Tales of the White Snake

[KelatheSkelicia]

Kelathe woke suddenly, sweat sheathing her slender frame. Hands trembled as she leaned over to switch on the simple light next to her bed. She tucked her knees up, putting her head in her hands, and letting the dream slowly fade from her. Her body shivered as the air cooled around her. Sweaty curls fell around her body as she shifted, pulling open a drawer in her nightstand.

She had been to Midnight Oils today, but there had been no word from Jaycy since she had left. Kelathe was worried for her, but she understood that the mission required silence from the link that captured the three of them.

Kel’s shields were strong, tight around herself and Pslyder. She hated to do it without asking his permission, but if he knew what Jaycy were going through, the mission might be jeopardized, and with that, Jaycy’s life. Kel wasn’t going to let him go off and do something that might hurt all of three of them. She was very disappointed in herself. She should have said something more to Jaycy. But she knew, from their talk, that words, especially hers, would have no effect on her decision to run.

Kel had to let her go.

From the drawer, Kel pulled out a leather bound journal with creamy, thick pages. She found the fountain pen she had purchased as well. She figured she would have needed an excuse to be at Midnight Oils, anyway, and buying a new journal was probably as good as any. Having a job allowed her to afford some luxuries.

Kelathe paused, hand posed with pen, above the empty paper, eyes staring. She had found Pslyder on the roof, this evening, after she left work. Climbing the ladder, she had manifested a long, warm black jacket, and sat at his side. Neither of them spoke. She had fallen asleep, lying against his arm. She had only woken up when he had carried her to bed.
She was exhausted, but her dreams made her want to write, to remember.

She set pen to paper, and began.

I guess the first thing I remember about Margo was her eyes. She was always watching, always taking note of things around her. We connected on a level that was far beyond the physical – in fact, we never touched each other beyond companionable hugs throughout our entire time together. However, we were in love.

I know now that that is the emotion that I truly felt for her, even if I had a hard time saying it. Now I understand, more than ever, her final words to me. It was those words that I keep reflecting on, keep haunting my dreams.

I suppose, for the first time, I should write about how Margo died. It’s a subject that I’ve avoided thinking about since I came to this place. I can’t, anymore. Of all things I have to learn to live with, this is one of the hardest.

Margo was a good handler. She was there for me, kept me out of danger. We developed a sort of shorthand speaking that allowed us to communicate easier when I was on a job. I did what I was told, in order to keep her out of danger, keep her from charging in to haul me out of bad situations.

Only once did she ever have to save me. That one time cost her life. I don’t remember the exact circumstances. I was sent in to assassinate an ambassador. I don’t even remember where he was from. I do know he had been sent with a proposal that certain other political figures did not want the President to see.

Up until that point, the operation I worked for had been kept highly secret. Our headquarters were in a space station! Those invisible faces who funded us assumed we would never be found out. They did not plan for human fallibility.

This ambassador had come prepared. His bodyguards had been armed with stun wands, which produced small electrical bursts. Small, yes, but enough to disrupt my intangibility. Suddenly, I found myself tangible, visible, and held down by several pairs of hostile hands. My headset was stripped off of me, as was the rest of my gear. Small caliber guns, knives, all were laid out for the inspection of the man I was sent to kill. I never carried much, but what I did carry had only one specific task: to murder.

I remember the man, distinctly. He was short, dark, with curly hair cut close to his head. He had rather large hands. He liked to slap, and punch. I had extensive training in handling many types of torture. I did not expect, however, for Margo to be part of it.

They did things to her, things I can’t even begin to describe. I remember her bloody face, one eye closed, as she begged them to kill her.

A few tears fell to the page, blurring some of her words.

They killed her. It wasn’t quick, in the end. A direct gunshot wound to the stomach is always fatal without medical attention. They left me alone with her, and I held her head in my lap. She held my hands, trembling in pain. Her beautiful face...

Several painful hours later, she gasped. It was close to the end. In the final moment before she closed her eyes for good, Margo looked up at me. These words haunted me in my captivity, and echo through my dreams even now.

“Live, my love. For both of us.”

I screamed in rage when she died: at our captors, at our lives, at the fact that I never once told her how I felt about her, at my stupidity at getting caught.

After that, things were a blur for a while. I know that I was knocked out, and carried away. I ended up in a small room, solid, with no windows. My first thought was to escape as quickly as possible, but before I could attempt it, an intercom I had not noticed before informed me of how hopeless my situation was.

