ooc: Monster post!

<font color=lightgreen>Deiter stared at the cracked lines in the stone ceiling. He would often spend his time studying small details to give him a sense of perspective. Hours... months... years... he had no idea how long he had been here. His memories were always fuzzy, and it was hard to concentrate on anything from his past but for more then a few seconds before the spasms would come. He tried to ignore the sharp pain that would explode inside his head whenever the face of a young half-elven woman would appear. Deiter felt connected to her as her blue eyes started to focus. His heart would always clench in his chest when he saw her in his mind.

He couldn't explain who she was, or why the image of this young woman caused emotions to fill his heart. Deiter longed to see her face again but the pain was causing him to thrash against the floor now. Crying out, he tried to clear his mind until the agony in his head became a dull throb. Breathing heavily, he sagged against the wall and stared down at his shaking hands. What was wrong with him? Who was she? Why couldn't he remember anything? He wouldn't have even been alive if it wasn't for Nefris. At the thought of Nefris, Deiter clenched his fists and glared at the locked door across from him.

Nefris had found him battered and barely hanging onto life in a forest Deiter couldn't name. The old man wore robes the color of dried blood, and his golden eyes were always in suspicious slits. He had nursed Deiter back to health and claimed the young ranger owed him his life. Deiter was thankful of the old man, but Nefris forced him into life long servitude as payment. At first he resisted and tried many times to escape, but each time Nefris would bring him back. It was then Deiter realized Nefris was not a feeble old man, but in fact an arch-mage.

The half-elf's features grew grim when he thought of the punishments he received every time he disobeyed him. Unclenching his fists, he stared down at his right arm. He flexed it a little and winced from the strain his thrashing had caused it. Underneath his sleeve was a series of scars running from his wrist to his elbow.

A young messenger of Nefris had returned one day with bad news about a contact of his on the coast. In a fury, the old man hit the boy across the face, knocking him to the ground, and demanded Deiter to kill him. The ranger refused. Chanting out loud, not caring who heard, Nefris took a hold of Deiter's body and forced him to kill the boy. He remembered staring into the terrified brown eyes of the messenger as he ran the child cleanly through with a sword.

Deiter's green eyes grew damp as he slumped to the floor. What had he done... <font color=gold>Looking down at the dead body, Nefris simply shook his head and spat at it. Turning to Deiter, he reached down and gripped the ranger's right arm. "Now for your disobedience..." Gripping tightly, he started to smirk as coils of sickly yellow light extended from his fingers and latched onto Deiter's forearm.</font> The coils started to tighten, and the more Deiter struggled to get away the tighter the coils became until his arm was broken.

Leaning his head back against the wall, Deiter wondered if things would ever be the same again. His right arm never healed properly and was now weaker then his left. It didn't bother him often unless under serious strain. He had learned to become left handed to compensate. Grumbling to himself, he stood up and stretched to relieve his cramped muscles. He was about to go back to his ceiling inspection when he heard shouting on the other side of the door. Curious, he quickly crossed the room and pressed his ear up against the old wood. Three distinct voices could be heard. One was the gruff voice of Nefris, and the other two had an odd lisp that Deiter couldn't place.

The argument lasted for several minutes until a loud cry was heard followed by an explosion. The force of the explosion caused part of Deiter's door to burst inward and throw him back across the room. A little bit of the underside of his right ear was nicked off towards the tip from the shards of wood. He tried to push himself up and struggled to remain conscious, but the blow sending him across the room was too much for his weakened state. The last thing he saw before darkness enveloped him was two hunched over figures, their frames covered in ragged black material, dragging the dead body of Nefris out into the night.

Deiter awoke with a start as water was splashed on his face. Groaning, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked at the cause of the water. A young boy stood there shaking, but with a defiant look etched on his face.

<font color=silver>"Are... are you a bad man sir?"</font> The child's question left Deiter staring at him blankly. "Bad man?" The half-elf was trying to grasp the situation and failing miserably. <font color=silver>"This is a haunted place. Evil things are known to happen here... my... my friends and I were daring each other to enter. We heard an explosion last night from back in the village... and we went to go look the next day."</font> Beginning to understand, Deiter looked past the boy and noticed the heads of three small children peeking around the corner of the entrance. "You can come in." The children watched him warily, but slowly inched inside. <font color=silver>"You're not a bad man are you sir? The evil things would have taken you too, and yet they left you here injured."</font>

Using the wall as support, Deiter pushed himself up into a standing position. The children moved back, frightened that he may do something harmful. Noticing their reactions, Deiter forced out a smile. "It's ok, I won't hurt any of you." He made his way outside into the warm sunlight. Chani... That's your name isn't it? Memories of her started to flood his mind, as if a great fog had been lifted from his thoughts. Everything they had done together, the tavern that was their own, their friends... Deiter could only stare at the ground in a mixture of pain and regret.

His thoughts were broken by the gentle nudge of a small girl. <font color=silver>"Are you ok sir? You looked like how my mother did when my grandpa passed away."</font> Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Deiter faced the small band of children. "Is your village close to here? Some food and sleep would help a great deal." The eldest boy nodded and pointed east. <font color=silver>"It's not too far away, but sir, um... how do we explain you to the adults? We'll get in big trouble if they find out we came out here."</font> Worried expressions covered their faces as thoughts of what their parents would do crossed their minds. "I'll think of something." Noticing that their expressions still stayed, he added in "I promise." It seemed to do the trick as relief washed through them. The eldest boy gathered the others together and started down a small trail leading east.

