Between a Rock and a Hard Place

[Koyliak]

I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this,
like every inch of me is bruised, bruised.
And don’t fly fast – oh, pilot can you help me?
Can you make this last? This plane is all I got
so keep it steady now
cause every inch you see is bruised.
-- Jack’s Mannequin

Koy’s professional success hinged on the fact that she didn’t need much sleep. She pushed her body to new physical limits inside and outside of the rings because she wished she did.

The elf never won awards in school for being the smartest kid in class. She did however have an overactive imagination, one that inspired her work and tortured her dreams as she constantly played out the endless scenarios of how she could have lived her life differently.

There were some things she would not change. One of them slept soundly besides her, his even breathing comforting her in the darkness of their shared room. She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, trying to drown out the unleashed thoughts crashing into each other in her head.

She had gotten what she wanted. Matt challenged Rakeesh for the right to hold ShadoWeaver and he lost. She should have felt relieved but she only saw it as a temporary reprieve from his relentless pursuit of the black opal.

How could she save him from his obsession? Matt saw many things but he was blinded by the Opal’s mystique.

Her newfound friend, MoonBeryl, had his own ideas on how Koy could help. The less threatening Opal coaxed her into believing that maybe she should let Matt go after the dark Opal. Once he had ShadoWeaver, Koy and MoonBeryl could watch her. The yellow opal promised he would find common ground with his stronger sister. They both knew they did not possess the power to destroy her but they could at least keep her quiet.

It sounded like a decent plan until Koy watched Matt fighting Rakeesh. Matt’s determination to win and his avowal to challenge as soon as he could made it impossible for her to believe sharing a roof with the cursed stone made sense.

And then there was Jaycy. Her teammate and friend, Jaycy gave her a simple solution because she saw how unhappy Matt and Koy were considering they loved each other. If Koy would only stop hiding herself away from him, she could provide a cure. She should have been more outraged at the way Matt had enlisted Jaycy to fight his cause – his desire to wed.

She should have been furious except for the fact that the same thought rattled inside her mind to no end.

Why did she hold back from the one person who had seen her hit one low after another and stayed put? In her first marriage to Redd, Koy had been the one shoved to the side. Now she did the pushing but Matt always found a way to accept her and love her more for it. But the more she cared for him, the more terrified it made her. She once told Matt that she was scared of how much he could hurt her now.

Koy rubbed a hand over her face. She was getting nowhere.

You’ll drive yourself insane like this, Koyliak. MoonBeryl’s voice sounded like warm syrup over pancakes. Even as his wife, you will have to face her sooner or later. You should hope to get it under control while you have my help.

“Ye’re probably right,” she whispered, moving out of the room so as not to wake Matt. There was no need for Koy to speak out loud to the Opal but she wanted to keep his voice as separate from her own inner voice as much as possible.

You can’t stop them from finding each other again. It would be foolish to think vows could fix that.

“It would...wouldn’t it?” She ran the water from the bathroom sink, washing up. MoonBeryl spoke in such a calm and steady tone that it was easy for her to fall in line with his way of thinking and yet she couldn’t shake what Jaycy said. It troubled Koy that Matt could think he was not worthy of her love – if anything, it was the other way around.

You need to give yourself more credit. He is lucky to have someone who will do whatever it takes to save him.

“Am I savin' him...I wish ye’d stop doin' that!” She hissed the last sentiment, hating his ability to intrude on her thoughts.

She needed to get out, get away from MoonBeryl for at least a short while. She quietly threw on jeans and a black cashmere sweater, leaving Matt in bed and MoonBeryl on the nightstand. She would let her feet wander where they pleased as long as they got her out of reach of the yellow Opal so she could clear her head.

[Goldglo]

He knows this beast, this fable. The iridescence of its scarlet hide blends into the shimmering brightness of the desert sands. Through its nostrils it exhales the horror of the lonely places of the earth. It spits out pestilence, and when armies venture into the desert, it consumes them utterly.

That expansive wasteland, the soul, lay exposed before her. She served as the spirit of her bretheren, whether she wanted to or not; she was the spirit, their soul. And she hated it. She hated them because they made her hate herself. She had been drawn to many, devoured countless others, conquered most without hardly making an effort. And those she couldn’t control or dominate sought her out once they’d caught the softest of her scents, feeling as if they were missing something, as if she could fill the newly created hole.

How wrong they were, for when they found her, they dissolved under her acidic grasp. But no matter how many there were, she remained unsatiated. With each new conquest, her venom grew more powerful – and the putrid hate she so often felt caused her to scream in silent agony.

Silence. Silence. Just like the vacuum. And there was still someone who could take her there. Who could relieve her. Who could save her. Perhaps, even from herself.

---------------------------------------

From the way people had been acting lately, you’d think he’d been hearing voices in his head. In fact, he was – the incessant comm-chatter was nearly giving him a headache. Transports moving here, wings shifting there, jump-traffic inbound. He was quite tempted to switch off the entire system, but he needed to listen in case something important actually came through.

Voices in his head. There were more, but it wasn’t the one that Koyliak and the others feared. ShadoWeaver, the black opal, she wasn’t speaking to him. She wasn’t calling to him. And, if she was, she did so in subtle unconscious ways that he couldn’t recognize.

Ah, but he did want her still.

Smoothly, as he’d done countless times before, he drew the throttle forward and banked his Raptor into a large sweeping turn. Shifting in his cramped seat, he twisted his neck to look out the small window. He could see the others matching his movements with just a bit of an overcorrection here and there. He’d point those out during the debriefing, but perfect formation flying wasn’t the number one training priority that he had to instill in these rookies.

