Matlal and the Eldarie

[Alais d Nitesong]

I'd gone home to I' Taurn for a brief time. The house was dark and empty, nearly devoid of life once more. As I roamed through the House, taking the silent disembodied state I use in Riverbend, there is a sadness within me that even that state cannot overcome. This grand structure was created by my grandparents, lived in by my own parents, and been my home for 28 centuries. And now, it is silent. My children do not inhabit my home, and the structure built by my forebearers is lonely. I can feel it in the stones, in the wood, in the very ground upon which it sits.

Lonely. Empty. Hollow.

I too feel those things. I have left behind the man who claims to love me to deal with a threat that I am partially to blame for existing. The dragons are wonderful company, but that is not enough.

My world is devoid of joy and laughter. In it's place is naught but sorrow and pain. Things I did not feel so starkly in Riverbend. A place I feel a kinship with, where the sharp bitterness did not intrude with such clarity. A place Tass tells me I do not belong, and yet, it is there that I must go once more to find out what is changing, what is causing this power build up that rocks the very foundations of my Annaran sorcery.

There is hollowness to what I do now. To bind the books safely away, and yet, that binding is itself in jeopardy by this tear between the worlds that is widening. A tear that exists only because Tass sought to bring me back to the realm of living creatures. It is our friendship and my desire to find solitude that have wrought this looming disaster. And now Tass believes that the chamber for the books cannot contain Annaran influence because those who will come through the tear will do so from Annara itself.

This troubles me greatly because it is the Annaran sorcery to which I am most keenly tied. My best tools for safeguarding the books, and to know when they are disturbed. To use the sorcery of only the dragons will restrict my abilities to monitor and maintain the books.

And now, Tass has lost all contact with his brother. The Third book and Khirsah have vanished from Tass' reach. Gone, and history is changing according to Tass.

All of this because I came back.

From I' Taurn I gathered some rare spell components, things I will need to make my attempt to touch the Primordial Darkness. It touched me the last time. This time, I will seek it. And then, I will go to Riverbend. I am the only one who can, and therefore, I must if we are to know for certain what is brewing within the realm of the dead.

[Alais d Nitesong]

Daemonbane lay upon the foundation stone of my home on Matlal.

The dark blade writhed when ever I approached it, and the dragons who guard it remain close, but not within reach of the black, rippling blade. Their attention is focused acutely on both the blade and myself as I pause to study the sentient blade.

It beckons. It lures. It wants to feel my fingers wrap around it's hilt. To take up the blade that destroyed Morrin. To take up the blade that sent the entire Annaran race into The Beyond.

It's song calls to that part of me that is Annaran. A cobra swaying before it's hoped for meal, waiting for the right moment to strike. That moment would be the instant I reached for it. In that split second, Daemonbane would strike. Claiming me as it had claimed all the Annaran kings before me. Driving each to a form of madness in an effort to control and keep this blade from wreaking the havoc and destruction for which it was created.

Each death Daemonbane was responsible for had only increased the blade's thirst and power. This blade would forever dominate my life were I ever foolish enough to reach for it.

And yet, it sings to me. A song of promise, a whisper of power.

[QueenTeleperien]

Rain is falling and the castle is lit with candles and torches, chasing off the afternoon gloom. Teleperien is alone in her study enjoying a cup of tea. In front of her is scattered several missives and documents. That morning more talks with the small party from Ravenswing went better than Tele had hoped. When Borin solidly backed Tele the dwarves lessened in their stance. Dwarves drove hard bargains yet it looked a little more hopeful than a week ago.

However she had a time keeping her mind on the problems of the realm. Her attention wanders to the dueling arena a few nights back. She frowns to herself. Tass. She saw the armor under his simple cloak. She was not fooled for one minute by his attire. Tass is going to battle. She saw in him the fire of battle, the fire of his soul. It burned brightly and she knew it would not be quenched until he fulfilled his task. For a reason she could not fathom her heart was troubled by this. She felt the heaviness again.

Through the talk of others she had learned he had sought the aid of Rhaine.

“Why would he seek her help?” She says to herself. “Indeed she is skilled in many things, but what skill does she have that Tass does not have? What would she lend in battle?”