Deiter was about to follow the children to their village when he paused. My scimitar... The old man probably kept it hidden inside. Memories of his blade danced through out his mind, coupled with the fact that Chani owned its twin. Calling out for the children to wait, he rushed back into the ruined building. Buried under the rubble of the floor laid his weapon. Deiter gently picked it up and brushed off the dust and wood splinters with his sleeve. His reflection in the polished metal showed a young man with messy brown hair and tired green eyes. Placing the blade through his belt, he left the ruins of his nightmares behind him, and caught up with children ahead.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>
For about half a decade now the One-Eyed Wolf tavern had stood in Athkatla. At the time of its opening it had been filled with the warmth of a steadily glowing hearth and the comfort of friends. As the sun rose in the sky that morning, the fire had been reduced to struggling embers, and the only waking soul was the tavern's proprieter, Chani Ravenwood.

Chani's frail frame heaved with the exhausted sigh she emitted as she leaned against a crusty windowpane at the front of her tavern. It was difficult to run the place on her own, especially considering its reasonable level of success. The toll it had taken on her was readily apparent in her sunken expression and unenthused glances. She didn't really want the tavern; but it kept her busy, and that was what mattered. There always had to be a distraction, to keep her from looking back.

It was hard at times like these to think of anything in any dimension of time, really. As the pinks and oranges of dawn fell across her face, as her dull flaxen hair fell limply into her eyes, as the ache in her spine spread to her ribcage and beyond, she could find nothing more enjoyable in life than the coolness of the windowpane against her cheek. Day, after night, after night, after day.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 01:01 AM: Message edited by: Killing Spree ]

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter followed the children closely through out the forest. They were his only connection to reality after living under the control of Nefris. His thoughts wandered continuously on Chani. What was she doing now? His disappearance had to have affected her deeply, and his fists clenched in response. The laughter of the children ahead of him drew him out of his thoughts as a small village appeared in the distance.

<font color=silver> "There it is! That's our village!"</font> The eldest boy puffed his chest out proudly as if expecting Deiter to be amazed at the small sight before him. "What is the name of it?" He directed at the small girl walking beside him. <font color=silver> "Geoma, don't you know? It's the only village around this area." </font> She giggled then, as if Deiter had asked a dumb question for an obvious answer.

Small wooden cabins greeted them as they made their way past the village gates. A middle aged man stared at Deiter, taking in his appearance. <font color=silver> "You're not from around here are you?" </font> Deiter looked over at the older man and nodded. "I was traveling around these parts and happened to notice chimney smoke. These children here were kind enough to welcome me to your village." The eldest boy nodded his agreement. <font color=silver> "He's right, Warner. He was in the need of food and shelter so we brought him here."</font> Warner eyed Deiter suspiciously, but finally nodded his defeat.<font color=silver> "All right then... take him over to the tavern to get some food." </font> Deiter and the children expressed their thanks as he was lead through the village.

The children stopped outside the door to a cabin larger than the rest in the village. <font color=silver> "This is Gareth's tavern, but we're not allowed inside... it's not very fair."</font> Several small heads nodded in agreement. "Tell Gareth that Warner sent you here and he should give you food and a room for free." The children bid Deiter farewell as he made his way inside the smoky building. A large man with a crooked mustache stood behind the bar counter. Deiter briefly reflected back to when he was the bartender for his own tavern with Chani as he made his way over to him. "Are you Gareth?" <font color=silver> "Aye, I am." </font> Relief made its way across Deiter's face as he explained that Warner had sent him and what he was in need of. <font color=silver> "You’re welcomed to stay as long as you like if you were sent by Warner. Grab yourself a plate and here's the key to your room."</font> Deiter nodded his thanks, almost drooling at the thought of food.</font>

<font color=lightgreen>Five days had past as Deiter slowly began to recover. The children had followed him around everywhere, except for when he went into the tavern to discuss any of the latest news with the patrons. He felt well enough now to travel on his own, and knew it was time to make his way back to where he belonged. </font>

[ 06-28-2006, 02:28 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=CCCC33>Chani grimaced as she heard footsteps creaking down the wooden stairs. They were heavy, drowsy, and careless sounding, but the voice that accompanied them cracked sharply and alertly. It demanded food and apologies for the shortcomings of the accomodations. She could just barely stifle a groan as she pushed herself from the window and turned to face a tall, aggitated looking man. She just returned his peeved expression with a look of absolute blank indifference before shuffling off to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Time slipped from recognition as she mechanically performed the task at hand, and consciousness was regained as she sprinkled cinnamon over the pastries and heaved the tray to a large round table between the stairs and the bar.

By then a handful of patrons had awoken and were waiting with mixed levels of anticipation for her arrival. Some were eager to return their keys and be on their way, some had questions about the city, and others were just hungry. By the time they'd all stopped assaulting her the sun was well into the sky. She stumbled over to an oversized and well worn chair, patting the old gray wolf that was laying beside it on the head as she slumped down. Her gray-blue eyes shifted to the world beyond the tavern, focusing on something unimportant: the wood of a doorframe or a single cobble in the street. It was times like these, all alone, when she could no longer run from the things she'd buried deep within herself. A lonesome ache surrounded her heart as she was unable to hold back flashes of memories. Cold water, a walk by the lake at night, green leaves and paint, a ladder to the roof, knowing glances, things never said by the lips barely kissed. She closed her eyes. Gods damn you, Deiter Leafblade.</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Gareth greeted him as he made his way down the stairs to main hall of the tavern. <font color=silver> "Good morning! Here, grab yourself a plate."</font> Deiter thanked the bartender as he took his plate over to a table by the window. He inhaled his food quickly and leaned back in his chair to watch the early morning activity of the tavern. His heart ached again at the memories of the One-Eyed Wolf and the young woman he had spent his time with there. I wonder if the tavern is even still operating... and if she'll be there. Deiter's expression turned gloomy as he pondered on the possibility that Chani could be anywhere.