The room’s walls had several layers, and in between each layer nitrous oxide was injected. The door was electrified, as was the floor and walls all around the small room where I was confined. Gas and electricity – my two worst enemies. Someone had really done their homework.

There was worse.

I was under arrest, and headed to trial for the execution of the President of the United States. A crime I obviously could not have committed, having been captured several days.

I’m not going to write out all the details of my trial. They had footage – and this was the hard part to believe – of me, opening fire on the President after stepping out of the wall. They had fingerprints on the gun that matched my own. Throughout the months of my trial, every time I was present in the courtroom, Mr. Jacobs was there.

He did not speak up for me. He did not even look me in the eye. I had been appointed a defense attorney by the state, but even he thought I was distasteful. The government I had been working for, had dedicated my life to, had abandoned me.

Though the trial lasted months, it was mostly for show. What they really wanted was to torture me even further. I was kept in that room, only given food and water. I was alone with my thoughts. Only once, did I awake to a difference.

Mr. Jacobs was in the room with me, leaning over my bed. His hands were behind his back, and he smiled when I opened my eyes. I was so stunned; I didn’t know what to say.

He spoke. His words cut me to the core. “Your final lesson, Kelathe. Everyone is expendable. Even you.”

He turned, and was let out of the room. I couldn’t move. I could hardly breathe.

The sentence was handed down the next day. My crime, the judge said, was unredeemable. My life was forfeit to the United States, for the death of their President. Mr. Jacobs – Ev – wasn’t there.

My whole world crashed down around me. I was numb. Everything I thought I was working for had abandoned me. My love, my Margo, was gone forever. I had nothing left to live for, and no way to escape what I thought to be my fate.

Most people on death row sit there for years while the system grinds on. I was executed within a week. It seems kind of odd to say it that way, to say that I died. I don’t know how else to explain it.

I wasn’t given a last meal. I wasn’t given the comfort of a human priest. They simply flooded the room where I had been kept with gas, and waited.

I remember lying on the floor, gasping for breath, eyes watering. My lungs were on fire, and my heart pounded in my ears. Suddenly, everything went dark.

I awoke, sunlight streaming on my face. I was still in my prison uniform, but I lay outside, surrounded by trees and nature. I took a deep breath. I thought, perhaps, that this was heaven.

It was Battlefield Park.

I was in Rhy’Din. I had no idea how it had happened, or why I was still alive. My only thought was that somehow, Margo had been looking out for me.

Kelathe laid the pen aside, glancing back over the entry she had just finished. She wiped tears from her eyes, and took a couple of deep breaths. She replaced the journal back in the drawer, and switched out the lights.

Dawn comes slowly to the sleepless.

[KelatheSkelicia]

Kel moved through her rounds at Riverview in a daze, checking on patients who required her special diagnostic skills. A part of her cringed away from her work, terrified of what might happen if she was incapable of keeping control.

She had no memory of her magic duel with Neo the night before. What she did have, was bruises on her throat from Sivanna, which were enough to frighten her.

She stopped outside the break room, but did not go in. She watched, unwilling to join in the laughter and cutting up that other employees engaged in. At least not today. She sipped a bottle of water, trying to keep her hands from shaking.

The loudspeaker crackled faintly, and the charming voice of Anya’s assistant, Xenia, echoed faintly through the hospital. “Kelathe, please report to Dr. Valkonan’s office.” The message made her heart sink even further.

It would have been easy to simply walk straight there through the walls, but Kelathe decided to take the long route. She tried, desperately, not to let her step be trudging, even offering smiles to those patients and co-workers she passed in the halls.

She walked past the receptionist’s desk, giving the woman a smile, and headed for Xenia’s office. She opened the doors quietly, and stepped inside. The woman was busy at her computer console, working hard. Kel cleared her throat, and Xenia looked up. “Go on in. She’s waiting for you.”

Kel nodded, and headed toward the next set of doors. Before she entered, she ran her hand over the thick wood, trying to collect herself. Her main fear was that Anya would fire her, would make her leave the hospital, where she had finally found a bit of purpose in her new life.

A moment later, she squared her shoulders, and stepped into Anya’s office. The Doctor was tucked into her comfortable desk chair, wearing pale green scrubs with a white lab coat over them. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back in a single braid. Her rings glittered on her fingers as she sorted through files on her desk. Anya looked up, and smiled in Kel’s direction. “Have a seat.” She gestured to one of the chairs on the other side of her desk.

