The Dark Crystal (Anyone)

Beautiful...

Why, why did I have to hear that again? That insignificant word sharply brought back the tiny moment I had with Khaz, that time when I had thought for just a fleeting moment that everything might be alright. That maybe I was something more than--

Ah, but what did it matter now? Heaven only knew what Khaz would think if he saw me as I was now. Entirely unstable, unsure of my own body, cooperating with a demon who contorted even the fowl drow... I did not even know what to make of myself. Such doubt I could only escape with the dogged determination to become stronger, to tune everything else out as I focused on controlling these new, strange energies pulsing through me. It was all I could do now, the only hope I had for saving three people I knew so little about. They were tainted with darkness, capable of great destruction, but I felt a most irrational desire to help them. There was something about them, about the way that Khaz had cried so piteously in the darkness, the look in Rontu's eyes at the mention of Leita, Ren's anger in being contained... it was all just so... human.

Yes, even in their darkness, they were good people, like those of Bren. Even in suffering, they found strength, even in darkness, they found light. In error, they found correction, a way to adapt to a world that was endlessly kind and cruel. Like the people of Bren, they were at fault in so many ways, sometimes repulsive and impossible to understand. I could not liken myself to them, nor could I belong in their company, for we were too different, for I... I was...

But that would not stop me. It did not matter that they did not trust me, that they thought me weak. There was goodness in them, a will to live, a desire to find that which was lost, and it was that which I desired to preserve. People like them ought to have a chance, an opportunity to be with those that they loved, to be happy, as man was meant to be. If a creature like me could give them that, then it was worth the pain I felt, the fear and doubt I now held as I worked with Omentus to understand my abilities.

He wanted me to focus. Despite the strange magic Omentus was performing not more than a few feet away, I managed to do as he asked, focusing my energy on the flat surface before me. Instead of trying to draw completely on my flame as I had before, I began pulling at the new energy within me, the soft tingling that flowed just beneath my skin.I had no idea what to expect, but what happened next was most certainly not any flame power I was familiar with.

As I channeled my energy into my hands, which ought to have summoned my flame, I felt a strange tingling in my arms and fingers. There was not even light of any sort, but I suddenly became vividly aware of the foilage covering the windows. I felt, rather than saw their reaction as my energy was released, causing a strange slithering sound to resonate throughout the room as they sprang to life. There were even tiny pops and cracks as vines and leaves slowly reached from the windows with spider-like tendrils. As my attention was still focused soley on the table, the plants began to craw towards it, their leaves and stems reaching out like an ever growing arm. The smell coming off of the blossoming plants filled the air with fresh and warm scents, some even sprounting fruits.

This strange happening did not scare me quite as much as it ought to have. Feeling the plants grow was a rewarding sensation, if somewhat draining. As they stretched, I, too, felt like I was streching, reaching for something I could not quite touch with my hands. When I moved my hands, pointing directly to the table, I found that the vines wound more purposefully towards it, as if the physical commad itself could channel the energy. While I did not feel particularly keen on making them move faster, I had the distinct impression that I could very well do so if I focused on the task, as I had my flame. In a very literal way, it seemed that my power over flame had been swapped for power over plants.

The plants stopped when I did. As soon as I felt Omentus' gaze on me again, I withdrew the energy, forcing it back inside of myself. The surrounding vines shuddered gently, as if disturbed by the sudden withdrawl, but they remained where they were, cluttering the floor with vines and leaves of various shapes and sizes. It seemed that the only thing they did share in common was the direction they had grown: straight towards the table.

I... did not know what to make of all of this. The ability itself had taken little thought to accomplish, but like my wings, I was too shocked by the strangeness of it all that I hardly felt anything. I simply stared at the table, which now had flowers popping up over the side, numbly waiting for Omentus to tell me what it was that I ought to do next.

OoC: Sorry if this is a little awkward. It is the first time I've ever written Leonna using this X.X

The apothecary looked over Leonna slowly at first. She seemed to be focusing, but unaware of where she was directing her ability. It was either that or she'd pressed the ability so much that its effect had spread into the surrounding area. His eyes lingered over to the vines that were growing across the floor, toward the table. "Interesting," he commented. "Most of these vines are not of my own breeding. It would appear that your dominion over plants has the ability to make even seeds grow as if under the influence of healthy growth over several seasons. And obviously, that you have traded your power over fire for the ability to cause growth in plants." His eyes shifted about, and he began to lose himself to the haze of thought that normally lingered about him. Almost mumbling, he mused, "The Wikunthu Tribe would regard her as a spirit goddess already... what other abilities has she gained?"

Omentus spoke to himself a little further on the subject, and seemed to disconnect from the world around him. At about the same time that the loss of his company looked terminal, he suddenly snapped back out of his haze. He looked at Leonna again, but his expression was emotionless. "Thank you," he said. "From this point forward, I am going to be asking you to do things that should otherwise be normal to you, but the changes might be more disconcerting than before. Nonetheless, I need you to stay focused on the task of exploring your new abilities." He began to tinker with the device in his hands again. He propped it up on the counter and worked at it with new tools, and beside him the materials continued to whirl about slowly and take on new shapes. Many of the pieces had come together by this point, but their overall design was still elusive. In ways, it resembled a wand.

Omentus stopped working for a moment. He looked back at Leonna, half-opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He narrowed his eyes at her instead, and fiddled slowly with the device with his left hand. He bit his bottom lip gently as he thought.