Tele sighs and takes another sip of the tea and stands and with tea cup in hand goes to the window as is her habit when her thoughts trouble her. The rain patters softly against the pane, making it difficult to see past the drops.

“Tass must know what he is about.” Tele mutters shaking her head. Suddenly a vision comes to her… as real as the rain falling outside. The tea cup falls from her hands and shatters on the slate floor. She cannot move or cry out.

A field heavily laden with the aftermath of battle; broken spears, scattered shields and swords lay with bodies strewn about. That is not what alarmed Tele, but there on the battlefield lay Tasslehofl Momus.. his body still, his pale face staring up to the heavens.

[Rhaine]

My thoughts wander back to the accursed day when I agreed to assist Tass without inquiring first what would be needed of me...

He was standing behind my back while I dueled Artemus, and his presence weighed heavily on my spirit. As soon as the duel was over, I turned to speak to him. If the Dragon desires my death - let that be solved. Once and forever.

His words were unexpected. "I will be needing your... assistance and your... expertise of biochemistry." Biochemistry? By Midnight, that was odd. Modifying a Dragon is absurd, they are magic embodied. Combat biomagic? But that depends on opponent.... It was interesting. And even if it was a suicide mission, it could be fun. In the end... after my visit to a place I longed for so much, life stopped having any sense to me. I nodded in agreement, accepting this challenge.

Tass probably noticed that I rushed into the mission, but he seemed to be too willing to drag me into these problems.... He said he would be preparing a way for me to join him at the Emerald Isles - and I let myself remember it.

In a few days the puzzle shifted into one integral picture for me. My listening skills are good enough, especially when I hear Alais talk to someone, and I could hear the news of something like a tear between what they call "Annara" and the Isles. It is probably not a life mage that Tass needs... it's a priest of Asmodeus.

I let the thought remain in my mind like a poisoned arrowhead...

[Alais d Nitesong]

Queen Teleperien had come to the Arena with a distracted and worried demeanor. She had come looking for a means to contact Tass, that it was urgent she find him. However, Tass has his islands well warded, and now with the tear, he's tightened that security even more. Travel to the Emerald Isle's is tightly guarded.

Rhaine and I spoke for some time with the Queen, to find out that she's had a vision. A vision of Tass's death on a battlefield.

This is a warning that I take very seriously. The visions of my own kind are not to be ignored, and I offered to take the message for Tass back to Matlal with me that night, and have one of the dragons find Tass to deliver it.

Teleperien was upset by what she'd seen, Tass and she have been friends for a long time. Her vision of him laying cold and dead on a battlefield had sent her searching to try to change his mind about the "how's" of his activities. She'd seen his armor, known he was headed for battle, and now she knows that if he does this the way he'd planned, he would die.

And yes, dragons can and do die.

I left with the missive immediately and headed right for Matlal. I would entrust this message for Tass to Garl. Garl would be able to find Tass no matter where he was, and deliver it.

I returned to the Islands in absolute darkness. It was the night of the new moon, and no silver light shone on the islands, yet when my feet touched the land, I could feel a vibration in the ley lines unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Power. LOTS of power was being used somewhere on my Island.

Find Garl.

[Alais d Nitesong]

I found Garl in the lingering darkness, explaining to him that the Elven Queen had sent it with the request that it find Tass with all due haste. I did not tell him the contents of the missive, only that it was urgent.

The first pale streaks of grey washed across the sky, and still the ley lines beneath my feet spoke of the great power that had been used on the island, and I know Garl feels it too. It would be impossible for the dragons not to feel this draw of power. There is a restless feel to the sorcery of the island and this will require investigation. What ever caused this was no simple spell. The ripples in the ley lines speak of immense and complex sorceries. Something significant was wrought here.

As I glanced around the construction site, I saw the dragons at the corner stone, and the black blade laid where it had since its arrival. The chamber at the center of my home was quiet, there had been no disturbance to the books.

Garl took flight with the first rays of the sun casting spears of brilliance into the heavens. Now I had to begin preparations for seeking the third book, and Khirsah if I am lucky. Yet, the ripples in the ley lines remain. How much time do we have before either the tear in the fabric between worlds allows the dead to come through, or Khirsah changes things so drastically that we are no longer here? With those two thoughts driving me, I set to work within the perimeter of my new home preparing to seek that darkness that had touched me briefly on the black sand beach those days ago.