Looking forward again, his left hand cycling through the various VDU displays, his eyes settled on the pair of cufflinks Koy had given him when they’d first gotten together. He always kept them here when he flew – they served as a reminder of home, as a reminder of Koy, a reminder of the second chance he’d been given after Ginger. Jaycy had all but accused him of sacrificing all of that for one more go at the black opal. Or, considering his recent loss in the challenge, two more goes. But their fears, he was convinced, were unfounded. Yes, the opal had done something to him the last time, but that was years ago. He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Keying his mic, he added to the cascade of transmissions flying back and forth. “Moc. It’s Simon. Take the kids, they’re all yours. Three-point patrol, standard stuff. Take them though the asteroid field, though. It’ll be good practice. Just don’t let ‘em hotdog.”

“Roger that, Colonel,” a voice answered immediately. “See you back on the bucket.”

Within moments, the Hellcat V’s to his left broke from his wing, beginning to follow their new course. He watched for a few moments, until three bright blue-white flashes caught his attention as two Clydesdale transports and what was probably a mercenary-escort Orion ship jumped in.

“Good,” he thought, “those should be the repair parts we needed.”

Banking again, he set a course perpendicular to the one he’d sent the trainee squad and kicked his speed up to 380kps. He had enough fuel for several hours of cruising, and he needed the time to think.

The cufflinks stared at him, softly lit by the glimmer cast by millions of faint stars. He looked at them again. They were almost hypnotic. He closed his eyes. They stared. He refused to look, a battle of wills. Except they had no will and they stared.

The fighter shot through the gaping maw of the void, the man inside lost in a murky confusion of his own making. Eyes squeezed tight, he felt their overwhelming gaze. He tried to ignore it, and couldn’t. He ventured forth.

And still, they stared.

Quote taken from Salman Rushdie's The Satanic Verses

[Koyliak]

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
-- e.e. cummings


After a morning spent in aimless wandering through the twists and turns of Rhydin Proper, Koy found herself in the heart of The Marketplace. The open market was experiencing a second Renaissance with the flurry of new shops clamoring for space but Koy remembered how it once looked.

What eventually would become her full-fledged clothing shop had started as a simple booth in the Marketplace where she begged passersby to give her a chance to design their wedding gowns. It took time and a second job picking up shifts at a local dive bar but Koy finally saved enough to move to her own building in New Haven. If Langenfirth was her personal hometown, The Marketplace was her professional one.

Koy meandered along, exchanging pleasantries with the vendors she knew. She stopped to examine a rare shipment of live silkworm larvae. She purchased a sticky bun from a passing food cart. MoonBeryl did not speak to her and she appreciated his silence.

Unfortunately, this meant she only had her own ideas to untangle.

It had been over four years since the night Matt walked her back to her home and shop, The Heavenly Boutique. Four years since she saw the Colonel with new eyes. They both felt misplaced in their own lives. Koy understood his dedication to his work because her own career was all she had left. And with time they had each other.

Not that it had been easy. Koy only had three strategies for dealing with any problems that arose in their relationship – search for answers in the bottom of a bottle, check for them in a ring, or shut down all together. That Matt could elicit any response from Koy about her feelings was a greater feat than all of his Diamond Quest titles combined.

No, Matt’s stubborn refusal to see ShadoWeaver as a controlling entity he could not tame was not the only reason Koy shied away from commitment. She kept them in the running for the Rhydinian record of longest couple to stay together without wedding because she still didn’t know how to make a marriage last.

Watching the bustling crowd in the Marketplace, Koy went over the pieces of her past for the umpteenth time. Even in the midst of civilization she turned to nature to decipher her failed marriages.

To say Redd had loved her like a volcano would be cliché and inaccurate. The red-haired war mage certainly let his temper burst the way volcanoes spewed lava but there was no such passion when it came to his naïve wife. Receiving any love from him was more like squeezing water from a rock. In hindsight she had no idea if he ever cared about her, even in his own warped way.

If that had been her only experience she could write it off as a terrible mistake. The more time passed, the easier it became to remember her first husband as a two-dimensional villain. It would be simple to walk down the aisle with Matt if it hadn’t been for Mikal.

Mikal’s love came like rain in the desert, a feast after the famine. He hid his feelings as well as a leopard disguised his spots. He showed her what it meant to feel loved. It meant so much to him to make their devotion to each other known to the world that she could not resist his persistent pleading.

Redd picked the dark blackfire sorcery over her, almost killing her physically in the process. It shocked her at first but the longer she sat with it, the less surprising it seemed. Mikal choosing himself instead of having faith in her to stand by him no matter what troubles he had gotten into, that would never sit right with her. By taking their only daughter with him, Mikal managed to murder her emotionally. Finding out he was dead did not comfort her – he left her with too many questions that she would never be able to answer.

Matt had given her something to believe in despite her attempts to remain a cynic. He was her ocean – wave after wave of support and understanding had eroded the dunes she built to protect her heart. No matter how deep or how far she went there was no end to his love.

If she lost him now, it would kill her very spirit.

With Redd and Mikal she had been blindsided. This time she would not be caught off-guard. MoonBeryl knew his sister much better than she did. Whether or not she and Matt walked down the aisle, ShadoWeaver would still be a part of their lives. She couldn’t be second-choice for the third time. If saving their relationship meant aligning herself with MoonBeryl and following his lead, so be it.

