The Master of the Shadow Tower, the Fallen, the Forsaken

[Invoker]

Of the Art and Balance

The two figures entered the cave, leaving the cold of the mountain tops for the almost unnatural, damp warmth of the underground complex.
The two moved with the typical grace of their people, but were otherwise very different: the brown-skinned, dark green-clad one knelt to inspect tracks with a keen eye and sniffed the air confidently, clearly in his element; the other, black robed, his complexion golden and his hair long and blonde, had his confidence and serene expression belied by an almost hesitant attitude, which did not escape his alert brother.

"I would also avoid to disturb them if I could. But we have a mission to complete, and it's vital. We come here meaning no harm, and we will offer them a peaceful trade. There is enough water for everyone...We will not spill their blood if we can help it". The Sun elf nodded to his companion, freeing his mind from every thought and emotion but their objective and seizing the Weave, ready to channel.

His companion's offer of peace was greeted by an array of devastating spells from their shamans, which shook the ground and collapsed part of the entrance's ceiling. The Wood Elven Ranger sidestepped them with a sadness in his eyes, moving just enough to get out of harm's way, almost dancing. As he raised an eyebrow in disbelief at his companion's lightning reflexes, the Wizard raised his black mantle as his defensive wards absorbed the blunt of the attack, transforming a deadly assault into a minor wound to his arm.

So, they wanted a battle? Then they would have one. He wove a Zeal invocation (it had many names through ages...Alacrity...Zeal...many he could not remember. He idly thought as he cast it that on the Coast it was probably known as Haste) and several disabling spells as his formidable companion rained death on the enemies with his arrows, producing a sword which he wielded with equal mastery to dispatch those unlucky enough to survive 'till close combat.

On and on they advanced, like a killing wall of steel and arcane fire, obliterating their enemies without slowing down, until they reached the Spring, their objective. "We should get as many bottles as we can carry", said Celundel "we will n-" and he suddenly stopped, listening. Kael opened his mouth, but he was instantly silenced by the hunter's wide-eyes stare.

He produced a "3" with his fingers, and pointed towards the side room close by. He gestured to Kael to fill in the bottles as he was taking care of the advancing lizards, but the Archmage had seen too many friends die in vain, killed by a lucky shot from outnumbering foes, and he knew in this cave it was not so easy to find room to dodge, or a chance to vanish in plain sight, so he followed at a safe distance.

The chieftain and his retinue were definitely prepared to receive them. The two elves were met by a hail of spells and whirling axes: as Celundel parried, dodged, rolled and counterattacked, he quickly found himself fighting with his back against a side wall. Without his agility to compensate for the Lizardmen's brute force, the Ranger had to hold on to every scrap of his technique and determination to avoid his enemies' furious attacks.

Kael stilled his surging fury, as he embraced the Weave once more. He uttered a few words in the arcane language of magic, and wove a Sightblinder spell covering the whole cave (Blinding Flash...Sunburst...as usual with very ancient weaves, the spell was known with many names). He burned the two bodyguard's eyes, leaving them to scream in pain and move aimlessly across the room, but the Chieftain was an expert magician, and averted his stare just in time to avoid most of the effect.

Celundel, however, needed no more of an opening than that, and in a heartbeat he sliced both the warriors' throats in one fluid movement of his dancing blade, and gained some space as he dodged under the Chieftain's axe's deadly arc, slicing deep into his right leg in the process. His patience now over, Kael drew more from the Weave: Learn how fragile you are he thought, as he uttered the words of power: "Voidal Pyroclasm". The meteor strike, shaped to hit exactly the chieftain's location, was a blast of raging, destructive fury, masterfully shaped to leave the cave and Celundel unscathed. When the smoke dissipated, there was no sign of the chieftain, burned into ashes or pounded to a material point. Probably both.

As the ranger readied himself to travel by plant back to Darasha with their prize, the Arch Wizard could not help but notice the look of concern in his companion's eyes. Concern for his powers, for the imbalance they could bring to the forest. Concern for the ease with which he destroyed, killed with it. As Celundel disappeared into a tree, he wove a simple concealing weave, ready to ghostwalk back to town. He was not too tired to teleport, but he could use the time to think. As much as he tried, he could not stop hearing those words, a whisper inside his mind. Kor'Vain. Kor'vain.

Kor'Vain...

[Invoker]

The Archmage's Wrath

Celundel guided the group with uncanny expertise through the mountain passes, despite resenting the bitter cold. He avoided the larger groups of hostile creatures, eliminated the lone stragglers swiftly and efficiently with a precise arrow or a swift thrust of his sword directly out of the nearest shadow, and found the best paths to follow their prey while remaining downwind, out of sight and in defensible positions if need be.

Prey...if it is even appropriate to call a creature born to torture and kill, wielding terrible powers and with the blackest soul one can conceive a prey. Kael knew very well what the Dhaerow were capable of...aside from the stories (all true, sadly), he had first-hand experience of their raids in the Dalelands, and occasionally even helped the humans fight them off their lands, surrounding Cormanthor...He despised the Dhaerow. He feared their power, their ruthlessness, and what they represented: the evil buried deep inside his very own kind.

It enraged him, and scared him in a downward spiral, directly to burning hatred. He glanced at Celundel and Ithilwen. The ranger was worried, yet he had his feelings in a firm grasp, and an enviable poise. The mysterious Ice mage, on the other hand, was a mask of calmness , at ease amidst the frozen wastes of the Cloudpeaks and just as serene.

"The tracks lead directly inside the Keep" said Celundel, bent to examine the ground, and nodding upon finding something Kael could not fathom. Dead ice drakes and giants were lying all around them...they had the misfortune of being the Frost Keep guards this day. They died in moments, without a chance, nor a sound, save the soft "thud" as their carcasses hit the snowy ground. "We need to go inside, and make sure...we cannot leave unless we are certain..." he uttered in a waning whisper, as he entered the fortress, steps light as feathers, scouting ahead to prepare the way for his companions.

They found no Dhaerow inside. No tracks, no sign, nothing. What they DID find, was a worthy welcoming party constituted by an army of Giants, attacking them from all sides. As Celundel and Ithilwen rained death on their enemies with fiery blasts and eye-piercing arrows, Kael wove control spells in the form of magic webs and hindering pools of grease, as well as increasing his allies' mobility with Alacrity weaves to widen the mobility gap in their favor. They slew the groups that were barring their way to key locations of the fortress, they avoided others by means of stealth and guile, and by the end of it, they finally concluded without a doubt that none of their dark kin haunted the place, nor had been there, for that matter.