Anja. She was running barefoot through their home, in her favorite blue dress, with her light blond curls bouncing in her face. He watched her as he hung his snowy cloak on the wooden peg near the door. He slipped off his boots and took a step inside, closing the door behind him. He smiled widely, and at that moment the very longest day in all the world would have meant nothing to him. His daughter ran to him, smiling up at him as he knelt down and lifted her onto his knee. They were not wealthy, but they were happy. "I missed you, papa," she said.

"I missed you, too," he told her.


Omentus blinked, shaking his head. He looked over Leonna again, then looked away. It's worth it, he thought to himself. Yet somehow, he could not so easily recover from the secret memory. She looked so real, just then. He frowned, and went back to work on the device. "Leonna, I'd like you to try summoning your light for me. Create a pane of aurora," he instructed her. "And if you would, please, tell me about any other powers you have, that you're familiar with."

I was struggling to understand just what it was that the demon man was doing. His attention on me seemed divided with this work of his, and yet... there was something more. His eyes seemed to fluctuate between awareness and oblivion, his face a mask that held innumerable thoughts behind it. This was not the first time that I had seen such behavior, this plastered face meant to hide emotion. Again, I wondered, wishing I could understand and knowing I could not. With a sigh, I began to refocus my energy, trying to take such trivial thoughts out of my mind.

That was when it happened.

Suddenly, it was as if my thoughts were not my own. My vision blurred into a seamless mix of color, my head feeling dizzy. The demon man's lab was gone in the swirl of bright hues, suddenly, and very solidly becoming a small, familiar room. Despite my curious desire to seek out what made this place I had never before seen feel familiar, my attention was fixed soley on a girl who came running to me. Anja.

I had never before seen her, so why...?

"I missed you, papa," the golden haired girl spoke. Despite the cold, despite my inability to understand anything of Anja, I smiled. There was warmth everywhere in my body, a maternal joy I had never before known. I scooped the girl up onto my knee, the next words coming from my mouth sounding exactly like the right things to say.

"I missed you, too." My voice was masculine, as my body was, but this did not strike me as strange. It was the form I had taken all my life, a life that had been not been wealthy, but joyful nontheless...

And then, in a snap, it all went black. It seemed as if I had merely blinked, and my open eyes beheld the same dreary lab I had previously been standing in. There was no longer that comforting room, that little girl, but instead a very disturbed anxiousness that staunched my stomach. I could have sworn that all I had just seen was real, that I had even been a man with a daughter. All of it was so vivid... such solid memory...

I shuddered, grasping the edges of the table as I tried to regain what was left of my scattered nerves. Before me, the demon man continued as if nothing at all had happened.

"Leonna, I'd like you to try summoning your light for me. Create a pane of aurora, and if you would, please, tell me about any other powers you have, that you're familiar with." Perfectly objective, as usual. I was not entirely sure if his eyes had ever wandered away from his device.

"It is all the same," I replied listlessly, trying very hard to refocus on the world around me. "My energy was never different until now. I simply shaped it into different forms." With a docile hand, I obeyed his request nonetheless, focusing again on the energy pulsing within me. Instead of drawing on my flame, however, I drew upon the light I once held, which to my dismay, formed a deep blob of perfect black around my hands. The stuff seemed so substantial that I tried to grasp it, but my hands only clenched upon warm darkness. It was not until I tried to condense it, as I had my light barriers, when I could finally feel a solid substance in my hands.

I frowned.

Although Leonna was frowning at the darkness in front of her, the seromancer simply moved on to the next step. "We've covered the abilities of yours that I have used myself... in addition, you should have gained some dominion over healing, animals and secrets," he told her. "First then, I'd like you to try healing something. I am not certain how you will bring this about, so it may take some trial and error. If you need a subject, I do still have several injuries from my fight with the spider demon, and a few smaller ones." When he mentioned his injuries to her, he spoke in a strictly objective manner, as if he didn't actually care whether or not she decided to heal him; he was only informing her of one of her options.

He looked down at the device on the counter, and then picked up the two syringes he'd collected. He turned the reservoir of the device toward himself, filled it halfway with the first syringe, and then repeated the process with the second syringe. He gave the device a little shake, and then wrapped and secured its leather harness to his forearm, wearing it like an amulet. Near him, the materials in the circle had formed much larger pieces.

Omentus reached over to the circle and tapped on one of its arcs. The floating wood, leather, metal and crystal slid together. It wasn't until the pieces were aligned within inches of one another that their design was obvious. Through his strange magic, Omentus had rearranged the different pieces into a dagger. Its blade was eleven inches long and curved slightly in the direction of its single edge. Its similarly curved six-inch handle was made mostly of wood, with some steel reinforcements, and pads of soft leather to improve the wielder's grip. The seromancer had crafted a deltoid-shaped guard between the handle and the blade, and placed the crystal orb as a pommel on the weapon's butt, secured into place by three steel quillions. Along the back of the blade, five equally spaced crystal protrusions stuck out of the weapon's metal, and flowed down a half an inch over the width of the blade in the shape of small flames.

As soon as the pieces of the dagger came together, the glowing in the arcane circle faded, and the dagger settled down onto the counter's surface.

“A… alright,” I answered, staring curiously at the magic he was working. I could see now that it was a weapon, though I could not quite recall how he had formed it out of so many strange objects and what they had been to begin with. A tiny voice within the folds of my mind tried tell me that I ought to be somewhat afraid of the presence of this new weapon, but I was past feeling. If the demon meant to kill me… well, at least this mess would be over much sooner.