Commotion erupted in the dragons, and I left my preparations to join them. Garl had returned, but I have never seen this gregarious dragon so solemn and serious. He relayed how he’d found Tass…. Near death at the door of a shrine that even Garl had never seen before.

I pulled Garl aside, the dragons have great respect and will defend their Pendragon to the very end, so I needed to word my question carefully, for while I am admitted to the Isles freely, I am not a dragon. “Garl, th’ sorceries used ‘ere last even…. They’re Tass’, ‘re they nae?”

He looked at me with glittering dragon eyes. “There is more than just his, but the predominance is Tasslehofl’s, yes lady.”

I thanked Garl and asked him where this new shrine was to be found, but he declined to give me directions, preferring that I remain away from the place until Tass could decide, but I would seek this new shrine, and see what I can learn about it’s purpose, and why it took such strong sorceries, for I am reasonably certain what I feel in the ley lines was used to create it.

I turned to walk back to my work area to alleviate Garl’s concerns, but when out of visible sight, I dissipated into nothingness to follow the ley lines, seeking the shrine amidst the nature of Matlal.

The sorceries made use of the natural life of the island. There were whispers in the trees, the rocks, and even the air worked to shield and hide the shrine as Garl had called it. I laid my hand lightly upon the trunk of a great old oak that bent to the prevailing winds from the channel, seeking to reassure it that my reason for seeking the shrine was peaceful and only meant to see how to assure it’s protection since everything on this island is part of my charge from Tass. At last, the path was shown to me. Elves are known to be able to speak with nature, and to share freely, and so it was that my Eldarie abilities swayed the guardians of this new sorcerous creation.

I found the structure in a clearing deep within the wild forests of Matlal. There were no birds, no insects, no life within the circle, and as I approached the circle I felt something so dark it took my breath away. This shrine lay within a blood rune. A Blood Rune of a Dead Dragon! I did not know the dragon, but I could guess who, but why eluded me.

I stood for a very long time outside that circle.

[QueenTeleperien]

Teleperien is now weary of these dwarves. She has tried every method she could think of to help resolve the problems that lay between them, yet they insist on a state of their own. So.. if they want a state.. they can have it. But not in Eldicor. She dresses carefully for what in her mind will be their last meeting. She is done with diplomacy, tact and politeness.

With a determined face she strides down the hallway with Tom the hobbit jogging to keep up.

“L..lady.. are you sure you want to do this?” He stammers. Tele doesn’t answer. She sweeps into the Great Hall instead of her study, where she has been holding most of their meetings. This is intentional.

“All rise!” The footman calls out. Chairs and stools scrap the floor as the surprised dwarves leap to their feet. Tele doesn’t look at them but takes her seat on the throne. It is not an ornate article but it is elegant. Oak, the armrests are inlaid with pearl and alabaster. Across the top are elvish runes in mithril. Borin comes from the side door and stands at her elbow.

“Please sit.” Tele says calmly. Her placid face belied her resolve. Again the dwarves outline their demands. Tele listens and says;

“Again, I offer less taxation, I have allowed as much self rule as possible. Yet you still wish for a state.”

“Yes Lady.” The spokesman who was named Olaun rumbled.

Tele nods and says in a clear calm voice; “I say to you Olaun, you can have your state, but not within the borders of this realm. You and your people may take what you need, leave this land and never return. I have not dictated to you how to run your affairs nor has this realm taxed you beyond that other areas are taxed. It seems greater for your share of the wealth is greater. You have grown covetous and complacent and forgot at what price your peace was bought.”

“Who will mine it for you? Who will be the smithies?” Olaun asks, to Tele he seems both alarmed and angered.

“Do you think I have not considered this? Yes, it will take time to re-establish the workings of the mines, but it has been done before. You cannot have both your own state and my protection. To place a break within the life force of this land is not acceptable. This is my final offer.”