As they were studying their map looking for the best way to get out, a large group of Frost Giant Warriors (no less than five) appeared out of thin air, no doubt out of an invisibility weave of sort, all around Kael and Ithilwen. Celundel, the first one to notice more out of instinct than senses, shouted a warning just as Ithilwen vanished among the shadows of the room's nearest corner. Slower than his companions, Kael turned around as four Giants pounded with all their might on his frail figure, shattering his Mirror Images and rattling his defensive wards (which miraculously held) as his ribs cracked and his left shoulder dislocated.

His surprised and pained expression almost instantly gave way to unnatural calm as he voided his mind from all thoughts and fully embraced the Power. Staggering, his left arm limp at his side, he raised his now blazing eyes and traced fiery glyphs of power with his right hand as he uttered in a blank tone "Planar ghostwalk", right as the new wave of attacks from the giants passed right through his now ethereal body. Confused, the monsters turned their savage fury on Celundel, which after transforming one of them in a pincushion with an uncountable amount of arrows, was ready to face the others with raised shield, whirling sword and lightning reflexes. He dodged, blocked, slashed and used the inertia of the attacks to dodge roll out of hits that could have cleaved a barn, as Ithilwen cunningly repositioned and unleashed a magically conjured inferno on the grouped enemies.
Suddenly relieved of pressure, Kael passed to the offensive. He quickly wove one devastating spell after another, carefully shaping them around Celundel to keep him unharmed: "Voidal pyroclasm" he murmured as meteors rained down joining Ithilwen's firestorm, followed by "Harlek's incantation of incineration" blowing up a particularly burly member of the party in a blinding flash of light, and "Vise of Grief" as he gripped his hand into a fist, crushing another. Lost the surprise effect, the giants quickly succumbed under the combined attack of the three well organized elves.

That day, the giants regretted their zeal in pursuing them as they made their way out, and then back to the safety of Nashkell.

[Invoker]

Dark Spirit

Kael stood in the centre of the rooms the kind people of Darasha had granted him. His people, now, and his quarters...home. He looked around as the magic energy of his last spell waned, his gaze taking in the objects of his attention for the last few candlemarks: small travel books, scrolls, potions, freshly rune-engraved wands, a specific combat battle-robe... The battle was upon them, and he intended to be ready.

Not long ago, he would have described himself as peaceful. It was baffling how easily a few decades, a handful of years, at time even a single moment of violence could change an individual despite centuries of relative peace behind him. With his preparations all but completed, he allowed his mind to drift off, and immediately regretted it. Memories of Kalinor razed, of his family and friends turned into ashes clawed at him, wiping every scrap of serenity he had managed to muster. As his hands gripped into tight fists, mirrors shattered, vials broke and plates and goblets smashed against the walls before he could void his mind and will himself into calmly releasing the Power. As a small Air Elemental (the size of a gentle breeze, really) began cleaning the mess, he wove a last ward upon his wargear as he walked out, aiming for the woods.

"This will not be another Kalinor. I will not let you harm my people again. You should have killed Kael when you had the chance...Now, face Kor'Vain, the War Wizard"



He told himself he was going to show himself to the enemy stragglers and scouts to avoid their suspicions at the sudden calm. He told himself he could use some practice, with the final battle closing in. But deep down, he knew the truth...

The first orc, 2.5 meters of muscles and anger, exploded in a whirlwind of fire ten steps from him. Eyes burning with a sinister light fueled by the Power filling him and a raging fury, the Archmage did not even slow his pace as he gestured with his right hand and whispered "Death Gate", sending the lower half of an orc shaman to another dimension while the upper half, still unaware of his death, watched him in a stupor as he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Contemporarily, he raised his left palm as several crossbow bolts stopped mid-air just a breath away from him. "You dare fight me? If I were any less illuminated, I would say such stupidity warrants extinction..." as the sniping hunters were trying to relocate, they were reached by merciless, devastating weaves shaped carefully to affect the monsters, but leave the trees, the animals and every single blade of grass untouched: "Acid Inferno", and a corrosive storm reached its targets with unerring proficiency..."Aureal Incapacitator", a blinding flash who sent the bleeding-eyed greenskins screaming on their knees..."Voidal Pyroclasm", a meteor shower canceling the savages from existence, and leaving the landscape untouched as if nobody had ever been there...

"It has begun" he thought, as he performed weave after weave. They did not know yet, but death was coming for them on dark wings and swift hooves, arms held outstretched...

[Invoker]

Of Victory and Revenge

He watched his companions through one of the tavern's windows and a smile curved his lips. Talking, feasting, comforting each other in the warm light of the burning braziers...the bards' music filling the air as they danced...They looked so happy. So serene. He was glad for them.
He longed for those feelings, and he thought this victory, this revenge, would fix him, bring back what he had lost. Now these people...HIS people...his family...a family he had long sought and finally found, were safe, and free. So why could he not fully enjoy the celebration? Why was this darkness creeping around the edges of his happiness, like a hunter in the night patiently, relentlessly waiting for the firelight to fade?

His sad smile waned, then vanished as he raised his rune-engraved hood and turned away from the window in a single, fluid motion, the power of the persistent wards woven on his robe just as enveloping as his dark cloak, falling in place after swirling behind him. A shadow among shadows, he headed for the edge of Darasha, towards the forest. Once in a secluded glade, he lay in wait, perfectly still...it could be any moment, now...

As the first set of the Alarm weaves he placed on the narrow path connecting the High Moor to the Misty Forest alerted him, he snatched the Weave and almost instantly a slice in the fabric of space opened in front of him. He quickly entered the Gate, and flames preceded him out on the other side as he whispered in the arcane language of magic "Killing Rampart". The enormous wall of flames he evoked cut the large orc party's retreat, leaving them no other choice but to face him or die a fiery death. Even if battle weary, wounded, with their morale broken, he knew they would fight him. Just like he knew they would not have the time to regret not jumping into the fire in the first place...

He fed his emotions to the darkness within him, as he uttered in a blank voice: "Grief Elementals". When dawn would come, nothing would be left of the savage mosters but ashes in the wind...

[Invoker]

A Dhaerow Trail

Celundel guided the group with uncanny expertise through the mountain passes, despite resenting the bitter cold. He avoided the larger groups of hostile creatures, eliminated the lone stragglers swiftly and efficiently with a precise arrow or a swift thrust of his sword directly out of the nearest shadow, and found the best paths to follow their prey while remaining downwind, out of sight and in defensible positions if need be.

Prey...if it is even appropriate to call a creature born to torture and kill, wielding terrible powers and with the blackest soul one can conceive a prey. Kael knew very well what the Dhaerow were capable of...aside from the stories (all true, sadly), he had first-hand experience of their raids in the Dalelands, and occasionally even helped the humans fight them off their lands, surrounding Cormanthor...He despised the Dhaerow. He feared their power, their ruthlessness, and what they represented: the evil buried deep inside his very own kind.