I did not wish to draw any closer to the man, but my feet moved forward anyways. Once the weapon stopped reforming itself, my hands mechanically went to the first injury I could see, which was an ugly brown bruise on the back of the demon man’s hand. While neither of us seemed inclined to heal his wounds, he was in fact the most logical choice, as well as the best way to clarify just what changes had occurred to my power.

The demon man did not pull away when I touched his hand, though the feeling of his skin sent a cold shiver down my spine. There was strong dark magic about him; of that I was already certain. What was not quite as clear were his intentions, which eluded me even now. While my… change had not necessarily been willing, it had been done for the benefit of my companions. That left little for me to have that Omentus would desire. All I could recall was the mention of a mistake, but… had he not said that the “procedure” went well? Was there more meaning there than I understood?

I blinked, pulling my head back out of the confusion of thought that threatened to drown me. I needed to focus. Focus on healing the man that had deformed me.

“Hold still.” My voice was soft, still somewhat cracked from my shouting earlier. The command itself would be more fittingly directed at myself, for it was my hands that trembled as I touched Omentus. His hands, on the contrary, were firm and steady, much like a doctor’s ought to be. At the moment, however, I was not keen to think on how dexterous his hands would have to be to perform a surgery that I felt must have taken place. How else could this strange pressure exist in my limbs and chest?

Again, I shuddered and quickly took my thoughts back to my work. Such things were for later, for when there was time. At the moment, I drew on the softest of my energy, which was pulsing with a surprising ease through my body. For the briefest moment, I was reminded of something Omentus had spoken of my energy, a comment about gentle things being brought outward…

I stared at his hand in mine as my warm energy flowed out effortlessly, a familiar, but far weaker drain pulling at my stamina. That same, gentle blue light shone from my hands, coursing from my body and into Omentus. I could almost feel it as the energy passed through both of us, smoothing over his wounds and soothing the sharp aches that had been cut into him with soft warmth. I continued to release this energy until I felt that the wounds were gone, for then I withdrew my power and promptly let go of him, mildly satisfied to see that the bruise on his hand was gone. It was even somewhat comforting to think that healing others may not be such a hard task anymore. My hands were not even shaking…

I glanced back up into the dark, vivid eyes not more than a foot away, which disturbed my calm just the slightest bit. Omentus had, in fact, managed not to move during the process of healing. “Are you… better?”

"I am, thank you," the apothecary answered. He hadn't bothered to move again, yet. He was still processing how it felt to have been healed by the girl's power. The sensation was warm, but not like the glow of a burn. It was soft, and the sensation of it felt... well, it almost tickled, but not quite. "Hm," he said.

Omentus turned, looking over at Leonna as he picked up a few pieces of wood, vellum and leather from the scrap pile in front of him. He traced a geometric circle onto the counter in front of him, set the materials into the circle, and then touched his finger to a few of the arcs and runes bordering the circle. Under his full attention, the pieces arranged themselves quickly into a fitting sheath and belt for the dagger sitting nearby. As soon as it was done, he took a moment, then said "Excuse me," as he reached past the faerie woman.

He picked up the knife and got down from the stool he had been sitting on. Leonna seemed apprehensive as the seromancer turned toward her. When he held the dagger toward her by its blade, indicating that she should take the handle, she relaxed visibly, however subtly. "Take it," he said. "You haven't got a weapon for now, and you'll need one. I used a bit of your blood in its construction, to attune it to your spirit, especially in the crystal channels throughout its construction. Its enchantment is complete now, so you should be able to focus your powers through the weapon to augment the blade. With any fortune, you may be able to access your light and flame with this device. Aside from the augmentation I have placed on the dagger, its blade was previously enchanted. It will never dull, and it is capable of cutting into even magical protection with relative ease."

When Omentus offered the bizarrely formed weapon to me, I felt like a child being given *Horehound syrup. I did not want it, nor have anything more to do with him and his cryptic magic, but what choice did I have? Such tools I had used before in hunting, but my skill in them was lacking. If I came against a drow, they would be at a far greater advantage in many regards...

What was he thinking? All that I had learned so far was useless in this dark mountain. Plants did not grow here, the drow were perfectly accustomed to darkness, and flying was far too constricted within the tunnels to be of any use at all. Even my healing abilities were useless if I could not reach Khaz and the others. How had any of this helped me?

The anger started deep within my chest, threatening to disturb my mask of outer calm. My ironed face betrayed little, as did my tongue, but the heat of anger was slowly building up as I considered all of this. Stripped of my flame, what did I have left but petty magic? I had been betrayed...

"And what would you have me do with it?" I snapped with cold scorn. "Stab it into the first drow I see? That would surely be effective-- just before he impales me with the blade of his sword. You say it will release my flame, do you? Can water be driven forth from a dam that keeps a dry lake?

I can think of a better purpose for it. Stab it into me, that you may give me a quicker death than that which you have invented for me." This I spoke with a fist thrust against my heart as my bubbling anger blazed through my gaze.


*Very bitter herbal remedy for cough

OoC: Dangerous... uh oh...

"Don't be dramatic, Leonna," Omentus said. His expression hadn't changed. "Drow cannot see in the dark, but they can see heat through it. You, however, can shape a kind of darkness that overlaps their, or anyone else's, vision. If my observations are correct, you can create walls, shapes, weapons and many other things with this ability, and it will not give away your location, like the light that you can create would."

