What a Night: Parts One thru Ten, & Epilogue
The Chronicles of Myra Sunveil

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Myra made her way quickly through the sandstone streets of Trinsic. Since The Shadow had resigned as Mayor, it seemed the streets were a little more crowded than she first remembered. But she supposed that was for the best; after all, this was a human city, and she'd always been told that most of them were bustling places.

Stepping into the Keg and Anchor, at least thirty minutes before the meeting was set to begin, Myra was greeted by the sight of a rather sizable gathering. But she wasn't late, much to her relief, and people continued to file in here and there.

Soon enough a stately looking, older man entered and Galahad moved forward to greet him.

"William!"

"Galahad! How are things?"

"How was the trip Councilor?"

"A fantastic fishing trip."

"Things are better now that you're here."

"Was I missed?"

Galahad motioned to a table and the two of them had a seat. "Truth be told, we didn't know you were gone until recently... when you were needed."

"Needed?"

Galahad only nodded.

William was obviously growing more and more uneasy. "My family is in danger?"

"No... Have you heard any news..."

William shook his head just the slightest. "I just got in."

Myra was flirting and being 'herself' a few tables away, but was listening quite intently, though as inconspicuously as possible.

William continued. "In fact, I almost forgot I said I would come here tonight."

"Well, I have news to sadden you." Galahad hesitated.

"Yes? What is it lad?"

"I am told you were acquainted with the Paladin, Sir Pralor?"

"Aye, a good man."

With mention of the paladin's name, Myra decided it was time for her to go and pay better attention. She hopped onto the bench next to the man known as William, as he continued to speak to Galahad.

"Afraid he had to leave town thanks to your mayor here."

"He is dead. Killed by The Shadow."

A look of pure shock came to William's face.

Galahad nodded. "I'm sorry William."

"And the other paladins? Did he get them too?"

"We have no idea. We gathered tonight to find the other 'renegades'. Truthfully, we were hoping you might point us in the right direction."

"Oh dear." William frowned. "I would hardly call them renegades for wanting to stop evil. But that is the name they were given..."

"That is what The Shadow called them."

"Pralor told me where he was going to hide out."

Galahad interjected, after catching sight of Derfel's confused look at William's comments about the mayor... "We have a new Mayor now, and they would be welcomed to return."

"Well that is good news at least."

A barmaid whispered to one of the cooks "Lord Blackthorn has betrayed humanity and is raising an army!" She just happened to say it at a moment of dead silence in the Keg and Anchor... so all could hear.

Murmurs swept across the room.

William looked at Galahad. "And that is bad news."

"Yes, but that is not a matter for tonight..."

William agreed. "Well, Pralor took the paladins to the outpost near the Shrine of Spirituality. He felt its proximity to a Shrine would keep them safe. And they were guarding it in case The Shadow tried anything there. Quite dreadful. Could you go check on them?"

Galahad nodded. "We shall mount and go to them tonight."

William was looking rather distressed. "Thank you."

Myra quipped in, "Let's hope they aren't as messy as the last one." She wrinkled her nose in disgust, remembering the body of the first paladin.

William looked at her, "Messy?"

Too late, Myra realized she shouldn't have said anything, as Galahad made a 'shh' gesture at her. "Um... oops." She pursed her lips shut.

William looked back at Galahad. "How... badly did he kill Pralor?"

Galahad lowered his eyes and his voice. "Sir Pralor had his spirit ripped from his body."

"Ripped? That is horrible news."

Myra just couldn't keep her lips shut. "Daemons like doing that, I hear." She quickly put a hand over her mouth.

William nodded sadly. "I imagine so. Then go out and make sure the others are safe. I trust you don't need me for that?"

"No..." Galahad confirmed that they did not need William to attend them.

Derfel spoke up, stepping forward as everyone rose from their seats. "Lord William."

William turned to face Derfel, finishing a thought. "I want to go see his wife. She must be devastated."

Derfel stepped forward, offering out a paladin's sword and shield. "Perhaps Sire Pralor would wish you to have these."

"Thank you. I shall make certain his family receives those."

Galahad nodded. "Thank you William."

"Good luck." William recalled away.

The group was set and shortly after headed off toward the guard post, nearest the Shrine of Spirituality. The going was pretty steady and one could almost feel the anticipation in the air. Soon enough, the post rose above the canopy of the surrounding forest and into view. No birds could be heard chirping, and the wildlife was... particularly absent. Something Myra noticed right away. With a slight shrug, she attributed that to the clamoring cavalry behind her.

The group moved around to the doors. Myra's eyes caught sight of something, but before she could investigate, the troupe of horsed riders rode over the head and into the now open doors of the outpost.

Myra eyed the trampled head. "I hope that wasn't anyone important..."

Gasps resounded from those who'd entered the outpost. Myra carefully stepped over the mangled head and into the doorway. The scene was horrific. Dismembered, torn bodies littered the area. Pieces of what used to be armor were scattered throughout the room, covered in gore and blood. Myra thought she caught the faint scent of sulfur and brimstone in the air...

She worked her way around body parts, and through the crowd, to stand next to Galahad. Apparently someone had survived this... massacre. A young paladin stood in the corner, holding everyone at bay with his halberd.

Through some patient questioning, it was revealed that The Shadow himself had come here, with a 'horde' of daemons, during one of the paladins' training sessions. The only survivor, by the name of Clyde, hid himself from The Shadow when the attack began.

"He found me. Hiding in the corner. He said he would let me live because I represented Shame. He made me watch. He ripped their souls out of their bodies. He had a book. Said he would send their souls into Shame. He... He turned them into Blood Elementals."

"How...how many?" Galahad hesitated to ask.

"Six of them. He created six elementals and then the Daemon gated them away. Laughing about how Honor would be forever weakened while they fought in Shame."

"And he said he would sent them to Shame?"

"Yes. He worships the Sins."

"What is your name, Sir Paladin?"

"I am Clyde. I did listen to his plans, and how to foil them. I think he wanted me to hear them just so I would know how impossible it would be. If you can find the blood elementals and retrieve their blood... then take the blood to one of the Shrines and release them."

"Any shrine?" Galahad asked.

"He did not say which."

Myra stepped closer to Galahad's side and said quietly "I'd suggest Honor."

Grokken also spoke up from within the crowd. "Honor."

Galahad nodded, as did Clyde.

And so it was decided that this troupe would delve into the depths of Shame to retrieve and set free the spirits of 6 slain paladins. The fight was long and hard. Many wounds were taken along the way, but finally Galahad held in his hands 6 delicate vials of blood.

They returned to the Keg and Anchor, and from there, traveled to the Shrine of Honor. The vials were placed very carefully upon the dais leading up to the ankh, and Galahad spoke the mantra. The air veritably tingled with energy and Myra thought she could almost feel the spirits being left free of the vials.

With their task accomplished, and everyone feeling much more at ease, the group traveled back to the Keg and Anchor once more, to celebrate!

After a few drinks and resting her feet, from all the walking that evening, Myra decided to head back to the Glade. She had to be sure the Drow weren't causing too much trouble back at the Silver Arrow...

Myra stepped through the gate that Maligor had opened for her, to the Silver Arrow. It came up beside the Arrow, where the wind swept in from the northeast off of the bay. Myra closed her eyes and smiled for a brief moment, enjoying the cool caress of the breeze. She could smell spring in the air. But she sensed something else in the air as well, and stepping around the corner, her suspicions were confirmed. Andrew Do'Kora. He glanced back only slightly as she circled around behind him with a pleasant smile.

"Do we always greet guests outside?" She glanced at the crowd standing around. She moved to stand beside Ainuyr, as he appeared to be the one with whom Andrew was "facing off".

Mike replied offhandedly. "Well it is a nice evening." Allanen was standing on the steps to the Arrow and added, "Some 'guests' are best left outside." And Ainuyr commented quietly, his eyes never leaving Andrew, "I'd rather be standing."

Andrew shot her an unamused look, and returned his attention to Ainuyr. Myra replied to the unamused look with a sweet smile for Andrew.

Crimson spoke up, "We are listening to the lich's lackey here."