Warner made his way into the tavern and spotted Deiter. Taking a seat next to the young man he gave out a troubled sigh. <font color=silver> "Those children are quite attached to you."</font> Deiter smiled faintly as he buried his thoughts away and studied the shifting of the grains in the table before him. <font color=silver> "Gareth tells me you plan to leave for Athkatla today. Is that true? You looked like you had been through hell and back when you passed through the village gates." </font> Determination filled Deiter as his thoughts of Chani resurfaced. "I plan to leave after I finish up here actually. From looking at the map Gareth had, it should take me several weeks on foot to reach Athkatla."

Warner's face remained expressionless as he watched the young half-elf. <font color=silver> "I know it's none of my business, but why Athkatla?" </font> Deiter genuinely smiled this time and looked Warner in the eye. "The woman I love is there." Warner's placidity cracked as he raised an eyebrow. <font color=silver> "And you know this for sure? I don't want to see a young man like you going on a fools errand from city to city."</font> He couldn't say for sure that Chani was there, but their tavern was, and with that fact in mind, he was fairly certain she would be there as well. "I'm certain enough to go." With that said, Deiter bid Warner farewell and gathered supplies together for his trip.

An hour later he stood at the village gates with a map in one hand and the reigns to a horse he had managed to get in the other. The children were clustered around him, sad to see him leave. "I'll come back and visit." Deiter offered as he picked up one of the kids that had jumped on top of his horse. They waved goodbye to him as he made his way down the trail and out of sight of the village. It was a lonely journey, but he had his thoughts for company and his determination to see Chani to help him along the way whenever he faltered.

Weeks had passed and according to his map he should be able to see the city in a few more days. Nervousness started to set upon as he wondered what she was like now. Would she even be here? Would she have ended up someone else? Deiter couldn't answer the questions before him and decided it better to not dwell on such things.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 03:28 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=CCCC33>
There was a storm that night. The wind blew in fitful gusts, first strong, then weak, then stronger than before. Thin branches were torn from the arms of their old, jaded mothers by the droves, while the saplings twisted their spines in bizarre arcs in attempts to keep their families together. One tree near the center of the square was struck by lightening and split straight down the middle of the trunk, but as it was the oldest and most brittle of the trees it could muster no dramatics in response, and merely offered a creaking groan and an ashy smell. The sound of the downpour, as it bounced off roofs and cobbles, was ridiculously similar to an army marching in formation, and the sound of the thunder was comparable to cannon fire.

Chani laid on her bed, the covers kicked aside, one arm dangling over the edge of the matress and the other folded beneath her cheek. Rain poured on the roof cacophonously. She hadn't had a good night's rest since he'd left... Left? Died. She'd decided a while back he had died. Hadn't she? Wasn't that easier? She didn't know. She usually didn't even let herself think about him. There wasn't a point, seeing as he was gone. Gone. Everybody was gone. Not just him. Her friends, her brother... What else was gone? Dreams. Hope. Maybe. She made a silent pact to herself to leave soon, and then fell into a cloudy sleep.</font>

<font color=lightgreen> The days quickly passed as he drew nearer to his destination. The only trouble he had encountered was the remains of a storm the day before. Certainty soon filled his chest as Athkatla came into view. The city looked familiar and yet alien at the same time. He had convinced himself that Chani would be there, and was eager to prove himself correct. Deiter led his horse off to the stables before looking around. It was apparent the storm had hit the city hard as he tried to find his way to the tavern. It had been many years since he last set foot here, and ended up having to ask for directions. His heart clutched in his chest when he spotted the familiar sign Chani had painted for the tavern, swaying in the warm breeze.

Deiter paused, entranced by it. He was about to find out whether his hopes would be crushed or not. The uncertainty that threatened to claim him propelled him forward as he stepped through the tavern doorway. Various things had changed slightly, but it looked almost the same as it did in Deiter's memories. No one appeared to be awake yet in the tavern, and he realized it was still early in the morning. What do I say to her? Sorry some old guy kidnapped me for four years? He shook his head, unsure of himself now as he made his way over to the bar counter. Fond memories sprang up in his mind as he rubbed his hand against the wood. Deciding to wait the morning out, he sat down on the stool in front of the counter and contemplated over his inner turmoil.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>The light filtered through the thin, tattered curtains adorning Chani's bedroom window as the clouds lifted and a new dawn prepared to rise. Songbirds chirped conversationally, flitting from branch to branch and knocking rainwater from the tips of the leaves. Their whistles roused Chani from her shallow slumber, and with a mighty yawn she stretched and heaved herself out of bed.

As she dressed herself in a soft, loose blouse and a simple skirt, she contemplated packing the rest of her clothes into the saddlebags in the corner. As she combed her hair and shook it out of her eyes, she wondered if anybody would really miss her if she simply took off. The stableboy and the maid could probably manage the place well enough without her, now that she thought about it. The Amnish government would quickly sieze the property after the taxes stopped rolling in and that would be the last of any of her obligations. It was settled. She'd just walk out. Nobody would be up at this hour, she'd just sneak out. Nevermind her things. She didn't need them. She'd go home, to Ravenwood.

Quietly, she tiptoed down the stairs. All of the sudden, all of her aspirations were crushed by the sight of a lone figure sitting at the bar, perfectly conscious. Chani sighed. There would be no escape today. But who the Hell was this, sitting at her bar, not passed out in a drunken stupor, before the sun was even up? She finished descending the steps and circled around behind the man, cleared her throat and asked curiously, "Excuse me, can I help you?"</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter was jerked out of his thoughts at the sound of a woman's voice behind him. A voice he knew very well. Taking a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, he removed himself from the stool and turned to face her. Her shock was apparent as his green eyes took her in. Running the tavern on her own seemed to have taken a toll on her, and he silently cursed himself for not being there.