He set the dagger down on the counter, beside its sheath, and then crossed the room an empty counter. "Vamet, the pouch, please," he said. Moments later, the large, spidery demon who had been perched on top of the building crawled into the room. It produced a leather pack with many pockets and clasps from its underside, and then set it on the counter beside the woman. Without a word, the demon left the room, returning to the building's roof. While it came in and left again, Omentus had told Leonna, "Your power to cause plants to grow will be immensely helpful. Plant life which is not moss or fungus is alien and disorienting to the drow, and you will be able to entangle and probably kill them with many of the seeds and starters which Vamet has collected into this pack for you at my behest.

"I suspect you have some significant ability regarding secrets, which will give you another advantage over the secretive drow. You should not second guess your healing, which I have no doubt is also applicable to yourself. Your armor has seeds in it which you can use in conjunction with your ability to give yourself better protection, as well as other things I am certain, if you use your imagination." While he spoke, he was also using a metal scalpel on one of the walls of the room. With it, he traced the outline of a doorway-like portal onto the stone, and decorated its inside with many arcane sigils and designs.

"If all else fails you, I have given you other powers, but it is not safe to be always in possession of them. You may not like them much, anyhow. For about a minute and a half, you'll have both sets of powers at your disposal, and who knows? You may be able to combine them in unique and powerful ways. But the powers themselves... they are death, chaos, destruction, fate, heroism and the all-consuming void. Perhaps you understand why you should not always be in possession of those things." He finished tracing the portal onto the wall, and took a step back to survey his work.

"If you want to know what to do with the knife, then pick it up. See if you can channel your fire with it. Failing that, use the darkness or the power over plant life, and extend the weapon with it." He set his hand to his chin, and thought for a moment. "I'll give you a little time for that, but get your things, I'll be sending you back to your friends in a few minutes."

Omentus lifted his left arm, and touched the device near his wrist. With just a bit of effort, he pressed on the device, bringing it together with the brassy port that stuck out just slightly from his arm. A tiny, silver-black spark jumped between two even tinier nodes on the back of the vaguely spider-shaped device, and then the changes began. The seromancer's veins turned silver in color, standing out sharply from the tone of the rest of his skin. The veins spread across his body, making their progress known as more of the deific blood coursed his system.

When the changes reached his heart, Omentus jerked. His eyes bulged, and he grasped for a counter frantically. His pupils narrowed until nothing but the teal color of his eyes could be seen. Just as the silver veins covered nearly all of his body, he gripped at his heart and became rigid. There was a palpable change in the air around him, as he did not just fall, but collapsed into a heap on the ground. He was dead.

My anger painfully drained away as Omentus explained point by point how foolish I was being. It was never a pleasant experience for one's emotions to be dissected and subdued by logic, particularly when I saw how much he was doing in his attempts to help me. At first, the sensation made me even more upset, indignant, but it did not last. Omentus, it seemed, could soothe emotion even as quickly as he could cause it... or perharps I was simply being testy. I was anxious for Khaz, upset by my own changes, and despite my efforts to stay calm, these were things that could not be denied or stored away for later thought. How could I ignore this darkness pulsing through me? This realization that Khaz might be dead at any moment because I was too slow?

Well, at the very least, it was good to know that Omentus had thought of what I had not. Seeds may prove to be potent weapons after all, and a dagger was better than nothing. I was confused about the demon man's talk of death, heroisim and void, about this odd switch in powers, and had I been given time, I might have given such a notion the thought it deserved. At the moment, however, Omentus had finally spoken of sending me back, causing my heart to leap in my chest. Yes, the time was drawing near, the time when I would either save Khaz or instill my wrath against the drow. How much damage I could do on my own, I did not know, but death was only a releif at this point. It made me feel a bit guilty for wasting all of the demon man's gifts in such a way, but if he had suspected such a thing, he had spoken no words against it.

Then something very, very strange happened. Having finished the odd symbols on the wall, he grasped his wrist, causing a spark to fly. To my surprise and horror, the veins of his arm began turning a stark silver, spreading across his body like a rampant disease. Before I could react, before Omentus could explain, he reached for the support of a nearby counter, then, clutching at his chest, Omentus fell to the ground like a sack full of rocks.

"O...Omentus!" I was at his side in a second, rolling his unmoving body on his back. As was typical for a healer, I ran my eyes all along his body, searching for something, anything that might explain what on earth had happened. All that I could see was the strange viens of silver that contrasted terribly with his skin, a webbing of death that covered his body.

Panic started to well up inside me as Omentus remained unmoving. I had been angry at him before, perhaps I may have even hated him for what he did, but I would never have wished death upon him, not here in this awful dark hole. What if he had family, friends above the surface of the mountain? What could I have done without him? This horrible man had helped me, had been patient when I was angry... this simply was not right!

"Omentus, get up!" I took the man by his shoulders, trying to shake him back awake. I knew that it was useless, that the sleep of death could not be so trivially brought out of, but I could not give up. I could nto accept that he was dead. I had not gone through hell and back again to simply watch another man die. There had to be something, anything...

Magic, yes, I had magic. Healing magic...perhaps it was not too late! With tears foaming up in my eyes, I called upon my gentle energy with paniced vigor, forcing the blue light that appeared into the corpse of Omentus. I felt it linger around his chest, on the surface of his skin, but nothing happened. A dead body had no life force with which to heal itself...so this...this was useless...

"No! Omentus, Omentus... please... I did not mean it. I did not mean what I said. You have done so much for me, and I am grateful. I do not hate you. Please, get up, do not leave me like this!" My tears began running down my cheeks as I continued to shake Omentus. This had happened too suddenly, without warning. He could not truly be dead... none of it made any sense...