"Oh? Is he telling a good tale?"

That seemed to get Andrew's attention, though he pretended to ignore Crimson, and turned his attention once more upon Myra. She was feeling so antagonistic... she almost hoped he'd try something.

She heard Mike from somewhere off to her side, "He is bearing the forked tongue of the lich."

"Perhaps you know the answer. After all, you were present when I presented the proposal..."

Myra moved just a bit closer to Ainuyr and he seemed to relax a little, but kept his eyes fixed warily upon Andrew.

"You've come for your answer then?"

Andrew nodded once. Her pale green eyes locked on his own blue gaze. And she smiled. A large, very happy smile. The smile of... well, an overly pleased smile.

"I think you might be pleased." She began.

Andrew stood up straight, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade.

Myra continued. Let him attack her here, in front of all of these people... "But if I recall correctly, I can sum up our answer in just two words." She gave an exaggerated look of feigned thought. "I believe what you can tell Khell is..." She spoke slowly to drag out the sentence. " "Stuff it." " She finished her statement by smiling her prettiest smile and fluttering her lashes at him.

"Well said." Ainuyr nodded with grim approval.

Andrew's expression twisted very slightly, hardly noticed, and then he closed his eyes for a moment. Seemingly reluctant? "Very well." He gave Myra a short bow, which she returned with a mocking curtsey. "I shall see you on the field then..." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Myra was nearly giddy. "Oh, that made me feel MUCH better!"

The group of them fell into light conversation, discussing Andrew Do'Kora and his new 'master', Khellenduras. Myra was feeling on top of the world, though. Myra began thinking... She could have followed Andrew, she was pretty sure. A few days past, K'ryn had come to her and warned her of a new temple...

Maligor interrupted her thoughts, "Myra, what do you seek at Khell's home?"

Myra frowned slightly, ignoring his question; instead she sent off a pigeon or two with some messages. Now was as good a time as any to see if any of the scholars she'd hired had found any information for her.

Something else caught her eye in the sky, as she released a third pigeon... A raven. Its hoarse call resounded over the forest as it circled above the Silver Arrow. Absently, she set her hand on her quiver. All the arrows held within were made by her own hand, and fletched with the feathers of those accursed birds that were sent as spies for Khellenduras.

Myra strung her bow, watching the bird circle.

Maligor and a female friend of his, Alyzia watched the bird overhead, as Myra paced. "If it bothers you that much, shoot it down," Alyzia said.

Myra frowned and hesitated... Taking an arrow from her quiver, she notched it and drew back, taking careful aim. One shot was all it took, and the raven fell to the ground with a thud, Myra's black fletched arrow protruding from its body.

"That oughta get his attention."

Myra looked down at the dead raven near her feet. Stooping over, she lifted it, using the arrow as a handle. At that same moment, she felt a familiar presence nearby.

Khellenduras himself stepped forward from within the dark shadow of a tree.

She hadn't really expected him to show up, but she recovered from her surprise quickly. "Got something for you." She tossed the dead raven to Khell's feet.

Khellenduras looked down at the dead bird, and then lifted his gaze to Myra. His eyes were still not eyes, but instead the cavernous sockets she remembered. She met his gaze, but could not help herself when she took a step away from his now more powerful presence. "It was annoying me." She said simply.

Everyone's eyes seemed to be on Khellenduras and Myra. Maligor and Galahad stepped forward, standing side by side in front of Myra... separating her from the lich.

You speak for the Grey Company when you reject my terms, elf...?

Myra pulled herself up to her full five foot and two inches of height. "I do."

Khellenduras took a step forward. The large bulk of Caramon Majere's warrior body dwarfed Myra's form in comparison. It was meant to be an intimidating move. It worked. Myra bit the inside of her lip, but stood her ground.

Khellenduras moved his hollow gaze to Ainuyr, the only other member of the Grey Company still present. Is this true...?

Ainuyr nodded his head just once in the affirmative. "Uma."

She saw Mike nod from the corner of her eye, and all hands but hers seemed to be on some kind of weapon, if not already holding one. Even Khellenduras brandished the antique war mace he'd had when he'd visited her last.

His emotionless, lifeless face turned again to Myra. With careful movements, almost painfully slow to behold, he settled the war mace into its ring on his belt. Myra's eyes strayed to the strange lantern he held in his other hand and in that instant... she knew it was the Lantern of the Wraith. She watched him carefully. When next he spoke again, his voice came slowly, but rolled like waves upon the rocks of a cliff.

You have answered for your kin, Myra. Therefore you shall be the first to face their fate.

Myra narrowed her eyes at him, momentarily forgetting the lantern. She was ready to spring on this lich and tear at his face with her bare hands. It was then that Khellenduras lifted the lantern. Immediately Myra's senses came back to her and her eyes widened. He really meant to kill her this time, with that.

Her voice was barely audible, "...you have it..."

The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet as time stood still, and yet everything seemed to happen at once. She heard blades being unsheathed around her, as she watched Khellenduras open the shutters of the lantern. Her eyes found the black flame that burned within. It was all she could see.

Myra felt the tendrils of coldness reaching into her. She didn't feel it with her body. No... she felt it with her spirit. They writhed and slithered, attaching to her and drawing her away from herself, a little at a time. Slowly, agonizingly slow. So this was the end, she thought. Somehow she wasn't frightened.

Nor was she about to give up to this lich.

"You..." her breathing was coming in gasps as the pain of her life draining away tore at her very being, "...will pa...aaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Myra dropped to her knees, doubling over with pain. The last time she'd cried out in pain was... When Khalin had stabbed her. Remembered pains combined with the agony of the lantern.

Khellenduras' empty eyes stared at Myra, and the flame of the lantern burned brighter as she collapsed to the ground.

The world began to grow fuzzy around the edges of her vision. She saw Maligor step directly between her and Khellenduras. And she heard Galahad's voice, "Stop!" She heard a sword whistle through the air before her world faded into nothing.

Myra fell unconscious and limp to the ground. Khellenduras reached out and grabbed Galahad by the throat, throwing him back and away, to the ground. He stared at Galahad for a moment.

Let this be a warning to your kind... I gave you a chance. Khellenduras kneeled a picked up the dead raven, and faded away into the ether.

Galahad struggled to his feet, snarled and charged at the quickly fading form of the lich, too late. With a curse, he turned to see the others gathering around Myra. Mike kneeled down next to her, nudging her lightly. At least she was still breathing.

***

Myra's head was pounding, and she felt someone nudging her lightly. Slowly she opened her eyes with a soft groan. She saw Ainuyr, Mike, Galahad, and Maligor standing around her. Ainuyr visibly relaxed when he saw her coming around again.

"Myra," Ainuyr asked, as everyone stood and stepped back to give her some room, "What did he just do....?"

Myra sat up slowly, using her hands to steady herself against the earth. "The lantern." A flurry of motion from the nearby forest caught her attention. A darkly dressed, and very dirty figure charged from the tree line to stand where Khellenduras has been.

"You!" cried Q'wellen, the black sword 'Wrath' in his hands.

"Q..Q'wellen?" Myra tried to struggle to her feet quickly. He was a danger to everyone here. Maligor leaned down to help steady her.

"WHERE IS HE!!!" Q'wellen's eye were wild with fury. Myra knew whom it was that he sought.

The groups resounded with comments confirming that the lich was gone. Vanished.

"I FELT HIM!!"

Myra finally made it to her feet. Crimson had moved closer to Q'wellen to get a better look at the sword he held. "Crimson... away..." Myra had to struggle to catch her breath again. There was little time to explain about the sword, if it had truly taken Q'wellen over.

"Coward!!" Q'wellen screamed into the evening air.

Crimson regarded Q'wellen. "Let me see your sword."

The sword began to glow black in Q'wellen's hands, red streaks running up the sides of the blade.

Myra stumbled forward. "Crimson!" She didn't want to have to confront the blade physically. She felt so... drained. (No pun intended)

Q'wellen seemed not to notice at first. "I will HAVE HIS HEAD!!"

Crimson looked to Myra, as Myra stumbled between her and Q'wellen. "What is wrong, Myra?"

