "That seems to be a rather
solid bruise," she commented as she examined the corner of my mouth.
     "Tell me you have never experienced vivid nightmares before," I replied
calmly to her studious gaze.  That prompted a very guarded look from her before
she turned her attention to Chrystalis, a sudden suspicion on her face.  I
noticed the sudden unease in the paladin's eyes and so I tossed out one final
verbal decoy.
     "Or do you think that Lady Chrystalis would be so foolish or careless as
to ignore her life's teachings of honor and justice to attack a wounded man as
he sleeps in his bed?" I said, adding just the right amount of sarcasm that
Aria was used to hearing from me.  It was a dangerous gambit, but the best of
lies are the ones crafted as pearls around a tiny seed of truth.  "Bad enough
she attacks me before even knowing my name, but as I said before.... we had a
discussion about the issue and reached an understanding, and she is quite a
reasonable woman.  Once she puts down the sword and listens to you talk," I
added with a faint smirk, just to prove I wasn't being too generous with my
apparent praise of the paladin.
     Aria blinked and gave Chrystalis a very long look before sighing quietly
to herself.  She then reached up to deactivate the transfusion device on the
paladin's arm, very carefully withdrawing it from the vein.  "Sit back down,"
she instructed in a neutral tone.  "You need to rest before moving around."
     I would not have been able to guess what Aria's thoughts were if I hadn't
had the benefit of knowing her myself as well as having heard Omen's thoughts
on how Aria's mind worked.  I suspected she knew what had truly transpired, as
well as how much trouble Chrystalis would face for the assault, but was at a
complete loss to even remotely fathom why I was trying to protect Chrystalis
instead of crucifying her on her own principles.  No doubt it was a puzzle that
would keep her awake long into tonight, if not many nights after that.
     I would have smiled at the thought if my lips didn't hurt so much.
     Aria made no discernable noise as she moved next to me and examined the
transfuser on my arm.  She waited for several moments before she switched off
the odd device and delicately withdrew the needle from my vein.  The puncture
wound that remained behind oozed slightly, producing a rather disconcerting
composition of two distict tints of blood that caught my eye.
     "I have a question, Master Healer," I said, intrigued by the sight.  "Is
her blood unusually bright, or is my blood unusually dark?"
     I could hear the laugh of contempt being suppressed in Chrystalis's chest
as she sat back down on her bed.  "Which do you think it is?" she replied with
a faint sneer.
     "It's both," Aria said quietly as she stored the transfusers in a hidden
pocket in her robes.  "The brightness is not unusual, however, as fresh blood
is often more vibrant than blood that seeps from a wound.  Do you need to have
that bound?" she asked, referring to the still oozing puncture.
     "Not something as minor as that," I said wearily.  "But I thank you for
your compassion all the same.... even if there are days in which you view it
more as a duty than anything."
     Aria paused and gave me a level look.  "I would not be so quick to judge
the feelings of others," she reproached me.  "True that I am bound by duty to
aid others, regardless of personal feelings, but I do so quite willingly.  Do
you require something for your mouth?" she added almost as an afterthought.
     Her words were delivered in her usual bedside manner, but the varying ways
in which her statement could have been taken, coupled with the sheer volume of
flip and crass replies that sprang to mind, momentarily rendered me speechless
as I sifted for a proper answer.  I quickly realized that she was talking about
what had caused my mouth to bleed, but the look in her eyes was perhaps just a
little too guarded to be a routine inquiry.
     A small smile touched my lips as I let my eyes close of their own accord.
"My dear Lady Softheart, whatever do you mean?" I murmured softly, giving her
a subtle acknowledgement of having been caught so completely unprepared.  It
came as no real surprise to me that she could twist words as well as I could,
having been subjected to my own verbal fencing for some time now.  When one
plays a game, it is always possible for the other side to gain a victory every
now and then as well.  Sometimes it truly isn't a matter of who wins or loses,
but how the game is played.  Sometimes.
     I couldn't see her faint smile, but I could definitely hear it in her
voice.  "I think you would prefer a rinsing solution rather than something more
potent that I would be quite willing to procure to cleanse the venom that has
taken up residence on your tongue," she said mildly.  "No doubt a residual
influence of that poison you ingested."
     There were many things I could have said in reply to her, but I thought
that it was perhaps in my best interests to let her have her victory in this
particular battle.  After all, she did save my life, or at least what's left
of it, and the thought of something to drink was rather appealing.
     "A glass of water if you please, Master Healer," I conceded as I opened
my eyes to look at her.  The flash of amusement, brief as it had been, was
quite noticeable in her eyes as she turned and left the room with that damnably
soft smile still touching her lips.  I sensed that I would pay a steep price
for yielding this match to her, as no doubt her smiling visage would haunt me
in my dreams for a period of time.
     A soft sigh escaped my lips as I tried to relax and assess my physical
condition.  The wound on my chest still ached, of course, but I could sense no
numbed or deadened nerves.  That was a mixed blessing at best, for while it
meant that I had no need to fear a loss of sensation or motion once the wound
fully healed, I would have to bear a considerable burden of pain and weakness
until it actually did so.  That did not bode well for me, as I had every reason
to believe I would be summoned soon to my Master's side and that a prompt
appearance at his 'request' would very much be in my best interests.
     Perhaps this would become another test of my strength, I mused as I looked
up at the ceiling.  Would I be strong enough to survive the return journey to
Lord Skyblade's keep so soon after being poisoned and almost fatally wounded?
It had taken me five days instead of the usual four to reach here, all the
while with the shadow poison coursing through my body.  By accident or design,
however, the poison had taken days before finally debilitating me, at which
point I had already managed to find my way inside the convent gates.
     I glanced to my side to look at Chrystalis.  She was sitting on the bed
with her legs crossed and her back to the wall, almost as if in a meditative
position.  It seemed to be working for her, as the usually stern lines that
had only minorly marred her countenance were quite invisible, giving her cold
angelic beauty an even softer mien that many a man would have killed to feel
beneath their fingertips.  Including myself.
     My admiring gaze must have disturbed her attempts at inner peace, for it
was only a matter of moments before her ice-blue eyes opened and glanced in my
general direction.  It took but an instant of recognition before her neutral
gaze hardened like steel and the faint lines to return to her expression.
     "Yes?" she inquired in the flat tone that I had come to expect from her.
     I had already made my decision several minutes ago when the first seed of
the idea was planted in my mind, but like all gardening it takes constant care
and tending to help a seed bloom into a flower.  I would have to tread very
carefully for awhile and choose my words with far greater care than I am
usually accustomed to, but I thought that my goal was quite possible.
     "Forgive me, Lady Chrystalis, but I must admit at being quite drawn by
your natural beauty," I said quietly in a tone that I hoped wasn't too laced
with honey.  Flattery is a delicate art, and too much at once can ruin the
effect just as easily as a blatant insult can.  "As accustomed as I am to the
weaving of spells, it is not often I find myself so.... enchanted."
     "Spare me your flattering words," she replied, almost exactly as I had
predicted she would.  "I have little interest in what you might think of me."
     Oh, if only the rest of life could be scripted so easily....  "Quite the
contrary, my holy knight, I think you will be quite interested in what I think
of your strength and skills," I replied smoothly.  "If nothing else, our little
encounter in the courtyard has only increased my respect for the power of the
Light and the training of your order."
     "As well the Dark should respect us," she said primly.
     I remained calm on the outside, but inwardly I was very much rolling my
eyes.  Should some enterprising man or woman discover a way to dispel an aura
of arrogance as easily as some minor magical wards could be made to shatter
like glass when dispersed, they would be quite the wealthy individual in very
short order.  Until such a time, however, I would have to resort to the usual
methods of stripping arrogance from a soul, but that particular exercise was
of minor importance at the moment.
     "Be that as it may, I should like to ask you what your travel plans are
for the immediate future?" I asked in a somewhat humbled tone.  Her response
would have been the same no matter how I could have phrased the request, but I
saw little point in unnecessary vocal provocation at the moment.     
     Her eyes flashed into anger yet again.  "What business is it of yours?"
she asked harshly.  "I need not inform the Dark Ones of where I go from here."
     "As you no doubt know, my dear, I have just recently finished my studies
with my Master as his apprentice," I said carefully, leaving just enough of a
pause at the end of my statement as bait for a respose.
     "Congratulations," she replied with enough sarcasm that, if distilled,
could probably scorch a considerable crater in a rock.
     "Thank you," I said graciously.  "I have reason to believe, however, that
I will be called before my Master in very short order for the Ceremony of the
Robes.  The only problem, however, is that I don't exactly seem to be in the
best condition for travelling at the moment...."
     Her expression suddenly took on a guarded look.  Perhaps she was wondering
why I was bothering to tell her of my situation, or perhaps she was starting to
plot an ambush that would finish what started in the courtyard.  In any case,
her sudden change of mood was slightly disconcerting.... even if it was just
what I was looking for.
     The door opened almost silently and Aria walked in with two rather large
cups in her hands.  She walked between the beds and handed one to each of us
without comment, a slightly distracted look on her face.  Something was on her
mind, and I didn't think it had anything to do with me.  A faint smile touched
my lips as I decided I would change that in a moment.
     "Thank you, Aria," I said with genuine gratefulness as I promptly drank
deeply from the cup.  It was sometimes amazing how cool water can taste to a
person, even when slightly tainted with the taste of blood in the mouth.  I
must have quaffed half of the contents in a single swallow, sighing as I felt
my throat relax as it absorbed the much-needed water.
     Chrystalis offered a more formal bow of her head.  "Thank you, Master
Healer," she replied as she too indulged in a deep draft of spring water.
     Cruel as I could be, I waited until she had taken a far smaller sip from
the cup before I spoke up again.  "The point to my question, my lady, is that
I will be heading east in short order, and if your assignment permits, I would
like for you to accompany me on my journey," I said calmly and evenly.