"Demon!" I lifted my head from Omentus, searching desperately for the horrible spider creature Omentus had with him. There must... there must be something such a creature could do! "Demon, your master is... he... please! Do something!"

For a moment, he floated in a silver expanse, and then descended into an inky void. There was a feature beneath him that was not unlike ground to stand on, though the man already knew that he no longer had legs. Lights shone gently in each of many distances. This was the judging ground, a secreted part of the multiverse where the souls of all things went as they began the next step in their journey around the wheel. All things depending, Omentus could choose where to go and what would follow, if he only knew what each light was.

His soul could be recycled into the planes, and he could be born again as an innocent babe. Perhaps instead, he could move on to the infinite hellish shore that he deserved. The sky above him was black, the ground reached out endlessly in each direction, with no landmarks but those distant lights. Around him, he knew of the psychopomps that quibbled over which of them would be his guide. Until a decision could be reached, he would not be made aware of them, but he had known from his time alive that they were there. If it were possible, perhaps most of all the psychopomps were there. He tried to speak, but felt himself subdued. In his spirit's form, a sort of mirror what he truly was in life, a silver-black vein appeared on his surface. "I shall not be traveling with any of you," he told the guides.

The inaudible white noise of whispering death guides subsided. "I know you are there, and that you argue over me, but I will disappoint each of you." The psychopomps continued to listen, as a another vein appeared on Omentus' spirit. His sight felt strange. He blinked, and could see them standing among him. Oh, they were numerous. A guide for every being he had made a part of himself, for every life he had touched significantly, for every home he'd ever had, and for where he had died. He chose one, and looked at the guide straight in the eye. "Trickster god, I will not yet walk the road," Omentus said. The guides of souls, all of them, took a step back from the spirit of Omentus. In unison, they bowed low.

* * *

His heart beat. The silver webbing across his body vanished, all at once. His eyes snapped open, and his reached up for Leonna. First with hands of pale delft light, which could be seen only in dreams, then with hands of his own. He rose off the ground, standing up despite the extreme awkwardness of the way it would otherwise need to have been done. He lifted Leonna with him, cradling her cheek with one hand. His heart beat again, and a second time, and he drew a breath. A tiny, wayward star of light evaporated from his body. It did not go far, seeming content to float nearby the man.

To Leonna, he had changed in more ways than merely living again. His nature had changed, now stressing the limits of mortality, perhaps even breaching them. In addition to and eclipsing the darkness that normally pervaded the man's being, there was more. He was austere and super-present. His touch did not tickle, but blossomed in her body with the possibilities of endless fates and destinies. His voice boomed in her soul, more felt than heard, though he had not yet spoken, "Within you, Leonna Fallenstar, Daughter of the Sky, sleeps the strength and courage to surmount any odds, to change this world in one hundred ways; you have the power to help them. Have not doubt in yourself." He set her down on the ground, no longer suspending her with whatever demideific ability he now wielded, and took a step back from her.

He had changed since pressing that device to his arm. However, the exact changes were difficult to determine. His eyes flashed with a new color, the sky blue of the heavens above and the fabric of dreams, but never when they were looked upon directly. Even from a distance, it was clear that his touch could somehow mean everlasting glory. And although he was there, it was difficult to see him, as if he had not yet arrived, or was already gone - unless you had looked directly upon him.

"I am going to send you back to your friends," he said. There was a certain truth to what he had spoken, in a way prophetic. "It has been too long we have been gone, do not travel this way when you arrive, as you could meet ourselves. Gather your things, and tell me when you are ready."

OoC: Wow. Intense

BiC:

What I felt when Omentus returned cannot be told in words. I was shocked to see his eyes reopen-- eyes that no longer held the dark teal or black that I had become accustomed to. For a moment, I wondered if he had been possesed, or if some foriegn spirit had found his empty body and stolen it, but all of this dissapeared when he touched me. I knew it was him, and yet it was not. There was something within him that reached within me, a force beyond what mortal understanding could comprehend. I was too awed to speak, to even think, for the words that pressed themselves into my soul commanded all of my attention. I could have sworn that it was destiny itself that spoke to me.

When I found my feet again, I still had no words with which to speak. I could only nod and obey, moving away from the bizarre creature to gather what was now mine. I ought to have been afraid, confused, perhaps even numb, but I was not. There was too much security here, an unspoken promise that all would be well. Even knowing that my body was still unfamiliar, that the sheathed blade I slipped into my leather sash was a weapon I hardly knew how to use, I could find assurance. I placed the leather pack on my shoulder, slipping Omentus' map inside, then finally approached him again, unsure of what I ought to say. Somehow, I think he already knew.

Omentus, now armed with the proper portfolios for what he was about to do, stepped toward the traced portal on the wall. He reached out and touched its empty center with one hand, and it became a doorway. The doorway revealed nothing but a wall at first, but then the seromancer took the portal by its edges, and pulled it outward into the room.

On one side, it was not there, but on the other, it was still a doorway to a colorless pearlescent place. From the doorway, a silver-grey mist poured out and into the stone room. Inside the place it revealed, which now looked quite like a pearlescent and mostly featureless copy of the stone room, there were no copies of Leonna nor the plants she had grown. In their place were gold-silver threads, which came from and continued on in a pair of directions that made the mind dizzy to look toward.

The seromancer looked at the fae woman, then at the doorway. He pressed his lips into a line, thinking of how much this Leonna looked like his Anja, but he could not bring himself to tell her. Instead, he said, "Wait here, be prepared to be elsewhere, and do not seek out this room for any less than three hours." As he walked into the doorway to this strange otherplace, he told her, "I have faith in you."