Kel took a seat, on the edge, hands folded her lap. She studied her hands, but since her hair was back in a long braid, her curls couldn’t hide the concern on her face.

Anya swiveled in her ergonomically designed chair, and filled two large mugs from the coffee maker set to one side of her cherrywood desk. One was set before Kelathe, and the other remained in front of her for the moment. Coffee at the hospital was a little different, providing a little extra kick of caffeine, and Kel was grateful for it. She wrapped long, white fingers around the mug, and took a sip.

"Do you know why I asked you here, Kelathe?" Anya questioned, as she removed the glasses she used for reading.

"I imagine, Dr. Valkonan, that is has something to do with the incident in the Annex last night," Kel said softly, taking another sip of her coffee, trying hard to steady her hands.

"You are right, it does. But probably not for those reasons you are having so much trouble trying not to think." Anya smiled at Kel's surprised look. "I know things haven't been easy since you gained control over the evil inside you. I just wanted to tell you that if you ever needed to talk, you can come to me."

Kelathe set back a little in her chair, and studied the woman across from her. "What about Sivanna? Isn't she your friend?"

Anya spoke softly. "Da, she is. But, just because she hasn't seen the good in you yet, doesn't mean that I have to ignore what I have seen. You are a good person in your heart, despite the creature that you have trapped in your mind."


Kel remained speechless, simply nodding.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like it if you stopped by Mr. Fenner's room and see if you can't be of some help there."

Kel finished her coffee and stood, quietly turning toward the door.

"And Kel?"

She turned back to look at Anya.

"Smile. It lights up your whole face when you mean it." Anya smiled at the woman.

The answering smile from the albino was nothing short of beautiful.

Special Thanks to Anya and Sivanna!

[KelatheSkelicia]

Kelathe left the Outback hand in hand with Psly and Jaycy. She squeezed Jaycy's fingers delicately, letting the tiny woman guide her steps.

As late as it was, they were headed for the stationary shop, Midnight Oils - a shop that Jaycy owned. Selling stationary was simply a front for its other, more important business - information-gathering and smuggling.

They were going there so that Jaycy could direct her manager to allow Kel and Psly full access to the job files, and the opportunity to take jobs as they wished. Jaycy also informed Alsen, the manager, that the money that came from the jobs Kel took would go straight to her, instead of being out back into the coffers of Midnight Oils. There were rules established for taking these missions, as well, including having a basic plan filed before leaving. Kel and Psly were given access to the other working staff, including the mage who made teleportation crystals for Jaycy, and a small storehouse of magical items they might find useful to take with them. Job files could not leave the backroom.

Kel listened to all this with half an ear, crimson eyes glittering faintly in the low light. Occasionally, she would glance to where Jaycy leaned comfortably in Psly's arms, and grew impatient to be finished.

She had, after all, a new house of her own waiting for her. Hopefully, a warm embrace was waiting for her as well.

A chuckling voice broke through her reverie, as Pslyder spoke inside her mind. Go home, Kel. And enjoy your new gift. Give Neo something to make you both smile..

There was a mental murmur of agreement from Jaycy as well. A wave of warmth engulfed her, and as yet unsatisfied wanting.

Before she left, she kissed them both gently on the lips, an unspoken promise that she would be safe this evening.

Her heart lighter than air, she parted ways with them at the door of the shop. She walked, occasionally stopping to check the directions she'd been given. Her hand rested on the beautiful carved hilt of the katana Psly have her, fingers gently running over the pommel. The area she was in was one that she recognized, because she had passed through it a couple times on her way to the Barn.

Her heart beat excitedly, every step seeming to take ages before her foot met the ground again. Suddenly she was there, standing at the front gate. It was too dark to see much detail of the little house from the outside, but a soft, inviting glow poured from the windows, over the well kept lawn. Her heart leapt into her throat; she hoped that it was Neo who was waiting for her.

She moved quickly up the cobblestone sidewalk, reaching the front door. Her hands fumbled the key from her pocket and jittered it around the lock, as a new feeling flooded her senses - home. It was her own place, where she didn't have to ask where the clean sheets were or where the towels were kept. She didn't have to worry about having company over. Small things, which seemed so meaningless before.

The front hall opened up into a rather cozy living room, with a fireplace. A rather comfortable-looking set of chairs and couch dominated the room. A fire crackled, throwing just enough light into the room for Kelathe to notice the most important feature of the room - Neo Eternity, lying slightly sprawled, in his blue jeans and tee shirt, on her couch. He seemed to be dozing.