     I would have laughed aloud at the reaction if I didn't fear immediate and
summary execution by either of them.  The shock of my words caused Chrystalis
to choke as she swallowed, creating an explosion of water as she spluttered and
coughed for air.  Aria was likewise stunned beyond words, so much so that she
categorically failed to react at being doused by the spray of water that had
been flung across the room, her jaw sagging open of its own free will.
     "Have you gone mad?" Chrystalis rasped as she cleared her lungs with a
final and forceful cough.
     Aria blinked and gave me a pitying look.  "She may have a point, Aerce.
I must admit that I suddenly find myself not entirely sanguine about your state
of mental health," she said in a somewhat worried tone.
     I somehow managed to force myself into a sitting position, drawing a gasp
from my lips and a look of warning from Aria as my chest seemed to briefly
ignite with pain.  "I assure the both of you that I am quite in possession of
my mind," I said through gritted teeth, waiting for the pain to settle one
agonizing bit at a time.  "In fact, I am quite serious in my request, for a few
reasons that I will be glad to explain if you are just as willing to try to
listen with an open mind.  Should the notion seem so repulsive to you that you
would reject it without hearing me out, however, then I shall not waste your
time or my breath."
     Sometimes, even a simple gesture has its uses.  I spent the next several
seconds with my nose buried in the cup, savoring the remaining mouthfuls of
water not only to quench my thirst but to give them time to consider my offer
as well.  I had every confidence that Aria would be willing to hear me out, if
only out of sheer intellectual curiosity, but I was not as confident about
Chrystalis' senses of tolerance and curiosity.  I didn't believe I had pushed
my luck to the breaking point just yet, but Chrystalis was both a woman and a
a follower of the Light.  Neither were overly comforting or optimistic factors
in my book, the former due to inherent unpredictability and the latter namely
to institutional arrogance.
     "I must confess some curiosity, Aerce," Aria said quietly.  "It may be a
touch of arrogance to assume my intellectual capacity is equal to yours, but I
cannot see a logical reason for your invitation for a Sunstorm Paladin, who is
a noble champion of the Light, to escort you into the heart of the domain of
one of the Dark Ones.  Most would dismiss it as a petition for suicide on her
part, if nothing else."
     I tilted my head slightly in recognition of her views, but otherwise held
my tongue as I waited for a response from Chrystalis.  She was glaring at me
with her usual degree of righteous arrogance, but I thought I could see the
corners of her mouth twitching faintly as she thought about the issue.  The
fact that she hasn't condemned my request yet was promise enough, and at this
critical junction of apparent indecision I dared not prod her any further.
     Those sensual lips of hers finally parted, and the words that fell from
them did so with deliberate and agonizing slowness.  "Do not let it be said
that the Light fails to listen to the voice of reason should it speak, even if
it does so with the tongue of the Dark.  Speak, mage."
     I bowed my head to her in recognition of both her words and her probably
accidential gesture of respect.  While I was finished with my apprenticeship
and was ready to don the formal robes of a mage, I was still not quite worthy
of the title yet.  However accidental it might have been, I was not about to
try to correct her.
     "Indeed, my lady," I said quietly, "I appreciate your willingness to hear
me out.  My request for your august company as an escort is based on three
distinct lines of thought, the first being so that we may keep an eye on one
another.  A Holy Knight in a realm such as this is bound to cause a few, shall
we say, misunderstandings among the population, and I should not like to see
you come to harm.  My presence at your side should go some ways in easing the
concerns of the common man.  By the same token, I understand your concerns for
my dark nature, and so I think you would feel slightly better if you knew where
I was and what I was doing at all times."
     "I am more than capable of taking care of myself," Chrystalis replied in
a glacial tone.  "I need no guide to show me what I seek in this foul land."
     Aria laid a gentle hand on the paladin's shoulder.  "Let him speak," the
Master Healer said quietly.  "Even if you reject one reason, there are still
others to consider and I should like to hear them."
     "Very well," Chrystalis muttered, casting a dark glare at me.  "Continue."
     I would have made a remark about her kindness in giving her pemission if
I wasn't actively trying to avoid upsetting her.  "The second reason deals not
with me, but my sister," I explained calmly.  "Once she hears of the ceremony
that I don't doubt I will be soon called to attend, she will probably be most
adamant about coming along to observe.  Like you, my lady, I can take care of
myself, at least under most circumstances, but I am not nearly as confident of
my ability to protect her as well.  Your purpose, then, would be to serve as a
guardian for a travelling member of this convent."
     Chrystalis gave me a wary look, but Aria was nodding her head slowly in
understanding.  "Yes, I fear you are right about Omen's insistence," she said
quietly, seeming to age a decade right before my eyes.  It is always quite
interesting to watch how stress can change a person in a blink of an eye.  "I
would, of course, not recommend such a journey for her, but I know just as well
as you do that she is very much a strong-willed young woman.  Especially when
it involves you," she added dryly.
     I sighed loudly, more out of genuine frustration than theatrics.  While I
dearly loved my little sister, there were times in which she could be quite
overbearing in her concern for me.  I knew that no harm would befall her should
she attend the ceremony as a guest, at least not at the hands of my Master or
his allies, but I would rather not try to tempt Fate any more than necessary.
     "Be that as it may, my dear," I said to Aria, "This is still merely an
academic discussion as I have yet to receive such a summons.  And speaking of
academics, my third reason for requesting Lady Chrystalis for an escort is so
that we might learn from one another.  Please, let me finish, my lady," I said
as I held up my hand in response to the change in Chrystalis' demeanor.
     She leaned back against the pillow with a venomous look in her eyes, but
thankfully held her tongue.  Perhaps I had finally succeeded in getting her
attention, but again I was not overly inclined to press my luck this evening.
     "It is my belief that part of the seemingly endless conflict between the
agents of the Light and the Dark stems from simple misunderstandings.  Make no
mistake, I realize that each side has reason to protest the actions of the
other, but what about when no action has yet to be taken?  This afternoon, for
example, could most likely have been different in outcome had I been able to
sit down and discuss matters with you as we are doing so at this very moment.
Tell me, Sunstorm Paladin, is it not preferable to exchange viewpoints and try
to understand all sides of the story before any action is taken?"
     Her chin came up in a defiant manner, striking a haughty pose that under
other circumstances would be somewhat attractive.  "I have spent virtually my
entire life learning the ways of the Light, and studying the deeds of the Dark
Ones," she snarled.  "What could the likes of you possibly teach me?"
     I slowly tossed the sheet aside and moved to stand up, a rather painful
evolution that drew a rather concerned look from Aria.  She could see the toll
that my movements took on me, but for reasons of her own did not attempt to
warn me of possibly dire consequences.  Perhaps she figured that I would most
likely ignore them and decided to save her breath, but in any case her sudden
silence was rather welcomed.
     I had expected the floor to be cold, as my boots were elsewhere and the
setting sun was no longer able to provide warmth, but the sensation was far
worse than anticipated.  It was akin to walking barefoot in a snowfield, an
experience I once had as a child after being knocked off my feet by a rather
well-aimed snowball.  I had forgiven Omen, of course, but only after I found
where my boots had ended up and my toes allowed to defrost.
     "Tell me, Chrystalis," I said quietly as I slowly shuffled over to her
bed, wincing as my feet seemed to go numb almost immediately.  "Is there only
Light and Dark, with nothing in between?"
     Chrystalis snorted in contempt.  "Between the Light and the Dark is the
Shadow," she replied.  "A spectral nothingness that abhors the Light, for when
touched by radiance it dissolves back to whence it came."
     I nodded slowly, for the concept was one of the most fundamental truths
of the structure of our existence.  "Do you contend that shadows are part of
the Dark, then?" I prodded in a neutral tone.
     "Of course," she replied instantly.  "That which shrinks from the purity
of the Light is just as unworthy as that which actively hides from it."
     Again I nodded, quietly amused at being able to steer the conversation in
the direction I desired with very little effort.  I finally reached the side of
her bed and leaned against the wall, not desiring to approach any closer at the
moment.  That was not to suggest the thought of approaching her in bed did not
appeal to me, but only that trying to do so at this point in time would surely
be quite detrimental to my fragile state of health.
     "What of those touched by a shadow, then?" I said casually, drawing a
sharp look from Aria.  Perhaps she saw where I was going with this, but again
she held her tongue for her own reasons.  "Do they become just as corrupted and
unworthy as those who actively do dark deeds, merely because of a causal
contact?"
     Her voice was like a frozen river, moving slowly and just as devoid of
warmth.  "There is no such thing as casual contact with the Dark Ones," she
replied.  "Their touch is quite corrupting, as you are no doubt well aware of.
Or have you not yet looked in a mirror?" she added with a faint sneer.
     I stood still for a brief moment, the dark part of me wondering just how
soft her lips were, and how sweet they might taste upon my own.  I found it
quite bothersome how I could be so attracted to someone who quite obviously
wanted me dead, or at least grievously wounded once again.  Perhaps once my
soul has moved beyond this wretched existence I might be able to finally obtain
an answer to that question, but for the moment I had to worry about other
issues.
     My hand slowly reached up to the window, blocking the fading orange glow
and casting a spidery shadow upon Chrystalis' beauty.  "See how my touch on the
window cuts off the light," I said quietly.  "See how it leaves a shadow of my
touch across the gentle contours of your face.  I just cut you off from the
light by a simple gesture, Lady Chrystalis, one made without your consent and
beyond your control.  Will you now claim that you have truly been touched by
the darkness, tainted beyond redemption?  Or will you brush off such a notion
and seek to find a way to move beyond my reach to once again bathe in the glory
of the sun's golden embrace, as pure as you were a moment before?"