But there she was, after all this time, standing right there in front of him. What do you say Deiter? Look at how shocked she is! Not trusting himself to speak, he moved in closer to her until they were almost touching. He decided to express how he was feeling with actions instead of words, and leaned in, hugging her tightly to him.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 05:34 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=CCCC33>Chani couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing. She supposed she was dreaming, but then she hadn't slept well enough to dream in years. Then, suddenly, she was wrapped in a warm embrace. It wasn't an illusion. Here was Deiter Leafblade, back from the dead.

The arms held her tightly, wrapped securely around her frail body as if to lock her in place for safe keeping. There was something different about those arms. He was thinner, weaker, more careworn. She realized in an instant she'd never given herself a chance to wonder what might have happened to him. Who knew how much he'd really changed. But in spite of these concerns, a familiarity washed over her, along with a longing to just be held tighter and tighter. Her head pressed tightly to his chest, she wrapped her arms around him and clung to his shoulders. She knew the instant he'd embraced her that there was nothing to explain.</font>

<font color=lightblue>How are you today, Isabeau? She strolled along the pathway leading to her dearest friend. You know how it's like for me these days, don't you? Her steps were deliberate and slow. You didn't think that I'd forget you, did you?

Above, the skies were clear and the sun shining down quite naughtily, and to those who had known her before, they would detect that her skin tone had gone several shades darker.

I think I'm happy here, Isabeau. Nodding half to herself, she looked at her surroundings unseeingly. Yes, I think I'll stay here, Isabeau. With you. There was no wind, but her heart was at peace, safe from the horrors of a scandalous, heart-wrenching past. No regrets, my dear. No regrets...

Yes, that was how she would live. Here with her beloved, without the blade that had caused so much sorrow. And painful flashes of the past, which continued to haunt her. Bending down, she plucked out a weed before the tombstone.

"May I be as restful as you are, dear friend."

Yet some things, though she now chose to leave them behind, could never be erased from her mind.

One such memory was upon her now. Four years ago it had been, when the moment of crisis had occurred. Sighing, she closed her eyes, recalling the turning point of her life...</font>

<font color=FFCC66>Beads of sweat rolled down Arrakis's smooth half-elven face, matting his hair and leaving a salty taste on his lips. His chest heaved as he collapsed to the ground, the muggy summer air filling his insatiable lungs. The forest was hot and sticky with humidity. It had been a long run. Casting his invisibility cloak to the side, he craned his neck to look downward at a head of raven hair. Between breaths he quietly muttered "I'm sorry I fell, I hope you're all right. I had to stop. Had to..." He coughed harshly, moving to the side to allow her to get up.</font>

<font color=lightblue>As she pulled herself up, a bolt of searing terror shot down her spine at her recognition of THAT voice.

No, it could not be...

"A... Arrakis?" Hollow was her tone as she slowly tilted her head in the direction of his voice. Her eyes widened as the sight of him confirmed her suspicions.

"What.. are you doing here?" There was something terrifying in this moment, in his proximity, which shook her from head to toe.</font>

<font color=FFCC66>He lay immobilized, somewhat puzzled by her reaction. "Mistral, what's the matter?"

He clammered shakily to his feet, taking a bold step toward her. The scythe at his collarbone glowed a bright red, but he nonetheless reached out for her hand. His fingers were thin and rough. "Mistral, it's all right. I know you don't understand quite what's happened tonight. I don't either. But it's safe now, it's all right. I know that much." His dark blue eyes stared steadily at her face, seeking a reaction.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 08:48 AM: Message edited by: Killing Spree ]

<font color=lightblue>As her vision improved and reality settled in, she glanced about nervously, then focused whatever energies she had left, upon his intense eyes.

"I... I'm so confused, Arrakis." Her hands were clammy as they strayed to the Shattered Reality subconsciously. "Do you hate me? Do you hate all my kinsmen?" Should I hate you for killing my father? A father who had slain your own kinsmen? The very thought of these complications pounded her head.

"What would you have me do, at a moment like this?"</font>

<font color=FFCC66>Arrakis averted his eyes from hers, feeling a strange, unbearable scrutiny under their gaze. "I do not know what to tell you, Mistral." He took in her features slowly, still avoiding her eyes, trying to avoid certain memories tied to the feud between their families.

"What I do know is that whatever ill that was done unto my family by Freelight, was not your doing. However, I also know..." He shuddered, and finally looked at her eyes. A coldness washed over him, despite the heat surrounding them. "That you have every reason to hate me."

Penitently, he sunk to his knees before her, still grasping her hand in his grimy fingers. "I beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my family. Please, just leave my sister be. Kill me if you wish. It is what I deserve."</font>

<font color=lightblue>Gazing down upon his locks of sandy hair, she could feel her temples throbbing even as waves of burning blood crashed against the membranes of her veins.

"I have never thought of harming Chani." Was it true? Could she utter these words with a clear conscience? Perhaps not, which was the words came out haltingly. Or was it the struggle to retain sanity that zapped her remaining strength?

One thing she could be certain of, however. She could not hurt him. Not when he knelt before her so sincerely and spoke in such a heartfelt way.

She would sooner kill herself than touch him, with the intention to injure.

"I think... we met at the wrong time." How different things would have been, if I had met you in earlier years. Perhaps we might have been good friends, as our fathers were... but is that wishful thinking on my part? Unwittingly, her free hand placed the sword upon the ground and traced the trickle of perspiration down his temple. I might have ended up as your companion, instead of Larry's. At this, her heart constricted involuntarily. Our union might have ended this family feud in the most optimal way possible.

But what was the use of speculation, when the story had been woven? The image of a broken-hearted ranger tore her own insides unbearably. I need to get away... I need peace.

Impulsively, she grabbed the Shattered Reality and placed it into Arrakis' soiled hands.