[Goldglo]

I've been thinking of everything
I used to want to be
I've been thinking of everything
Of me, of you and me

The small Raptor slid through the void, straight and unwavering as if a drop of water on a perfect piece of glass. Inside, the computer controlled everything – stabilization, yaw, pitch, speed – everything but the clouded mind of the man at its controls. A man who struggled with the weight of his life, both past and present. A man whose ghosts were beginning to rise up and remind him of things he’d rather forget. A man who avoided looking at Koy’s gift, the two small reminders of his life on Rhydin as it was, and as what it might have been.

The Raptor continued on its set path, its engines glowing a bright blue against the deep black. In the cramped cockpit, its pilot, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, face shielded by a darkened visor, sat transfixed in a half-sleep of his own making. She was calling for him, crying for him, but which she was it? The spirit-Opal? Koy?

I'm in the middle of nothing
And it's where I want to be
I'm at the bottom of everything
And I finally start to leave

Perhaps the she was hybrid, a fusion of Koyliak and ShadoWeaver. Perhaps she was a figment of his imagination. Perhaps she was guilt – the guilt which had never left with Ginger and their children. The guilt which ripped open a new hole in his heart each time he saw Sarah and the boys. The guilt which told him, rightfully so, that it was his fault! The guilt he felt for his parents. The guilt for destroying the happiness he’d had before Koy. The guilt for friends who had died. The guilt for those he’d killed. The guilt he’d feel if when! Koy left. Yes, that will be your fault too. The anticipation of the event dripped a slow poison into his mind as it had been doing for months; it ate away with a relentless and sinister acidic glee.

This is the story of my life
These are the lies I have created

The Raptor changed course. The man inside took no notice.

Lyrics by Jared Leto

[Rakeesh]

All my friends and lovers, they shine like the sun
Well, I just turn and walk away;
One way, or another, I'm not coming undone
I'm just waiting for the day...



Rakeesh pushed his left-hand over his forehead, brushing sweaty, red and gray mane away from his eyes. Memories flooded his mind as he instinctually honed onto Vincent Smith's movements.

"Destroy him, Paladin; you know what he is."

The liontaur's duel would be over in mere moments - he would win, and he would not slay the General of the Temple of Divine Light. But that piercing voice, that shadowy voice - it haunted him every day. It taunted him every day. And the Paladin's only respite against the assaults, against the tugging at his heart, was to fall deep into the memories of his past.

"Hello, Rakeesh. Welcome home. Welcome home, Rakeesh. Come home. Please. Come home."

He shut out that bitter-sweet voice. It was the voice of Kreesha, his beloved wife. Here though, in Rhy'Din, worlds away from Tarna, it was the voice of Avoozl and of ShadoWeaver.

Shhh, old man. Look over there. Your home is there.

And it was. Rakeesh had preserved his memory of the city of Tarna with great care - its pyramids, temples, market-places, and denizens. It was beautiful, even here, in the mind of an old soldier. Savannah wildlife blended with the artistry and spirituality of the great City-State that had once been his kingdom. His sight flew down from its bird's eye-view, and towards the smaller pyramid-like building that he had once called his home. He pushed through the door in his memory, and there was Kreesha in all of her beauty. Every detail of her physique was perfect in his mind - her soft, shiny, perfect fur... her deep, beautiful eyes and figure... and that kind, knowing smile that had tamed Rakeesh's heart in his wild youth.

"Rakeesh. Come home. You know what must be done. Take us home."

Suddenly, darkness ate away at his vision, clouding his sight. Avoozl never allowed him to get too close in his memories - never allowed him to lose himself entirely in them. Rakeesh was to be constantly reminded of what he had sacrificed to banish the darkness that had threatened his world.

Yes. I know what must be done to return home. The hurt of it wears on my old heart without mercy. But I am Rakeesh Sah Tarna, and I will not bow to you, or to the mountains should they grow teeth and threaten to swallow me whole. I am Rakeesh Sah Tarna.

Rakeesh Sah Tarna opened his eyes, pushing the darkness away as he had become accustomed to doing. He had defeated Vincent in the ring, and he had not succumbed to the Opal's urges to slay the cursed one. He was a Paladin, not a murderer.

The standard Rhy'Din congratulations were given, and the liontaur moved through the crowd, the duelists, the officials, and past Vincent - he felt like a wind up toy. He felt stoned. He felt more exhausted than he had ever remembered feeling in his entire life. But it was going to be a long walk home, and then an even longer night. It was time for Rakeesh to prepare to defend his burden again; and he knew what was at stake.




[So] deliver me in a black-winged bird
I think of dying;
Lay me down in a field of Flame and Heather
Render up my body into the burning heart of
God in the belly of a Black-Winged Bird
But don't try to bleed me
'Cause, look; I've been here before
And I deserve a little more.

lyrics by Adam Duritz

[Koyliak]

((Author's note - This takes place before Jaycy's challenge))

If you feel discouraged
That there’s a lack of color here
Please don’t worry lover
It’s really bursting at the seams
Absorbing everything
The spectrum’s a to z
--Death Cab for Cutie

“Incredible. She might actually convince the priest and the rest of the congregation that she’s a wholesome virgin in that,” said Sonia, making her appraisal in between bites of gingersnap cookies.

“That might be true if she hadn’t slept with half the congregation,” Lillian snorted.

“Still, it’s a beauty. You’ve really outdone yourself here, dear. I can only imagine what you will create for your own special day.” Esther chose to tackle a different agenda, refraining from insulting the bride-to-be.