     The silence that followed was almost melodic.  Most considered it to be
quite an oxymoron to believe that silence could have a sound, but one merely
has to compare the stillness of the air around a graveyard to the sharp clarity
of sound made by falling snow to understand that even the absence of sound can
be heard.
     The look on Chrystalis' face as I lowered my hand was introspective, her
ice-blue eyes thoughtful as the fading light once again spilled across her to
tint platinum-blonde hair with crimson highlights.  She looked up at me, her
eyes still tainted with hatred for me, but yet I would have sworn that I saw
something else flicker briefly in those mirrors of the soul, a faint glimmer of
understanding, perhaps, or even a hint of respect.  Fleeting as it was, I knew
that seeds were not often seen except when planted, but that they could still
grow in secrecy for a time before starting to reveal themselves.
     "That was rather profound, Master Aerce," Aria said quietly, reminding me
of her presence in the room.
     I pushed myself away from the wall and moved over to her side.  I gently
took her hand in my own, marvelling for a moment at the warmth of her touch and
the pale softness of her skin.  Finding no resistance to my presence, I gently
brought her hand to my lips for a brief moment.  "Your words honor me with such
sentiments, Master Healer," I murmured quietly.  "As much as we sometimes have
less than noble opinions of one another, I readily concede that you have found
a far greater degree of wisdom than I in contemplating such matters.  That you
saw fit to comment as such on my own grasp of issues is quite the unexpected
and humbling experience."
     It was a quiet desire of mine to one day be able to capture such moments
and preserve them for later enjoyment, for the expression that crossed Aria's
face for one brief instant was truly memorable.  It was a pity that I had so
little time to study the look in her now-guarded eyes and impassive face, but
perhaps that was the reason I took so much enjoyment in such a fleeting thing,
one tiny grain of sand suspended in the hourglass for the blink of an eye.
     "Thank you for such kind words," Aria replied as she very gently tugged
her hand free from mine and edged back half a step.  "However, unless you have
anything else to say at the moment, I think it best if you were to lay back
down.  You have barely begun to heal yourself, and it is not wise for you to
be on your feet just yet."
     I bowed my head in acceptance of her advice.  I had just come to that
conclusion myself moments earlier, as I was getting the faint suggestion that
the constant tug of gravity on my body was no longer so rigidly constant.  As
such a wobble is an indication of a weakened sense of balance, among various
other unsavory issues, I had little choice but to accede to her request if I
wanted to retain any semblance of dignity.  I might have forgiven myself for
falling down, but displaying a sign of weakness before a would-be executioner
such as Chrystalis is a sin not casually absolved.
     As I shuffled back to my bed, I heard Aria's soft voice continuing behind
me.  "As for you, Chrystalis, I would suggest that you avoid exerting yourself
for a few days and recommend that you keep movement to a minimum until at least
sunrise," she advised the holy knight.  "While you are in excellent overall
health, you are still weakened at the moment by the blood loss."
     I could almost feel Chrystalis' flat gaze boring into the back of my neck
as I reached the edge of my bed and slowly laid back down, acutely aware of the
tension in my chest.  I had already acquired a number of scars from various
incidents and 'lessons' from my Master, much like how a tapestry can depict a
story from a collection of small images, but none were as large or as prominent
as this one would most likely become once it fully healed.
     "Am I to remain in here?" Chrystalis asked, her flat tone bringing an odd
smile to my lips for some unknown reason.  Was I that entranced by her that I
was unable to discern a rhyme or reason to my reaction?  A dangerous situation
to be in, I realized, one that I would have to keep a very careful eye on when
dealing with her in the future.
     "You may return to your room if you wish," Aria said quietly.  "I thank
you for your aid in keeping him alive."
     I dared not glance over at Chrystalis to see the expression on her face,
tempting as it was.  I had the feeling that things were already being set into
motion that would bind her to my will, but such a process is ponderously slow
and is best left to proceed alone without undue interference.  Now more than
ever I understood my Master's insistence on learning how to culture patience.
     "Duty requires no thanks, Master Healer," Chrystalis replied in a neutral
tone as she slowly stood up.  I could see her stretching slightly out of the
corner of my eye, a sight that I would most likely have found quite appealing
had I been able to look at it directly.
     Aria said nothing as Chrystalis walked past her, heading for the door with
the clear intent of leaving as soon as possible.  I waited until she started to
reach for the handle when I quietly called out to her.  "One final moment of
your time, if you please, Lady Chrystalis."
     She paused and cast a somewhat leery look at me.  Perhaps it was just my
imagination, but I couldn't immediately detect any sense of open hostility or
hatred for me.  I had no illusions that she was starting to like me, but I had
the faintest glimmer of hope that perhaps she was starting to loathe me just a
little bit less.
     "Yes?" she replied in a tone that was both guarded and edged, making me
quickly reconsider my feeling.  Perhaps one day in the future I would consider
turning my hand to weapon-smithing, if only to craft a double-edged sword that
I would name "Hope" as a testament to the bitter cruelty of that emotion.
     "There is one question I should like to ask of you, and an answer would
be deeply appreciated," I said quietly, keeping my tone devoid of any hint of
confrontation.  "I understand your dislike of me because of whom I have chosen
to associate myself with, and I truly do not begrudge you that.  I would like
to know, however, what I have personally done.... what lives I've stolen, what
crimes I've commited, what purity I've defiled, to deserve such blind hatred
from you personally."
     The look I got from Chrystalis was not of hatred or anger, but one filled
with contempt and pity.  "To my knowledge you have killed no one nor committed
any crimes," she said evenly.  "I'm sure someone would have mentioned that to
me by now.  But as for what purity you have defiled.... you have but to look
in a mirror.  If your own purity meant so little to you that you not merely
allowed but actually embraced its corruption, I positively shudder to think of
how you value the purity of the souls of others.  Fair evening," she added,
more to Aria than to me before she opened the door and left the room.
     "She has a point, Aerce," Aria said to me quietly as the weight of the
paladin's words sank into my mind.
     "Perhaps she does," I conceded.  Omen had long ago beat that particular
concept into my mind, but by that time I was already apprenticed to my Master
and was thus beyond a point of no return.  I really didn't regret crossing the
line that I knew would ultimately lead me down a spiral of destruction.  At
least, I don't at this point, even with all the pain and suffering that I have
been exposed to these past few years.
     "Tell me something, Aria," I said quietly as she moved towards the door.
"Am I really that reprehensible in life to deserve such instant hatred from
the followers of the Light?"
     She paused in the doorway, much like Chrystalis had done moments earlier.
"It is not for me to judge how people view other people," she said after a
moment of contemplation.  "Nor is your nature my personal concern.  You are,
at the moment, a patient in need of healing.  That is all that matters to me."
     I tilted my head slightly, surprised by the evasiveness of her answer.
"Then I should like to ask you a hypothetical question, my dear.  Let us assume
for the moment that you would have considered having me as a consort a month
ago," I said, then paused at the expression on her face.
     "Hypothetical indeed," she mused.  "Forgive my interruption," she added.
     "Thank you, Master Healer," I replied with dry sarcasm.  "That being the
hypothetical case, and seeing what changes I have undergone in the span of a
week, what might your feelings be for me at this very moment?"
     I was curious, of course, as to what her answer might be, but I was also
just as curious as to how she would go about framing her reply.  I would have
guessed that she would have spouted some nonsense about love being blind, but
as she has been quite successful in catching me off-guard as of late I was not
about to put yet another surprise past her.
     Aria seemed to pause again as she thought about the question I had posed
to her.  "I don't know," she finally said in a disturbingly soft tone that I
could barely make out.  "That would depend on what I found to be attractive and
desirable in the first place, and just how much of it had been changed from
exposure to the shadow poison.  I would most likely not reject you outright,
but would rather observe from a slight distance for a period of time to see if
it would be in my best interests to reconsider my hypothetical desire."
     I nodded silently at her words.  "Thank you for your honesty, my dear."
     "May I offer some advice, Aerce?" she asked rather unexpectedly.  It was
not often that she made such a request uninvited, as she knew such 'words of
wisdom' were rarely listened to, let alone heeded.  There were times in which
she was proven to be right in the end, however, but that was more of a rare
exception rather than the general rule.
     "If it pleases you," I replied in a slightly distracted tone.  The wobble
I detected earlier in the pull of gravity seemed to be more noticable now, a
concept I found quite disturbing given the fact that I was lying down.  If my
sense of balance has become that unstable when in a prone position, perhaps I
was not doing nearly as well as I had previously imagined.
     "I pray you will forgive me for thinking that I have some insight as to
how you think, given the time we've known one another," she said very slowly,
obviously choosing her words with great care.  "Perhaps I am misreading you
when I see you looking at Chrystalis, but I sense that she interests you in
some way that few other women have before.  It is not for me to approve or to
disapprove of such things, of course, whatever my own feelings might be on the
matter.  Your brief liaison with Noelle, for example," she added with a faint
hint of warning.
     I could feel the icy wave of tension course through my veins for a brief
moment.  I knew that Noelle would eventually discuss the event with someone
else, of course, as few women go through such experiences in life without ever
talking to another woman for social comfort or comparison.  That the story had
reached Aria's ears was not something I would have liked to contemplate, since
what had transpired that night could have qualified as rape, depending on the
point of view taken.  I knew that Aria was more open-minded than most other
followers of the Light, but even her tolerance had its limits.
     "I don't know what you are contemplating in regards to Chrystalis," she
continued in a neutral tone, "But I think you may wish to stop to reconsider
whatever it might be.  She is a woman devoted to her order, one that is not
overly tolerant of those who seem to have fallen from grace.  Whatever you do,
Aerce, I suggest it be with a very soft step if you value your life."