"This should have been returned to your race more than two decades ago." Her eyes were getting moist; whether from exertion or sorrow, she could not discern.

"Here, take it."</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter continued to hold Chani tightly him. He was almost in disbelief that she was here in front of him. It felt good to have her here with him, pressed tightly against him, locked in their embrace. I was right... she must have been here all along, but why? Deiter shut his thoughts off then and loosened their embrace to look down at her. His hand reached up and slowly traced a trail along her jaw line as he watched her. He loved her eyes, how full of life they had been, and how that energy was making its way back into those gray-blue orbs.

Deiter lowered his head closer to her then, hesitant at first. He wanted to say something first, he wanted her to know how much she meant to him, how much finally being back with her meant to him. "I love you." He said softly, and then he kissed her like he wished he had all those years ago.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 12:40 PM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=FFCC66>Arrakis rose slowly to his feet as he held the blade flat in his palms. He stared at it a moment in shock. He had only expected this weapon to be the instrument of his execution. He did not suppose he should accept it. He feared what she would ask him to do with it. And yet, it didn't matter as he gazed at her countenance and read the sorrow in her expression. He felt akin to her in that moment, though he knew himself to be far less innocent than she.

Quietly, he slid the blade between his belt and his side in a gesture of silent acceptance. He would not deny her gift. He knew the lore of these swords as well as any, and knew a connection to its history often ment more anguish than anything else. He would bear that burden for now. He would do anything for her in this moment.

Breathlessly he tried to express his feelings, the scythe glaring red on his collar. He struggled with his words, pausing frequently and wishing he could flow into the richer tongue of the elves. "Mistral... I do not know... Well, rather, I do not understand... Why you have given me these gifts. Both of my life and of this blade of destiny. But... As awed as I am, I know what must be done." He stepped closer to her, inhaling deeply as an unfamiliar ache swept across him. With the utmost sincerity and tenderness, he held her face delicately in his hands and brushed her tears aside. "Please. Whatever it is you need from me, I will set my life to it. Let me help you find... Peace. It is something I will never achieve for myself." A mixture of sorrow, empathy, and longing in his eyes, he softly placed a kiss on her forehead before staring directly into her eyes, ready to accept whatever she set before him.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>Chani melted into his embrace as their lips met. Old feelings, long since buried, resurfaced in an instant, and the kiss became a manifestation of all the hope she'd lost. With an almost violent intensity she clung to him, desperate to make sure it wasn't all just a dream. And yet, when they finally parted, she could not help but feel all the flames die down within her and a wash of shame overcome her. She looked up at him, with confusion and pain in her eyes. Noticably, she did not return his words. She only whispered one. "Why?"</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter noticed the lack of response to what he had said to her, hitting him hard enough as if he had been physically struck. His own pain covered his face as he thought of what to say. "Why? Why any of this happened is a long story..." He let go of her then and motioned for her to sit next to him at the counter as he reclaimed his seat. Sitting close to her, he grasped her hand and gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb. A long silence developed until he felt confident enough to tell her.

"Jas had came to me in the middle of the night. The old elf had discovered some ruins in the forest out to the east and wanted to show them to me. We would continue to make trips out there exploring it, which explained why you saw me leave with him more often than usual. I couldn't tell you what we were up to though... I wanted to surprise you with what we found." Deiter fell silent then, focusing on Chani's hand clasped inside his own. Several minutes went by until he continued on.

"It was late one night, and Jas and I had found part of a door sunken into the ground. We managed to get it open and curiosity drove us on to explore inside. The runes etched in the walls soon made it apparent that the people who had built this were worshipers of Hextor." Deiter's expression remained oddly placid as he recited the event. "Not wanting to stay in a tainted place such as that, we quickly made our way out only to be ambushed. The men... I don't even know if I could call them men... They were strange hunched over creatures in ragged black clothing... We fought against them but were soon overcome. I don't know what happened to Jas... I was knocked out soon after and awoke to find myself barely alive in an unfamiliar forest. That's when Nefris found me..."

Deiter's complexion paled as he retold what had happened to him while captured by the mage. His green eyes were no longer looking at their hands, but at horrors staining his memories. His voice was low and his hand tightened around hers, though not enough to cause discomfort. Relief seemed to break his countenance as he moved on to the children finding him and the village he stayed at. He turned to her then, and grasped her other hand. "That's why."</font>

<font color=CCCC33>Chani listened to Deiter's story silently, not even daring to look at him for fear of the pain it would cause. Though she heard his words, comprehended and catologued their meaning, she could not help but be lost in her own thoughts. Could she really claim to love this man sitting beside her? After all these years? She knew he would soon be dissapointed to find she was not quite the same person he left behind. Her thin shoulders heaved and her brow furrowed as she stared forward at nothing in particular.

Shame clouded her heart. He had suffered so much, been through Hell, and still he had remembered her. He'd come back to her. He'd still kept his love for her safe. And all these years, she had barely even let herself remember his face, much less any feelings for him. She looked down at her boney fingers entwined in his and felt tears spring to her eyes. Had she really failed him?

Her free hand tugged at her hair nervously. She squeezed his hand weakly, but she couldn't look at him anymore.</font>

<font color=lightblue>You do not know how much you tempt me with your words. She blinked away her tears as she tried to return his gaze levelly, but her breath was turning as erratic as her heartbeat at his touch.

Why was she so happy? That here was a man who would go through fire and water for her peace of mind? Why then were her cheeks scalding so badly? As she continued to tremble in his presence, the answer slapped her across the cheeks in abandon.

You already have a man who would do that, Mistral. Your wedded husband. The word 'husband' reverberated within her so violently that she thought she would collapse with guilt. You don't need this one, the one you've left Ravenwood with. The enormity of the situation sunk its fangs into her soul. You're nothing but a woman with loose morals, and the worst kind of traitor to that faithful husband of yours...