It enraged him, and scared him in a downward spiral, directly to burning hatred. He glanced at Celundel and Ithilwen. The ranger was worried, yet he had his feelings in a firm grasp, and an enviable poise. The mysterious Ice mage, on the other hand, was a mask of calmness , at ease amidst the frozen wastes of the Cloudpeaks and just as serene.

"The tracks lead directly inside the Keep" said Celundel, bent to examine the ground, and nodding upon finding something Kael could not fathom. Dead ice drakes and giants were lying all around them...they had the misfortune of being the Frost Keep guards this day. They died in moments, without a chance, nor a sound, save the soft "thud" as their carcasses hit the snowy ground. "We need to go inside, and make sure...we cannot leave unless we are certain..." he uttered in a waning whisper, as he entered the fortress, steps light as feathers, scouting ahead to prepare the way for his companions.

They found no Dhaerow inside. No tracks, no sign, nothing. What they DID find, was a worthy welcoming party constituted by an army of Giants, attacking them from all sides. As Celundel and Ithilwen rained death on their enemies with fiery blasts and eye-piercing arrows, Kael wove control spells in the form of magic webs and hindering pools of grease, as well as increasing his allies' mobility with Alacrity weaves to widen the mobility gap in their favor. They slew the groups that were barring their way to key locations of the fortress, they avoided others by means of stealth and guile, and by the end of it, they finally concluded without a doubt that none of their dark kin haunted the place, nor had been there, for that matter.

[Invoker]

As I Lay Dying Pt. I

He was falling. His weave had killed or incapacitated many of the ambushers, but it had not been enough. Not enough...
Mendel had fallen. Nai had fallen. All the members of his new family had been slain by one of the Trickster's minions or the other. Only Celundel and Ithilwen were safe, vanished into the shadows, and himself...well, till now.

Another corpse on the battlefield...

The fall lasted forever, and then some more. But all along, the pain was gone. And with it, everything else. He was still falling, but his spirit had already moved on. He looked back on his mortally wounded, frail self...

Another corpse...just another corpse...

...and for the first time since Kalinor was destroyed, and all those he loved slain, he felt relieved. He was embracing death, welcoming it. No more suffering...he had avenged Kalinor, and defended Dharasha more than once. No reason to linger anymore...

Another corpse...another failure...

...and fail, he did. Not in death, but right before. He allowed his friends to be harmed...how could he? How could his power be insufficient? How could it have been not enough?

All your power. All your studies. All your talent...and yet... Not enough. Simply not enough...

Archmage Kael of the fallen Kalinor, now defender of Dharasha, Master of the Shadow Tower and one of the most prominent mages of the Coast and beyond snapped out of reverie and stood. Half of the furnitures in his room atop the Bridgefort ruins had been deleted by a disintegration weave: his own...

[Invoker]

As I Lay Dying Pt. II

Voices. He thought he could hear voices. Soothing, comforting female voices...two of them. But what were they trying to tell him? They were too far to hear clearly...if they even existed. And funny he should say that, since the one who was certainly no longer existing was him.

Don't leave...

He had never been particularly ordinary in life, and yet he had never thought he would go so completely and utterly insane after dying that he would have voices inside his head. He had never used inherently evil weaves, dabbled with blood magic (well, not significantly, at least) nor desecrated the sanctity of souls. He had respected the Seldarine, and learned to craft and discover with the Art, rather than destroy: he was an Archmage of peace, a shaper of worlds, a bright mind and an enlightened discoverer of the intricacies of the Weave and Nature, and the balance between them.

Come back...

Much good it had done to him, or even worse, those he loved: Kalinor razed to the ground...Dharashan blood flowing on the frozen slopes of the Cloudpeaks...
How did his vast knowledge serve him, as the poisoned orcish arrow numbed his limbs, making him powerless to stop his homeland's destruction? How exactly did his technically perfect weaves help, when the Trickster's lackeys crushed his loved ones before his eyes, and then struck him down too, as he tried to carry them to safety?

Please, don't go...

He should have felt serenity, now that all was over. He should have walked peacefully in the Seldarine's embrace. He should have entered Arvandor with a smile. But the truth was, he did not feel serene, peaceful and calm. He was ashamed for being unable to protect them. He was bitter for leaving them in the moment they needed him the most. But even more so, he was furious.

Stay with us...

He laid a hand on the gate, standing wide open for him. He slammed it shut with all his strength, white-hot rage flaring in his now bloodshot emerald eyes. As he turned away from the light, the Seldarine and eternity, his gold-and-silver-runed tunic became plain robes blacker than a moonless night, black gloves covered his hands, and a face mask concealed his features disfigured by ire.

Stay with me...

He walked back towards the pitch-black darkness that was the world of the living. He walked, and walked, fueled by rage, cursing himself, his way of life, his beliefs the Seldarine, his enemies...He walked until he hit a barrier, until he could smell the forest once more. Roaring, he lashed out, punching through the barrier with his right arm. The barrier cracked...he could see a ray of moonlight coming through and hear the forest's nightlife. The voices in his head, however, had stopped...


Archmage Kael of the Fallen Kalinor, Defender of Dharasha, Master of the Shadow Tower and arcanist of untold power stared in amazement at his right arm. The Bandit Leader lay dead in front of him, but that was hardly surprising: that was the inexorable doom of his opponents.
He had struck him with his arm itself, sort of unusual, but not really beyond belief either.

After a long moment, he found out: it was the pain. A shadow of what once was, a phantom pain that could not be, not really, not anymore.

He was hurt.

[Invoker]

BEYOND DEATH

A lament could be heard in the tranquility of Dharasha. It began with the setting sun, unbroken, voices singing of the deeds he had done in life.
She counted the strikes of the bell that sounded in the dead of night.

1...2...3...

As a ghost she moved over the path that led out of the village, face covered deep within her cowl. A full moon lighting the way, enhancing the twitching, living shadow beneath her.

4...5...6...

The path took her to the edge of the village, towards a secluded glade. The sound of the bell slowly faded as her footsteps took her deeper into the forest, toward her destination. She walked on, till a place where a field of wild roses had grown. There, he laid to be prepared for his final journey.

7...8...9...

She saw his fragile frame, laying serene, looking almost comfortable in the flowerbed. As if he was sleeping, yet his face did not behold the same warm golden color it used to have. A smile appeared on her pale face. 'I don't think I have ever seen you so serene my old friend... At last it seems you have found peace. A peace that eluded you in life...'

10..11..12...