Without further fanfare she stood and left the room with Tom jogging once more in her wake. She stops and asks him to write what she has told the dwarves and she was headed for RhyDin town on an important matter. She was going to find Tass.. and have a talk with that dragon.
Of course Alais could be trusted to deliver the missive but she didn’t think Tass would regard it as serious, and something inside drove her as well. She couldn’t say what or why but she knew that if her instincts drove her in this manner, they were not to be ignored.

She arrives in town in early afternoon. All that day proved to be fruitless in her search. She learned from her inquiries Tass was in the Isles. She remembers that some time ago Tass invited her to the Isles but would he honor that request now?

It was fully dark now and she wondered if she would find Tass in the dueling arenas. Opening the door to the Red Dragon Inn she is greeted with the familiar blue tobacco smoke, clink of mugs and talk of the patrons. Tele passes through the room and opens the door to the stairs. She stands atop of the landing looking about the room. She sees that Xenograg, Alais, Sylus and Dimitri were there already. She walks down the stairs and joins Alais for Sylus and Xeno had gone to duel.

It was then she learned of Tasslehofl; he was found near death on the Isles near an unknown shrine by a dragon named Garl. And worse, no one knew how this came about. Listening to Alais.. Tele feels a rising sense of dread. But how Alais described the manner they found Tass did not match what she saw in her vision, however, she felt it in heart she must see Tass as soon as may be. After a long discussion with Alais, Tele felt Alais’s hesitation to get Tele onto Emerald Isle. She didn’t understand this reluctance. If Tele could find a way to reverse Tass’s condition, why not allow her the chance? If it fails, it would be upon her, not Alais. After the tiring debate Tele returned to the castle and did not retire to her apartments. She went directly to the lab in the library tower.

[Alais d Nitesong]

Sylus is having trouble sleeping, and had initially thought it might be the wards placed on I' Taurn by Tass, but he'd stayed at an Inn, and the nightmares remained. At this time, we have no idea what the cause may be.

We spoke about his dreams, and I do wonder if they are tied to the banishment of Kurgen Keep by Artemus. I remain very leary of Sy's brother, I do not like his cold demeanor and sarcasm. He was out of line to make the statements he did about Sy's life, and I remain extremely vexed by his words.

I will assist in trying to recover the Keep if requested, but I will not volunteer to bring it back unless Sy wants my help. Rhaine tells me that Artemus is not the cold, cruel creature I know, and that in fact he is more like Sylus, but I do not see Sy's attributes in Artemus.

Teleperien joined us, and was most distressed to hear that while her missive had been delivered, Tass had been found in very bad shape. She wants me to take her to him, but Tass has tightened security for the islands, and the Elder remains missing. I cannot bring Teleperien to the Isle's without Tass or Khirsah's leave. It is not a question of wanting Teleperien's help, but it IS a matter of not having the power to bring her across Tass' wards.

I told Teleperien of my intent to seek the Darkness for either the 3rd book, OR Khirsah. She is adamant about trying with me, and Sylus begged me not to do this alone, but I cannot bring her to the Isle's, and since the Blackness first touched me there, I must seek it from the place my ties are the strongest to it.

Tass. I am very worried. His condition slowly deteriorates with each day, and my research has turned up no solutions. If we knew what had happened to him, it would be a start, but all I know is that it is tied to the new shrine.

I left RhyDin to return to Matlal. The shrine needs my attention.

Upon returning, I walked the perimeter of the construction site, and the black blade lay quietly on the surface of the foundation stone. Two dragons watched over it, as I approached, it writhed but remained silent. It did not sing to me, luring. I was thankful for the silence, and I moved toward the wilder sections of the island with Garl following.

I paused, inviting him to walk with me. If he's going to be my shadow, he may as well walk with me and keep me company.

[Tasslehofl Momus]

His steps were paced carefully around the ground that had been prepared for the new chamber which would soon find its home here in the old forest. His eyes traced each inch of the rune, which he had previously drawn upon the land, looking for any hint of a flaw, but found none. Then, as he finished, he turned and watched as the portal opened… timing was everything.

It was obvious, even for one who was not as informed as he, to see the caution which surrounded the pseudo-vampire as she stepped from the portal. They had, after all, had their… disagreements.

“I’m honored to see you, m’lord Tasslehofl Momus.”