     Her warning was quite unnecessary, as I was already acutely aware of the
dangers posed by merely being in the same room as Chrystalis,  Realizing that
the situation was visible enough to be recognized by others was not an overly
welcome development.  I had no doubts that if Aria could notice something was
happening, then both Omen and Chrystalis were equally as likely to pick up on
the scent.  All things considered, it was not a positive sign.
     The sudden faint buzzing in my head was not a good sign either, as it was
an overt hint that something was quite amiss.  "I am touched by your concern
for my well-being, my dear," I replied quietly, having a surprisingly difficult
time focusing on the words.  "Tell me, if you please, why you haven't said
anything before if you care so much about me?"
     I almost lost the sound of her sigh amid the quiet roaring in my ears.
"There are many ways to care about a person, but you seem only able to see the
bonds of love and lust between people," she said quietly, almost sadly.  "If I
didn't care for your health, I wouldn't have tried to save it.  The roots of
such caring, however, seems to have been lost on you long ago.  You will not
find in me the passion you seek in a woman, despite your attempts to gain my
attention and desires, but I still have ample reason to care.  Do you feel
okay?" she added, almost as an afterthought.
     Her tone struck me as odd, making the dark part of me wonder if something
was amiss by design rather than accident.  "I may have a problem," I conceded,
my words slurring of their own accord on my tongue.  I felt a pervasive tingle
start to run rampant through my body, teasing various nerves with a strange
sensation that was not unpleasant.  The edges of my vision began to blur, and
a sudden suspicion seemed to explode into what was left of my fading mind.
     "You put something in the water," I said quietly as the world started to
slowly rotate around me in a silent cacophony.
     I could barely make out the apologetic nod of her head as she continued
to hover in the doorway.  "You need your rest," she said almost inaudibly.  "I
thought it best to aid you as you tend to resist overt help, even from your
sister.  Please don't fight it, Aerce.  You will need your strength for the
days ahead of you.  I will send someone to check on you at sunrise and change
the bandages if need be.  Sleep well...."
     I would have muttered a curse at her had my lips not decided to cease
cooperation on their own.  It was not often that Aria resorted to deception to
accomplish a goal, which made me wonder what exactly she was trying to do.  I
would have thought more about it, but the sudden whirlwind of darkness was most
pervasive, and unable to resist the lure any further I found myself slipping
once again into the dark abyss of sleep and the chaotic world of dreams.

                *               *               *               *

     The first coherent thing through my mind upon regaining consciousness was
a rather poetic composition, the thoughts of a legendary vampire noble who had
apparently once himself been in my sort of situation.  "From the shards of
tattered dreams I arose, unwillingly.  Tossed upon tides of pain that ebbed and
flowed and left me searingly awake.... and more revoltingly, alive."
     The pain in my chest was truthfully not deserving of the title 'searing',
but it nonetheless made me reconsider the benefits of retaining my grip on the
thread of life.  My body felt like it had been left to rot in the heat of the
noonday sun in a remote desert, although the lack of any sort of light in the
room was quite a saving grace as I reoriented my senses on my surroundings.
     I was still in the small room where I had awakened earlier, which did not
surprise me in the least.  There was no light visible through the window above
me, which meant that the cloak of night had obviously fallen across the land.
However comforting the darkness might have been, I was immediately surrounded
by a sense of unease.  Something was quite clearly amiss, but the exact nature
of which was currently unknown to me.
     As sitting up seemed to be quite out of the question for the moment, I had
to content myself with turning my focus inward to assess my condition.  If I
was to ignore the throbbing pain in my chest and the parched dryness of my nose
and mouth, I would have almost thought I was doing rather well.  The stiffness
of my muscles and joints was quite clearly from remaining essentially immobile
for a period of time.  The severity of it, however, led me to believe that I
had been unconscious for a full day if not longer.
     The memory of Aria's admission of having tainted the water with a sleeping
draught brought a snarl to my lips.  Perhaps it was for a greater good, but I
would quite have preferred to retain as much of my worldly senses as possible
in this environment.  The endless pain in my chest was testament enough to the
fact that I was not as welcomed by some in this convent as by others, and to be
so vulnerable at a time like this was not a thought to cherish.
     My mind suddenly registered motion inside the room, and so I turned my
head to get a better look.  Through the shadowy gloom I could make out an odd
outline scuttling along the ceiling, moving at a slow but steady pace.  It took
me a moment to realize that it was a spider and a rather large one at that,
casually walking upside-down on the ceiling with typical arachnid ease.
     An icy feeling suddenly filled my veins, and it took me a moment to figure
out why.  The spider's size, big as it was, didn't concern me at all as I knew
at a glance that it was not from a harmful species.  It surprised me to learn
that I was able to see it at all, realizing that there should not have been
enough light in the room to allow me to see the spider in such detail as to be
able to recognize its species.  I came to the conclusion that my changed eyes
were responsible for my visual ability, but that quickly became a secondary
concern as I realized that the spider in question was a royal blue color.
     I knew of many normal and natural woodland creatures with odd coloring,
but spiders were definitely not one of them.  I watched with trepidation from
my prone position as the blue spider reached the wall and climbed down, making
a direct line for the window.  Much to my amazement, it pushed the window open
a fraction, just enough for it to slip outside and perch on the outside of the
pane of glass.  It then held out two legs and appeared to wait for something.
     A small electrical shock seemed to course through me as a dark shadow
promptly swept across the window, plucking the spider off of the glass with
relative ease.  It happened so fast that I caught but the barest glimpse of the
fleeting shape, but I would have laid a moderate wager that the creature had
been a large bat.  While I would imagine that some bats would have found a
spider to be quite the tasty treat, I thought it quite implausible that such a
random event of opportunity had just taken place.
     A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I came to the disturbing conclusion that 
both creatures were familiars, minions under the control of a spellcaster.  I
could name several people who would use bats as familiars, but I could only
think of one individual who would deign to use spiders and bats together as a
team.  And if she was in fact close at hand, then things would most likely
become very interesting in extremely short order.
     I closed my eyes as I pondered briefly what I should do, if anything.  A
part of me felt compelled to warn Aria and the rest of the convent that a dark
cloud was about to descend upon them, but the dark part of me wanted to sit
back and observe the fun.  I debated the merits of doing just that before I
remembered that a Holy Knight was currently in residence, one whom might react
quite badly if confronted with a visit from an emissary of Lord Skyblade.  As
amusing as observing such a scene might have been under other circumstances, I
felt that it would be in my best interests to stave off such a reaction, if
only to prevent undue harm from coming to Chrystalis.
     Wounded as I was in body and fatigued as I was in mind, I still had very
solid access to my magical discplines.  While far from being overly strong at
this point in time, my skills could nonetheless be quite potent when properly
applied as circumstances permit.  And at the moment, isolated and undisturbed,
I was in quite desirable circumstances.
     I began to draw on my pool of magical energy, weaving glowing threads of
mana together that could only rarely be physically seen.  Precise words began
to form on my lips, harsh syllables from an eldritch dialect that had no use
as a spoken language but served as a template for the mind, directing thoughts
and crafting the spell's mystic energy into a desired form.  The air began to
shimmer faintly in front of my lips as the magic took shape and I turned my
mind's focus to the image of a person whom I knew would be awake at this hour,
would recognize my voice, and most importantly, would take me seriously.
     <Cera,> I said quietly.  <I sense someone is coming.  Be aware.>
     I could feel the words forming in the depths of my throat, but no sound
emerged past my lips.  Known simply as the Whisper, the cantrip magic gave the
ability to project sound from a distance, making it seem as if the caster was
standing next to the target when speaking.  A simple spell, really, as cantrips
were little more than magically-enchanced theatrics, but the possibilities are
quite endless and usually useful under the proper circumstances.
     I was moderately sure that Cera was at this moment making sure her heart
still worked, as it is quite a shock to hear words unexpectedly coming from
thin air.  I was confident, however, that as captain of the night watch she
would not dismiss my words as a joke.  She and I only knew of each other in
passing, as she was a night person by nature for some inexplicable reason and
usually kept to herself during the midnight watch, but I knew enough about her
devotion to duty to not trifle with her or otherwise disturb her without just
cause.  Where Aria's duty was to heal, Cera's was to protect, and I had no
reason to believe that she would hesitate to use deadly force if needed.
     "Aria warned us to expect this," a low-pitched feminine voice seemed to
emerge from behind me a few moments later, as if the wall itself was speaking.
"Is there any specific threat you are aware of?" she asked calmly.
     I was under the impression that it was rather difficult for clerics to
utilize the Whisper, as their magic came from within the spirit instead of
within the mind as mine does, but it was not unknown for a cleric to send a
reply in kind.  The strain of such a response is usually detectable in the
voice, but in this instance I could sense no such weakness.
     <The Countess,> I said simply, knowing that nothing more needed to be
said.  Reputations were powerful things, able to evoke primal emotions at the
mere mention of a name.  While the thought of a visit from her didn't trigger
as sharp or as fearful a reaction as someone like my Master or Lord Skyblade,
it still was not someting one would wish to actively contemplate.  Unless, of
course, you happened to be on her side....
     "We will keep an eye out for her," Cera's projected voice assured me in
a calm tone.  "Thank you for the warning."
     I could detect no sense of tension or wariness in her voice, which could
be quite unnerving in of itself to most people.  Some have suggested that she
was devoid of a soul, a cold and impersonal automaton of the Light who doesn't
emotionally react to events simply because she was not capable of emotion.  It
was also quietly whispered that Death himself once confronted her directly, and
that she didn't even blink as she calmly told him to get out of her face, grab
a mint for his breath, and return to Hell before she sent him back herself.
Ever the cool professional, Cera was an easy woman to fear.
     The deep but quiet sound of a gong echoed a few seconds later, a warning
signal to the rest of the night watch.  It was not loud enough to disturb the
slumber of the rest of the convent, save perhaps for a very light sleeper, but
it could be heard from both inside and outside the walls.