The three members of The Heavenly Boutique’s geriatric peanut gallery gave their final verdicts on the ivory lace gown the shop’s designer had fashioned for Thalia James’ fourth wedding. The old biddies, as they were called, stared at Koy, waiting for her to rebuke and correct them as she was wont to do.

Koy hadn’t been listening. It took her several moments before she felt the weight of six eyes beating down on her.

”Oh, right, glad ye like it.” Her gaze fell on the dress again but her thoughts were in a study upstairs at home.

“That’s it?” Esther looked to her two cohorts, lightly scratching the top of her blue-tinged hair in confusion.

Sonia and Lillian appeared just as confused. They began conferring amongst themselves as though Koy had left the room.

“Maybe she’s finally come to her senses and is going to let that poor Colonel marry her already.” Lillian and Esther exchanged questioning looks at Sonia’s observation.

“As much as I like this newfound respect Koy must have for our wisdom, I find it a little disconcerting that she’s not telling us off by this point. It’s not like her,” said Lillian. The biddies turned their attention once more upon the elf, concerned in their own warped way.

Amidst all the clucking Koy had drifted back to the study again, thinking about the papers she had found there.

She hadn’t been snooping. She wanted to help Matt by straightening up his desk. When Koy opened one of the desk drawers to put away some pens, she saw them. Four notebooks, charred around the binding but still readable. Her curiosity got the better of her – these notebooks had to have come from his room at the Outback. Matt must have salvaged them from the fire, but why? Koy thought Matt had moved all of his important work into their house once she agreed to live with him. That had been long before the Outback burned to the ground.

She knew it was wrong but she picked one up, carefully thumbing through it. Most of the scribbled notes and drawings made little sense to her, but the overall topic of the notebook became abundantly clear.

“Why is this news to you? Of course he’s been studying ShadoWeaver. What did you think he was doing when he had her?” MoonBeryl chimed in, reacting to her shock at the discovery.

“I...I don’t know. I jest had...”

“You let yourself not think about it. Out of sight, out of mind. It’s a natural response.”

She frowned, flipping towards the end of the notebook. There she found notes and diagrams under the heading ‘To Be Conducted’, the most recent entry dated right after Matt’s last challenge for the black opal. It was another reminder that Matt still thought of her, wanted her.

“So wha do I do now?” Koy didn’t think twice about consulting MoonBeryl. They were friends. Sort of.

He sounded so kind and stern all at once, like a father helping a child reach her own conclusion. “Come now, Koyliak. You already know what you do about it, don’t you?”

She did and it caused her to sigh. “Nothin’. I don’t say anythin’ ‘bout it and we stay the course.”

“Very good. Now why don’t you put that back where you found it and go take your mind off of things. You didn’t read your tabloids yet, I’m sure that would make you feel better.” Oh yes, the yellow opal had spent more than enough time with Koy to understand how to comfort her. His suggestion actually sounded sincere.

“SAY SOMETHING ALREADY!” Koy snapped back to reality, finding Lillian’s age-spotted hands shaking both of her shoulders.

”Uh...how ‘bout stop?” Koy waited for Lillian to let her go.

”I was hoping Koy would hit her once, for good measure. She seems to like to do that to people,” Sonia snickered, elbowing Esther.

Esther laughed as well. Lillian shot her a scathing look. “Don’t encourage her, Es.”

“Are you all right, Koy?” Esther dismissed the look.

“Sure, sure, I’m fine, jest got a lot ta get done. I’ll be in the back iffn ye need me.” Koy hurried out of the biddies’ sight before they could barrage her with questions.

In the safety of her workshop, Koy forced her mind to stay in the present. She needed to form her plan. She would not mention the papers to Matt, nor would she hold them against him. She still didn’t know if she would ever be able to marry him but maybe if she became a better girlfriend, it would be enough for him. He needed to know how much she cared for him, ring or no ring.

She would stop drinking. She would spend more time at home. She would not lord ShadoWeaver over his head.

“It won’t fix anything, not in the long run.” MoonBeryl injected some reality into her thoughts.

“It’s worth tryin’.”

“If you say so.”

Koy shook her head, regarding the opal. “Whaever am I gonna do with ye?”

[Koyliak]

I could ask you the same thing.

He had spent weeks jostling around in Koyliak’s purse along with her magazines, make-up, snacks and the other ridiculous things she insisted on carrying with her at all times. He hated it, hated spending hours in her store, listening to the prattle of women all day long. But he never voiced any of this to her. Why?

He didn’t know. With each day that passed, he found himself entrenched deeper and deeper into her good graces. Koyliak did not hide her dislike for his brothers and sisters, yet she was starting to trust him. She wanted his opinion on things. She turned to him when she was worried and frightened.

The elf did not possess any great power that distinguished her from his past holders. And yet he found himself working every angle he could to strengthen his bond with her.

He did like the way she feared the Opals. She came from an ancient race and he understood that her fear was rooted out of the respect she had for their power, even if she could not call it that out loud. He did not need to keep her entertained with parlor tricks, no floating beer cans necessary to peak her interest. She did not look at him as a plaything.

More importantly, Koyliak had proven to be impervious to his sister’s one attempt to woo her. When ShadoWeaver controlled Matt, she wanted to show the extent of her power by controlling Koyliak as well. The elf turned her down, running away.

Out of the five opals, MoonBeryl had always been the weakest. Or at least the others perceived him as weak. What he lacked in strength and spontaneity he made up for with intellect and patience. ShadoWeaver knew how to tempt and seduce her victims. Unfortunately, she did not grasp that not all people were after the power she pretended to offer.