Kel slipped silently up to his side, and knelt next to the couch, one hand reaching to brush raven hair away from his face. Blue eyes, the color of the ocean, opened to meet her crimson gaze, and he pressed a kiss to the palm of the hand that touched him. She let herself be pulled down onto the couch with him. Without words, with nothing more than a deep kiss, all the passion restrained in public began to release - first in a trickle, and then, a flood.

******

Hours later, nestled next to Neo's warmth and spent from their ardor, Kelathe began to doze herself. A heated feeling, beginning low in her belly, and spreading to infuse all of her, nearly caused her shake off her incoming slumber. The heat was not painful - it brought with a sense of comfort, of something magical about to happen. Kel surrendered to sleep, a smile crossing her features.

A final parry, Hyperion ringing low against his opponent's sword, the final point needed to be triumphant. He stood, wiping sweat from his brow, and saluted, before reaching out for her hand. She was his Lady of Honor, and now, he was a Baron.

Both of them, bent in study in the Celestial Tower. Kel, leaning over to kiss his cheek, and pour him a fresh cup of coffee.

Kelathe was rapt, the visions filling her with wonder. She had never considered herself ambitious. Power was not something she sought for herself.

She made it to the outskirts of town. She had been gone nearly a month, and there were moments she lost hope that she would ever be back. Before she got too far into town, three large engines could be heard, and she turned. Pslyder, Jaycy and Neo slid off their bikes, running towards her. Neo reached her first, pulling her in close, and suddenly, she was embraced from all sides. Kel held tight to all three, letting them take her home.

Home.

The visions continued long into the night, some more important than others. Kel, having sudden success at the duels, and rising in the ranks for all three sports. A passionate kiss shared, unafraid and unbroken.

The demon stood cowed in front of her. Kel stood tall in her mind, the strength of Psly and Jaycy entwined with her own. Finally, the demon understood that it would never gain control of her body again. It slithered slowly back into its prison, slumped in defeat.

The visions caused by the blessed cake and wine Anya's fiancé Antonio shared with them for Yule caused tears to stream down Kel's cheeks. These were not tears of fear or pain or sadness.

These were tears of cleansing and joy.

In the light of dawn, Kelathe pulled closer to Neo, hope filling her heart.

Special thanks to Antonio, Neo, Jaycy, Psly.

[KelatheSkelicia]

Kelathe slipped slowly through the trees, her steps light. Not a single animal noticed her presence as she stalked towards the small stand of houses. Intangible, invisible, she had learned to move without making noise, to keep her shadow hidden, and to keep her breathing to a minimum without overexerting herself.

This was her first assignment from Midnight Oils, and it caused a low rush of adrenaline to fill her system. Her senses felt sharper, her vision crisper, despite the fact that the rising sun typically irritated her eyes.

She arrived at the empty cottages, slipping slowly in and out of them, through the disrepair and neglect of the walls, not disturbing anything. According to the file, a meeting with a buyer was supposed to take place early in the morning, and she wanted to be prepared to enter any of the small cottages without giving herself away.

Her mind, her body began to grow still. She stood, a little ways apart from the small grouping of houses, watching for the buyer and the seller to arrive. She was rewarded after a short while, by the sound of horse hooves padding through the undergrowth. Kelathe turned, watching a slight man leading his horse through the trees, into the clearing that the houses appeared to be built around.

Kel memorized the man’s features, his clothing, and his movements. Though he was slight of frame, he appeared to be muscular. He was also very well dressed, well groomed. He wore a short rapier on one side, and a dagger on the other. Kel did not doubt that he knew how to handle both weapons. He had long, pointed ears, indicating an elven heritage. This, then, was one of the foppish nobles she had read about in the job file. The way he led his horse belied a certain amount of confidence. The man smelled like money.

He looked around, checking the sky a moment. He loosely tied his horse to a post in front of one of the houses, and leaned against its shoulder, as if waiting. It seemed like he was early. She tucked herself back against a tree, and watched. This, then, must be the buyer.

It wasn’t much longer before she heard another sound, several horses, laboring to pull some kind of heavy coach. There was no clear path to the small village, but the horses seemed to be doing well in getting there. She stepped back further into the tree, leaving only her face exposed, though they would not be able to see her.