The bell was only a faint notice in the back of her mind now. A single tear fell down her cheek until it froze solid on her skin. 'If only...I wish I had...' Her voice broke and she simply remained silent as she lifted her head to the full moon that shined down on the small open spot in the forest. On the flowerbed where the wild roses grew.

'will you pray with me tonight sister?' She turned around, startled, as she heard the voice of Priestess Elethineth, her emotions sliding down her face instantly, like drops in a waterfall.

'Priestess' She bowed her head as she spoke the following words.
'Yes, I will join you in your wake and stand by his side tonight'

She stepped closer as Elethineth walked towards her with a smile, her face serene as ever. They each moved to a side of the fallen mage's body.

'take my hands...' Ithilwen locked hands with Elethineth as requested and silently listened as the priestess started her prayer to the One Father and the rest of the Seldarine. Asking for a safe passing of the lost soul towards Arvandor.

Memories passed by in her minds eye. Memories of the Archmage, last of Kalinor, laying next to her. How they fought together against impossible odds countless times, victory after victory.
The times they laughed together, the times they studied together.
The discussions they used to have and how stubborn and unyielding he could be, despite his general open-mindedness and sheer genius. Yes, how annoying he could be...Insufferable at times, really...She smiled sadly.
'This was not yet your time...It's not fair...'

'Concentrate, close your eyes...'

The voice of Elethineth broke her line of thoughts and she nodded solemnly and closed her eyes. Letting Elethineth's words guide her into a trance, she joined her prayer.

She breathed slowly, in and out, let her body relax, closing out all forest sounds around her. Until there was nothing but a void in her mind. Time passed by but she had no notice of it. Time in the void did not exist. Only she herself was there, the monotone voice of Elethineth sounding in the distance of her mind.

'Call out his name...'

She didn't know if she spoke his name out loud, or if it was a mere whisper or if she only thought his name, she didn't know.

'Kael...'

A darkness penetrated into the void, a blackness as a moonless night. She could feel another presence close to her own. Elethineth? No... this was someone else...

She squeezed her eyes tighter as a sudden shiver went through her body. All around her, the priestess and the fallen Archwizard, a thick fog came up, covering them. The fog crackled with energy, so much energy, like...like life force itself. Ithilwen however barely noticed, still hovering in the void of her mind, watching the blackness swirl around. Could it be?...No...he was on his way to Arvandor...his spirit would not be here. Not now...Not after the Helmite Priest himself failed to bring him back.

Still in the void, next to Ithilwen, Kael's corpse began to glow, the energy concentrating on the broken empty husk that was once his body. A finger moved, then the full hand... Glassy green eyes shot open, as dead lips gasped for air, drawing in the life force that was all around.

At the edge of her mind she could hear Elethineths voice, she could not make up her words but it did drive her back to a sense of consciousness.

'Welcome back brother'

A weak familiar voice sounded in her ears as if someone screamed it right at her.

'Sisters...it was your love that guided me back...'



Her eyes opened wide now, first staring into Elethineths eyes. she let go of Elethinets hands, lingering, not daring to look down. Elethineth smiled, talking to the oh so familiar voice she just heard. Ithilwen jumped back, she then managed to look down as she held her breath.

She saw his bloodshot eyes, his pale skin, his faint and weak smile...but he was breathing! Breathing... This could not be... Yet here he was!

She felt a swell of sheer joy deep within, pure happiness. She was screaming inside of excitement that her friend was back! Back... the seldarine be praised! She could hug him, kiss him, squeeze him until he could not breathe! Oh, no...better not that...he barely started breathing again, and was never the toughest individual to begin with...

But on the outside only a composed smile appeared on her cold, pale face.

'It is good to have you back brother...'

[Invoker]

The Revenant

He looked at the stranger in the mirror. He looked and looked...and he kept looking.
As he watched the face he barely recognized, the pale skin that was not his, the silvery hair, the once emerald eyes now cracked and bloodshot, the thin lips, he could not help but wonder who really was that Ithilwen and Elethineth had brought back.

What is dead should stay dead...

He grimaces, touching the skin where the wounds should have been...the fatal wounds, which had costed him his life. Nothing. No pain...no scars...he looked as good as new. Except the thirst, of course...the thirst was almost unbearable...

You know what that means...You know what to do...

He growled, punching the creature in the mirror with all his less than considerable strength. The disgusting parody of his former self shattered, pieces flying everywhere across the room. He staggered, breathing heavily as his eyes fixated on the red substance flowing from the mirror's cracks. Blood.
Blood covered the stranger in the mirror. His blood. He looked down on his shaking hand, discovering an array of deep cuts all over it.

Why even come back? You are weak. You are useless. There is a way to change that, and you know it...take the path, or just lay down and die...

Trembling with rage, he dragged himself to his books, extracting a small, unassuming tome from the mass. It was a book he had read only once, containing spells he had vowed never to memorize. As he turned the pages, storing the glyphs of power, spell forms, arcane words and reagents needed to perform the weaves into his vast memory, he was well aware of the implications of it.

But he did not care. Not anymore. Once more, just like in Kalinor, he had been called upon to defend his loved ones, and once more he had failed. He knew what to do...and he knew he deserved nothing better than the fate he was bringing upon himself.

Yes...yes...A monster more powerful, more terrifying than any other. A dark defender, always ready to do what's needed, no matter the cost. You deserve nothing more than eternal damnation, and blood on your hands...

This frail body was not functional to his new role. He would need to see to that...

[Invoker]

Being watched


'breathe little one... it is over...it is just a dream...focus!'

Ithilwen breaks out of her reverie as Aza's words ring through her head once more. She looked around, trying to focus where she was. Mountains and a snowy terrain form slowly in her eyesight. She takes a deep breath as she places her bare feet on the snow. 'What happened to my boots?' ...'and the rest of my clothes for that matter'...

Confused she looked around, observing the in strange patterns formed ice-shard circles around her. The jagged dagger in the center of the mysterious pattern. Memories of last night incantations rushed back to her. She shakes her head slowly with a hint of irritation before picking up the dagger. she then carefully steps out of the pattern, avoiding the sharp ice-shards.

'Right...Now that obviously didn't work...'

She moved over to her clothes to get dressed and then walked on in the snow towards the mountain pass. She keeps walking down the mountain path until she reaches a small lake.

'Perhaps now... If I use my gift strong enough, you'll notice...'

She walked into the lake until the water comes waist deep. Her fingertips touched the water and she starts chanting in the strange arcane language. The surface of the lake begins to freeze over. First slowly, then faster and faster until the whole surface is frozen with a layer of ice except for a small ring around herself.



Her shadow starts twitching more violently the more she used her gift. As if the shadows itself came alive. More and more it moved until it split in two, one staying with her, twitching violently, the other dancing away from her.