“Thank you, Rhaine, for agreeing to come to the Islands.” It was business tonight, and as such, he would be civil. There was no need to bring emotions into play this evening… they would rage soon enough. Turning, he once more cast his gaze upon the marked ground. “I need your help with this, Rhaine. As I am sure you are aware, a rune of this... magnitude… is powerful almost to its max. But it is the ‘almost’ that I need your help with.”

Her words were still emotionless, but yet, there was an edge to the tone. “As an energy donor? To make this ‘almost’ turn into nothing?”

He turned once more, and chose to face her squarely. His eyes were a cold and unrevealing as the stone. “If it is energy which you muse use in order to altar the rune’s structure to make it ‘it’s max,’ then yes.”

“Energy? No, but would the structure retain it’s stability when it is at the maximum?”

“It would.”

“As you wish…” And with that, she turned to face the rune, and began to whisper in a long forgotten language. As she began the incantation, a grin creased her lips, one of bitter resolution.

He stood back, and watched her a moment, then he, too, turned to the Rune and began an incantation of his own. He would see that this structure was protected from all, but it did need to be able to be breached… when the time was right.

Time passed, as it always does, and soon Rhaine was finished, as was he. The key has been set, and the Rune itself has grown less frail, if one can say such to a rune of this type.

“More alterations… that would destabilize it. It is maxed.” Her words were almost weak. The play of power had taken a bit out of her, as it did to him as well. “I would not wish to have my physical body here if it does lose it’s stability.”

His head turned to look at her, and the fire still burned deep within the purple eyes. “There is no need to worry of that, on either account. The one who is connected to this rune is well guarded.”

For the first time since she arrived, the psudo-vampire cracked a faint smile. “I would never say anything is well guarded, but who is a neck-bitter to question the words of a Dragon?”

Oddly enough, this brought a small, and even warm, smile to his lips. “Rhaine, the one whose’ blood infuses this Rune can only be reached one way… They are safe and well guarded.

“Thank you, Rhaine.” It was a simple gesture, but one which she would never truly understand the implications of. She had risked much, and in so doing, had shown great trust. It would not be forgotten.

He turned then, and lifted a hand, and pulled the portal open. Her time on the Islands had come and gone, and it was time for her to leave. There were other matters which needed to be tended to, and they did not require others to be present.

“You are welcome, though there is nothing to thank me for. Keep safe.” And with those final words, she stepped back through the portal.

“You as well…”

[Tasslehofl Momus]

He turned then to the empowered Rune, the flame that had become lit within his eyes with the power of holding the rune together roared to a fire that would boil the marrow of the bones.

The forest was old, and as such, held a life of its own. It would guard this sacred ground well… And Alais would not know where the blade was, not yet. Nature, after all, was a power in and of itself. It could not be darkened. It was the one true neutral power.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled on the powers that surrounded him… that of the forest around him, the stone beneath him, and the air above him. With a precision’s grace, he melded together the elements. As his words roared to the true night’s sky, he pulled the structure up from the ground, careful to make certain that the walls which were raised did so through the blood that soaked the ground in the Rune.

Once the structure was constructed and every detail was covered with the Rune of holding and protection, he turned then and stepped through a portal, one that carried him to the heart of Alais’ keystone.

The watch was the elite among the dragon kin and, as he knew each dragon that graced the precious Isles, he knew these better. They were some of his chieftains. His steps carried him to them from the still open portal, and a brief nod was given. That single motion was all that was needed, for the company took flight… and the blade was left with him to protect it. The next watch would come soon enough as it was, so there was no time to waste.

His steps were measured, and the carried him the circumference of the line which has been kept around the blade. As he reached the place he started, his direction was changed as he took a few steps towards the blade. Once more, the direction changed, and this time, the measured steps were carrying him in the opposite direction of his original circle, yet closer to the blade this time. This pattern continued until he could no longer circle the blade without touching it.

He could feel the blade ripple each time he stepped closer. It hungered…

Leaning down, he touched the path which his feed had traced, and gave a single command, letting lose the power that was raging within his eyes. The path immediately leapt to life with its own flame… a cold, purple one.