The coach door swung open slowly. Kel’s body tensed. According to her information, while there were several young nobles involved in this, they had one ringleader. The gentleman was, perhaps, the most wealthy, but the least well known of the group. He made his living in the slave trade, legitimately, but his side deals were becoming a concern. Surprisingly, he dealt mostly in exotic flesh, for his regular trade. He was a half-elf, putting him in a delicate position in his other dealings. From the file, he kidnapped and sold young human and half-elf girls.

She kept her disgust in check, spending more time watching the newcomer to the little village. His clothing was nondescript, but the quality gave him away. The clothing was loose enough to conceal weaponry, and Kel observed the outline of a dagger hilt somewhere between his shoulder blades. This one, then, was the more dangerous of the two.

She slipped from the tree, moving closer to the pair, to listen in to what they had to say.

“Did you find what I wanted?” The first man asked. His voice was nasally, demanding.

“Of course. Would you like to test the product before we discuss payment?” The second man folded his arms across his chest, a smirk crossing his lips.

“You mean, I can try the…” The first man began, but the second hushed him, moving instead for the carriage. He reached inside, pulling a length of chain from a hook near the door. He tugged on it a little, whispering a few harsh words that she didn’t quite catch.

What happened next nearly caused Kel to break all of her training. She tensed, eyes wide, as a young human boy crawled from the carriage. Young was an understatement – the child couldn’t be more than seven or eight years old. His movements were sluggish, his eyes glazed, as if he had been heavily drugged. The man tugged on the chain, pulling the boy a little closer. The boy wore nothing more than a collar and a loincloth.

The buyer’s eyes turned greedy as he eyed the child. Kel shivered at the pure evil she felt radiating from him. Her training took over, and she slipped a little closer, inside of the seller, to listen to his surface thoughts as he led the boy towards one of the empty cottages. A name, a place of business… all those things Kel needed to know in order to complete her mission.

Before the child’s cries could begin, Kel slipped away, back towards Rhy’din. It would be a long walk, enough for her anger to simmer, and grow.

[KelatheSkelicia]

Kelathe eased herself slowly out of Jaycy’s bed. She had only slept a few hours after their long talk, but she needed to be in place before the sun came up. It had not taken her long to prepare exactly how and when she was going to kill the man who was responsible for the kidnapping and selling of young children.

Kel shivered as she pulled on the clothes she brought with her. For this, she didn’t want to expend the energy needed to maintain the illusion of clothing. Loose, black slacks and a black turtleneck. Long curls, a tumble of raven and snow, were tied into a ponytail, and tucked up into a black cap she had bought specifically for keeping her hair out of her face. She slipped her knives into her boots, and into the custom made sheathes on her wrists. Another was strapped to small of her back. Two more were tucked up in her cap, hidden in her hair. A pouch at her side contained specially made knives she used for internal work.

When she looked up, Jaycy was watching her, red with silver hair fanned out on the pillow she had been sleeping on. Kelathe briefly sat on the bed next to her, head bowed. Jaycy reached around her to hug her tightly to her small body, briefly, but there were no words between them.

There was none at that moment that mattered.

Kel simply used her abilities to leave the Manor. Her destination was not too far away. There were several houses of a wealthier nature clustered together close to the borders of Seaside, and her target laid within one of these homes.

The target was known to be less flamboyant with his wealth than some of his cohorts, but he was paranoid about the security of his family. Kel's mind deliberately ran through the information she had gathered the past few days. He had two younger children, one boy, one girl. They were a quarter elf, as he had married a human woman. The woman was herself involved with the slave ring, though less than her husband. She would be easy to persuade to retire from the other illicit activities her husband engaged in.

Kelathe had carefully tested the houses defenses, finding that they were not capable of stopping her.

She did not hesitate to step through the wall surrounding the house, and into the house itself. Guards, ever on alert for a threat to their master, did not, could not, acknowledge her as a threat. She slipped by them, breathing quieted, steps light.

Her destination was at the end of a short hallway, up a flight of stairs that rose elegantly from the first to third floor. The master’s bedroom lay on the third floor, past the children’s rooms. Kel thought, bitterly, that the man’s best defenses were surrounding the room he lay in, instead of those of his precious children. She ignored the sleeping babes, as she was certain they would be getting much less comfortable rest after today, no matter how careful she was. Her mission here was death.

Her focus narrowed to the door she was approaching, and her target lying defenseless against her within. She slipped through the door, standing back against the wall so that she could allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light.