She turned toward the shadow that moved away from her.
'Now stop! What do you want!'

The shadow turned towards her, it seemed as if it was laughing at her even if she did not hear anything. She lashed out a polar ray towards it but the shadow simply dodged it. It remained still for some seconds then vanished into thin air.

Exhausted Ithilwen stopped channeling and dragged herself back to shore.
'This does not work...'

Frustrated she pondered for quite some time. It always seemed to be there, whenever she touched her gift. Watching, observing. The shadows always had been her friend, she welcomed them. But this one had something odd about it and she could not explain what it was...

Tired she weaved a teleportation towards the misty forest, towards home... Yet she could not shake off the feeling something, or someone, was still watching, observing her every move...

[Invoker]

First Contact

It was late already. The village slowly prepared for a quiet night and the most of the people wandered around in search for their rooms. Her friends were still content celebrating their victory of the day in the tavern as Ithilwen moved to the edge of the village, close to the waterfall. With a hint of irritation she acknowledged she drank a bit too much this evening. The road did not seem to stop moving underneath her, making a steady pace basically impossible.

She sat down at the edge of the pond in a not so elegant manner and buried her head in her hands while placing her elbows on her knees.
So this is what Kael feels like when he had too much, she though as she leaned over to the water. The moonlight lit water showed her a dark face staring back at her. She tried to focus but the face kept on turning. With a sigh she fell backwards in the grass, her eyes sought the moon that showed her outline right in the opening of the trees. The night sky seemed to tumble and turn in front of her.

'Can't you stay still?...Where have you been anyway when I needed you the most...'

She closed her eyes as she took in a deep breath. She should be happy, content with what they achieved today. But not even the many mugs of mead and the laughter of her friends could remove this gnawing feeling she felt inside. The entity, she could not sense it anymore but she knew it was not gone. They gave it a blow, that was obvious, but it was far from over. In fact, it turned out to be much stronger than she first anticipated. Perhaps it had been a mistake in the first place to search the thing out in its own domain.

She opened her eyes as she stared up to the moon.
Why didn't you warn me? Why did you let me put my friends in danger?

She knew however, they would never have let her go in there alone. This is what family does for each other, she thought as a smile formed around her lips. 'This is what I always searched for..family...'
And yet, she endangered that family... Her smile died on her lips as the thought crossed her mind. Memories of earlier today flashing before her.

As soon as they entered the plane of shadows she sensed it was a trap. This was exactly where the creature wanted them. Playing her, toying with them on its grounds, its domain. The voice sounded so strongly in her head, laughing and taunting. It was there to simply pick up its prize as she presented herself right to its doorstep.

It had been dark, so dark that even her eyes could barely make out anything around her. It seemed to be an old ruined city, covered in shadow and darkness. They knew very well they simply had to adapt. Using any form of light source would attract the creatures of shadow to them like moths to the flame. But even without it they did not have to wait long until eerie creatures came looming around, sensing the living.



Welcome my priiize!... Come out and find me! If you can...

The haunting laughter and taunting voice in her mind would not stop as they made their way through a vast variety of shadow creatures and other dark beings.


It is THEM that will never leave...YOU are here only for a visit...yesss'


That voice, it even gave her out of all beings, cold shivers down her spine. It was so strong in her mind, so overwhelming. She looked at her friends one by one as they cut down the creatures in front of them. Kael evoked elemental forces, making them fall in great numbers at a time, mixing with her own weaves. Mendel, dancing and cutting through them like a killing wind. And then Grimm... she seldom saw anyone more sturdy, resilient and so deadly with an axe than that stout dwarf.

There seemed to be no end to the creatures. Trap after trap, draining their energy. An especially clever one was a horse skeleton they found on the ground. It burned, flames licking around the bones. Fuel for the fire long gone, yet it burned brightly. They stopped there, fascinated that something like a fire could even exist in this plane. A mistake as the fire itself was a flashing beacon to be seen from far in such a dark place. The shadow beings streamed in from over the ruined city walls, attracted to the light, sensing their lifesource so close to it. They had to run and put great distance between them and the fire to break the detection from those beings drawn to the light.

The voice laughed with full confidence in her mind as she realized it was just toying with them. Give me yourrrr Mind! I will spare them... give innn to meee!


The voice became stronger, they had to be close now. She could feel its intensity increasing. Its eyes watching her every move. A voice so sweet, tempting her to give in. Surrender...
It sounded all so logical. Why would she not? She glanced at her companions, all quite spent and battered, pulling on their last energy reserves. If she just...
'No! I am done playing games... show yourself!'
A sensation of the being engulfed her, drawing her towards its location. They were close, very close...

A garden loomed up in front of them. Not a beautiful blooming garden. No, quite the opposite. Broken, dark and ragged... Nothing but a shadow of a garden. It teemed with negative energy, she could feel it. A glance at Kael beside her told her he was sensing the same. They moved in with caution, Mendel first, followed by the rest. There was nothing to be seen apart from darkness and unreal plantlife. Despair hovered all over the place.

She sensed the entity had to be close, very close. Now where in the hells was it!
Mendel's urgent whisper came out all of a sudden. 'Over here! Behind those trees!...'
She glances to the location her brother pointed out to her but all she saw was blackness. There was nothing...Unless... Her eyes widened as the shadows started to swirl, taking shape. And there it stood, the entity. A haunting creature of shadow, as cold and dark as the dead of a winter night itself.

I am..hunger.... I am... Thirst...I am... Darkness...I am...the Voice...

The creature spoke out loud now, it resonated in her mind but she noticed, almost in a daze, her companions could hear it as well.

You will be the key, my priiiize....you...will be the Gate!

Shadows engulfed her as she stared at the creature, frozen as she took it in as it stood in front of her. Mendel did not hesitate a moment and moved between her and the entity protectively.
She heard Kael's voice next to her, filled with focused rage: 'Gate, you say? Why, I can provide you one...a Deathgate...'

'No! I need answers! I...' She tried to move past Mendel who stopped her as he himself addressed the creature: 'You cannot have her! I will not allow this!'
The creature grew in size all of a sudden, towering high above them as it laughed, a haunting, distorted laugh. It lashed out for Ithilwen with a claw-shaped, shadowy arm. She sensed Kael's weaving next to her as she moved into shadow herself, trying to dodge the claw coming for her.



Things happened fast after that, shadowy creatures coming closer from all directions launching an attack at them as the entity tried to grab her. as she looked around she saw her friends engaged in combat with the entity. She started weaving herself and a fierce battle took place that drained her fully.