     With my conscience put at ease knowing that the rest of the denizens of
the convent would not be caught unawares, I began the slow and painful task of
getting out of bed.  The drug Aria had used to put me to sleep earlier had yet
to fully wear off, making every motion take thrice as long as it should have.
The fact that I was still one step removed from the grave slowed my progress
even further, but I had a hunch that time would be on my side for once.
     I had thought the stone floor to be cold before, but the icy shock of my
bare feet against it now made the previous encounter seem mild by comparison.
Granted the winter months were not all that far away, but I thought it would
still be some time before nights would crispen with hints of frost.  Tonight
must have been one of those early harbingers of what lay head, for I caught a
very faint trace of my breath in the air as I moved.
     The distinct chill in the air seemed to awaken my senses as I drew in a
deep breath.  The tightness in my chest served as a keen reminder of my fragile
state of health, while the looseness of the medical robe told me a different
story about my condition.  To be wounded is one thing, but to be practically
naked as well is something else entirely.  A few simple words to the nearest
acolyte would procure something to aid me in coping with the pain, but I would
rather not suffer through the indignity of having to ask a woman if she knew
where my underwear ended up.
     Having visited the convent on numerous occasions, both to see my sister
and to have my wounds tended to, I was somewhat familiar with the layout of
everything.  The laundry room was near the western side of the convent where
the waste-water could be dumped into the trench, and I decided to make that my
first destination.  While a residence of this size necessiated a laundry room
of equal scale, it was my understanding that such work was only performed from
sunrise until sunset and would thus be empty at this hour.
     It seemed half an hour had passed before I finally reached the door, my
unprotected feet already dangerously numb from the low temperatures.  I half-
expected the door to be locked, but was instead pleasantly surprised when it
readily opened without any resistance.  I suppose I wouldn't have objected to
a lock had one been in place, but then it would have begged the question of
whom was truly being protected from whom.
     I eased the door open and peered into the empty gloom of the hallway,
seeing only a single torch at far end of the corridor.  It took me a moment to
realize that I was already in the western portion of the convent, and that the
torch helped light the main central hallway.  There were two main corridors
that ran west-to-east, and I had the suspicion that I was in the first one.
The laundry room was in the second hallway, however, which meant that I had a
fair amount of walking ahead of me.
     Fortunately, there was a series of rush mats that lined the floor that
would insulate my feet against the cold.  I would have to contend with the
roughness of the matting, however, but having been stomped flat by the passage
of countless feet it would not pose much of a hazard.  Unless, of course, I
managed to step on something sharp that was tangled in the weave, but in my
current mood I decided that I would only worry about it should it happen.
     The torch seemed to be impossibly far in the distance but the first door
was barely a dozen steps down the hall and thus much closer in reach, and so I
made that my first goal.  My Master had taught me the value of taking one's
primary objective and breaking it down into a series of smaller objectives to
be followed in succession.  That way, one could easily measure one's progress
and savor each victory in the process.  Whether it was the most satisfying to
celebrate one big accomplishment or a dozen minor ones was a topic that I had
more than a few enlightening discussions with both my Master and his immediate
allies.
     The fogginess in both my mind and my body continued to recede with each
step, the increase in my activity serving to speed up the process of flushing
out the rest of Aria's sleeping draught.  I reached the first door and moved
past it without incident, setting my sights on the next doorway.  My pace was
far slower than I would have liked, barely more than a shuffle, but it was one
I felt I would be able to sustain without pause.
     Upon reaching the second doorway, however, I felt compelled to pause for
a moment.  Not out of shortness of breath or weakness of body, but for the
simple reason that the door I came across had been left slightly ajar.  I knew
that most of the doors in the convent were not locked, as one of the tenets of
Urza's faith was trust in one's fellow acolyte, and only three doors in the
entire building were locked with anything more than a simple wooden bar.  It
seemed to be a requirement to keep one's door closed unless it is actively in
use, however, as I had yet to encounter an unattended open door during any of
my previous visits to the convent.
     More than idly curious, I edged closer to the door and paused to listen,
seeing if I could detect anyone's presence.  Failing to hear anything, I took
another step nearer and pushed it open another inch or two, peering intently
through the open gap.
     Much to my surprise, what lay beyond the door was not a room but a short
hallway of sorts that led to an identical door.  Reviewing my mental map of
the convent, I realized that it was nothing more than a service corridor that
connected the two main hallways together.
     The discovery was a welcome one, as it would spare me more than a little
effort and travel.  I slipped into the hallway without hesitation, quietly
closing the door behind me before making my way towards the other end.  There
were no mats here to insulate me from the floor, providing further incentive
to make my journey a brief one.
     I soon reached the other door, very gently easing it open an inch to try
to listen.  Hearing nothing, I opened the door further and stepped into the
other corridor, breathing a sigh of relief as I encountered another stretch of
rush mats to ease the chill of my feet.  I absently closed the hallway door as
I looked around, trying to get my bearings.
     Perhaps I had finally been due a small measure of fortune, as I spotted
the entrance to the laundry room less than a dozen paces away.  The distance
was crossed as rapidly as my condition permitted, reaching the double doors in
relative silence.  I suppose someone might have overheard my muttered curses
as I stepped off the matting once again, but it would not have been enough to
wake anyone from even the lightest of slumbers.
     The laundry room was empty as expected, much to my relief.  Not that I had
any fears of being chastised for being in here, as I only needed to explain my
reasons for seeking out the most logical place for where my clothing would be,
but I would rather not have to deal with any premature conclusions as to why a
man wearing only a thin robe was sneaking around in a room full of women's
clothing in the still of the night.
     I ignored the racks of hanging robes and other sundry items of obvious
feminine origin and instead directed my focus on the smaller array of rope-like
lines strung along the far wall.  It was there that 'guest' laundry was done,
kept away from the rest of the general linens so there would be no confusion of
ownership, and it was indeed there that I found what I was looking for.  While
the fabric of my underwear was just somewhat cool to the touch, no doubt from
a lingering trace of dampness as it continued to dry, it was nonetheless clean
and suitable for wearing.
     There was a significant truth to the saying that timing is everything.  I
had cast the medical robe aside and had very gingerly balanced myself on one
foot to step into the underwear when I heard a creaking noise behind me, quite
clearly the sound of the door being pushed open by someone.  It was a purely
instinctual reaction for me to freeze in mid-motion, standing stark-naked in
the middle of the room and in a decidedly awkward position.
     "I thought it was you," an obviously female voice spoke up in a fairly dry
but amused manner.  It was a voice I identified at once, and one that brought
a faint smile to my lips out of simple habit.  "I'd recognize that white ass
anywhere, though I'm surprised to see it hanging out in the open like this."
     "I thought you said you didn't care to see it again," I replied without
turning around, resuming my task of getting dressed.  I wasn't worried about
what she might have thought of my exposed backside, as she had long ago become
used to the sight.  Eveline's unique place in my memories wasn't from the fact
that she had been a rather enthusiastic lover for a period of time, but that
she had been the one to approach me instead of the other way around.  Not to
suggest that she was a wanton who kept her robes tied loosely or was overly
aggressive about her sexuality, but rather that she was simply the type who was
not afraid to speak up if something sufficiently attracted her interest or
curiosity.  It only took her a month to decide that I wasn't what she was truly
looking for, but the separation was amicable enough that she didn't mind the
occasional reminder of what was once shared.
     Eveline shrugged as she casually leaned against the open doorway.  "Not in
my bed, at least, but that didn't mean I didn't ever want to see you again,"
she explained.  "So earlier I heard this joke about you, a paladin, and some
stitches, but I forget what the punchline was.  Care to explain it to me?" she
prodded in a somewhat guarded tone.
     "It's simple," I replied dryly as I shifted my weight to allow me to step
into the other half of my underwear.  "Beware holy knights bearing enchanted
swords and righteous attitudes."
     "Idiot," she sighed quietly.
     "I wasn't exactly given the chance to explain my presence before Aria had
her surgical work cut out for her," I responded in a faintly testy tone.  I
knew that the play on words would amuse her slightly, even as it amused me in
a somewhat morbid sense, as she had mentioned that my 'mental agility' was one
of the traits that had initially drawn her attentions.
     "Ouch," Eveline murmured softly.  I couldn't tell where her gaze was with
my back to her, but I was fairly sure it was still lingering on my backside.
Had our relationship not been set aside I would have allowed her to continue to
enjoy the view, but things were starting to chill in the cool air and I was not
in much of a mood to care about idle fantasies at the moment.  A simple tug was
enough to hoist the fabric into its intended position, granting me a small but
still necessary feeling of protection.  Not that my underwear could protect me
from anything more dangerous than a curious look or a casual breeze, but the
psychology of it all wasn't something that could easily be dismissed.
     "Noelle said that you didn't look too well," she spoke up in what for her
was an unusually subdued tone as I moved further down the clothesline to reach
for my tunic.  "I tried to ask her what she meant, but she seemed to be having
another case of skittish nerves tonight and wouldn't speak to me."
     Her words made me pause again, this time with my arms stretched out as I
sought to put them into the sleeves.  "Really now," I said with deliberate
slowness as I carefully resumed my task.  The stretching motions were putting
more than a little strain on my chest, threatening to rekindle the fiery pain
that I had largely been able to ignore up until now.  "Why do I sense that our
half-Elven acolyte wasn't talking about my chest being sliced open?"
     "Aerce, just tell me what happened to you," she said quietly, her tone
laced with an undercurrent of worry that I found to be quite surprising.  She
had left me with no illusions as to the exact depths of her feelings when she
had stated she no longer wished to be intimate with me, a parting not too far
from the likes of 'so long and thanks for all the memories,' but there was a
degree of emotion to her voice that I found unnerving all the same.