Myra could only manage short sentences, as she was having a hard time keeping a grasp on a clear train of thought, her mind still fuzzy. "The sword. Wrath."

"ARGH!" Q'wellen cried out. His clothing was torn and dirty... He'd obviously been unwell during his time missing. "Where is the lich." he demanded.

Mike spoke up, "He is gone Q'wellen."

Myra fixed her eyes on Q'wellen. "I'll make a deal with you."

"Noooooooo!" Myra was uncertain if this outcry was to her offer, or the fact that the lich was gone.

Myra didn't care. She continued. "I can take you to the lich..."

The sword quavered in his hands.

"If you want the lich, all you have to do... is give me the sword. The hilt end, preferably, not the blade."

"He is 'ours'. Nice try witch! Q'wellen is mine"

Myra frowned, and weaved a little unsteadily on her feet; she let the wave of dizziness pass. "I doubt that." Now was hardly the time to show any weakness.

"...never... 'We' will defeat the lich, and prove 'we' belong together!" It was Q'wellen's voice, but the sword's words.

Myra took a step closer to Q'wellen. She was within arm's reach. "You cannot."

"....d..o... n..o.....t..." Q'wellen almost whimpered.

The blade rose in his hands before Myra in a battle ready position. She regarded the blade indifferently. "The worst you can do is kill me. Where will that leave you? He will be angry with you. You will never work in harmony then."

"You truly wish to challenge my control, Shadowwalker?"

"Not your control."

She heard Maligor moving slowly forward somewhere behind her. She put a hand out in his direction, hoping he'd take it as a sign to stay where he was.

Q'wellen still voiced the words of the sword, "I will rip out our guts and force 'him' to watch."

"Stronger have tried, Wrath." Myra was careful to keep her voice strong, steady.

Crimson spoke quietly beside her, "Myra, he will not listen. He is possessed by the sword."

"Uma, sintamin." Myra replied quietly, watching a sweat break out on Q'wellen's forehead. The strain of his mental battles with the sword was showing.

"...I... fight... on... 'Ghost..." Q'wellen's voice came low, then louder, "NO!!" He dropped to his knees in pain, clutching his arm.

Myra took a step back to give him some space, and to keep her legs from being cut open. "You fail blade."

"I will not fail."

"You will."

"He cannot care that much!!" Ethereal electricity coursed through Q'wellen's body, an outward show of his inner conflict. "ARGH!!!"

Myra narrowed her eyes, watching Q'wellen. The waves of pain stopped and Q'wellen...no, Wrath, regarded her with a sinister glint in his eyes. "A new strategy. I will make you watch me kill him. And delight in both your agony."

Myra regarded him coldly. "Do you think it would trouble one such as I, blade?"

"I have lived for centuries, do you think I cannot defeat him eventually?"

"He would be free of you, and you would fail." Myra paused to listen as Crimson leaned over to whisper to her. "I can paralyze him, ye take the blade from his grasp." Myra continued, "And I would take you myself."

"His spirit will be mine to torment, little elfling."

"And what would you do in my hands, blade?"

"I will break him and force his precious guild to watch."

"Q'wellen." Myra's voice was softer, coaxing, repeating his name. "Q'wellen..."

"...I am here!..." He stumbled, regaining control of himself.

Crimson urged him to give her the sword.

"Do not touch me Crimson, I fight by the second for control. Your attacks provoke Wrath's strength."

"Throw it... destroy it..." Crimson urged him.

"I can't. ...."

Myra stepped closer, her voice quiet. "I would take it, for you. Far from you." Myra really didn't know what she'd do with it, but she knew she had to get it away from Q'wellen.

"I try..." Q'wellen began to cry. "The... pain."

Myra held out her hand toward him.

Crimson whispered softly to Q'wellen, "Give it to her Q'wellen."

"I... fight... for.... You cannot Q'wellen ...I... fight... for... MYRA!" Q'wellen flung the sword from him, and it landed near the wall of the Silver Arrow.

With a short burst of energy, she weaved her way between people, and quickly grabbed the sword from the ground, while the others stared in near-disbelief. She didn't have time to blush at his outburst. She muttered to herself, "Gonna regret this come morning..."

Crimson was speaking to her, but she could barely hear, for the wave of energy that passed through her at holding the sword. Quickly she wrapped the sword in her spare cloak and put it into her magical bag.

Suggestions came at her from all directions, but she didn't hear them. She watched as Q'wellen collapsed to the ground in tears. Pushing even the faint whispering protests of the blade aside in her mind, she spoke quietly, "Q'wellen..."

"Give me the sword! I must have it! It wants me! We will stop Khellenduras, WE!!" Q'wellen sprung to his feet as Myra circled him.

"I cannot do that Q'wellen." She regarded him quietly.

He stepped forward, grabbing her violently. "Give it to me!"

"Do you want the lich? Let me go."

Blood began to seep from beneath his chest armor, and pool around his feet. The old wound Khellenduras had caused in his chest had reopened. His grip on her relaxed. "Myra... my dear Myra..." He clutched his chest. "Lle saved me... but my time is short I fear." His breath was growing more shallow, the blood more profuse.

"I will make him fix what he's done..." Myra vowed, her eyes wrought with worry as she looked at Q'wellen, not knowing what to do.

"Too late... Lady Veil is... last hope." He was breathing heavily now, fighting for each gasp.

Myra looked almost franticly at the others, "Where is the Lady Veil!?"

Mike spoke up quietly, "She has retired for the evening..."

Q'wellen looked at Myra, his eyes pleading, desperate, "I must face him now, while there is still time."

Myra was at a loss, she should tell him no, she knew... but she couldn't. "I know where one might be... that may know where he is... if that is what you wish..." She didn't want to come out and say that Andrew's abode was now a temple to Khellenduras.

"One thing before I face him..." Q'wellen stepped up close to Myra. Putting an arm around the small of her back, he pulled her up against him and kissed her deeply, passionately, just as he had always wanted. "Amin mela lle, Arwen. Take me to him, now."

Myra stared at Q'wellen for a moment. She'd known he harbored feelings for her but... that outpouring was... She blinked the thoughts away, not really thinking about what she was doing. She pulled a rune from a pocket on her pack. "M..maligor...? A gate...?"

He consented and a portal of shimmering blue light appeared in the midst of a snowdrift on Dagger Island.

Myra pushed through the gate, and through the snowdrift that lay on the other end. A small tower loomed over them to the south of the gate. She waited for the others to come through and motioned to the tower. "This is... Andrew's home." Q'wellen stepped up beside her, his expression grim. Quietly, "I will face him alone."

They rounded the side of the building to be greeted by a sentry at the door. Myra looked at him quizzically. "Hail..." she greeted the guard in the common tongue.

He nodded to her in greeting, "Be you a follower of Khellenduras....?"

Myra eyed the mace in his hands, and then looked up at the tower, frowning slightly. She looked back to Q'wellen. He didn't even acknowledge the sentry, he just stared at the tower with his normal scimitar in his hand, gripping and regripping the hilt.

"Yes, yes we are..."

"Welcome then. Feel free to seek refuge from the cold here, in the house of Our God."

Those words sent shivers up Myra's spine. The guard opened the door, allowing Q'wellen to pass. Ainuyr touched Myra's arm, "Should we wait?"

Myra looked into the tower entryway. Q'wellen was calling out, "KHELLENDURAS!!!"

"Come in... please," she said quietly to the others. She did not want Q'wellen to be alone in there, but she didn't want to be the only one with him either, should the lich actually be here.

Q'wellen climbed the stairs into the second room, his eyes searching for any sign of Khellenduras. Myra motioned the others after her. Standing to the side of the room was another man, staring at a large painting on the wall. A painting of Khellenduras...

Myra greeted him, drawing his attention away from the painting. The sage took his eyes from the painting, nodding politely to Myra. "Welcome to the Temple, friend."

Myra gestured to the painting. It was a likeness of Khellenduras, crushing someone's skull with his antiqued war mace. "What is that painting of...?" she asked quietly, while the others look around the room.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It depicts the god Khellenduras smiting an infidel...one of the heathen elves."