That he could succeed where she failed meant enough to him. He would continue to work with Koyliak, guiding and misguiding her as he saw fit. Where it would lead him, he couldn’t be sure. Maybe she would be his chance to finally show his brothers and sisters that he was a force to reckon with.

[Koyliak]

((Author's Note: This takes place before Jaycy posted her challenge to Rakeesh))

We’re made out of blood and rust
looking for someone to trust
without
a fight
--Joseph Arthur

Koy put her plan into action, hanging out at the Outback with a bottle of water in hand. She even told Matt she wanted to sleep in late if he didn’t need to work in the morning.

Her sudden change in work ethic and drinking choices only made him think something was wrong with her. As the night wore on, Koy found it exceedingly hard to remain sober when Matt needed to go off and talk to his ex-wife, Ginger. They had children, of course they had to converse once and awhile, but she still didn’t like to see it.

She bided the time by silently consulting MoonBeryl on the manner instead. It wasn’t his area of expertise per se, but she liked having an instant confidante on hand to listen to her whenever she wanted to talk.

“I don’t get her sometimes, y’know?” After what felt like three lifetimes, Matt approached her again. Ginger had already found the exit.

“Hmm?” She quickly cut off her conversation with the yellow opal.

“Nothin’. Anyway, she’s an oddball. Time for home?”

She held her tongue, refraining from making some snarky comment about his ex despite wanting to say something. She wouldn’t go there with him; it was like stomping on thin ice.

Koy stood up, not minding in the least to leave her water behind. She hadn’t been drinking it. It was merely a prop to give her the comfort of having something liquid in her hand. “Sure.” The elf gave him a careful once over as though searching for a physical wound that might have manifested after PJ mistakenly congratulated him earlier on their non-existent marriage.

If he had suffered, she couldn’t tell. The blood had been mopped up and the giant hole patched.

“I’ll lock up. Got a jacket? It’s chilly.”

“I’m happy ye’re here.” Koy blurted the sentiment out of nowhere. She meant it beyond him just being in the Outback that night. She used to think it was obvious to him how she felt until Jaycy told her otherwise. Simply because they were not bound together by law didn’t mean she loved him any less. She wasn’t good at voicing those things but she could try a little harder as awkward as her efforts might come across.

Matt began locking the Outback down while Koy buttoned her coat. “I’m happy I’m here, too. It’s better than a lot of other places,” he said, turning off the lights.

“Better than other places with other people?” It was a loaded question. Why she had to needle him, she didn’t know. She held open the door and he followed her out into the biting air.

Matt understood enough to dodge the question until he could come up with an answer that wouldn’t upset her. He chose to buy himself time by distracting her with another question. “Why the break at work, besides Daven not being around for half a day?” He still found it odd that she wanted to stay home when she could easily find something to do at work.

Koy shrugged. “I thought I’d give my stomach a punishin’ by lettin’ ye cook?”

Instead of defending his culinary skills, Matt came back to her previous question, still trying to find the right way to tackle the matter. “You know the story behind me and Gin, right? Why we, or why she, ended things?”

So it seemed Koy wasn’t the only one fond of the drastic segue technique. She nodded. He had told her the story only once, when they first started dating. “She thought ye were dead.”

“Well, yes and no.” Matt trudged his way towards the car.

“Wasn’t she mad when ye came back tha ye had put the family through all tha? And someone wanted ta hurt them?” Koy’s memory often came up short after all the blows to the head she had taken in the rings.

“Yeah. The guy who made me...well, like this,” he pointed to his left eye. Few knew which parts of the Colonel were manmade and no longer human. He unlocked the door and slid into the front seat. “I faked my death so he’d leave my family alone.”

Not starting the car, he stared out the windshield, not looking at her. “So I guess, in trying to save what I loved, I lost it. By the time I came back, she was more angry with me than relieved, because I didn’t let her know. But I couldn’t let her know.”

Instead of going to the passenger side of the car, Koy climbed in on his side and onto his lap, her legs dangling outside. He could wait to drive. “Ye’ve told me this ‘fore. It makes sense so why are ye tellin’ me ‘gain ‘less ye’re beatin’ yerself up ‘bout it?” Her voice soft – she didn’t mean it harshly.

“I don’t know. I just,” now he did look at her, “I don’t want to lose y...I don’t want to lose my family again—“

“Or ye regret the way things turned out?” The last asked in spite of herself, it took her a minute to register what he had said. “Oh.” Damn her insecurity. She looked down and then back up at him. “Ye’re not gonna lose me ‘less ye let me go. We’re family.”

“Of course I regret it. I mean” he took the time again to pick his words carefully, knowing how she would take it, “I didn’t want to lose them, you know? But I did, and it was for a reason. Maybe that reason was you, maybe it was something else. I just love you. You know that. But I do.”

She nodded, looking more like a little girl than a grown woman. She could say the same about wishing things had turned out differently with Mikal. It was just harder to swallow when his regret was still alive and kicking with a killer set of legs.

“So I don’t know. I’m talking my thoughts, I guess.”

Koy pressed her forehead lightly to his. “’Course. Ye know ye can tell me anythin’.”

“And so can you.” He left that as an open invitation for her to explain the new (but unimproved) water-drinking-late-sleeping Koy.