With a gasp, she disentangled herself from his arms and a sob escaped her lips.

"There isn't... anything you can do... for me." Then, as she perceived his hurt expression, she blurted. "Not right now, anyway... and it's not you, it's me... I'm the problem."

Staggering backward, she turned and ran as swiftly as her legs could carry her.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 05:41 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter watched her look away from him, pain clearly showing on his face. "Chani..." He let go of her hands to brush away the tears from her eyes. "I know these past years had to be hard on you as well." He pushed back his stool and hugged her again, wanting to reassure her. "I would very much like to catch up with you." Before he could finish saying anymore, early risers of the tavern started to awake, making their way downstairs.

"Maybe we should get away from here." He commented softly enough for only her to hear as he watched two patrons make their way downstairs.</font>

<font color=lightsteelblue>As the skies above faded from their dusky blue to the achingly beautiful palette that only a hopeful dawn could bring, she strolled past the half-asleep guards and took a moment to survey the scene before her.

Athklata, land of the riches. And it had long been rumoured, uncountable evils. Looking around, she could see clearly enough the snares that might have entrapped a newbie to the scene... and her hand strayed to the silver chain which hung comfortingly against her skin. Peering down, she examined the little golden tree wrapped with intricate coils of silver and ebony. The silly boy. She smiled to herself almost wistfully as she fingered the coils and then tucked her jewellery safely under her tunic.

Already, she was carrying three momentos with her. Not bad for an orphan three times over. The smile turned wry and sighing, she tilted her head, absorbing as much of the blessings the gods could afford her on this day.

The One-Eyed Wolf, the letter had mentioned. Well, with a weird name like that, it would not be too difficult to hunt it down. Drawing a deep breath, she continued to saunter forward, peering at the various signboards and checking each word carefully so that she did not miss the tavern unwittingly.

At length, just when she was ready to take a breather from her search, and escape from the increasing heat, she found herself leaning against crusty windowpane and staring almost defiantly at the passers-by, who seemed to be whispering among themselves. Somewhat disturbed, she glanced around and caught sight of a slightly swaying sign which seemed to be mocking either her total want of awareness, or utter stupidity.

She was here, at last.</font>

[ 06-29-2006, 07:46 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=FFCC66>Arrakis merely watched as Mistral ran off into the night. He didn't know why she had run, or where she would go, or if she would be safe in even the first leg of her journey. But he did know one thing. He could not follow her. Without words or even intentions, she had given him the key to her peace, and that was not in her footsteps. His hand drifted to the sword hilt at his side. He would find the new inheritent of the sword, and set Mistral free.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>Chani shuddered inwardly as she was accosted on all sides by people that needed her attention. Deiter's pleading glances, the curious looks of her customers, some girl at the door staring at the sign like an idiot. Hadn't she been ready to leave everything behind just shortly before? Hadn't she wanted to start life anew? Forget any of this had ever happened. Yes. Yes, that was what she had planned on. Without addressing her customers or her former lover, Chani launched herself from her seat and stormed to the door, heading down the street at a quick paced walk, her entire body tense and her eyes feeling as though they could just pop out of her skull in exasperation.</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter was startled as Chani suddenly stormed out of the tavern. This is probably all too much for her... He wasn't about to let her go though as he ran out of the tavern after her. "Chani!" She appeared to be ignoring him as he continued after her. He managed to out run her and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to stop. "I know this is a lot, and I can tell the tavern life has become too much for you... but you need to calm down."

Gently lifting her chin up, he looked at her, going past her barriers and realizing she was as broken as he was in what they had gone through the past four years. "We should leave this city together. I want to help you Chani… and be with you..." He said the last part barely above a whisper. There they were, facing each other in the street as people gave them curious glances and scowls of disapproval as they went about their daily business. Deiter didn't notice any of it. All he saw was the woman in front of him. </font>

<font color=lightsteelblue>It was true, what they said about instinct. As the shovelling and miffed cries emerged from the swinging doors of the tavern, she spun around in time just to catch sight of a figure sprint-walking as it were, down the streets in another direction. There was something about that gait which spoke volumes...

She's the one I have to talk to.

Jolting herself into action, she too began tearing down the path, sidling past bulky street citizens and gruff merchants where she needed to. In the distance, she could see that her target was being chased by another male figure... both elusive heads continued to bop and down, half-disappearing from her line of vision.

Damn it, why's she in such a rush anyway? And the answer came to her, almost instantaneously. She's trying to avoid him, of course... lover's tiff.

Half smirking, she pushed ahead but the human - no, multi-racial - tide proved its superiority in the end. Cursing softly, she halted in her pursuit when she saw that it was all in vain.

The two figures were nowhere to be seen.</font>

[ 06-28-2006, 07:42 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=CCCC33>It seemed like at least a hundred voices were screaming in Chani's mind at once, the cadence of her pulse in her ears unifying them in a horrific orchestra. Every idea had merit, every option deserved consideration, every thought deserved to be reviewed, but altogether it was too complicated to even acknowledge.

Those eyes and those arms, they weren't even a comfort right now. They were a summation of the past four years in one brilliant flash. She barely contained a scoff as he said the tavern life. He had no idea the things she'd done, the trouble she'd gotten into without him, or Mistral, or Arrakis. She hadn't been strong or clever enough to protect herself. Here he was, in front of her, integrity perfectly in tact, and she had nothing to say to him but things she'd rather not mention. She hated her reflection in those eyes.