"Elves?!" the words sprung to Myra's tired lips before she thought about them.

The sage didn't seem to notice that a handful of the new visitors were of that race; he seemed entranced with the painting. "A fell race... I've heard rumors the Legion is forming an offensive against them."

Myra nodded her thanks to the man and quickly moved away from him. She turned her attention back to the group in the room. Q'wellen was speaking; the blood now had soaked his entire tunic.

"You must all leave."

Ainuyr protested with logic, "And let you alone, in your condition?" The pool of blood about Q'wellen's feet was slowly growing.

"Tonight it ends between us..." Q'wellen turned his gaze to Mike, as Myra stepped back into a corner near Q'wellen, blending in with the shadows there. "You must tell the guild... I'm not sure I can stop him... You all must leave..."

Mike nodded his consent and acceptance of Q'wellen's wishes. "I will tell them Q'wellen." Mike offered Q'wellen a calm smile.

Q'wellen put a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Diola lle, mellon'amin." Mike rested his hand on Q'wellen's, reassuringly.

"I feel him coming." Q'wellen looked around the room. "Get outta here."

Myra did not try to cloak herself in the shadows now, but merely stood there, her eyes staring sadly at the floor.

Ainuyr shook his head. "It doesn't seem right..." He moved reluctantly to the stairs.

"It is alright, guild'friend. Pass word to the guild, I do this for them."

Just as the last of them traveled down the stairs, Myra moved to the top of the stairwell.

A shiver passed over her as the shadows pulled away from even the corner she stood in. The dark particles formed together, and from them stepped the form of Khellenduras. He spoke two words in Myra's direction. Leave him.

Myra stood in place, watching the horrific scene unfolding before her eyes.

Khellenduras stepped forward, smirking at Q'wellen.

"...Q'wellen..." Myra's eyes were riveted on what was happening, and she felt as if she were watching in a dream. Her arms were heavy and her feet felt weighted to the spot. She was close enough, that if she could lift her arm, she could touch Q'wellen.

Let him die if he wishes.

Q'wellen did not look her way, but must have felt her anguish in being unable to act. "Goodbye, Mela." were his final words as he rushed toward Khellenduras, blade held high.

Khellenduras lifted a hand and Q'wellen flew back against the wall. It took but a moment for Q'wellen to regain his feet, ignoring any injury that may have been done to him, and charge at the lich again. Khellenduras' face twisted into a horrid mockery of amusement as he again lifted his hand and flung the elven bladesinger back. Struggling to his feet again, Q'wellen gripped his sword firmly with both hands.

Myra could feel the energy in the air, and finally took note of the lantern in Khellenduras' hands. He could end this quickly, but he wanted to toy with Q'wellen. She could hear shouts from downstairs and, for just a moment, turned her gaze out the window.

Snow was drifting softly to the ground, a stark contrast to the energy and rage in the room in which she stood. On the horizon she could see banners... and forms marching. Soon she discerned they were orcs, bearing the banner of... The Raven! Khellenduras!

Her eyes snapped back to the scene in the room. Q'wellen's sword was whirling through the air in front of him, and his eyes were locked on the form of Khellenduras across the room from him. Myra recognized one of the techniques of the Megilindir, the Bladesinger.

Downstairs, cries erupted as the soldiers of Khellenduras attacked the rest of the group. Khellenduras smiled, a cold, emotionless smile, as part of his Legion heeded his call. All the while, Q'wellen was relying on his Bladesinger training; he began to hum softly, advancing on Khellenduras.

At the moment that Khellenduras turned his attention to acknowledging the arrival of the orcish band, Q'wellen made his move. He stepped in, sweeping his curved blade in an arch. The blade slipped between Khellenduras' breast plate and paldron (shoulder covering) and sliced deep into the lich's flesh. Just as smoothly as it made the cut, Q'wellen was back at the ready.

In response, Khellenduras' eyes flared with unholy red light, and he lifted the lantern, opening its shutter. As Q'wellen grew weaker he whispered his last words to her, "For... love... Myra." The black flame flared, and Q'wellen fell to the floor. The lantern glowed more brightly, but Khellenduras snapped the shutter closed.

Myra could see that Q'wellen was still breathing... all she had to do was... grab him and run. She could take him from here, save him from Khellenduras. But her feet would not respond, and her voice would not come.

Khellenduras lowered the lantern and walked over to Q'wellen's limp form. With one hand he lifted the unconscious elf from the floor. Myra could only glare at Khellenduras, fighting back the tears in her eyes, as she watched him move in for the kill.

"Myra! You should go now!" Mike called from downstairs, where the orcs were successfully being held off. She could only lift a hand to signal for none of them downstairs to come up. He would kill them too, for certain.

Khellenduras lifted Q'wellen's body high into the air, waves of electricity passing from the lich's grasp through the body of the elf. Myra finally managed to force the words out, "...you will pay for this..."

Voices came from downstairs. "Get her down from there." "Pull her down." Crimson... And Galahad, "Come, Myra..." "Too much has happened tonight." But she could hardly hear them over the roar in her ears. One voice cut through the anguish in her mind, as easily as cold steel...

My legions are on their way. This is only one battalion. Run while you can.

"Galahad, grab her! Pull her down!" Crimson was imploring him. She knew Galahad was only a few steps down from her. But she stared at the lifeless body of Q'wellen A'thori, not caring. "Leave me be."

Her eyes moved to glare at Khellenduras.

You entered my temple...

The urgent pleas from below grew. Mike insisted, "Get her! NOW!" Galahad called to her, "Myra, now!" and he grabbed for her arm. But at that moment, Khellenduras lifted a hand and Myra was lifted into the air. Shadows coalesced about her and she fell into a snowdrift.

She sat there, staring at the white expanse, stained with blood before her. Remnants of Q'wellen's blood on her own armor, from when he had pulled her near in an embrace. She looked down at her hands.

Q'wellen A'thori's blood was on her hands.

Someone helped Myra up and Crimson opened a gate. Myra didn't know where she was going and didn't care. Her mind was still in shock. Q'wellen was dead. Dead. In front of her own eyes, and she had stood by and done nothing! Nothing...

"Myra, what happened?" Maligor's voice came through the haze of her thoughts.

"He... killed him."

"Who killed who?"

Myra didn't need to answer, Mike did for her, "Khell killed Q'wellen..."

Myra moved to the doors of the stable, where Q'wellen and his cousin, Faelen were living.

Crimson watched Myra. "Tell me you did not expect this.." The statement was a question, a hope.

But Myra could not give birth to that hope. She'd known. Deep inside she'd known that Q'wellen couldn't have taken Khellenduras. Not in combat. "...I expected it."

Crimson changed the direction of the conversation delicately. "What are you going to do with the blade, Myra?" She looked worried, though Myra really didn't notice. The world moved on around her, but she was frozen in time, her eyes focused on nothing physical as Q'wellen's death replayed in her mind.

"...I have found some studies on it..." was all she could say, her hollow gaze staring through Crimson. "...I will find something..."

"If it comes to possess you as it did him, I will tear it from you. I will not lose another to its wrath."

"...an artifact... I..." she couldn't say anything else. Her mind was not here.

She vaguely heard Maligor... "I say we go back to his place and torch it..."

Ainuyr touched her arm lightly to gain her fleeting attention. "Myra... I am sorry..." Myra only nodded. Her expression was blank. He took his hand from her arm. "I must go. This has been a dark night indeed. One that shall not be forgotten."

The latch to the door of the stable lifted and the door came open. Out stepped Faelen. Myra immediately lowered her eyes to her feet, the sadness threatening to overwhelm her. She refused to shed tears.

"What's wrong Arwen'amin?" Worry crept into Faelen's voice.

"...Q'wellen." She lifted her haunted eyes to look at Faelen.

"Lle found him?"

"Uma..."

"Well, what did you find?" He looked around at the oddly silent, grim faces. "What happened?"

"He came..." Myra could not bear to relate what had happened, a lump formed in her throat. "...he's dead." she managed to whisper.

"He was here...." He stumbled over his own words, nearly falling over. "What?"