After several moments of silence and a small intake of breath, Koy finally relented. “I jest need ye ta hang in there. I’m tryin’, honestly I am ta not be so ‘fraid of...well, ye know, us I guess.” So much for being articulate. “Even when all my instincts are screamin’ at me otherwise. I don’t wanna drive ye ‘way is all.” That was the short and the long of it.

“I’m going nowhere. I need you, more than you know, Koy. And as vulnerable as you feel sometimes, so do I.”

Deep down, Koy knew all that. She hated needing constant reassurance of it but she couldn’t help herself. She could only give a quiet laugh in acknowledgement of what he said. “No wonder we’re so well-suited fer each other. We’re two fools in a peapod.”

“Not fools. Just people.”

“People in love. Now tha’s a pickle.”

“Always is, I think.”

“Let’s go home. Ta our home.” The words felt good to say. He kissed her and she crawled across to the passenger seat, enjoying the moment and turning off her overactive imagination for just one night.

[Goldglo]

Your defenses were on high
Your walls built deep inside
Yeah I'm a selfish bastard
But at least I'm not alone

She had been alive for millennia. Tortured for millennia. Her own existence, coupled with that of her siblings -- agony. At best, tolerable. At worst she felt as if she was being ripped apart from the inside by millions of tiny needles -- dissolving her into a painful nothingness from which she, somehow, was always able to even more painfully regenerate.

My intentions never change
What I wanted stays the same
And I know what I should do
it's time to set myself on fire

That much was true. Her intentions hadn't changed for as long as she could remember. Her siblings quibbled, argued, made plans, abandoned them, lived (did not, unfortunately, die), quarreled again, took control, lost control, abandoned, devoured, consumed, created, tormented. She, of course, did most of the same. Except better. And worse.

Was it a dream?
Was it a dream?

Yes. And no. In her dreams, things were different. Her siblings were quiet. Just like when she was in the vacuum. She couldn't hear them there. It was why she constantly reached out to the man who could take her to that freedom. Who would take her there once again. She dreamed of the vacuum quite often, relished in the quiet, the knowledge that brother and sister, try as they might, could not reach her. Even if she was the center. Even if she needed them as much as they needed her. The silence was as welcome as anything she could imagine. Especially in their weakened state, she and the others were relatively useless. Much time (though just an eye-blink by the universe's clock) would pass before they could even think of combining themselves again. Though she would enjoy the power when it came, she would, once more, have to put up with the others. For now, silence was preferred.

Is this the only evidence that proves it
A photograph of you and I
Your reflection I've erased
Like a thousand burned out yesterdays
Believe me when I say goodbye forever
Is for good

She remembered it all, seared into her mind, each memory a scar left by the firebrand of experience. Of life. There were many things she’d rather forget that she’d never forget. The good memories were few. Attempts to forget made her cringe as the memories became even more intense, taunting her with their foreverness, laughing at her because they would not, could not, go away. They were her. She was them. Too often, especially in this feeble state, she felt the frustrations of lack. She was only a shell of what she could be. Of what she once was. She was powerless to help herself. If she could say goodbye forever, if she could find a way, she would. Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.

Was it a dream?
Was it a dream?

She dreamed of the silence. She would find it again. She was close. He was close. The lure was there; he was following her scent. Soon, she would trap him again. And while she was in this diminished horrid state, he would take her to the only freedom she knew.

Lyrics by Jared Leto

[Goldglo]

Your defenses were on high
Your walls built deep inside
Yeah I'm a selfish bastard
But at least I'm not alone

Koyliak VanDuran. The walls were there, certainly. And he, as if a patient sculptor with a dulled chisel and weak hammer, slowly, constantly, methodically chipped away at them. Pebble by pebble. Brick by brick. Her walls were there for good reasons. Even in letting him in as far as she had, she kept a secure fortress for her own protection, her own psychological and spiritual well-being. But he was there and hole by hole, he was penetrating the impenetrable. But maybe, just maybe, he was as far as he was going to get.

But why? Because he loved her? Because he needed not to be alone? Because he’d wasted his first chance, turned away, even without meaning to, his wife and children? Children who, on his dark and bitter days, he felt that Ginger was keeping from him purposely, fabricating her trips to see Kadi, faking the lessons vital to Sarah’s long-term growth and health, creating reasons why this time, once again, wasn’t a good one.

Maybe he was selfish. Certainly, he was. He loved Koy, and he wanted more than she was willing to give. But he would respect her wishes and wants enough not to drive a bulldozer through her walls. He would make do with the chisel.

My intentions never change
What I wanted stays the same
And I know what I should do
it's time to set myself on fire

What he wanted. What he wanted. That was something few people asked him. And Koy, lately, had constantly questioned his wants, especially when it came to ShadoWeaver. She was convinced that he was compelled to seek out the black opal, compelled to challenge for it, to possess it, perhaps even to love it. No matter what he said, he couldn’t change her mind. But, things aside, what was it he wanted? A career? A family? The Diamond? ShadoWeaver? Ginger? Koyliak? His parents, alive? To die, to run, to implode and somehow find rebirth? Human (or part human) as he was, his wants changed. His needs changed. Or, did they stay the same, and was he fabricating whatever he had to so that he wouldn’t have to face it? Or was Koy correct...was ShadoWeaver really compelling him in some way? Was he drawn to the Opal? Would he find himself faced with a choice he refused to think about, but which wormed its way into his dreams? Ashes. Just ashes. Wouldn’t that be much easier? If only he were ashes.

Was it a dream?
Was it a dream?