The entity got hit hard, it filled with anger, lashing around at them as the group increased their attacks on it, before it suddenly vanished. Dissipating in shards of black mist and shadows. Screams of rage filling the area before nothing but the shadowy garden was left. The intense blackness had lifted from it. It was gone...

Ithilwen closed her eyes once more as she took in a deep breath. She could feel the soft grass underneath her. The spinning of the moon seemed to have lessened and she could focus more properly now. She remembered the voice of the entity as it was gone. A scream of pain and anger. it sounded far away. wounded... but by no means was it gone... Of that, she was certain...

[Invoker]

Insubordination


It was getting late as she walked deep within the misty forest. It must have been candlemarks ago that she left the village. The guards were still in front of her door most likely. A wizard has many ways of moving unseen, she thought with a slight smile. She looked up to the trees and glanced around. No, not even the bat, Nightwing, seemed to be around any longer. Perhaps she finally made enough distance between herself and the village.

Ithilwen moved towards a small opening within the forest. The last rays of the sun lightened the place only partially but a hangover rock with an old pine next to it would provide enough shelter for the night she thought. She sat down with her back against the rock and placed her bag in front of her. With all the orcs around she did not dare to make a fire or any light for that matter. Not the best solution given her current predicament she thought with a hint of irritation. The orc tracks had been far off this place as far as she could tell. She pulled her bag closer and started taking out silver. 'This will have to do instead of light then' she muttered. Rings, bracelets, necklaces... She put them on and huddled closer to the rock.

The sun was setting, it would get dark soon. She felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach. Would it come for her this very night? At least, she was alone, in a secluded area ... Who would look for her here? She took out an apple and started eating it. Not that it would satiate her hunger, another thing that bothered her of late...

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It did not matter what happened either way... Yes, this was the right decision. At least now she could be certain the village was safe. She would not bring any danger to it if she stayed away. Fhaeo's words lingered in her head. 'What if others like paladins would notice you attract shadow creatures? They might think Dharasha was involved with shady and evil practices.'
Or Lady Luthien. 'Why did you listen to Deacon! You'd make a widow out of me with your irresponsible behaviour! Especially in your current situation it is foolish to undertake such endeavors!' The eerie voice of the entity joined in. 'YouR pATh is oNe of sorROw and SOLitudE.... It alWays HAS been.'
She saw the giant shadowy claw come for her, she wanted to run but she was trapped, her feet frozen to the ground. Right before the claw took her she opened her eyes.

Startled she heard the flapping of wings. The forest was in almost complete darkness, nothing but trees around her. She must have had a dream as she went in reverie. The wings again, she watched in the direction the sound came from. A twig cracked and she moved closer to the rock. It could be just an animal, or an orc... or something worse, even. She pressed herself closer to the rock, watching as she let some of her gift trickle to her hand, ready to lash out if needed...

When she saw the dark figure, cloaked in mists and shadows, her instincts took over. She channeled one of the deadliest weaves in her arsenal of frost spells, empowering it with her own special weaving technique. The Polar Ray froze everything in the close proximity of its path towards the dark figure, and stopped mere inches short of the approaching man. The dark clad individual sighed heavily. "Fortunately, I have a set of quickened weaves to deal with this kind of inconvenience...except, I did not expect to need them with you. A weave of that strength...what did you want to do, destroy the Misty Forest?" Archmage Kael chuckled in relief, either for being still alive, for having found his sister in time, or both..."Can I ask you, in the name of the bloody Seldarine, what do you think you are doing out here alone this close to dusk? Aside from trying to kill me, because that much is obvious..."

She blinked as she recognized the voice of the man before her and takes a step backwards. 'How...I could have killed you! What am I doing here? I could ask you the exact same thing!' A hint of worry and anger could be heard in her voice. She takes a deep breath and lowers her voice. 'Isn't it obvious what I am doing here? I did what I should have done a long time ago. Leave the village. I am a threat to my own people. I have lived alone for over two centuries. It seems Aza was right in the end... I'll stay here, where I won't be a burden to anyone. I'll face my trouble alone.' Ithilwen crossed her arms and turned away from him. 'Go before full darkness falls...'

"Of course I will go...and you are coming with me. I will Travel, otherwise darkness will be upon us well before we reach safety...As for keeping your people safe...how exactly are you doing that? Once this entity had its way with you...who do you think will be next? Will this thing let those that know the truth live? I don't think so...and neither should you. This is bigger than you and me. You heard the rumors...you know what I discovered. It will not be stopped. Your death will only be the beginning..." He turned away, hiding his expression, then he utters in a blank tone: "Come with me...you know I am right." Then, after a short pause: "I don't want to lose you...I am not going anywhere without you."

Ithilwen glanced towards him, considering his words. The shadowcreature could indeed go for Dharasha once it took her. If it took her. She had no intention to let that happen. But was she strong enough alone? She simply had to be, there was no other option. She had to keep her family safe. 'No Kael, you have to go back. I will face this thing alone. You know my strength. I'll have to do this and you must return in case...' She paused. 'In case I fail. They will need you then. Besides, you heard the Akh'Aegis, I might attract the wrong kind of attention to the village. It is better this way.' She took a step towards him. 'You must go back.'

The dark wizard mutters some horrid curse against everything that is known as holy in the Prime Material Plane in an immaculately blank tone, before weaving. A gust of wind pushed Ithilwen from the back, gently but firmly shoving her into the Archmage's arms as he turned around. "Of course, First Wizard...always at your service" He Quickened a Travel weave towards Dharasha. She recognized the formula despite the shock, her eyes widening as he channeled. He did not give her a chance to stop him, and as his lips touched hers they disappeared in a brilliant white light.



Back at the village

[Invoker]

The Curtain Falls

He stared at the shadowy figure observing them from well outside the light circle Deacon had created. This was not how he thought it would be. The creature was sending forth its minions once again. It was willing to wait. Well, he was not. They could not afford to go on like this. Everyone was in perpetual danger, and she...she had reached the breaking point. It had to end this very night...

He could not see the Grovemaster any longer, his tiny figure engulfed by a darkness so thick not even the special sight he acquired after his death could pierce. Grimm and Mendel were gripping their weapons, calm like skilled, seasoned warriors tend to be before a battle. Except, this was no common battle. It was a last stand. As the darkness began eating at the light circle, consuming the only protection keeping the shadows away from Ithilwen, he raked his brain furiously for a counter, a solution. Then it came to him. In last stands, people die....however, how many do they send to hell in front of them to prepare their own arrival? That's the key...The creature was incommensurably powerful...but not ALL powerful. If he could kill enough of its minions...and then maybe hurt it...weaken it, somehow...