Two forms, wrapped comfortably in a wealth of down comforters. A snarl crossed Kelathe’s features as she stalked towards the man. She remembered the whimpers of a single boy, piteously crying as this man stood by and let his “property” be used.

Kel slipped onto the bed, straddling the man, though he would never actually feel her touch. Cold rage filled her as she stared down at him, slowly plunging her intangible fingers into his chest. He snored peacefully on, completely unaware.

She sent her senses into his physical frame, visions of meshed networks that made up the complicated nervous and blood networks in his body. Her first task was to shut down his legs and arms, keep him from screaming, without killing him immediately. This task was simple, as she cut the connection between his brain and spinal cord with one of the specialized knives she had brought with her. She had studied anatomy extensively, and knew where and how to cut to paralyze, instead of kill.

His eyes opened, staring at nothing, searching desperately, full of fear. A cold sweat broke out across his forehead, and goosebumps covered the flesh of his arms.

But he could not move.

She slide her hands slowly down his sides, knowing that he felt every touch. She leaned down, close to his ear, and whispered.

“I am the death in the night, the death you don’t deserve. I’m here to stop the pain you cause, and to make you a lesson that no one shall forget.”

His eyes widened more, tears slipping down his cheeks. She sat up and watched him a moment, letting him just barely feel the pressure of her legs, her weight on his chest. She reached into the pouch at her side, removing two small hooks.

Intangible yet again, she reached inside, finding a single artery close to his lungs. She hooked it, slowly separating it from surrounding tissue. It was a delicate move, but painful, as was evident by the wide look in the slaver’s eyes. Quickly, she used the hooks to tie a knot. She made a single cut in the artery, in the loop she had created.

Blood began to back up into his system, flooding his heart. His face slowly turned red, and then pale, as oxygen was disrupted from entering his brain. It was a slow, painful way to die. Kelathe stood by the bed, hands clenched at her sides, until his chest hitched the final time. She checked his pulse, to confirm.

Target eliminated.

She turned to leave, sinking slowly through the floor, through the wall. And into a room that had not been on the blueprints she had been given. She hissed curses in her mind, instantly on alert. There was no light in the room. She heard movement, a low metallic rustling, as if of chains. She knelt down, hand reaching out, tangible again, and encountered flesh. A sob, and a flinching back away from her. She knew that voice, had heard it in her dreams from the moment she had to walk away from it.

It was the boy.

She whispered softly, assurances and comforting words, as she rocked the boy gently in her arms. She used the powers she had been given to help put him at ease. After a short while, he was asleep. Kelathe lifted his weight, and tested her intangibility. He disappeared with her. He was so small, so light; it was nothing for her to carry him through the walls, out into the street, and away from his personal hell.

****

It was full daylight, outside. Kel sat next to a bed in Arcadia, holding the fragile hand of Marcus. He had a name, one he had given up with gentle coaxing. He was not well, but she had assurances that he would be.

As she sat, holding his hand, smiling down at his sleeping face, she reached into her pocket, and retrieved her cell phone. A simple press of a couple buttons, and she waited for an answer.

“Neo? I… need you to come to Arcadia. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

[KelatheSkelicia]

How does one kill a dragon? This is a question that is almost as old as some of the dragons themselves. It is not as easily solved as creating a sharp weapon and hacking away at vital areas, as it is the case with several types of magical creatures. Nor are dragons typical of the broad category “magical creature”. They belong in a class all of their own. Magic and magical weapons also fail when attempting to end the life of such a majestic creature.

In order to completely destroy a dragon, you must harm its spirit. This method is not a quick one, nor is it granted any glory. Only misery awaits one who takes it upon themselves to kill a dragon in this way.

There have been few known cases of where a dragon has truly died. In each case, a solitary dragon suffered a wound of the spirit. The dragon lost its will to move, to feed, to even live. Making the metamorphic change in order to blend in became difficult, nigh on impossible for the dragons in question. This was not due to a loss of ability, but to a loss of faith of themselves.

Wound a dragon’s spirit, and you wound him mortally.

Kelathe read the passage over, and over again, searching for deeper meaning. Though the book provided no specific weapons or ideas on how to make them, it had led her in the right direction. She closed the book slowly, marking her place, and turned to the open journal on her desk.

How do you heal a dragon’s spirit? How do I heal Psly?