His eyes watched the blade a moment, watched as it pulled desperately every bit of the light which the flames were giving off into its reflection-less depths. A hard smile turned the edged of his lips as he watched the play of the fire and the blade. Each was absorbing the other… the blade consuming the light, and the fire absorbing the blade tendencies. The image was being set, and the characteristics added…

He was patience… always patience… It would take time for this to completely itself, for the flame had to be consumed to near its last dance. Then, as the last of the purple flames were about to be extinguished, he moved.

His right hand quickly caught up the hilt of the bastard-sword at his hip and drew it forth, only enough to expose the blade. Then, snaking down within a flutter of a heartbeat, he wrapped his hand around the exposed edges, and let Blood draw deep of his own. The left hand, a half tick off from the other, stuck just as quickly out, and wrapped itself tightly and soundly around the hilt of Daemonbane, drawing it free of the super-imposed image.

Immediately, he was assaulted. The blade burned, not with heat, but with cold. It froze the flesh solid. Images raced through his mind of every death, every tortured soul which the blade had relieved of life and breath. The compulsion of each kind that had held the blade before raced through him. Visions of the torments of the hells… Annara, which was on the 6th level of hell, and all of its suffering. The tormented and twisted lives that had been snuffed out as the result of its banishment, and now sought release from their prison…

This assault did not go unanswered. His own visions battled each that came in turn. His life had been long, and deadly. Blood brought forth each torment which he had caused himself. But Blood had been mastered. It too, brought forth each life which was blessed by him. Each realm he had help save. Each dragon which was his brethren, and alive because of him…

The war in his mind continued, yet his body was losing out. The blade was a deadly thing to any, but more so to those who it thought to claim it who was not it’s rightful king. He turned, each step a battle and started his way back to and through the portal. It had been wise to leave that doorway open, for he knew now that there would have been no way which he could have opened another, nor could he have even walked there. Necrosis had come and was wending its way from the blade into his blood.

He knew that his body was being eating away. But the flesh could be healed, and his blood was being preserved through Blood. What mattered now was sealing the blade in the chamber which had been readied for it.

His stepped had carried him to and through the portal, yet he never knew it. It was not until he reached the door of the chamber that he knew where he was, and then, he clamored to his knee’s.

The blade was quick to respond to the weakening which it was causing. It whispered and sung to him; trying to consume him… to consume his soul.

His grip on Blood increased, and the blade cut deeper, severing tendons and crushing bones. His mind realed with the war it was fighting, his body was rotting away… his soul was being taken from him. His eyes opened, and a sight came to him which he had not seen in eons. The True Father…

You are not the rightful one… you are now mine.

The blade was relentless to the assault. It knew it’s power, and even the dragon could not hold forever against it. But there was another…

All Darkness can be held at bay by the light. You will not have my son.

…his soul belonged to another. It was then that he raised himself, and forced his legs to carry him through the door. It took all of what was left of his strength to lift the blade, but it was done, and he placed it on the altar which had been created for it.

You are a false claimant… Death will follow swiftly.

It’s song increased, but the deed was done. With a final thought, he released the vile blade.

“I do not claim you… and death is always next to me…”

Turning, he stumbled to the door and pulled it closed behind him, closing and sealing the Rune that would hold Daemonbane within.

It was only a matter of moments to do the deed which had taken place… or perhaps and eternity had passed. Either way, it was done… and in the end, he collapsed.

[Alais d Nitesong]

The wards around Tass' world are strengthening. Travel between the Emerald Isle's and the outside world is becoming more difficult despite my ties through the wards of my house to the sorceries of the Islands. If this continues, I will have to choose..... Matlal and the Dragon realms, or RhyDin.

There is no real choice. The books, 2 of them, are in Matlal. I can never leave them, and until either Tass is healed, or Khirsah returns, I must remain here.

Garl and I walked toward the shrine. He didn't seem to know any more about the shrine than I did, and he didn't seem overly happy that I was returning to the shrine either.

Tass had been found here, and I walked slowly around the perimeter of the structure. The outer ward, the one the walls passed through is a dragon's blood rune. But, the blood used for this rune was not from a living dragon. This blood was not the blood of life, this was dead blood, and I shivered. What could Tass have been doing with such? Why construct such a rune of binding? What did he seek to hold within?