He embraced as much as the Power he could hold without bursting, and walked outside the waning lights of the circle. He walked directly towards the Nightwalker observing them. "You think I am scared of you? It is you who should be scared of me...". As he reached it, the creature melt away, and three more formed all around him, beginning to pound on his wards with incredible strength. Deacon's Sunburst weaves came one after the other, battering the creatures which however kept striking him with enough force to strain his defenses to the limit.

"Very well...let's skip the pleasantries, shall we..." said the dark wizard as he began weaving. "Killing Rampart". A huge wall of consuming flames began burning all around him, empowered with all the energy he could spare. He was shielded against fire, but the creatures began to suffer tremendous damage. They redoubled their efforts to take him down, and his protective wards began to breach. Mirrorshroud...Deceptive Eidolons...Elemental Aegis...Void Shield...
The defensive weaves followed one another as he desperately struggled to stay concentrated and conscious during the creatures' onslaught, while the immense wall of fire consumed them.

When the last one faded into the flames, the Archmage grinned. It was done. He made it. Now, he would just replace his key wards, and confront the monster with his allies' help, and t-
His thoughts were broken by three unraveling weaves of untold power, creating a large null field on his location and voiding his defenses instantly. Three more creatures formed all around him, beginning the attack anew, only this time, their blows connected directly with his defenseless self.
The strength of the impacts sent him staggering backwards, his supernaturally hardened body being the only reason why his skull was not instantly crushed and his limbs torn apart. He quickened a Zeal weave and tried to get some distance from them, fall back to the broken light circle, but the creatures did not pause: they followed him in, even faster than he was, and kept pummeling him. Feeling his life force slipping away, the dark mage invoked one of the most powerful defensive weaves he knew, but the final words of the formula died on his lips as the closest of the three Nightwalkers put its shadow claw right through his heart, stopping it instantly.

He fell to his knees under the stunned glances of his allies. His last thought was for them...for her. He hoped he had dealt enough damage to the creature's minions for his friends to secure the win and save Ithilwen, but deep within he knew he had not. He had failed them. He had failed her. Archmage Kael's last expression was an amused smirk of disgust, still visible on the black robed, withered husk that was all that was left of him.

[Invoker]

The Persistence of Loss





This was not how it should be. It had been a victory, she could not deny that, but the cost had been too high. Way too much to let it feel like a success at all. Her hunger was gone, but an even bigger emptiness inside her replaced it. Consuming her from deep within...

'It will be alright, we'll destroy this beast!' She watched him as she stood in Deacon's circle of dimmed lightorbs. She looked around once more, seeing Mendel, Grimm and Deacon stand ready, just outside the circle. She knew Nai, Elethineth and the others were waiting on top of the ridge to spring the trap once the creature would show itself. Her eyes turned back on his black shape. His features mostly covered in the dark velvet robes. As she did she noticed something was approaching, something dark and malevolent, and that something came for her. 'Put on the blindfold, This is going to hurt...'
She nodded once and covered her eyes, not knowing yet that this would be the last time she would see him.

She heard Deacon's voice chanting, the circle of orbs were lighted to stop the shadow. She could sense its minions all around, even without seeing anything. She heard screams and sounds of battle. The hunger became almost unbearable and with great effort she kept on standing.

Something went wrong there and then. Where was Nai? Where were the others? She could not hear them and the blindfold only gave her partial notice of the battle. Not that it would have made much difference. In the state she was in right now the light would have blinded her anyway. At least the burning pain would be less now.

Too many, she sensed too many of them. All around. Where was the backup? A surging hunger went through her as she could hear the entity's voice in her head. 'YoU Can'T Hide FrOm me... sTep iN tHe sHadOw anD I'll mAke iT Sstop!'

She could hear screams around her, people fallen, people wounded...
Deacon speaking something about the mage. As she tried to focus on what was happening around her she could make out a stronger being. Beckoning for her, standing right outside the circle of light. It was luring her and part of her wanted to. Longed for it to be in shadow. But she kept standing, fighting the inner battle.

'CaN yUo Tasste It! YeSSsss! TogHether we will fEast! He is MiNe NoW!...Step into sHaDow...I CaN ReTurn wHat I hAVe Taken...GIVE you PoWerr! CoMe to my Servant...'

She could feel the servant outside the circle beckoning to her again.
She took off her blindfold and a surging pain burned in her eyes, all was blurry in the remaining light of the circle, even if it seemed battered and not fully in tact at all. She could not recognize any shapes around her, of her comrades. She knew they were there but the words did not reach her mind. She closed her eyes to use her mage sense, trying to find him but there was nothing. No trace of him. Only the strong residue of previously used magic. His signature...

'Where is he?...' Before she could pick up any answer from her comrades the voice resonated in her head. 'He is MiNe! The meddlinG MaGe! wE wIll FeaSt tOgETher!'
'No, no... this can't be... Give him back!'
'I CaN... CoMe to Me! GiVe YouRself tO me!'

Ithilwen did not think straight, deaf to the voices of her friends she moved forward with the full intention to bring him back. To step in shadow. Whatever happened. What meaning did life have anyway, without him?

She could hear Mendel next to her. 'He is alive! Nai brought him to the village! Ithilwen don't do this! The creature is lying!'
She stopped. Could this be true? She tried to sense him once more with her gift, but there was nothing. Nothing that would give any evidence of either speaking the truth. Her head spinned, what was true, what wasn't? Were they trying to save her life by hiding the truth? Was this creature trying to lure her in by shading the truth?
'Take me...But give him back!'
She gritted her teeth and took another step towards the shadow's servant. At that moment Nai took hold of her in her dragon shape and with not much effort Ithilwen was pulled back by the dragon, to the village. As Nai kept a hold on Ithilwen she managed to grab more wounded elves, helping them on her back, on their path towards the village.

Anger and pain surged through her like a flame. Yet on the outside she was frozen. Back in the village Luthien came for them. Elethineth's broken body was carried on Nai's back, together with the other wounded. Luthien kneeled next to her wife right away, tears flowing over her cheeks. A prayer to the elder father brought back life to the other priestess however and Elethineth looked up with a weak smile to Luthien. They held eachother in their arms and Ithilwen felt slightly relieved at the sight, but there was also a jolt of pain. Where was he?

Luthien moved up to Ithilwen after she had a short summary of what happened from Mendel, Deacon and Grimm.
'We should do the communion, now. There is no time to waste.'
Without answering any of her questions, Ithilwen asked her one thing. 'Show him to me...'
Luthien watched her and told her he was recovering, she could not see him now, but he was safe. To keep the rest of them safe, the communion had to take place now!