* * *

A phantom of himself flickered in his vision. He felt the eyes of the guardians look upon him. These entities, who had seen what he was about to do, were judging him. Not what he did, but what he was. Within him, he had the powers of Esmoiress and Isalie. The first was a goddess of time. The second, was a goddess of death and fate. If power over those things did not give him license to determine the destiny of another, there would be no such license that could ever be had by him. Why would they judge him unworthy? He had the powers of the deities, but he was still mortal.

If he were judged unworthy, the guardians would descend upon him. First, they would ask why he had done it. Next, they would ask why he was justified. If he could not provide them with a sufficient answer, they would ensure he could not do it again. It was a heinous crime to tamper with the lifelines of mortal things, and perhaps worse still to make a person exist twice in any single span of time. The ramifications on the fabric of this very plane - eternity - were impossible to guess. If some primal tenet of the demiplane were breached, only the abominations knew what it would mean.

Nothing had stopped him yet, however. He had more than proved his ability, merely by being here and thinking about it. He charged forward. The seromancer reached out and folded his fingers around the gold-silver thread that indicated Leonna, then pulled out the line. Perhaps she felt a funny sensation when he took her lifeline. He didn't know. He turned and walked away, crossing the distance of miles and hours in just moments.

A person's lifeline indicated several things about them. It told when they were there, where they came into being and where they left being. During any time that a person was not alive, the lifeline was not there, but resuscitation would appear as a fuzziness in the line. Other states of living that did not come from the Bright Void would appear as differently colored lines. Undead, for instance, had blue-grey lines. A lifeline was also a record of where in the mortal plane a person was. Their location. The line could be followed anaward and kataward on the demiplane of time, which reflected the flow of time in the mortal plane.

What Omentus had done with Leonna's lifeline is take away a portion of it, and carry it through the mountain with him. If he reattached it to the point where he had taken it from, it would mean nothing to or about her. If he simply moved where the line started again, it would move her physical being to another location. If he moved the line to a different location along the ana/kata direction, it would move her to another place in time. If he did not reattach it to a lifeline, it would kill her.

At last, though, he reached the chamber of the dark crystal. There were many lines in the chamber to choose from. As he passed by each of them, he ran his fingers along the lines for a moment each. In doing this, he identified the owner of each lifeline. At last, he found the drow he'd been looking for. An unconscious one, sitting in a secluded corner of the cavern, behind an icy obelisk. His lifeline was strong, but not awake. In moments, that would no longer be the case.

Omentus reached out to the drow's lifeline, bringing Leonna's to touch it. Then, with a motion similar to tying a knot, he spliced the faerie woman's line into the position of the drow's. At that moment, not long after he had left the chamber with her unconscious body in the tow of his autumn wings, Leonna stopped being in the stone chamber in the future of the mortal plane, and started being in the crystal chamber again.

What did this mean for the drow whose lifeline Omentus had stolen for Leonna, though? That was the nature of his crime, why he needed the power of the goddesses to have done it. That drow did not die, he had simply been nicked out of existence.

Leaving the lifelines as they were now, Omentus returned to the portal. He walked anaward until he passed by himself for a flicker of a moment, and then crossed the portal back to the stone room. When had he arrived? Just moments after he left. He closed the portal, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the paradox.

* * *

By her own hand, the battle turned against them. He she only not have dropped the jewels, this would still be under their control. It was not the time to think, however. Auauthia, the surilith witch, grasped another of her etherium jewels. The crystal chamber was a mire of shadows and ice shards. The crystal on which Qilintha stood was barely more than half intact. Most of the drow in the cavern had been killed, or had fallen into portals to the demiplane of shadow. A priestess was still fighting at the bottom of the cavern. A few crossbowmen still pelted the half-dragon with bolts, even as his dragonfire washed over Negaseus.

Only two more spells to go. She lifted her hands, and uttered the incantation quickly. As the etherium jewel burst into arcane spray, a shining point of light erupted in the apex of the cavern. From it, daylight swirled and fought with the shadows, then dissipated into the surrounding area. Where before there was only shadow, now there were currents of light and eddies where the two mixed furiously. In some places, the patterns that it created were mesmerizing, others dizzying to look upon. Every so often, a patch of light - and thus freedom of movement - would wash over a person, but vanish before they could regain their balance. To the inhabitants of the chamber, the light was more harm than good.


The dragon's claw tore at his arm, ripping it free from his body. The pain spurred him toward ever greater violence. Another claw sliced into his abdomen, invigorating him. Negaseus was in his element, enjoying the carnage he shared with his foe. Spearing his severed arm with another leg, the surilith reattached the bloody limb to his stump. His regenerative powers worked quickly at the task, but a river of white fire poured down over his body. For a moment, the numerous magical protections and wards protected him from the flames, but were washed away in the flames. Dispelling flames. Negaseus' body shrunk back into its normal proportions, the lashing tentacles about its body vanished, and the smell of burning chitin pervaded from his armor.

For the berserker demon, it was over in moments. He had baked and burned to death in his armor, while gushing blood from a massive gash in his abdomen. Steel and iron had melted in slag that cooled slowly on his corpse, and stuck grotesquely to the pieces of armor that were made of metals too tolerant to melt under the heat. He slumped to the ground, dead for the damage he had done at last.


Qilintha sneered down at the dragon, while the latter looked up at her. Revenge glittered in his eyes. She looked to the katana in her hand, and threw down the saya to the ground at the dragon's feet. "Iyivesk!" she shouted, throwing the sword at the massive beast.