     "Come see for yourself if you truly wish," I said to her over my shoulder,
still not deigning to look at her just yet.  I realized that I wasn't looking
forward to seeing her reaction to my changed visage, which in itself made me
feel more than a little unsettled with my new situation.  Perhaps I had indeed
been corrupted by my apprenticeship, enough so that it was able to take on a
physical aura and thus be visible for all to see.  While the notion of being
tainted didn't bother me too much at this point, what concerned me more was the
change in 'people skills' that such an alteration would require if I was to
avoid being instantly villifed by those ignorant of my true situation.  And as
the throbbing of my chest reminded me of my initial encounter with Chrystalis,
it was obvious that I had a lot of work ahead of me in that regard.
     "I should like to warn you, however," I added as I heard the faintest of
footsteps approaching me from behind, causing them to briefly halt, "I doubt
you will like what you see."
     "Show me," she asked quietly as she approached me and touched my elbow.
     I sighed softly and turned around, not bothering to button the tunic.  I
figured that she would wish to see the wound for herself, being almost a fully-
trained Healer in her own right and one who was concerned for a former lover,
if not a friend.  Her gaze indeed fell on my chest for a brief instant, the
edges of her lips tugging downward before she glanced up to look me in the eye.
     Had it been a deliberate act on my part, attempting to induce horror or
fear in her for some dark purpose, I would have been delighted with the amount
of success resulting from her instinctive reaction.  However, as it was hardly
my intention to frighten her as such, the look on her face as she reacted to my
visage was not exactly something to be savored.  Instead, I found it to be....
something that I would have rather avoided, or at least at first.
     As with Omen, Eveline's breath suddenly caught in her throat in a soft
gasp of shock, her dark eyes widening of their own accord.  Her hand all but
flew off my elbow and raced towards her mouth, pausing at the last instant to
leave only a pair of fingertips brushing against her tender lips.  Those same
lips were now parted just slightly, her jaw falling open just enough to reveal
the very edges of her teeth.
     "I warned you," I breathed in a very soft whisper once the shock had worn
off to the point where she could blink her eyes and breathe once more.
     "You fool, what have you done?" she whispered back, her voice seeming to
rasp slightly in her throat.
     A faint smirk brushed the edges of my mouth as I began to button my tunic
from the bottom on up.  "Ingested a small measure of shadow poison, it seems,"
I said dryly.  "It seems to have largely run its course, though it will be a
few days before I can be absolutely certain it won't try to finish the job that
Lady Chrystalis started yesterday.  At least I think it was yesterday," I added
with genuine uncertainty as I briefly paused my task.  "Time seems to have
become rather fuzzy as of late."
     She reached out to grab my hands just as I was about to button my tunic
over the bandages.  The gesture seemed to be an unconscious one, appearing to
take her by surprise before she blinked and looked down at my chest.  She then
sighed heavily and slowly shook her head to herself, and for a moment I thought
that she might have been trying to fight off a solitary tear.
     "You fool," she repeated quietly as she sighed heavily again.  "Hold still
for a moment, I want to see what other trouble you've gotten into this time,"
she said as she very carefully peeled back the edge of the bandage to expose
both the wound and the stitching hold it together.  "Oh, for the love of Erza,"
she moaned softly in resignation once the damage became visible.
     "Like I said," I murmured as I remained perfectly still while she studied
both Chrystalis' and Aria's handiwork, "I wasn't exactly given the chance to
explain anything before being attacked.  And her sword is apparently enchanted
to prevent magical aid from being rendered, so don't try to blame me for being
'foolish' this time."
     Eveline continued to study the wound for a few moments before edging back
and carefully returning the adhesive bandage to its original position.  She
kept her gaze on my chest as I finished buttoning my tunic shut, not seeming to
be willing to look me in the eye anymore.  I suppose I really shouldn't blame
her for it, but for one who previously didn't hesitate to look me in the eye
and share her thoughts with me, it was still something to carefully ponder.
     "So now what?" she finally said as the silence weighed heavily between us.
     "So now I go put my pants on," I replied dryly as I turned away from her
to do just that.  The dark fabric was still faintly cool to the touch as my
underwear had been, but I suspected that was more to the somewhat low ambient
air temperature in the room rather than any lingering moisture from having been
washed earlier.
     "You know what I mean," she grumped quietly, looking down at the floor.
     I shrugged to myself as I began to step into the rest of my clothes.  "No
doubt that my Master will wish to speak to me, if only to see if I still have
a pulse, and that an envoy will be dispatched soon to find me.  Assuming that
one hasn't been dispatched already," I added.  "I have reason to believe that
the Countess will be arriving here in rather short order."
     "What?" Eveline said, blinking hard as she glanced up at me.  She then
cast a very uneasy look at the open door and the hallway beyond, clearly not
comfortable with the notion of such a scenario taking place.  "Is that why the
guards went on alert a few minutes ago?"
     "Let's just say that I put a quiet Whisper into Cera's ear," I replied,
huffing just slightly as I hoisted my pants up and secured the fastenings.  "If
the Countess does indeed pay us a visit, I truly don't expect there to be any
sort of unpleasantness.  Or at least not on her part," I amended.  "Part of the
reason I warned Cera was so that there wouldn't be any bad reactions that could
be blamed on the surprise factor."
     "Wonderful," she sighed as she looked up at the ceiling for a few moments.
She then took a deep breath, one sufficient enough to expand her chest in a
most inviting fashion, and turned to look squarely at me.  Her breath was again
driven from her lungs as she studied me, only this time in a much more casual
and controlled process, hissing gently like steam escaping a boiling kettle.
     "Something on your mind, Eve?" I murmured quietly as I glanced around in
an attempt to locate my boots.
     "Your eyes," she said simply, her tone sounding more than a little sullen.
     "It is a unique look, don't you agree?" I observed as I finally found them
tucked away in a small cabinet where several other pairs of boots were stored.
     "What a waste," she replied, her tone shifting to one of weariness.
     "How so?" I prodded.
     She seemed to hesitate before she sighed softly and glanced away.  "They
were part of the reason I liked you so much," she murmured quietly.
     "Or why you liked looking into them as we made love those quiet nights?"
I inquired gently as a certain piece finally fell into place in an all-but-
forgotten puzzle.  The experience had been unique to say the least, and even
after I found other women for a little noctural entertainment I continued to
savor looking into their eyes as they were carefully brought to the peak of
pleasure, able to almost literally see the surge of pleasure impulses flooding
the nerves in their eyes at that almost divine moment.
     The faintest of blushes tinted her cheeks at the memories.  "They aren't
called 'windows into the soul' just so bards can sound poetical," she replied.
She then sighed again and glanced over at me.  "But it works a lot better when
you can actually see into their eyes without feeling like you're staring into
the face of...."
     "Of what?" I prodded her gently as she fell silent.  It was rare for her
to leave a thought unfinished, and while I could take a guess at what she was
trying to say, part of me wished to hear it spoken aloud where it couldn't be
taken back or otherwise left in doubt.
     "The face of a Dark One," she finally said quietly, almost sadly.  "Or at
least one who will become one."
     There wasn't much I could say at that point that would be of any comfort
to her, as we both knew that she was right.  While I doubted I would ever be a
true 'Dark One' like my Master and Lord Skyblade, there was no use in denying
that the path I was on did not stray very far from their footsteps.  Even so,
I knew that all that I wanted was the power to blaze my own path in life, even
if it meant having to sacrifice much for my goal to be achieved.  Or, it seems,
having to forsake the warmth of those who were once close to me.
     I finished stepping into the boots and tugged the wrinkles out of my pants
and tunic, knowing that I was finished here.  Both my cloak and satchel were of
a magical origin that was clearly detectable by anyone with even the slightest
sensitivity to such auras, and thus were likely to have been taken down to the
underground vault for safe-keeping.  Whether that was to keep prying hands out
or keep certain magical auras contained inside was a genuine mystery to me, but
I had been asked to store them there enough times to know how the process was
handled.  A few simple words to the clerk would procure them for me with only
a minimum of hassle, even at this late hour, but I decided it was best to wait
until I was ready to depart the convent.  After all, if word of my changed eyes
had spread as it seemed to have, most of the acolytes would be edgy enough with
my simple presence, and their precious healing deity alone knew how poorly they
would react if they knew I was not only walking about but fully armed with my
arsenal of magical spells as well.
     Patting myself down to make sure everything was properly placed was an
automatic gesture.  Missing of course were my cloak and satchel, but so too was
the belt which carried my dagger and a few tiny pouches.  That did not concern
me greatly, as I suspected that my weapon had been bundled up with the rest of
my gear for storage purposes.  Something else continued to nag the back of my
mind, however, and it took me a few moment to realize that the horizontal slice
in my tunic had been repaired.  A quick examination revealed no signs of new
seams or other threads being used, suggesting that a simple mending spell had
been employed.
     "That was nice of them," I said aloud to the room in general as I gently
tugged at the fabric that had been not just sliced open but soaked in my blood
as well earlier.  "A pity they couldn't mend my flesh as easily as my shirt,
but we don't always get everything that we wish for, now do we?"
     "Tell me that's not a recent conclusion," she replied dryly, still giving
me a somewhat disheartened look.
     "Do you seriously have to ask?" I teased her gently, unable to help the
faint smile that brushed the corners of my lips.  I took a step forward towards
her, one hand coming up to caress the smooth lines of her cheek as I had often
done in the past.
     She seemed to be startled by the attempted gesture and edged back, just
enough to prevent my hand from brushing against her skin.  We both paused and
looked at one another at the realization of what it truly meant.  I left my
hand in the air for a moment longer than was necessary before lowering it to my
side, not bothering to say anything at her unconscious rejection of my touch.