Myra turned her eyes back to the ground with an anguish-ridden frown. "Khellenduras."

"Myra, are lle sure?" Faelen couldn't believe it.

"...I saw it..."

"Is it true? Was it Khell?"

"...I watched him do it."

Faelen fell to his knees, staring at Myra, not believing what he was hearing. "Was it Wrath? Or was it Q?"

Myra shook her head slightly, "I... the blade was away from him."

"How, when? You all freed him?"

Myra's eyes moved to the patch of earth that had been disturbed by the sword's landing. "He threw it... away from himself."

"I knew he could do it..." Faelen's words were proud, but heavy with grief.

Myra looked around at the forest. Where once she saw the beauty of spring blooming around her, she now saw a mockery of her life. Again she would be denied spring, trapped forever in her dark winter. "Can... we go sit inside?" She looked almost pleadingly at those still gathered.

"But how did he die..? ...uma, of course" Faelen moved to open the doors for everyone.

Myra went to move toward the doors when The Shadow appeared. "Most tragic."

".... You." Myra looked at him, a dead, hollow look.

"I do so mourn for your loss."

"...do not patronize me." Myra's voice was empty, but held the edge of a threat.

The Shadow laughed. "Why didn't you save him? Shadowwalker..."

Her given title hung heavily in the air. She clenched her fists and spoke very quietly, the edge growing sharper in her voice, her eyes sparking with rage. "I'll gouge your eyes out with my bare hands."

Myra heard a chuckle from somewhere near the wood line, but didn't look. "Such.. spirit", came a female voice.

All sound was drowned out by the roaring that rose in her ears. She fought hard to keep down the threatening tears of despair and anger. Galahad moved into her line of sight, putting the tip of his sword against The Shadow's helm.

"I wonder if I can drive this through that ugly helm."

"Galahad." The Shadow took a step back. Galahad followed with the tip of his sword. "You did well this evening, Galahad."

Galahad didn't care to hear what The Shadow had to say, "You are not welcome here. Or anywhere else. Silence." Galahad forced The Shadow back further. "You are done here."

Maligor's voice broke through the roaring again, "Don't take your anger against the lich out on The Shadow... His time will come soon enough, I reckon."

Myra looked at the two men, as The Shadow parried Galahad's sword away from his head. "No more bloodshed tonight." She didn't want to see anymore. She put a hand on Gal's shoulder.

"Does The Shadow bleed, I wonder?" Galahad asked rhetorically. "I don't think so."

The Shadow replied, in his cool collective manner, "I bleed, but how many will bleed if I do?"

Myra frowned at them both, and she could see Galahad seething with anger.

"Gal," came Maligor's voice again, "We don't need another tragedy, there is nothing we can do right now."

Myra moved her hand from his shoulder, stepping around beside him, resting her hand instead on his arm. "Gal, please..."

The Shadow paid them no mind, looking only at Galahad. "You won this evening, Galahad. I give you your victory."

"My victory will be your head," Galahad retorted.

"But I can see that Myra is upset." Myra moved her gaze to The Shadow as he continued, "And it would be rude to upset her more."

Myra stopped listening until she heard her name spoken again. She stared unseeing at the ground. The first voice she heard was The Shadow...

"Goodbye Myra."

She looked at him. "For now." She knew this was not the last she'd see of him.

His gaze moved past her to the patch of disturbed earth where the dark sword had fallen. "Go celebrate your victory. Be it ever so hollow."

Myra replied simply, "My night has been neither." as she trudged through the open doors into the Arrow.

[There is a 'peanut gallery' from here forward. I didn�t want to leave out their 'nonimportant' comments, because they made the night VERY enjoyable. The peanut gallery consisted of... The Shadow, Maligor the Red, Alyzia, occasionally Faelen. Enjoy!]

Myra slouched on a barstool. Galahad moved about, setting toppled stools back at the bar, picking up strewn about bottles. Faelen sat beside her.

"Tell me Arwen, I need to know what happened."

Myra answered questions as they came at her. She didn't want to think about it, so the truth was what she told.

"The lantern."

"And yet you live?"

"...he won't kill me."

"But he killed Q."

Faelen was obviously confused, but Myra didn't know how to explain to Faelen that the lich would not kill her because he got joy in seeing her suffer. Death would be the sweetest release for her.

"He used the lantern to kill Q?"

"Xas," the word slipped out, her mind wandering. "Er, uma... yes."

"Oh really..." Faelen had only a moment to ponder the slip of her tongue before The Shadow walked into the Arrow.

"I came to apologize."

Myra slowly turned around.

"It was most rude of me to belittle what happened. I am sorry."

Myra nodded only slightly. She felt physically drained from the encounter with Khellenduras and his lantern, and emotionally strained from the rest of the evening's events. In her hands was an unopened bottle of Fey. How had that gotten there? Oh, yes, Faelen handed it to her, she remembered. "Diola lle."

Paying no mind to the others as The Shadow moved past her to take a seat, she stood, and walked to look out the window behind the Bard's Chair. Galahad came and stood beside her, squeezing her hand. "No." She managed to return the squeeze, weakly.

Myra heard Faelen threatening to throw The Shadow out again, the Fey obviously running his mouth for him. Over her shoulder, she quietly stated, "He is welcome here so long as he behaves, Faelen. It is... the way it is."

Galahad echoed her sentiments. "It is." Then he whispered goodnight in her ear and recalled away. Myra stood there for long moments, not moving, just staring out the window.

Faelen moved over near her, "Are you ok?"

"...I'm fine."

Just then the door opened and the springtime evening breeze brought with it the heavy scent of nightshade. Myra did not need to turn to see that it was K'ryn Nor at the door.

"You should have heeded my warnings. It's your fault your friend died."

Myra turned, narrowing her eyes at K'ryn. "Shut up."

"I warned you. You chose to ignore my warnings. His death is on YOUR head."

Myra took a threatening step toward K'ryn. "Shut. Up."

A laugh that had started on the other side of the bar suddenly stopped.

"You are as responsible as if you had slain him yourself."

"Lady... back off!" Faelen stepped forward as Myra hissed her displeasure at K'ryn.

"Ah... one of the beggar boys," K'ryn smirked at him. "Want her to share your bed too?"

"Actually no. Not my type."

"Yes... you are rather... alive. She prefers the dead type."

Myra's voice was low, and the expression she wore was a dark one. "I'll cut out your tongue, wench. Given half the chance."

K'ryn chuckled. "You and which army? Strongbow?"

"I don't need any of them."

"Myra..." Faelen spoke her name.

Myra turned back to look out the window. "No one."

"Oh yes, that's right. You willingly served each of them. You served Trenton because you love him."

Myra cringed. Faelen was shocked, "WHAT?!"

K'ryn was heedless of either response. "You served the Lich... because you lusted for the power he could give you."

"Get out, now!"

Faelen seemed quite sober now. K'ryn looked at him. "Does she deny it? Does she?"

Myra's cheeks flushed red.

"I think Q would argue that point..." Faelen offered.

"Your Q... what a fool he was... ruled by the loins."

"If he were here..."

"And a lust for one who would have used him and sold him."

"Hardly."

"But he's not... he's dead. By her hand."

The female with Maligor and The Shadow, Alyzia spoke, "He'd throw himself in front of another lich for her?"

"Or close enough." Myra turned to stare at K'ryn at that comment.

Faelen quipped in, "Aye he would, and proudly, because he saw what you all did not."

K'ryn looked back at Myra, gloating. "How many more will die for you?"

"No more." Myra said quietly. "No more for me."

"How many more of your precious elves will you sacrifice?"

["No, now she's moving on to the humans."]

It was The Shadow's turn. "A good question Myra... How many more? Galahad?"

Myra's eyes moved to The Shadow. Her head began to swim; there was too much happening at once for her to keep up.

She heard Faelen talking over them "Q'wellen was an honorable elf. His love for the Arwen was pure. If hers was not is not the point."

"Your Q'wellen was a fool. She would have betrayed him as easily as she betrayed Mord and Khell. As easily as she betrayed your precious Glade."

"I never betrayed Trenton," Myra's gaze leveled on K'ryn.