Reflexively, Ren reached up to snatch his precious Akane from the air, only to see it take flight. The blade sliced across his cheek as it flew, eluding his second grasp. He stumbled backward, glancing behind him before remembering that he was still in the presence of a drow priestess. Meanwhile, the sword had grown wings of glittering steel, flying out of the chamber through a door that had not yet been blocked off.

Kechra, Auauthia's familiar spider, jumped down from the dragon's back in the excitement. Still too small to be seen, it climbed the dead Negaseus, and disappeared inside the berserker's mouth.

Beside her, Auauthia landed suddenly on the top of the dark crystal. She closed her arms around Qilintha in a disturbingly sapphic embrace, while the other reached her arm around the demon's neck. The Lolthian high priestess took a spindle of white stone out of the sheen of fabric that just barely covered her leg, and smiled mockingly at Ren. As she held the spindle in her hand, she gazed at Ren, daring him with her eyes to take revenge for his petty blade.

* * *

On a twisted bluff, Lynn Odakota sat in silence as the shrieking winds whipped by him. The world around him changed, as if becoming more shallow than before. It was a thing he had never before been witness to. In the deep shadows, pools of greenish whiteness formed, their colors brighter still than even the sun. Quietly contemplating for now, Lynn did not know the meaning of this. Leaping down from the bluff, he sought the mountain.

His feet crept quietly on the ground, for though he was large, he was by no means the most frightening thing which dwelt here, and nothing was to be underestimated. As he trod through the spires and the hollows which led to the mountain tunnels. If the change could be attributed, it might be to the star crystal deep inside.

Eyes, mostly green or yellow, stared out at him as he stalked down the tunnelway. It was eerily quiet here, as though the shallowness had stolen the will to hunt from the predators of this place. Where was the aura that flowed out from the star crystal? His paws quickened on the stone, bringing him faster to the chamber. The tunnels chilled, another thing unfamiliar to the mountain. It was a fire mountain, where such cold should not have been.

After what seemed like a passing of the sun for his curiosity, Lynn finally crossed into the chamber. It seemed almost infinite in its vastness, over a quarter mile from one side of it to the other, and almost as high. In the center of the chamber, the star crystal had been sundered. One side of it had been torn away, and its umbra had vanished. From way the crystal was hewn, it seemed to have been done by claws like his own, but those had been far larger. Impossible. No such creature could have come into the chamber, and no such creature could have been born and grown here since the last time Lynn Odakota had been here. How was this then the truth?

Lynn's ears flicked toward a ledge of the chamber. It was silent, but he had heard a scream there. A call for help. No, it hadn't come from there. It had come from the white pool, but in the direction of the ledge. And it was no cry, it was a calling. Gripping one of the talon gloves that hung around his neck with his paw, he bolted for the pool. As the shaman had prophesied, years before, his calling had come.

* * *

Hundreds of feet away, and many up, Zahpunhesiel advanced on Khaz. Takai, having ferreted himself away in Khaz's mind for the fear of the demon's white eyes, did nothing to aid the boy. The demon's white wing-feathers stabbed into the ground as he came forward on the boy. They pierced the shards of ice that jutted from the ground and walls.

Khaz's swords were not with him. What could he do? What could he do against a foe who he could not even look upon? He faltered, backing away from this white-eyed demon. His back met up against a wide pillar of ice. There was nowhere left to go. Panic gripped at his chest again.

A weight suddenly sat upon him. It came suddenly, but gently, then bounded away again, suddenly forcing Khaz to sit on the ground as it pounced toward the demon of light. The creature shrieked as it met with the light-winged demon, becoming fully visible to the boy for the first time. As it bounded from Khaz, it had left behind a weight in his lap.

The weight was a pair of black gauntlets, made from a wrought metal that seemed stylized in the way it had been crafted. They were large enough for the boy's hands, and slightly adjustable, but would not cover them as thoroughly as true gauntlets. These were talon gloves, metal frames designed to lock over the hands and wrists, protecting the back of the hand with metal bones while leaving the pad of the hands exposed to the air. Each of the fingers and thumbs was covered in more complete armor, and also ended in a sharp claw, about half an inch long. Although these talon gloves seemed to be crafted of iron, they were too light for that, being just more than half as heavy as iron should have been.

Around the wrist of the left glove was a sheet of black, metallic liquid that would cover half of Khaz's forearm. On the right glove was a long rectangular slot, in the middle of the back of the hand, which was fused to the metal bones of the glove. This slot continued between the *Saturn and Apollo fingers of the hand. Both talon gloves were padded on the inside with black silk, to keep them from chafing against skin or another glove.

The creature was large, the size of among the largest jaguars, but covered in a coat of soft, dark grey feathers. The creature had a mane of longer - and softer - feathers that ran along the back of its neck and down part of its spine in a way that resembled the mane of a horse. Standing a little more than 30 inches tall at its shoulder and being almost six feet long, it could not have weighed any less than 215 pounds. Its feathery tail was more than another 30 inches long.

Zahpunhesiel staggered under the weight of the beast as it latched onto his shoulders and chest. One of his wing-feathers gripped it by the neck and tore the creature off of him, throwing it to the ground as the creature raked its claws across Zahpunhesiel's face, slashing through one eye, and gouging out the other.

Lynn struck the ground, but brought himself around again, ready to face the demon in the defense of the boy.

*-*

*The Saturn and Apollo fingers of the hand are more commonly known as the middle and ring fingers, respectively.