     "Aerce...." she started to say before falling silent, the normally smooth
lines of her face taking on the distinct creases of one who was no longer happy
with life as it stood at that precise moment in time.  We both understood that
there had been a divide between us, one that resulted in her quiet confession
that final night we laid together and subsequent parting of ways, but now that
divide had become a chasm not unlike the one between myself and Aria.  It could
be talked across, but reaching out over it was no longer an option.
     One sip, I found myself thinking as I looked at her in silence, one small
taste of poison, one hard swallow of liquid fire, and thus the world is remade
anew.  Not reshaped from without as armies have done with brute force, not as
kings and leaders have done with charisma, and not as seers and prophets have
done through the collective will of the soul, but from within my own body and
within my own soul.  Perhaps Aria was right, that there was indeed no hope for
me anymore, but as she herself often said what is done is done.
     I was drawn out of my thoughts by the low but solid sound of a heavy bell
being rung in a steady sequence.  Unlike the warning gong, which was soft but
still audible if you were paying attention, the watchtower alarm bell was set
at just the right pitch to vibrate through the walls and into the dreams of all
but the near-dead, ensuring that anyone who was in a condition to be up and
able to respond would thus be encouraged to do just that.
     "Oh, god...." Eveline sighed, her face becoming dangerously pale as she
realized why the alarm was being sounded.
     I merely shrugged my shoulders.  "Sometimes, I hate being right," I said
in a somewhat resigned tone.  I had honestly hoped that things wouldn't have
happened this quickly, that I would be given at least a little time in which to
rest and try to heal, but at the same time I could see why my Master would be
more than a little eager to see how my 'final test' had ultimately played out.
     "Thanks for the warning," Cera's voice suddenly said, seeming to come from
one of the robes off to my left.  Both Eveline and I jumped slightly at the
unexpected message, the usual reaction of surprise when someone employed the
Whisper without any sort of forewarning.  "You may wish to come out here if you
are able to do so."
     I briefly considered casting the cantrip spell in order to reply to her,
but decided that she had enough to be concerned about without being distracted
by my voice breathing softly in her ear.  Not that I ever contemplated doing
so, as she was one of several women at the convent of whom the mere thought of
being intimate with quite literally never crossed my mind.  While she wasn't
hard on the eyes, there was just something about her that simply said that she
was not the kind to be toyed with in any way, shape, or form.  Or at least not
if you had even the slightest desire to live to see the following sunrise....
     I had barely taken a single step towards the door when I felt Eveline's
hand on my elbow, a touch solid enough to be noticed but not firm enough to
truly deter me if I didn't wish to be stopped.  "I take it you're going to play
the fool again and try to go out there?" she inquired in a wary tone.
     "The Countess has come for me, not anyone else," I replied quietly as I
very gently tugged my elbow free from her grasp.  "The distance between here
and Lord Skyblade's keep is enough to cost even a swift traveller such as the
Countess a full day of her time to traverse, and so it becomes a distance she
crosses only when she has good reason to do so."  I paused for a brief moment
before giving her a faintly amused look and adding, "I would be a fool not to
seek an equally swift audience with such a messenger."
     "I suppose," she allowed with a quiet sigh.  "So how well can you walk?"
     "Slowly," I admitted with a sigh of my own as I began to head towards the
door once again.  "But that is for a lack of strength at the moment rather than
for a lack of mobility.  Even the faintest of brushes with Death can leave one
numb from the experience," I reminded her gently.
     "Fool," Eveline sighed again as she took a quick step forward to take hold
of my elbow once again.  "Here, hold still."
     I paused as she began a soft incantation, the words of her prayer to the
healing deity Erza flowing off of her tongue in a gentle cascade of lilting
syllables.  As with Omen's clerical spells, Eveline's fingernails began to glow
a soft shade of white as the spell took form, slowly spreading across my arm
and infusing me with a most curious warmth.  While I was intimately acquainted
with most of my sister's healing prayers, the spell that my former lover was
casting was quite new to me.  Her voice wasn't nearly as alluring as Noelle's
could be, even when augmented by the enchanting effects of weaving a divine
spell, but it was still more than worth listening to.
     The final few syllables I heard were easily identified, being the ritual
closing to such divine petitions, and as the last one fell from her soft lips
I felt a drastic increase in the energy flowing through my arm.  In an instant
it flooded my veins, coursing throughout my body to induce a rather delightful
sensation in my muscles.  My breath left my body in a sigh of amazement as I
felt a renewed strength fill me, dispelling the weakness in not just my limbs
but in my chest as well.  I could still feel the throbbing pain of my stitched
wound as I breathed deeply and stressed the bandages, but even that had been
reduced from white-hot agony to a mere red cinder of scorching heat and fire.
     "There," Eveline said quietly as she released her hold on my elbow and
took a subdued step back, seeming to be somewhat fatigued by her efforts.
     "Eve?" I murmured softly as I turned to look at her, not bothering to mask
the incredulous look that was etched on my face.  "What did you just do?"
     "Some call it the White Wind," the Healer replied.  "It is often used to
restore lost strength and renew the body after times of duress, though at a
minor cost to the one who calls upon it."
     I paused to look down at myself, flexing my arms and bending my knees for
a few brief moments.  Had my chest not still ached I would have thought that I
had not been wounded at all, able to command my body to move just as easily as
before I had been given a taste of Chrystalis' enchanted blade.  "That it did,"
I observed as I looked back up at her.  "I must admit that this is the first
I've heard of such a spell being used or otherwise being made available to your
Order's clerics and healers.  I would almost think that you had been holding
out on me," I added in a quiet purr that I knew she would not object to hearing
this one final time.
     The faintest of twinkles appeared in her eye an instant before she turned
away from me.  "What can I say," she murmured softly in response.  "You never
had any problems keeping up with me earlier or otherwise appeared to need such
magical aid."
     "Eveline," I purred quietly, unable to help the faint smile that tugged at
my lips.  While I'm sure her ego-stroking wasn't intentional, her sentiment was
an honest one nonetheless and thus something to be truly savored.  While there
was much I could attribute to the teachings of my Master, either directly or
otherwise, there was precious little in this that he could lay claim to.  The
taste of satisfaction is a sweet delight indeed, but sweeter still is the taste
of a conquest and triumph of achievement that is yours and yours alone.
     "Get going, you fool," she sighed as she made a gesture.  "Just try not to
get yourself injured again this time."
     "Assuredly," I said dryly, reaching out to squeeze her arm for a moment
before turning away.  Even as I shifted my focus towards the door and what lay
ahead of me in the immediate future, I was still able to catch the briefest of
glimpses of the expression on her face out of the corner of my eye.  I couldn't
say for sure what the true cause was, and perhaps I would never find out for
sure, but she seemed to recoil unconsciously from me once again as I squeezed
her arm in gratitude for both the magical aid and her commentary.
     Were the situation not so potentially dire I might have stopped to ask her
about her feelings, as delicate a task that might have been.  Surely there was
some reason that a former lover, even one as slightly distant as we had become
as of late, would shy away from me all of a sudden and not simply because of a
change in eye-color.  Had I the time, I would have sought to quantify or at
least discern the motivation behind her actions, if only so as to glean a sort
of understanding of what else lay ahead of me and possibly understand why.
     The door to the laundry room was closed behind me after I left, and my
stride would not have faltered had it not been for the quiet sound of a wooden
brace being placed over the door handles inside.  I paused for a moment as I
realized that Eveline had just locked herself in the laundry room, a rather
unusual step for a follower of Erza to take if she simply wished for solitude
and privacy.  Again the thought leapt to my mind that, if I felt that I had the
time in which to do so, I would have retraced my steps and sought to find an
answer as to why.  Why would she lock herself inside after parting ways.... or
was she attempting to lock me out?  Not that a mere wooden brace would bar me
if I was determined enough to employ magic to force my way inside, but it is,
as they way, the thought that counts.
     So the divide has become a chasm, I found myself thinking as I strode down
the hallway towards the main north-south corridor.  Why is that, my beautiful
Healer?  Though it became less welcomed than it once was, you never shied from
my touch before.  Why now?  Have I truly changed that much?  Or was there now
far more to the dark changes in my body than meets the eye?
     A poet's words came to mind as I continued to walk, written down ages ago
in a book that the Countess once let me read.  Though the story had been a long
one, there was much to be learned from such a tragic tale if you not only paid
attention but knew how it applied to you as well.  "Had I but time.... as this
fell Sergeant, Death is strict in his arrest.... O, I could tell you.... But
let it be."

                *               *               *               *

     A good two dozen of the convent's acolytes were clustered together around
the entrance as I approached, all nervously watching out through the open door
and windows at what lay beyond in the courtyard.  I would not have paid too
close attention to them had I not seen that at least three of them were armed
with their sanctified longswords from the underground vault, blessed weapons
that the more militant members of the Church of Erza trained with to use as
both sword and shield.  While normally that would not have unduly disturbed me
either, recent events had left me with a vastly increased desire to err on the
side of caution.
     "Ladies," I spoke up in a gentle tone as I drew close, seeking to avoid
catching them off-guard.  It proved to be a wise precaution, as no less than
half of them whirled around in haste at the sound of my voice.  The sudden
intake of shocked breath from those who saw me was enough to garner the full
attention of the others, likewise inducing them to quickly see what was behind
them and determine the level of immediate danger.
     "My God...." one of them whispered as they all stared at me with varying
degrees of shock and horror.  As with Eveline's reaction I was left feeling
more than a little discomforted, and not just because it appeared to all but
eliminate my already meager chances of seducing some of them at a future date.
Awhile ago I had once amused myself by mentioning in casual conversation names
like that of my Master or Lord Skyblade, merely to see what sort of reaction I
could elicit.  Almost universally it had resulted in some form of dread, and in
some cases even horror among those whose sensibilities were perhaps a little
more delicate than that of their fellow acolyte sisters.  Finding myself to be
the recipient of that very same sort of reaction was far from amusing, however,
souring my stomach in a way that had very little to do with anything that I
might have been fed in the past day.