"Didn't you?"

"N'uma, I never betrayed him." Myra stopped, realizing that what she said was too terribly true. She paled slightly, frowning.

"Never?" asked The Shadow.

"...I never betrayed him." Myra said quietly.

K'ryn stepped up to Faelen as Myra turned back to the window. "You are a fool. You and your elven ilk. She will be the death of you all. I warned her about the temple. And she said not a word to any."

"Are you sure I'm the fool? Or are you afraid of the truth? I'm curious," Faelen prodded at K'ryn verbally, "How does it feel to travel the world... alone."

K'ryn drew herself up to her whole five feet of height before the half elf. "I am not alone."

Myra spoke quietly. "He is the lich's. Andrew is his." But her words were left seemingly ignored as Faelen continued.

"Darkness begets only darkness."

Maligor spoke from across the bar, "Myra, where is the sword?" Myra looked at him, and mouthed the words "I have it" behind Faelen's back.

K'ryn and Faelen still stood toe to toe. "Ah, your Myra is darkness. Her soul is not her own."

"She walks a path," Faelen replied. "Her choice. Just as we all have a choice." K'ryn rolled her shoulders in a shrug at him.

The Shadow addressed Myra, "Tucked away safely within your own darkness? Do you hear its voice?"

Myra closed her eyes, turning back to the window. Again came The Shadow's voice. "You do."

K'ryn stepped back. "So be it. I will no longer warn the glade of my discoveries. Q'wellen's death is on her head. As is the destruction of the elves. By the by Myra..." K'ryn stepped out the door. "Watch your back." With that, she pulled the door closed behind her and was gone.

Myra looked back out the window, dismissing K'ryn's warning. "What is she going to do? Kill me? Hah!" She frowned out the window.

Faelen, perhaps in an attempt to be funny added, "There's a line, so she can wait, hah!"

Myra was morbidly amused at that thought. "Uma, there is a line."

She stared out into the budding forest for a long while. Behind her she heard someone enter, and heard Mely's voice.

Faelen broke the bad news to Mely. "Q'wellen is dead. Khell got him apparently. He has the lantern apparently."

"What was Q'wellen doing there? Lantern?"

Myra sighed quietly.

"Not sure myself. Only Myra knows." Faelen gestured to Myra.

Myra took a breath and just began reciting what had happened as if it were a school lesson to be memorized. "The sword was removed from his possession."

"I'm not surprised," Mely commented about "only Myra knows". "Sword?"

Myra pushed on, her voice quiet. "An old wound opened in his chest. He was... slowly dying."

Mely blanched, almost falling from her new mare. "Wait... wound? Did it go down his chest?"

"...uma. He said Khell did it."

"Khalin has... a similar wound... Mord'sythe did it..."

It was Myra's turn to blanche at the mention of Mord'sythe and Khalin. "He wanted to face Khellenduras. So we went to Andrew's home. And Khellenduras has a temple there now. Another temple."

"I must go." The Shadow spoke up, standing.

"...have a good evening Shadow," Myra turned to look at him.

"Oh, I shall. And I shall see you later."

Myra only nodded, as if she were resigned to the fact that she would indeed see The Shadow again, whether she wished it or not. Then she felt Mely's eyes on her.

"You ... you didn't stop him, did you?"

"...n'uma."

"Why?"

"There wasn't anything I could do anyway. He used the lantern..."

"But did you try?" Faelen asked, as Mely murmured quietly to herself.

Myra lifted her chin resolutely. "N'uma. I stood there and watched." It was what they wanted to hear, after all. They wanted someone to blame.

"He was in love with you," Mely pointed out. "If anyone could have persuaded him, you could have."

Myra did not pause in her dry recollection of events. "He lifted his body from the ground and called lightning down from the sky to kill him."

Faelen looked at her in shock. "You watched him leave for Khellenduras'." There was the accusation she was waiting for.

"N'uma. I took him to Khellenduras. It is what he wanted." She looked at neither of them.

Faelen's eyes grew wide, "You did what!"

Alyzia spoke from the other side of the room. "Then she was right."

"He was dying." Myra stated, as if that would answer anyone's questions.

Mely looked over to the woman Alyzia, "Who was right?"

"The dark one that was just here."

Faelen was still staring at Myra, "Myra, why? Dying? Are you sure?"

Myra did not reply to his questions.

Adding to Alyzia's comment, Faelen addressed Mely, "There was a dark lady here. She said Q's death was Myra's fault."

Mely looked to Myra. "The alchemist?"

Myra nodded once, "K'ryn."

"She mentioned a warning? That wasn't heeded? Nor mentioned to anyone else?" Alyzia offered, 'helpfully'.

Mely was still looking at Myra, "Warning?"

Myra turned to stare out the window again.

Faelen insisted on a full explanation.

"Myra?" Mely prompted her.

Myra took a slow breath, and began reciting the events as dryly as before. "Khellenduras killed him." Deciding that was enough of an explanation, Myra simply fell silent.

Faelen sounded a little upset; "You forgot to mention earlier that you took him to Khell."

But Myra was listening more to Mely. Mely had always been her greatest "adversary" within the Glade... Ever since Baal'morda... "But you did nothing to help him? You who have done nothing but study the lich?"

Myra took a breath; this would be so much simpler if she started at the beginning, perhaps. "Andrew came here. I rejected Khell's offer of 'peace', as it was decided at the Company meeting. Khellenduras came shortly after Andrew left. He had the lantern. ... he used it on me."

"And you live." Faelen interjected. He was growing more belligerent toward Myra.

"The lich won't kill me," Myra repeated.

"Go figure, another suitor." Faelen snipped. "Oh, sorry, that slipped."

Mely asked, "Because you served him?"

Myra glared at each of them. "No. Because he wants to see me suffer. Ask him. He'll tell you." Myra smiled to herself. "Death would be a release. So he won't kill me."

"Because you attempted to betray him?" Mely inquired, "Or because of...."

"His reasons are his own. He used the lantern on me and left." Myra pressed on, growing weary. "Shortly after he left, Q'wellen rushed from the woods. With Wrath in hand. He said he sensed Khellenduras. We convinced him to be rid of the sword and while he had control Q'wellen threw the blade away from himself. It was then that the wound in his chest opened."

The questions came then, first from Mely, "Myra, what information did you give the lich, about Mord'sythe?"

And then from Faelen, "Where is the blade now?"

Myra used Mely's question to dodge answering Faelen's. "He knows only the information that Sythe sent himself." She stared out the window.

Faelen prodded, "So his wound opened... and then?"

"He said the Lady Veil was his last hope. But insisted I take him... to find Khellenduras."

"And you took him..."

"He asked it of me."

Faelen was almost afraid to ask, "Did...did you see him die?"

"I couldn't deny him that." She nodded once to his question.

["Hmm, I should think of something good to ask her for."]

She could hear the frown in Mely's voice, "Why couldn't you deny him, Myra? You have no problem doing that to others."

"I don't deny those who need my help."

"He needed you to talk sense into him. Instead, you took him to his death."

"Myra..." Faelen spoke a bit softer to her, "This is important... Did he die alone?"

"I was there."

"You were..." Faelen paused, staring at her.

Myra reached a hand out toward the window, her eyes distant. "I could have... touched him."

"Did he fight... or just die?"

"He fought." Myra lowered her hand back to her side. "He fought for all he could."

Mely's disgust was plain, "And you just stood there."

"I could not have helped him, or saved him."

Mely murmured just loud enough for Myra to hear, "Your declarations ring hollow Myra."

Myra tensed slightly, "There was nothing I could do."

"Just like there was nothing you could do... but join Mord'sythe."

"None of you know. None of you. I didn't go to him to join him."

Faelen didn't know what to make of Myra, "Is it true what the lady said...Do you love Mord?"

"None of you know anything of me!" Myra spun around, fire in her eyes. "Shut up Faelen. Don't you ever utter that again." Her cheeks flushed with color.

The Shadow spoke quietly to her outburst, "I know you."

["Methinks she doth protest too much"]

Mely frowned, "Myra, how many more excuses will you have?"