She was leaving this place, one way or the other, and if he was going to follow her, she probably couldn't stop him. She could try to dissuade him though, before he got too wrapped up and hurt. "Deiter, I don't think you realize what you're asking for. It's just... It's just..." She avoided eye contact with him, and sighed heavily. "You're four years late to be with your Chani."</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter was completely crushed. She doesn't want to be with me... The realization of it left him feeling so alone that he could only stare blankly at her. He didn't trust himself to speak, but he attempted anyway. "Do you know... all these four years... you never left my mind? I tried Chani. I tried to come back to you but I was always dragged back." The various scars across his body were proof enough at how many times he tried. "My memories were taken from me after my time there with him grew on. Your face would always appear in my mind, but I couldn't name who you were. Whenever I thought of my memories convulsions would take over to prevent me from it. I would try as long as I could against it just to see your face..." Deiter was shaking now. "You mean everything to me Chani... I don't know what else to say."</font>

<font color=CCCC33>Chani grimaced sorrowfully as Deiter broke down before her eyes. "I wish I could be that person you remember, Deiter. I really do." She yearned to console him, but at the same time shied away from even being there. The mixed emotions were almost too much to bear. She looked down at the ground, her hair falling into her eyes. "You deserve to have the person you loved all those years ago, Deiter. I'm not her anymore." She looked back up, a heartbroken look on her face. Tears began to flow down her cheeks, and she quickly swept them aside with the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry."</font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter shook his head at what she had said. "I understand you've changed. I can only imagine what you've gone through these years. I've changed as well, but it doesn't make a difference to me Chani." He wanted her to understand so badly.

"Do I mean so little to you now that you won't even give me the chance to spend time with you?" He commented quietly as he turned his gaze away. "I know you want to get away from here. Will you let me accompany you to your destination at least? If... if you still feel the same about my company then I will respect that and leave." Deiter was unable to look at her, so lost was he in the possibility that she really would send him away.</font>

<font color=lightsteelblue>Sighing, she dragged her feet to the nearest tavern and seated herself in an inconspicuous spot. The beer arrived surprisingly fast, and she nodded her approval at the bartender who retreated discreetly.

Let’s try to recap what we already know so far. Searching her pockets, she extracted a faded parchment, scanning the words she must have read at least a dozen times already:

<font color=white>Dear Mother,

If my memory serves me well, it has been some 26 years since our estrangement. This one-sided conversation wears upon me and I wonder if it has the same effect on you. Surely you would agree that it is time for us to move on and not let the mistakes of the errant-minded guide the rest of our lives.

I write with an exceptionally heavy heart tonight. Because, Mother, I think my days are numbered. You may scoff at my suspicions, but I would willingly swear that I have been stalked since a week ago. By whom, I naturally have some ideas… yet without proof, I hesitate to point fingers at this moment. The most critical task I must perform while I am alive is to find Mistral… that lost child of mine.

I can already hear your triumphant laugh, Mother, for was it not you who urged me to keep her to my side, when Eilonwy passed away giving birth to her? Would that I had listened to your words, for now I find that I have much to tell her and no certainty of doing so. And of course, that heirloom – much as I abhore the sight of it – is rightfully hers, and she shall decide how it should be dealt with.

What an uncharacteristically long letter from me, Mother. It might well be my last, for I set off for Athklata at dawn tomorrow. I have news that Mistral was last sighted there, and I intend to reclaim my poor daughter, make up for the trials she has had to undergo in my absence.

If anything untoward happens to me, Mistral as the heir of the Freelight family will naturally inherit my possessions. But be rest assured that I have arranged for an annuity to be paid to your goodself, that you and my niece may live comfortably for the rest of your lives.

Yours respectfully and with best wishes for your health,
Your son
Aragorn F.</font>

What a generous uncle you have. Pursing her lips wryly, she folded the letter and placed it securely back into the pocket. Then, as an afterthought, she took out another parchment, less faded but more precious to her and read the shakily written words:

<font color=gold>Be useful… One-Eyed Wolf Tavern, if you can...</font>

Already, she had ascertained from her casual conversations with some of the patrons that a war had broken out in Athklata four years ago because of a wingless elf named Aerie. The Kentucky Fried Avariel restaurant (or K.F.A., in short), which had set out serving her bodily parts, had been attacked by loving followers of the avariel from the Holy Temple of Aerie. The restaurant was subsequently razed to the ground by an extremely powerful but insane character, before being rebuilt into the current One-Eyed Wolf tavern. The owner, an eccentric half-elf named Chani Ravenwood, was dangerously unpredictable with mood swings and one generally kept out of her way if one wanted to preserve one’s safety.

Well, the figure she had observed charging out of the tavern earlier certainly fit the description. Yet…

Why would Grandma have scribbled those last words? It troubled her even now, that a matriarch would have struggled to get these words out in her last dying moments.

Carefully, she kept her prized possession and took another sip of beer. </font>

<font color=cornflowerblue>That had been four years ago. An agonising moment, an unbearable split. But on hindsight now, one of the most courageous and commendable acts she had taken in those years.

What about regret? Sure, she had experienced a few - no, more than a few - bouts of that. But at the end of the day... regret is not something one cannot live with. The years had taught her that as she remained in seclusion, Isabeau keeping her company until the last few months. And regret is a far better condition than humiliation. All these flowed through her mind, as she continued on her regular strolls along the graveyard.

Perhaps one day, she might find a reason to leave this paradise. But not now certainly, and not in the near future...</font>

OOC: Mistral is henceforth out of the picture in this story, until such time when I find inspiration/justifications for bringing her back.

<font color=FFCC66>It had been four years since the night Arrakis had received the blade that dangled from his hip. Four years he had had only one element of purpose in his life. He knew somewhere in the world Mistral finally had peace, and somewhere else in the world a new soul would someday be brought into chaos. He was nothing but a state of limbo, a conduit between the destiny of two souls.