The structure was completely closed. There was no obvious door or entry. No windows, no way to see within'.

I slowly reached out to touch the exterior wall, and heard Garl's quickly indrawn breath, but the structure held no violent protections, it was cool to the touch. The blood in the rune had been altered as well. There was more than one source of magic used to create this rune. A dead dragon's blood, which has been subtlely altered forms the strength of this rune.

I sat down in the shade and studied the structure. Garl sat with me for a time, silent and noncommunicative. He would venture no information, nor opinions on this thing. With a sigh, I rose, there were things I needed to do to attempt to touch the Primordial Darkness, and the sooner I do that, the better.

[Alais d Nitesong]

Garl and I returned to the construction site, and I glanced at the great Annaran blade as it lay upon the foundation stone. I paused and walked toward it, Garl, my ever present shadow switched directions and we stopped within touch of the stone itself.

The blade writhed as I approached. The black length soaking up the light and reflecting none back. But it remained silent. No lure, no whispers of power. Had Tass silenced it? The effects Tass suffered were the same that any previous false claimants had suffered, except Tass' soul remained intact, and the decay had taken the wouldbe usurpers almost immediately. Besides, the blade remained here, seemingly untouched. It made no sense. None of it.

I turned and headed for the portion of the structure that was complete. There were 6 rooms finished and ready for occupation. The pale salmon feldspar shone like satin beneath my feet, and the interior was cool and airy. The whole structure was a series of arches and curving lines that flowed sensuously in all directions. I loved the way this was turning out. It was balance and grace in soothing shades that compliment the vibrant greens and blues of the Island. I walked these rooms with Garl, "'t ist time, Ah mayst move oot o' Tass' 'ome, 'n intae mine oon." He nodded and sent two dragons back to begin preparations to move my things from Odhran.

I gazed out over the black sand beach toward Tass' home. We needed Khirsah back. They were no longer in contact, and the Elder was needed. Tass deteriorated with each day. His body decaying, and nothing was working so far. I shuddered as the image of the dracolich invaded my thoughts forming a montage with the current image of Tass. Rhaine! It was Rhaine's touch I felt in that blood rune! The unique alteration was Rhaine's work. I knew that with certainty. Why? Why form a binding rune of this power, and supplant it with the alterations of the life mage? Why??

I summoned my spell book to me, and walked slowly toward the black sand.... the last time I'd walked this beach, that Primordial Darkness had touched me.... this time, I would seek it. My fingers curled around the stone Teleperien had given me to take me to Eldicor, but travelling now has become risky. It is possible that even I may not be able to get back to Matlal, and I released the stone. I would go alone to seek the Darkness.

The sun was just past mid day as I stepped onto the glistening obsidian sand, I summoned a tome guardian to hold and protect my spell book as I summoned my staff from oblivion. There could be no trepidation, no fear, for to seek that first blackness from whence the books and Tass had come would not be for the faint hearted. I was about to seek that which had not made me, and that which no Eldarie should ever touch, but it had touched me, here, in this place. And now, I would seek it.

I set the four candles at the four points of the compass, lighting them with the appropriate words to the Valar, and then I drew the circle in the sand with precision, casting it closed and sealed. The crushed bindweed was then mixed with my own blood to tie me to the circle woven. The spell's words wrapped about the circle and my blood and the herb to form a circle that glowed pale greenish against the black sand. As I began the words to summon the darkness, a great shadow of a dragon passed above, and once more I felt the blackness reach for me.

[Khirsah]

He felt her as she, this time, reached for him. His brow creased with concern. She should not be doing this. It was worse than death for her… it was total eradication.

The Third had been correct. He should not have reached out to her. But things had changed. He had mastered the Darkness that had created him. He had learned all that the book taught him. He had grown in his own power. Yet, there was still one vital part of the puzzle which was missing, thus, the reasoning to do what he did.

Yet, here she was, reach back to him. No. It was not right, and he would not see her destroyed. Whatever the cause for her to try, it could wait. Plans were still in motion that needed to bare fruit first. The Younger would take care of her and her matters.

Turning his mind to her, he pulled the darkness once more to him, removing it from her reach. He would not see her left to Nothing… yet.