"I have no excuses. I do what I must do. I do what no one else will. To achieve the ends they all want."

"You do what you want for you benefit." Mely stated accusingly.

"Now that is a lie.. Q'wellen would have done anything for you."

"My benefit?!" The fire flared in Myra's eyes again. "You call this my benefit?" She gestured to Mely and Faelen, her standing inquisitors.

"You went willingly to Mord," Mely pointed out, "You went willingly to Khell."

"I went to help Azeron. Khellenduras came to me," Myra countered.

"N'uma, YOU wanted power"

"I want nothing of what they offer! Nothing!" Myra's voice rose with each word, "I want my life back!" Her voiced died back down. "...but I can't have it."

"You willingly gave them your life. You have no life."

Myra turned back to the window. "I have a life. Two, maybe three."

The Shadow seemed to have heard her statement. "One of Darkness...."

"Careful, Mely," Faelen warned her, "Accusations are one thing but she is still of the blood."

Mely looked to Faelen, "You have not suffered at her hands as I have. She is not fully of the blood. She has betrayed her people easily enough."

["Popcorn would be a good food item for the expansion"]

"Do you declare her cast out?" Faelen questioned Mely.

"I do not have that power. Only the Council does. She's always had Strongbow's protection."

"N'Tel'Quess... They denied it once, did they not, Mely?" Myra mused.

"Because Strongbow was convinced you could be saved. If it comes to a vote again, Myra, I will cast mine."

Myra half shrugged. "You are the only one that would see me burnt."

["Is there a limit on dead elves before being cast out?" "I think 6"]

"Am I? You attempted to kill your lover. You attacked Khalin. You attacked others and were allowed to remain."

Myra spun back around. "I attacked Khalin?! N'uma...but I did try to kill Ian. I did stab Aramir. I never attacked Khalin, he attacked me."

["Ian doesn't count. Who hasn't tried to kill him?" "I wouldn't count him either"]

Mely didn't listen. "You betrayed your people. Repeatedly. And now... now you are responsible for Q'wellen's death."

Myra growled very quietly. "Shut up."

Silence reigned for a few moments. Mely and Myra looked at one another. "What would you have had me do?" Myra asked Mely.

"Tis too late for what you should have done; the question is what will you do now?"

"The lich will die. And so will Trenton."

"And you?"

"Once I am done with them... I will fade to nothing. You will not be troubled with me." She waved a hand through the air before her. "Gone."

"I still believe you did not slay the daemon." Mely said as she stormed out of the Arrow.

Faelen turned to Myra. "He loved you, so I will be there for you whether I like it or not."

Myra spared only a glance at Faelen before taking a seat. "Do not trouble yourself."

["I come for the drama. And stay for the hot women. Woo Hoo!" "Hear Hear!" "Hey we can form our own Mystery Science Theatre"]

"It isn't any trouble. I just don't get you."

"It is. You'd be best to remove yourself from any involvement with me." Myra folded her arms.

"You are stubborn," Faelen commented. "I'll give you that."

"She is Darkness." The Shadow interjected.

"Shut up Skeletor." [I couldn�t decide if that qualified for Peanut Gallery or not.]

"What do you want of me Faelen?"

Alyzia cut in, "To fall at your feet in front of a lich? That�s what most males want of you, isn't it?"

"I offer all that I can to you Myra," Faelen ignored the woman. "An ear, a helping hand, a shoulder."

Myra frowned. "I don't need any of that. None of it." She paced to the other side of the room.

"Twenty gold says he's next." The Shadow nodded at Faelen.

"My bet's on Galahad." Alyzia grinned.

"Good bet," remarked The Shadow.

"I don't need any of that." Myra turned to The Shadow and Alyzia. "And he will not."

"Oh, but he will." The Shadow countered, moving to sit on the stool next to where Myra stood.

Myra turned slowly, and leaned close to The Shadow. "Not for me, he won't."

"Galahad has fallen under your spell. I want to see him suffer."

Alyzia offered some more 'helpful' comments, "Oh c'mon girlie. You know he will. He was ready to go after the skull for you tonight."

Myra glanced over her shoulder, then back to The Shadow. The Shadow nodded to Alyzia's comment. "That he did."

"Then I'll have to fix that." Myra said coldly.

"Can you?" The Shadow challenged. "He will need to cast you from his heart. He cannot."

"There are things that can be done." Myra stood back up, looking out the nearby window. "He will." She smiled sadly.

"Men are drawn to you. And then they die for you."

"The more you push him away, the more he'll pursue, just to find out what's wrong."

"Myra, you're just too gosh darn cute... Galahad won't be able to leave."

["Its a curse of being a single elf in Tel'Ruid" "I didn't notice that marital status had much to do with that sort of stuff"]

Faelen spoke quietly to Myra. "You should rest, to be ready in case you have to face him again."

"Ah, the next round!" The Shadow, at least, seemed amused.

"Why me." Myra sounded tired. Weary.

"Because of who you are." Faelen offered.

"Because you are touched by Darkness."

"Touched? She embraces it. And it embraces her."

"It is a part of me, yes." Myra acknowledged it. She'd known it for sometime.

Myra paced back to the western window. Mely returned...

Closing her nightmare, Aikanaro in the back room, Mely started upon Myra quickly.

"Myra? What happened with Trenton... didn't he want you the way you wanted him?"

Myra clenched her fists.

Melyanna tilted her head. "Did he prefer the little girl to you? Perhaps... Perhaps he didn't like... other peoples' discards?" She leaned back against the door.

["That completely lost me." "You go lost just now?" "Trenton is also known as Mord'sythe *points to the program*" "Hey! I need one of those!" "Get your own"]

Mely seemed to be trying to get some kind of reaction out of Myra. "Perhaps you weren't woman enough for him Myra?"

[Myra lost connection. "I suspect she finally snapped." "*rewinds the soap*" "As the Elf Turns"]

Myra gritted her teeth.

["Well speaking as an evil dude, we prefer young ones. They haven't been corrupted as much. We mold them into what we want them to be and then move on."]

"What do you want, Mely."

"The truth. Something you aren't willing to give."

"My... relation with Trenton is none of your concern."

"Isn't it? Do you betray the Glade to him... just to sneak into his bed? Or do you pine for his touch?"

Myra's cheeks flushed, in a blush.

["Ooh, that was close to the mark"]

"Well Myra? Or is it that he won't let you back into his bed?"

"I was never in his bed." Myra's voice was very low.

"Ah hah! So you didn't get what you wanted."

"That isn't what I wanted." Myra's voice had lowered to a whisper.

"Isn't it?"

"I went to free Azeron from the Affliction he took from you."

Mely flinched at that. "Yes... but you did that because you wanted the power it offered you. You love Trenton, admit it."

Myra glared at Melyanna. Anger, anguish, and despair... so many emotions tumbled through Myra at that moment. "Love is... not for me."

"Too close to home?"

"What would you know of love anyway, Mely? How many times have you been married?"

["Uh oh, here it comes." "The big guns are loaded now" "Uh oh."]

"At least I've been married. What happened to your lovers?"

["They died, I think we established that."]

"I've only had one," Myra replied quietly.

"One? Let's see... Glorfindle, Ian, Aramir, Trenton... Khell... Q'wellen?"

Myra clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides. Her anger was growing, beyond anything else and again the whispering from Wrath rose in her mind. "Just Glor..."

"Oh, wait... Glor didn't want you either."

["Damn, low blow!" "!!!" "Oh boy!" "Pass the popcorn"]

Before she could, or even wanted to think about it, Myra was drawing Wrath from where she'd hidden it in her pack.

[The Shadow walks over like Darth Vader or something, "I am your father"]

"He's much happier with Joylah, than he ever was with you Myra!"

Myra stepped forward, her rage blinding and deafening her to all else in the room. Inside she could feel walls breaking down. "You will take that back. Now."

Mely crossed her arms. "I don't believe I will."

"I will gut you where you stand. He loved me. Take it back, now!"

"Try it, and Aikanaro will have you for lunch."

Myra was trembling with rage.

"You weren't elf enough for Glor."