For four years he had sought the next in line to inherit the sword, with the blade itself being his only compass. In his quest he lost all semblance of a life. He did not need respite or companionship. His only desire, his only driving force, was to find the blade's place. And now it had lead him to what seemed the most unlikely of places. The city of Athkatla, the capital of Amn.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>With every word Deiter said the more Chani felt she had betrayed him. The thought of redemption seemed so far away. Of course he saw nothing to forgive. He didn't know. He didn't know anything. He just wanted to come home to his lady love. He didn't know she hadn't been staring into every sunset waiting for his return. Could she pretend that she had, for his sake?

Maybe his suggestion was worth a shot. She needed to get away from here. Where was she even going, though? Ravenwood? Why? A place with so much history certainly wouldn't help her start afresh. She needed someplace new. Far away from anywhere she'd ever called home.

Looking Deiter straight in the eyes she said plainly, "Get me out of here."</font>

[ 06-30-2006, 02:21 AM: Message edited by: Killing Spree ]

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter managed a weak smile as relief filled him. She would allow him to be with her. ...for now. He quickly dismissed any negative thoughts and looked down the street. "We should get your things and supplies together before we leave." He was about to turn for the tavern when his scimitar brushed against his leg. Glancing at it, he pulled the blade out and showed it to her. "Do you still have yours as well?"

Relics of the past seemed to be the last thing he needed to ask her at the moment, but he was curious. Their blades were a pair, another piece that connected them. What if she lost it? or had it stolen? or didn't have it anymore for some various reason? Would it matter? He watched her reflection in the blade and realized it didn't. Their swords was not the binding glue that held him to her, it was his love for her. Deiter could only hope that she would return it again someday.</font>

[ 06-30-2006, 03:45 AM: Message edited by: Deiter Leafblade ]

<font color=lightsteelblue><font color=gold>Be useful… One-Eyed Wolf tavern, if you can.</font>

However she turned the words in her head, she could feel no assurance that her interpretations had been the right ones. Did Grandma generally want me to be a useful person? That much, she had tried to achieve thus far, since leaving their home. The latest adventure involving Rehan and Jared was just one of the many assignments she had taken, hoping fervently that her grandmother could witness her attempts with a little degree of comfort, from the heavens above. But what was this about the One-Eyed Wolf tavern?

While her gaze idly strayed to the other patrons, she ransacked her brain for some plausible reasons behind this odd instruction. Was Grandma a major stakeholder in the tavern, and worried that it would collapse from financial ruin? Before that sentence could reach a conclusion in her head, a caustic laugh had bubbled from her guts and threatened to erupt from her twitching lips. Neither the looks nor mannerisms of that half-elf would have suited Grandma’s taste. No, it had to be some other reason. Her forehead wrinkled as she called back the last image of her lifeless grandparent, each hand clutching the different parchments she had perused just moments ago. Perhaps the letters were related…

Could it be that Grandma had received fresh news of Uncle, or Mistral? She swallowed another gulp of beer as she pondered over this prospect. Perhaps they had recently been sighted at the tavern, and Grandma believed them to be in trouble... If so, then it was all too late. It had been so many months - a year even, perhaps - since Grandma's death and she had procastinated this course of action for one reason or another. Grandma probably wanted me to check the place out, and find out if they were still safe and unharmed... The more she reflected on this, the greater the likelihood that she had gotten as close to the truth as she could hope for, under the circumstances.

Exasperatedly, she swigged another mouthful of ale before shoving the mug aside and making her way to the counter. “Great stuff, this.” Burping slightly, she drawled. "Knocks some sense into you, it does."

Dragging her feet out into the streets, she found herself listlessly retracing her steps towards that blasted tavern whose proprietor had abandoned ship.

No promises, Grandma. No promises. You saw that she left, didn’t you? I wouldn't expect much from enquiries there, really… you'll just have to forgive me if I let you down... Half-grumbling, half-grinning, she headed back towards the One-Eyed Wolf.</font>

[ 06-30-2006, 08:18 AM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]

<font color=CCCC33>Chani couldn't hold back a wince as Deiter pulled the gleaming scimitar forward. This was one of many subjects she had hoped to avoid. Her eyes cast shamefully at the ground, she muttered, "No. No, I do not have my sword anymore." She offered no further explanation, just an uncomfortable glance in the direction of the tavern as she began to walk back to it.</font>

<font color=lightgreen> She doesn't have it anymore? Curiosity spread through the half-elf as he caught up with her. "Why is that?" Deiter tried to think of all the possible reasons why she no longer had the blade, but all the outcomes seemed unlikely. He knew in the end it didn't matter, but it was odd to him that her half of their pair was gone.</font>

<font color=CCCC33>Chani stared directly forward, intent on remaining cryptic on this subject. "I... Didn't want it anymore."

Meanwhile her mind drifted to the truth of the matter. Memory was something she had not often indulged in since she'd been rid of her sword. Truthfully she could not remember the circumstances that had lead her to her course of action, as she could remember very little of the past four years but abstract concepts of toil and apathy. Though certain she knew where the sword was, she was not sure she would ever make the journey to reclaim it. </font>

<font color=lightgreen> Deiter's eyes studied the ground beneath them as they continued their way to the tavern. Of all the possible reasons for her sword to be gone, he certainly wasn't expecting that. "I see." Was all he could manage as they soon approached the tavern. Deiter left her to gather any personal belongings as they went inside. Here he was, once again in the only place he had been able to call home since he was a child, only to leave it again in a matter of minutes. The feeling was bitter sweet as he made his way through out the tavern, collecting things they would need on their journey to no apparent destination. Satisfied with what he gathered, he sat down in a chair by the window and looked up at the ceiling while he waited for her. His eyes soon found the boarded up hole he had made with his foot while trying to repair the roof. He shook his head ruefully.</font>