     "Not quite," I replied, still able to muster a reflexive reply of dry
sarcasm.  "I see the swords are out tonight," I added as I pointedly glanced
at the nearest blade, making note of the fact that it was now being held in a
white-knuckled grip by its wielder.  "Am I to presume that blood will be shed
this evening, having blades drawn from their sheathes to stand at the ready?"
     "If blood is to be shed," one of the wielders replied, a lovely maiden by
the name of Vanessa, "It shall not be our own.  We stand with the Light, and
the Light will stand with us tonight until Dawn resumes her patrol once more."
     Typical words of righteousness from those who walk in the Light.  I would
have rolled my eyes had the situation not been so tense, as it is generally not
a healthy idea to mock one who was holding a weapon when you were not.  Still,
even a militant cleric such as Vanessa was unlikely to lift her sword against
me absent a very clear and justifiable cause, but seeing the look on her face
after catching a glimpse of my own visage was enough to make me wary of her
current level of will and discipline.  Even if she was not cut from the same
bolt of cloth as Chrystalis, I would still have to tread carefully around her.
     "No doubt that you are, my lady," I said softly, giving her a smile that
under other circumstances might have had some positive influence on her mood,
however minor it would be.  "I will admit that the situation is perhaps a bit
darker than even I had expected, and one should always be prudent by erring on
the side of caution.  Do any of you have word as to what lies outside?"
     I didn't fail to notice how they all drew back half a pace when I spoke of
things being darker than I expected, yet another subtle indication that things
had indeed taken a change for the worse.  None in the group had ever openly
embraced my presence, though one had done so in private after much wooing and
charming on my part, and thus it didn't surprise me when they failed to greet
my arrival with anything warmer than indifference.  That I had yet to even be
given that much by them was likewise disturbing, as it suggested that even the
famed tolerance of the followers of the Light was waning when it came to my
presence in their midst.
     "You tell us," one of the other acolytes muttered in a low tone, drawing
uneasy looks from her associates.  "Aria warned everyone that there could be
trouble tonight, though she didn't say what kind."
     I nodded my head slightly, not having truly expected them to be aware of
anything of true significance.  "Fair enough, my dear.  Speaking of our beloved
Master Healer, where is she?  I should like to speak with her."
     "Outside," Vanessa said simply, never once taking her eyes off me or her
hands off the hilt of her sword.
     I paused to regard her carefully, not entirely certain if that had been a
response of information or a command she wished for me to obey.  I could almost
physically feel the change in their mood with each passing second, a feeling of
increasing unease the longer I remained among them.  While it didn't bother me
that they cared little if anything at all for my company, I was beginning to
realize that there was an undercurrent of tension among the convent's denizens
that didn't previously exist to this palpatable of a degree.  Lukewarm looks of
indifference I was used to, but that I had attributed to casual resentment of
the presence of a man in their all-female domain.
     As an experiment I simply nodded in reply to Vanessa's curt statement and
began to move forward towards the door that lay beyond them.  I had expected a
path to be opened up, of course, a simple shuffling of bodies to clear the way.
What I didn't expect was the almost violent intensity at which they did so, all
but leaping aside so as not to be forced to be any closer to me that could be
helped.  While I certainly didn't mind having people make way for me, I found
the reaction to be disturbing in several ways.
     I took three steps forward before pausing, turning my head to one side to
get a better look at the expression on the acolyte nearest to me.  Amber was
her name, one of the few clerics who had initially been curious about me when
Omen and I had first arrived at the convent.  Her interest had quickly waned
after word of my apprenticeship had spread, however, and now it was rare that
our paths crossed for longer than a few seconds before she found something else
to do in another location.
     "Are you alright, Amber?" I murmured, trying to speak calmly and not make
any sudden moves.  Granted she was far less skittish than Noelle was, but I was
not about to take any chances with the current mood being what it was.
     It seemed to take her a moment to respond, as if she had to actually stop
and ask herself if she was indeed alright.  "I am," she finally spoke up, her
lower lip trembling ever so briefly as she spoke.  Her gaze seemed to meet mine
for the briefest of instants before she averted her eyes, clearly uncomfortable
with my focus of attention.
     "Are you sure?" I prodded gently.  "You seem uneasy."
     "Leave her alone," Vanessa spoke up, causing me to glance over at her.
While she didn't raise her voice or otherwise color her tone, I still got the
impression that I was being threatened.  Perhaps it was because she had yet to
relax her grip on her weapon for an instant, the skin of her knuckles seeming
to be bleached as white as sun-dried bones.
     I knew I shouldn't have responded to her implied challenge given my still-
wounded condition, but perhaps Eveline's spell had restored not just a feeling
of strength and health but arrogance as well.  "And what of you, my dear?" I
replied calmly, still having enough presence of mind to not raise my voice or
appear to be confronting her.  "You seem to be uneasy as well all of a sudden.
Surely there is more to it than a simple alarm from the night-watch."
     "This convent is a bastion of Light," Vanessa replied in a low tone, her
words drawing looks of unease from the rest of the group.  "Just because Aria
tolerates your presence here doesn't mean the rest of us do."
     "Vanessa," one of her fellow maiden-in-arms murmured in a worried tone as
she nervously readjusted her grip on her longsword, "Don't.  We have enough to
worry about as it is.  He won't do anything to us."
     "I know he won't," Vanessa retorted in a glacial tone, casting a poisonous
glance at me before briefly glaring at the one who had spoken.  "It is those
who he calls his allies that concerns me.  Such as the one who stands outside
the gate as we speak," she added as she refocused her cold gaze on me.
     The warning behind her words was as clear as the skies on a cloudless day,
not that it was truly needed.  For all my less-than-pure thoughts of what could
be done with them should they be willing, or even if they weren't, my desires
for them did not include anything approaching their collective demise or other
malady.  Her concern regarding my 'allies' was quite valid, however, as I knew
that Lord Skyblade still wished to see this pocket of sanctified land excised
from his domain.  I did not dwell on the matter too much, as there was very
little I could do to influence his lordship in that regard.  I suppose Omen's
presence in the convent served to stay his hand, though I believe that he was
far more restrained by the will of my Master than by any absent concerns he may
have over how I would react to word of my sister's death at his command.
     "Vanessa?" I found myself saying before my brain could resume full control
over my tongue.  "If you feel that I would bring harm to you or any who dwell
here, then have the intestinal fortitude to strike me down here and now so that
you may spare everyone the future effort.  Otherwise, cease growling at me like
a cur and casting my name in the mud to tarnish me in the eyes of others."
     Much like a cat encountering something unsavory, she promptly bristled at
my admittedly harsh words and became quite tense.  For a moment she seemed to
be giving serious thought to doing just as I suggested by putting me out of
everyone's misery.  A number of startled gasps could also be heard from around
us, no doubt shocked by the boldness and directness of my words.  Granted I
usually tried to keep a soft tongue about me when visiting the convent so as
not to offend my hosts, willing or unwilling as they might view their role, but
I was coming to the conclusion that such disarming and coy charm was now all
but doomed to fail.  A pity, really, as I was quite fond of flirting with some
of them, but I was not about to waste my time or my breath on something that I
knew would never bear fruit.
     Perhaps she would have swung her sword up and attempted to finish what
Chrystalis had started earlier, a story that I didn't doubt had been fully
circulated among the convent's population by now.  In any case, whatever she
might have done would forever remain in the realm of speculation as her fellow
maiden-of-arms spoke up once more to deter her.
     "Vanessa!" she said sharply, her voice comprised of equal measures of
force of will and fright.  The voulme of the lone word was low but it still
pierced the mind nonetheless with surprising efficiency, conveying both a loud
warning and a softer plea at the same time.
     Vanessa stared hard at me in silence before relaxing the grip of her blade
ever so slightly and taking a single step back, her breath very quietly heaving
in her white-robed chest.  I felt the faintest of breezes around me an instant
later, almost as if a dozen held breaths had been quietly released in the same
moment as a single entity.  To say that the situation remained tense was quite
an understatement, but at least one edge of the immediate threat to my person
had been blunted.  For the moment.
     A heavy creaking sound arose from the courtyard, momentarily distracting
us from one another and drawing our attention to what lay outside.  The large
armored gates, usually kept shut and patrolled between sunset and sunrise, were
in the process of being opened.  A lone knight stood in the forefront of the
gates with a sword in hand, just far enough back to avoid being crushed by the
opening doors.  While I couldn't identify her at this distance with her back to
me like that, I would not have cared to place a wager against the odds that it
was anyone other than Cera, the captain of the night guard.
     As if her mind had reached out and brushed against my own, she turned to
one side to cast a glance at the doorway where I and the others stood in uneasy
silence.  A simple glance confirmed my suspicions that it was indeed the stolid
knight of Erza, her eyes flitting from one window to the next until they landed
on me.  The distance between us was too great for me to say for certain, but I
thought I might have saw her blink once in surprise before she beckoned to me
with her free hand.  It was a simple gesture, a flexing of two of her fingers
and the slightest movement of her chin before she turned back to face the dark
pool of shadows that had formed between the still-opening gates.
     In another time and place and absent the motions of her hand, I might have
considered the gesture to be a subtle 'come hither' look of interest.  That I
saw only the barest suggestion of emotion in her eyes at all convinced me that
it was little more than a wild fantasy on my part.  That the momentary glimpse
of emotion I did see was one of surprise rather than anything else was simply
yet another indication that showing her anything other than genuine respect and
due obedience to what she asked of you was not a healthy idea to contemplate.



To be continued.... (maybe)
Last Edit: 11 January 2006
Edit Points: 2057 - 2345