I gazed after Omentus in awed confusion, only to find a bizarre sensation springing up in me just moments after he dissapeared into the strange hole. For a mere second, it was if I was not quite standing where I actually was. Certainly nothing around me had changed, and yet everything was changing, some event that I could not quite put my finger on. In the next second, I was not in the lab at all.

As usual, the cold was the first thing to greet me. All of the air around me was frozen, as well as the ground. As I looked about me, I saw that there were great spikes of ice protruding from the stone wall above me, and behind me, there stood an enormous pillar of ice. I was entirely mystified and afraid, becoming even more scared as I felt the surrounding dark energy ebb into me. Unlike flame energy, darkness was much softer, cooler, a sensation I was not used to. As it flooded my arms and chest, I shuddered, half expecting myself to freeze over, but I did not. My body was simply cooler now, and though I was disturbed, it did not hamper my energy as it ought to have.

The next disoreinting thing was the pull of dark energy. I resisted the annoying pull as I felt another spell rip through the air, transforming the darkness around me into a swirling pool of light. With a gasp of pain as my eyes burned from the sudden light, I turned away from the wall, covering my eyes with my arm as I leaned against the pillar of ice. I felt my way to the edge of the rectangular piece, hesitating once I reached the edge of it. I did not know what was beyond the ice, nor did I honestly want to know, but if there was a battle going on, it could very well involve Khaz and the others. That was why I was here.

I opened my eyes with a great deal of trepidation, gaping at the sight before me. At first, I could not recognize what room it was that I now stood in, for it certainly looked nothing like what I remembered. The first time I had walked into the crystal chamber, my sight had been occluded with shadow. Now, even with the spots of swirling lights dancing about the room, I could see it perfectly. I could see the true height of the crystal, the web-like catwalks that clung to upper stories of platforms. Clinging, crushing into all of this were layers of ice and spikes of stone, all mixed with spots of shadow and color.

The drow had an awful taste for interior design.

My sight, however, revealed things of much greater importance. Upon the crystal, I could see a large spider and drow priestess standing before... before a dragon? How on earth had such a creature arrived here? Despite the fact that it was an enormous creature with silver scales, I was tempted to believe it was actually Ren. While I could not quite feel his aura so far away with such darkness all about me, it seemed logical that it was him-- how else could such a creature be here? After all... had he not claimed to be born of dragons?

Of course, there was still more to worry about than whether or not Ren was a creature that could change from a human into a dragon. Where were Khaz and Rontu?

Just before me, I found the answer. Near the center of the icy room, I could see the bleeding Rontu chasing after yet another priestess. Behind him were two deformed corpses, empty eyed and grasping. Such a sight made me ground my teeth angirly. These drow had no respect for the dead, nor any for life. This could be seen in the way the priestess ran laughing from Rontu, having tortured her own kind even as she fought. The scandalously dressed woman was nothing more than a coward hiding behind her evil magic. Had Khaz been able to stand against such terrible enemies?

To my surprise, he was on one of the above walkways, which stood at least forty feet from the ground. Thankfully, he did not appear to have undergone any physical changes. Before him there were also two beasts, one of darkness and one of light. At the moment, they seemed more content to fight eachother than attack Khaz.

Oh Goddesses... Oh Goddesses, thank you! My heart must have leapt a full six inches up into my throat, relief and joy soothing the chill out of my body. Khaz, Rontu, Ren... they were all alive!

But for how long? The odds were by no means in their favor, and they had sustained particularly savage wounds. For a moment, I was entirely at a loss as to who I ought to protect first. A large part of me wanted to immediately fly to Khaz, the most vulnerable of the three. Logic, however, told me that Ren was facing the brunt of the attacks, and the wounded Rontu may not be able to hold off much longer. Since the dark elf was also the closest, I decided to run to him first, taking Omentus' blade in hand and a pinch of seeds in the other.

As I took that first step from behind the ice pillar, I was nearly overcome with fear. Who was I, some deformed creature with an unfamiliar blade, to fight against such forces of darkness? I hardly knew even my own abilities, hardly knew myself anymore, and yet I thought I could protect my companions. I had done everything I could to get here, gave everything I had to do what I was doing now, but... now that I was here... could I really do it?

"I have faith in you."

Omentus' words came rushing to me, words that had pierced even to my soul. He had given me this darkness, these tools to fight, and no doubt that I could help these people. He... he had to have been right... I knew this with my very soul.

And so I charged. The priestess was already running in my direction, and when I jumped out to greet her, she seemed somewhat surprised. Her red eyes narrowed, a cruel smile playing about her lips. Perhaps she thought I would not be able to stop in time. Perhaps she thought I was merely weak. None of that mattered.

I came at the drow woman with my dagger ready to strike, though I never intended to actually make a hit. My seeds were safely nestled in my left fist as I came dashing towards her, my heart beating with all the speed and ferocity of a lion. When I came near enough to strike, she thrust her blade out at me. Instead of blocking, trying to steady myself, I let myself slip backwards on the ice, rushing smoothly behind her as my left side came upon the ground, which sucessfully put me between her and the approaching Rontu. Before she could turn, I thrust the seeds at her, forcing them to sprout with all speed. They blossomed in the tiny second it took for the woman to turn around, their roots grasping at her face and arms, and there they did not stop. Small green viens began thickening against her black skin even as she tore at them, growing faster than they could be destroyed. The priestess even began screaming as sharply pointed leaves protruded from the stems, and I soon saw why.

Omentus' demon had been wise to choose stinging nettle.

OoC: Whew... I hope this is okay