Yes. And no. It was too real to be a dream, but he always awoke in his bed or in his bunk. A dream. It had to be. But he could touchitfeelittasteit and it made him antsycrazyterrified as only something real could do. Alone, helpless, drifting. It was a dream. It was real. It would happen. It was happening. It had happened. All of them over and over again.

Is this the only evidence that proves it
A photograph of you and I

Often, when he was flying, Koy’s long ago gift of cufflinks, attached to a panel just below his right-hand VDU, kept his thoughts focused. But there was something else, too. Somewhat faded from the light of several suns, stars, nebula, infinite expanse, a creased photograph of Koyliak. She would never know, not ever, what she meant to him. She had kept him alive more than once. Her eyes, somehow as bright as the day the picture was taken, had made him bank left instead of right. Made him speed down and not up. Made him go against his instincts. Made him stay alive. Did that mean he was suicidal? Stupid? Lucky? He didn’t know. But he wasn’t dead. Not yet.

Your reflection I've erased
Like a thousand burned out yesterdays
Believe me when I say goodbye forever
Is for good

He couldn’t erase her. He didn’t want to. Too much had been taken, too much was gone, too much he could not reclaim. But she was there, tangible, to hold, to kiss, to love. And when she looked back at him, whether from the photograph or standing inches away, she overwhelmed him completely. Almost completely. There were few things he wouldn’t do for her but letting her go, even when that was the thing she most wanted (and there were times, he knew, where she wanted little else), wasn’t something he was prepared for.

Koyliak VanDuran. He would not, could not, say goodbye.

Was it a dream?
Was it a dream?
Is this the only evidence that proves it
A photograph of you and I
A photograph of you and I
A photograph of you and I... in love...

The lines blurred. Dreams. Life beyond dreams. Which was which? Everything was topsy-turvy. The more time that passed, the harder it was to make sense of either. Muddled, confused, senses dulled by a vibrant something he couldn’t explain. And the tug of something he didn’t want to explain, but with which he was all too familiar. If he could hold onto the picture, of what it represented, he would be all right. Unless, of course, he’d forgotten which was which. The dream, the photograph. His life as sculptor, as wrecker of walls. Her life as the sculpted, as the citadel under siege. Staring so hard, he could soon see nothing.

Koyliak VanDuran. A dream? An effigy of what he’d lost?

Koyliak VanDuran. The dream?

Koyliak VanDuran. Love.

Lyrics by Jared Leto

[Rakeesh]

Come, dowsed in mud
Soaked in bleach
As I want you to be



He wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to only have two legs to run on. His mind's eye flashed with memories of times he had charged, four-leggedly into battle - memories of how his speed had saved him more than once.

Everybody runs, Rakeesh.

There was the damned voice again, luring him towards some dark future. ShadoWeaver was becoming more talkative every day now, since Rakeesh's latest defense of the Opal in the Outback. The old liontaur shut it out as he continued to race down the street, heading straight for the Adventurer's Guild's guardpost at the Dragon's Gate; the great northwestern entrance to the City of Rhy'Din.


As a trend
As a friend
As an old memoria


The liontaur pulled his massive weight up the rope, to the top of the wall that seperated Rhy'Din from the wilderness beyond. The horn-alarm had not stopped blaring since his race had begun, and Rakeesh had now reached its source. A young guardsman finally stopped blowing the horn as the large, furry Paladin pulled himself up onto the ramparts.

Croughen. He is wounded, Paladin. He is going to die. It is time to run.

"What happened, effendi?", Rakeesh bellowed, ignoring ShadoWeaver's taunts.

"Goblins, sir... watch -", before the young adventurer could finish his response to Rakeesh, several arrows sailed up from outside of the city walls. The Paladin's supernatural ability for predict danger triggered his veteran reflexes - however, he could not lower his large form enough to avoid all of the arrows, and a shaft of cruel wood shot through his left arm.

Rakeesh Sah Tarna roared out in pain, and even moreso, anger. "How did raiders get so close to the city?!", his deep voice questioned the guardsman, who was already in shock from his own wound. The liontaur apologized, his voice softening, "Quickly, effendi. The City Watch must be asleep. Wake them, and then find me outside of the city gates. I can heal you, but you need to be strong and reach the guard barracks. Can you do this?"

Croughen nodded slowly, and then crawled to the latter, the color drained out of his face. Rakeesh had always liked Croughen's quiet nature. It hid the young man's very large talent for swordplay, and did not diminish his sense of justice. Now, though, Rakeesh did not have another second to waste behind the walls in thought.

Run, Rakeesh. You still have one last chance.

It is time to show what you are made of, old man. That boy is relying on you to make it.

Rakeesh forced the seductive voice out of his mind, speaking over it (per se) via his own inner determination. And with that, the old Paladin leaped over the battlements and into the darkness outside of the city.


And I swear
That I don't have a gun


There was a crackling sound as the liontaur fell through the air and downward. The sound was that of his massive blade, Soulforge (thank you, Piotyr, for that gift of blessed steel), igniting in its holy blue-flame. Those of the goblin raiding party below that were observant enough to see it, would only see a small ball of blue fire falling from the city wall. Rakeesh tightly held onto ShadoWeaver where it was worn around his neck - its dark magicks encasing the liontaur's form in shadows.

The first note of the nearby bell-tower struck, sounding the momentary approach of Midnight. Simultaneously, the Paladin's blade followed his drop, slicing in-two the ugly mug of an unfortunate goblin as Rakeesh fell on top of him.


No, I don't have a gun...