Myra growled, falling into the most basic fighting stance she knew. She stepped close to Mely, putting the sword's blade to her throat. "Take. It. Back."

"N'uma."

"Take it back!!" Myra screamed, as she swung the sword at Melyanna. The sword sliced through Mely's shirt, drawing blood on her arm. But Myra did not stop. She kept swinging, wanting only for Mely to take back her words, or to die with them.

Dodging some of Myra's unpracticed swings, Mely managed to bind her with magic.

Myra hissed, "Darthiir elg'carress!" Her drow accent was thick, and there was no spark of anything that was Myra ten minutes ago in her eyes.

"Now you have drawn blood." Mely looked at her bleeding arm.

Faelen was babbling something, but Myra saw only the darthiir bitch that had tried to bind her with her filthy surface magic! How dare she think to trap Myra so easily! The surface magic fell away from Myra, as she whispered a prayer... Myra took a step around Faelen, not caring who he was at the moment.

"Weak Darthiir magics," Myra hissed, prowling around to Melyanna's side.

"Myra stop!" Faelen implored her.

She hissed at him. "I'll have your tongue too, 'breed! You are not here to help me."

Again Melyanna bound Myra with magic. And again, it fell away quickly.

"Myra, fight the sword!"

"Why should I? What do I have to fight it for?"

"For Q'wellen, if nothing else. Or did he really mean nothing to you?"

["Q'wellen? Who's Q'wellen?"]

"Why should I listen to you?" Her drow accent was weakening. "None of you know, or care about me."

The Shadow approached Myra. "Myra. Give me the sword. It is obviously too powerful for you to control."

She laughed at him. "It offers me everything I want."

"Or do you enjoy losing control to the Darkness?" His hand was still out, for the sword.

["You and I both know he's grinning wildly beneath that helm."]

"It can have what is left!" Myra exclaimed. Myra's gaze fixed on Mely. "You'll take back your words or... ah!"

Faelen slapped her hard. Myra growled.

Mely glared back at Myra, "Never. I should simply let Aikanaro have at you."

Myra hissed. The Shadow stepped back out of the way as Myra began to circle Mely again. "Very well. Kill her. It's what you want. You know it. I know it [The crowd behind me knows it. "We -all- know it."]

While Myra was distracted by The Shadow's words and her own internal struggle, Melyanna gathered energy from the ether.

"Vas Ort Flam" The air erupted around Myra, setting her stumbling backward. The force was greater than the heat the weak spell caused.

"Darthiir elg'carress", Myra's thick drow accent had returned. "You and your weak magics...." Myra lunged forward at Melyanna, swinging at her mercilessly, intent on her death.

Mely reached behind her throwing open the door and her mare came trotting out.

["Miisssstaaaaake" "Uh oh" "The back up plan isn't working, is it?"]

Myra took a guarded step backward and hissed. "Hellspawn does not frighten me."

"Aikanaro ... kill." Mely said dryly, her eyes on Myra.

Myra may have been angry, and her mind may not have been her own, but survival was not ignored. She knew that she could not kill this beast with this sword. Pushing open the doors she sprinted along the front of the building to a nearby alcove. Pulling a shadow around her, she watched in silence as the abyssal nag passed her without notice.

Soon, she saw Melyanna pass by her. Myra had no idea if it had been minutes or hours... or days. The sword was back in her back and she felt... strange. She had wanted to hurt Melyanna, she knew. But only because of the hurtful words she'd spoken. Myra frowned, pushing the thoughts away. Once Mely had gone, Myra stepped from the shadows and went back inside the Arrow.

["Elves will do it anywhere." "Brings a whole new meaning to 'tree huggers' eh?"]

Faelen came up beside her as she moved to look out the western window once more. "Q was right... that is a nice sword."

"Leave me be." Myra was so lost in thought, she didn't even sense Faelen's motive as he gripped his hammer and pulled back his arm. Bringing it down with all his strength...onto Myra's head. She collapsed in a heap onto the Bard's Chair. Faelen made quick work of removing the sword from her possession.

["Well I guess that concludes tonight's Mystery Elven Theatre"]

When next Myra knew what was happening she was in what looked like a rune library, and her head was pounding.

Gal whispered to her, "Shh. This is my home. You are safe here."

"Where...?"

"You are sitting in my rune library." He dabbed a moist cloth on her forehead.

"How did...?"

"I found you unconscious in the Arrow... do you remember what happened?"

Myra touched the back of her head gingerly and then growled quietly, "Faelen."

Galahad helped her to sit up.

"...you should not have brought me here."

"I had to bring you somewhere. I walked in with The Shadow standing over you. I had to make you safe."

"I mean... you... you should not be near me. It is not safe for you." Myra looked around the room.

They went back and forth like this until Myra was too tired to argue. The weakness from the Lantern's draining caught up with her, as did the wearing of the events with Q'wellen... and her fight with Mely... Soon, she was leaning on Galahad for support, his arm about her tiny waist.

Galahad took her to the roof of his home and that is where she quickly fell asleep.

It was well into the afternoon when next Myra woke up. The throbbing in the back of her head was very distracting, but one thought haunted her. She'd left Q'wellen's body to the lich...

Quietly she raised from the spot on the floor that she'd curled up on. She could hear Galahad downstairs rearranging things. She vaguely remembered him mentioning something like that last night before he had almost had to carry her upstairs.

Slipping into a nearby shadow, she crept down through the house. Sure enough, Galahad was sorting and filing runes, and rearranging the shelving. Careful to stay hidden, Myra made her way to the door. He had the front doors propped open to catch the springtime breeze and she took advantage of that, by slipping out the doors and off into the forests unnoticed.

Once she was just out of sight of Galahad's house, she took out her runebook. She would retrieve Q'wellen's body... she couldn't leave it to whatever the lich might do with it. With whispered words of power, she found herself standing knee-deep in a snowdrift. She shivered. She was still weakened from the draining she'd received from the lantern, and she hadn't slept very well.

The hoarse croaking of a group of ravens circling overhead drew her attention. Quickly she made her way toward the Temple of Khellenduras. She could see some shape in the 'front yard' area before the tower. As she got closer, she noticed that whatever it was was the point of interest for the ravens. She hurried forward at first, and then slowed her steps...

That was Q'wellen's head on a pike. A raven was perched upon his hair, pecking at his one remaining eye. The flesh, preserved mostly due to the cold of the island, was a frozen, beyond-dead gray-blue. The carnivorous birds had pecked away his lips, leaving a gruesomely mocking smile upon his face. The tips of his once delicate elven ears where tattered, the blood long ago dried.

Behind the head, suspended on a larger pole was what remained of Q'wellen's body. It had been disemboweled. What remained of his entrails was scattered about in the defiled snow. The birds were also pecking at most of these ravenously. There was little flesh left on the tattered form hanging there. She could hardly recognize it as an elf, let alone as Q'wellen.

She dropped to her knees, her stomach heaving. She'd had nothing to eat, so there was nothing for her to retch up onto the snow. Giving herself a few moments, she closed her eyes and slowly stood. She left him here to this, and she would take him from this place.

With a blank expression, she moved over to what remained of her friend, shooing the ravens away. She shot a few down. Those that had been particularly gluttonous, and where too heavy to fly, found themselves the victims of her silent rage. She grabbed the birds, ignoring what pecks or scratches they inflicted upon her delicate hands, and snapped their necks.

She gathered every... bit of Q'wellen she could find, and put him carefully into a crate she'd brought. Settling the crate into her magical bag, she turned her attention to the dead ravens that littered the ground. One at a time she took the ravens and slit their throats, bleeding them out onto the front steps of Khellenduras' temple. When she had finished with this, she opened the door to the temple and threw the carcasses inside.

Not bothering to look back, she knelt, cleaned her hands in a patch of virgin snow, and whispered the words that would take her to one of Q'wellen's favorite spots. The waterfall north of the Justice Shrine. She built a pyre on the cliff that overlooked the northeastern side of the falls, and there it was that she put Q'wellen's remains to rest. The ashes, she scattered into the falls. It was there she sat, in quiet contemplation for the rest of the night.



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