********

There was a knock, on a door, in a country estate not so far away from central Rhy’din. A woman, well-dressed, who had been pouring over a set of maps on her oaken desk gestured, and a guard opened the door. A young boy was escorted in, obviously a street rat with his grimy clothes and dirty face.

“Yes, what do you want? Speak quickly, boy. I don’t have much time.”

The boy rubbed his dirty nose with a shirt sleeve, before speaking,
“Begging your pardon, lady, but I was paid to deliver a message to you. Paid good, too. The message is this,” the boy drew himself up, puffing out his chest a little, “there is a caravan headed this way, carrying the daughter of your sister. She is protected by three. While two of those three are invulnerable, one of them is not. She has the ability of invisibility, but this can be disrupted by any kind of elec…elek…electrical charge.”

The boy stumbled over his words, as he watched the noblewoman’s eyes go wider. She dismissed him with one hand, and the guard began to shove him rudely through the door.

“Well, it seems someone is looking out for us….” The lady said. She moved the map aside, and began to make a list of the equipment available to her, including her now personal favorite, handheld electroshock weapons.

[KelatheSkelicia]

((Written as a journal entry.))


I see her in my dreams. Every time I close my eyes, Jenillisa’s cruel laughter is in my ears. Each time seems so much worse than before. There is no escape from it, waking or dreaming. Or so it seems.

I saw her coerce the child into taking vengeance on the father who had destroyed her innocence, and the mother who had turned her back on her children. A part of me rejoiced at what seemed like the perfect justice. What has shamed me is that part has nothing to do with the demon I try so hard to keep contained.

I watched with secret glee as she lured the man, using a mask of naivety, of innocence. I could taste the man’s guilt even before Jen ripped him apart. That man – he had killed, had raped – and this was his fitting in, to be raped by the hands of a woman of his life.

I know this about Jenillisa – there is more to her than we know. It is dangerous to underestimate her abilities, yes. It is even more dangerous to assume that this woman is human, with human cravings and sensibilities. I don’t think we can appeal to her in this way.

That statement, more than anything, brings laughter to my lips. After all, what makes a person human? Am I any more or less human than she is? I have the genetic basis of a snake. I am bound to a demon. Am I, then, less human than she? I don’t think so. In fact, I believe that a capacity to love is the key difference between the two of us.

I keep seeing another woman in my dreams, with Jen. Mostly associated with the most deadly of her personalities – Sa. The woman is fair, with striking purple eyes, and long blonde hair. I watch, helpless, as Sa rips her apart, completely destroys that beauty.

No. That is wrong. When I see this woman, with Sa, it is as if she is adding to the beauty that is already there. There is something pleading in those jewel-like eyes, something demanding the attention that Sa is giving to her. It frightens me, that someone could loathe life so much as to give themselves up to the ministrations of a creature as horrible as Sa.

I’ve seen this woman many times, now. Each time seems stranger than the last. I think, maybe, that this is a premonition, that maybe I’m supposed to somehow protect this girl from Jenillisa.

Last night, I watched Sa perform something that was nothing less than a living autopsy on the woman, as she still breathed. Sa peeled back flesh, cauterizing wounds, as the woman cried out. Cried out Sa’s name in a voice that seemed almost loving. And, strangely, Sa kissed the woman tenderly upon the lips just before she ripped out her throat in one violent motion. The dream fades there, and I can’t see where they are.

In both their eyes, I see insanity. I also saw love. Caring. There was something almost soft there, between them.

No. I cannot begin to think that way. It was a mockery, a falsehood meant to throw me off track. A monster like Jenillisa could never love anyone but herself. She is without a heart. Without a true purpose in life, except to see the suffering of others.

I think, now, that I understand a few basic reasons why the demon is so attracted to her. She is who I was before I found I had a heart. What I was being groomed to be before I ever came to Rhy’Din. She is so close to the demon’s ideal host, except for one thing.

Control.

The demon does not want to share its host. It wants - craves – total control. That is something it would never have with Jenillisa. It would be a constant struggle with the various personalities for dominance.

Besides which, the demon has already made its choice. We are stuck with each other, from now until something ends this life I have been given. I must learn to be stronger, to take advantage of the demon as it so easily takes advantage of me.

Something else to consider, oh journal of mine. Neo and I – we have to work as a team. To strike together, using both of our strengths to fight this evil woman.

In my heart, I feel we have found an adversary that will keep us looking over our shoulders for a long time to come.

I must think on this problem more. The amulet is the key.

Signed simply,
The White Snake