A dozen of the beasts. Maybe fourteen, at the most. Look at their ugly faces, Paladin. Their twisted, evil, ugly faces. Their green faces. They would kill you. They would kill others if you let them. Those deformed, monsterous faces would devour everything.

Rakeesh did not have the ability to shut out ShadoWeaver this time - he was engaged in battle. It seemed almost too easy for the old liontaur, forcefully knocking one goblin's attack into another - cutting through their putrid flesh like butter despite the arrow sticking through his left biscep - losing himself more and more with the dancing rage of the night.

These goblins had no chance to win tonight. They could not have invaded the city. They were a surprisingly small force, incapable of any significant threat. Why were they here? What right did they have to be here, at this wall?

Croughen.

Croughen could be dead. Their suicide party, their witless, meaningless raid!

Images flashed through the liontaur's fevered brain, attacking him relentlessly. Momentary still-framed memories of those who had fallen. There had been so much wasted potential and youth that the old soldier had seen throughout his long life.

Rakeesh roared out in the kind of pain that can only be understood by those who have lost their path in this world - by those who have given too much, only to see history repeat itself. The liontaur's hopeless roar shook the trees of the nearby forest and seemed to echo off into the wilderness indefinitely. All around him were the dismembered and decimated corpses of the goblin raiding party that he had cut down.

A fire. Approaching. Beware.

Rakeesh turned to see a figure running towards him; in its one hand was a blade, and in the other was a torch, trampling the darkness that stood between it and the liontaur.

Their leader. An Orc.

The Paladin could see its face - scarred from battles and raids that held no mercy, snouts and lips twisted in hateful grimaces for all uncursed races. Monsterous. Ugly. Evil. Rakeesh sprung forward, covering the space between the two as he impaled his holy blade on the abomination before him.

Soulforge's blue fire was suddenly doused, and Rakeesh shuddered at just how unnaturally cold the hilt had instantly become.


No, I don't have a gun.
I don't have a gun.
No, I don't have a gun.
I don't have a gun...


Rakeesh looked down at the frightened, dead eyes of a young soldier, still impaled on the liontaur's massive blade.

Croughen.

Rakeesh slowly pulled away, pulling the blade out of Croughen's chest, as blood sprayed in bursts from the wound. His hands shook hard from the shock of what he had done, and he dropped Soulforge to the ground. The old soldier dropped down, passionately embracing the body of his murdered student.

Tears streamed freely down the Paladin's soft, furry face, as he looked up into the Heavens and called out in a deep, pained voice, "What more do you want from me? I have given you everything! What am I supposed to do? Tell me! ... TELL ME!!!"

Run, Rakeesh. Everybody runs. Pick up your sword. And. Run.

Rakeesh grabbed Soulforge, whispering to Sekhmet for forgiveness as he returned it to its sheath without cleaning the innocent blood spilled on its edge.

Then, Rakeesh ran. He ran four-leggedly through the forest, towards the Adventurer's Guildhouse. He ran as hard as he had ever ran in his entire life - as if he had looked down the barrel of a gun and had seen the Devil himself waiting for him in the Great Beyond. Rakeesh ran with Croughen's lifeless body slung over the liontaur's strong shoulders.

A nearby bell-tower rung out the final note in its song, summoning Midnight to the city of Rhy'Din. And ShadoWeaver could not help but laugh.


lyrics by Kurt Kobain

[Koyliak]

The Diamond Quest was coming and he did not want it to.

Normally, he could care less about who won what in this sport. That a group of roughneck fist fighters were deemed worthy of holding any of the Opals based on their bone-breaking abilities amused him to no end.

When the time was right to revolt no amount of muscle would stop them.

They weren’t strong enough, not yet. They tried once to come together with disastrous results. For now he resigned himself to let those hooligans live in their illusion where they would always have the power to control them. He could wait.

He had passed from one holder to another before without much concern. It didn’t matter who held him. He had little use for these people, at least in his current state.

Until now.

When he heard Koyliak thinking about the upcoming Diamond Quest, it took everything in his power not to scream at her and demand that she not to participate. He did not want her to compete because he did not want to risk the chance that she could actually win. If she won, she would give him up to hold a stupid, useless diamond.

And then, what would be lost? He could not say for certain but something compelled him to keep her. For so long he had been content to pass the time until they all agreed they were strong enough to try again. He assumed one of his more forceful siblings would take the reigns when the right moment came their way.

Until now.

They were far from ready, that he knew. But since his time with this walking paradox who hated the Opals as a whole but trusted him as an individual, he felt...motivated. Powerful even. He wanted to do something, to be proactive for once.

He looked at Koyliak as an experiment. He had gained her trust and now he would see how far he could take it. She could be a handy tool if only he could find a use for her. He already understood how to wield her.

These feelings made themselves apparent the more he saw her with Matthew. No matter how he much he convinced Koyliak or himself otherwise, the man still bore the mark of ShadoWeaver. Watching them together, he was reminded of his siblings: very different on their own while fitting together nicely in their respective wholes. He saw this truth even when the others tried to deny it.

He would never be able to dominate Matthew the way his sister had. He had no mystery for Matthew to solve, no power to teach him about. In the same way, ShadoWeaver would never gain access to Koyliak. She could not give the elf the security, the reassurance, or the fatherly guidance she so longed for.

But he could coax Koyliak and she could sway Matthew. If he were capable of feeling hope, he would have had some at that fact.

The answer would come to him as long as he had the time for all the pieces to fall into place.

The Diamond Quest was coming and he would not let Koyliak go.