[QueenTeleperien]

Night is full upon Eldicor, the moon setting in the east. Candles are lit in the small room above the library where Teleperien sits with several spell books open on the desk in front of her.

“Ahh.. here it is.” She murmurs to herself. It is the spell used a few years back when Luthien was in need of healing when she lay at death’s door. It is a difficult spell, one that is not to be taken lightly. Would it be helpful on a dragon? Nomrah’s magic was older and deeper than hers alone, and he had hinted as strong as a dragon’s spell. Her only concern was could she withstand the power?

She opens the overhead door to the heavens. The light of the waning moon shines in as it prepares it westward march to the horizon. The light scent of summer is carried on the breeze along with the sound of song whispered among the branches of the trees.

It mesmerizes Tele. Closing her eyes she lifts her hands to the sky in silent worship then settled to meditate, to find the strength to fulfill this task she was to take upon herself. How long she meditated she did not know, yet during this time she was visited.

Eonwë the Maia who so blessed Eldicor came to her.

“Daughter what do you plan?”

“A friend lays near death, I wish to bring healing enough to stop his travels.”

“If this is your friend’s time, is it your will to say otherwise?”

To this Teleperien did not answer immediately. “I must try Eonwë. He is a friend.. a pendragron.”

“A dragon.” He pauses, his words are now full of caution. “Have a care daughter. To use a spell upon a dragon has great risk. You may be over-come with the power within the dragon.”

“What must I do?”

To this Eonwe spoke to her in the language of the Valar. Though she only understood little of the language, she felt the strength of the Eldar course through her. He then fades away, she is now alone in the tower. In her slender hand is an amulet of emerald green. She stands, gathers the needed items for the spell. A small vial, the herbs, and most importantly an amulet as well as the spell book and she walked to corner cabinet that ran as tall as Tele. She reached for the knob speaking the words Nomrah taught her long ago. A language she did not understand.. a magic that was as old as dragon spells.

“Anya renthnon..” The door at first showed nothing, then a green outline of the door appeared and slowly grew in strength. Slowly the door disappeared and in side stood Nomrah’s staff. Hesitantly she reaches inside the closet and grasps the staff and pulls it out. At once the gem atop glowed brightly as it absorbed the power of the Valar that now pulsated through her.

Alais would not assist her, she knew this in her heart. So, she would find a way apart from her.

[Alais d Nitesong]

The Blackness of Primordial Darkness is a tangible darkness. It is something that I can feel, taste, smell, even hear, but there is no sight here, not for me. Memories of that first experience came flooding back as the great shadow passed overhead, and the darkness began to embrace my call. Wrapping me into it's encirclement, enfolding me in that unique sensation.

The Blackness came, and in that blackness I felt something familiar, a flicker but for a moment, and then the Blackness receded. Pulling away almost with reluctance, the gentle unfolding of the welcoming Blackness, but there was a sentience in that Dark that retreated from my reach, stealing the Darkness back from my summons. A directed intelligence was pulling the Darkness away from my call, forcing it to recede and refuse my admission.

Khirsah yet remained in the Primordial Darkness, and he was not willing to return, despite my need to find him, despite the Third's need, despite the need of his kind. Part of me was relieved to know Khirsah yet survived, and part of me rages that he will not come for his brother's need. An inner voice called for Khirsah, almost a pleading for him to hear me, but I cannot know if he did. Could an Eldarie plea reach him in that place? Would it even matter if he did hear me? Would anything matter to Khirsah in that place of origination?

I fell to my knees in the black sand. My hands clasped around the white rouwan wood staff tightly as it sank deeply into the sand, and a thin line of deep crimson blood ran down the white wood from where I'd drawn blood for my binding circle. My head bowed in fatique and defeat. Khirsah and the Darkness had rejected me. I had been left within the circle I'd wrought, in absolute exhaustion and failure. I was alone in the gloaming, with only the sound of the water caressing the sand.

The candles sputtered in the near twilight, and a gust of cold wind blew them out entirely. Cold wrapped itself around my body as I remained knelt in the warm black sand, the warded circle softly glimmered pale green in the gathering gloom. The faintest thread of a new moon rose above the horizon, and I remained kneeling in the sand, my head bowed low as that silver promise of renewal rose into the night sky.