That communion again. The mind prying thing... Her mind was not set on it at all. She just wanted to make sure he was alright. Why could she not see him? What were they hiding from her?
'I will do the communion as soon as I have seen him...As soon as I know he is alright. Just let me see him!'
Luthien once more told her there was no time, the communion had to take place now for the good of the people... Everyone could still be in danger.

Ithilwen took a deep breath. She had kept on asking Luthien to see his body over and over but the priestess refused her. She tried to sense him once more now that she was in the village but there was nothing. If he was close by she should have felt something. He was lost... She realized that now. An emptiness filled her that she did not even stagger when the hunger took hold of her. A frozen mask formed on her face. What did it all matter now? Just do this bloody communion... At least it would protect the rest of her family, hopefully.

'Ithilwen! Now! The communion!' Luthien almost screamed at her but she felt numb. Even moving seemed too much of an effort, suddenly. Nai pulled her to the ground as the other elves sat themselves on the grassy forest floor at the edge of the village. She could hear Elethineth's voice, calm and monotone, guiding all into a trance. Just like that night they both were there praying a last prayer for him. Ithilwen just felt empty, unable to focus, it was as if she was there, but not really. It was her, holding the hands of Luthien and Elethineth but it felt as if it were not her own hands. The world in front of her started to shift then, fogging up until something else came into shape.

She could feel a coldness around her. She welcomed it. Her feet stood on iced ground. She smiled as she bent over to grab some of the snow in her hand. She let it slowly slip through her fingers and watched it fall. 'Just like life, you can't hold on to it...'

'So...YoU CaME... You CaMe to me.'
Ithilwen looked up as she saw a huge blackness forming out of nothing. Shadows swirled around forming the creature she had met before in the eery garden in the shadowplane. 'Be my GaTe now!...I wIll give HiM to You! Your Mage...I HaVe hIm. CoMe tO me! It opened it's enormous black shadowy claw and in there a blackness swirled around, forming a shadowy orb. Could this be? Did the entity have him? She stared at the orb in its claw. Even if it wasn't, what did it matter in the end, but if it was he would be free. She only needed to step into the shadow. It was all so easy. Just be done with it. The pain would be gone. No more fighting...Just, oblivion...she only had to let go...

She moved closer to the entity and she could feel the coldness of it, cold even for her measures and that said something. It's claw came for her, she did not mind. He could be free... she hoped he would be...
'Stop! Step back!' Luthien and Elethineth came from behind her, moving towards her. 'Don't do it! The beast is lying!' Ithilwen did not move away however. Elethineth's voice sounded then. 'He would not have wanted this. You are giving away his gift to you!'

Ithilwen turned around then, taking a step back as if waking up. The creature's claw grasped in the air and it sounded angry. 'No! sHe GaVE herselF To ME!.

Luthien joined in then. 'Take me instead of her!'
'You have NOTHING I NeED PrIESteSS!' The creature turned to Ithilwen once more. 'CoMe tO mE NOW and I wiLl GiVe YouR Mage'
All of a sudden, time stopped, then rushed forward in a vortex of action. Luthien used all power Corellon granted her, but the entity twisted it and it flared back towards the Priestess. When the brilliant white light faded, the Cor'miira's body laid on the ground, crumpled and still. Elethineth reacted incredibly fast: seeing what happened lounged at the creature with a scream of horror and rage, to avenge her wife. But the creature just laughed and it did not take long before even the mighty priestess joined her consort on the cold snowy ground.

Ithilwen felt a spark of rage inside the void, enough to fuel her anger, letting it build up inside her until it burst and she used her magic on the shadow, with all the power she could add to her deadliest weave. Frustration, pain and confusion came out all at once. The creature dissolved in shadows with a painful scream. Ithilwen fell to her knees, tears flowing from her cheeks, dropping as icepearls in the snow beneath her. The rage left her, and with it the vitality, the will to go on. All that remained was the emptiness.



The world shifted back once more. The village slowly took shape all around her. She lifted her head towards the sun. No pain. The hunger left her, she could no longer feel the slightest hint of it. And yet no smile formed on her lips...no joy surged in her heart. Another emptiness had taken the place of the monster's curse inside her. More natural, more hopeless and more consuming than the former had ever been...

[Invoker]

One Last Time

It had been three nights, or had been more? Ithilwen did not know. It was as if she moved in a bubble of thick liquid. Everything seemed heavy. Even lifting her arm felt as if it drained all her energy. Candle-marks passed by as if it were centuries. She felt old. Extremely old.

She closed her eyes and the image of Aza formed in her mind.

'Don't judge me for my choices little one. You can't truly know how it feels, or what it does to you until you have lived it yourself.'

She knew now... The image of Aza changed into Kael's, but with that came the pain. She took a deep breath and pushed the image from her mind, let the void seep in again.

She had to collect what was left of him. What Nai carried with her from the battle was nothing more than a dry husk. Hollow, without any hint of life. Once in the temple it started to crumble, fall apart until nothing but his robes and some ashes were left. At least that is what they had told her. No wonder Luthien was unwilling to tell her so shortly after the battle. What happened to him to have caused this extreme deterioration? It was as if there never had been life in it. An ashen copy of the black mage...

It was time now. This was not going to be easy but as long as she could keep his image away, it would do. Look at it from a distance, she might have enough strength to pull it through. She owed him at least that.

She didn't know how she got in front of the temple door all of a sudden. Her feet must have dragged her to it while she was in thought. She took another deep breath and pushed the rest of her thoughts in the void. The frozen mask in place on her face, solid. No emotions, no nothing.

An elven templemaiden showed her the way and pointed into a room with a table and one single lit candle. Ithilwen walked on alone towards the table where the remains of Kael were supposed to be. She fought the upcoming memories and emotions back, keeping the void in her mind. And there it was, his velvet black robes flat on the table, nothing filling it. Only some traces of ashes as if he just burned away and crumbled. She could not feel anything from it. No presence, no essence... as if this never had been Kael.

She took out a black urn. Black as the moonless night itself, with no decorations. She held it up and watched in to it. Reflecting the same black void as she felt inside. Ithilwen then started to murmur some words in the arcane language and the lit moved from the urn as she was still holding it with both hands in front of her. The ashes started to move and to float. It came together and hovered above the black robes for a moment before it was drawn into the black urn. The lit closed on the urn and she packed it away carefully. The templemaiden came from behind and wanted to take his black robes but Ithilwen stopped her. She had to do this herself. She folded the robes as if it were something life-precious. Holding the folded robes carefully in her arms and the urn secure at her side, she left towards her chambers.



Back there, she placed the urn on a small table in the room.
And then she broke. The emotions going through her, not able to stop it, as a tidal wave hitting her. The folded black velvet spread around her as she fell on her knees in front of the urn.