The Blessed of Sune

by ely.cady.313

In the midst of post-spellplague Faerun, a wayward wanderer enters Cormyr's borders, bereft of a life and home long lost. But the past does not always remain so, and she must sever those threads of history before the shadows of her nightmares become manifest. A new home, and a new adventure to make it her own, awaits, in this land of humans, even to one who is not...

The Blessed of

Sune

by

Shawn M. Cady

Also by Shawn Cady

The Vicelord Chronicles

-Book 1 The Jewel of the Sands (2015)

-Book 2 The Kingdom of the Sands (2015)

-Book 3 The Scepter of the Sands (TBA)

-Book 4 The Throne of the Sands (TBA)

The Enchanter's Cycle

-Book 1 The Path in the Shadow (2014)

-Book 2 The Phoenix Fate (2015)

-Book 3 The Scythe and the Seer (2015)

-Book 4 The Will of the Conclave (TBA)

-Book 5 The All-One (TBA)

-Book 6 The End Time (TBA)

The Dreadborne Legacy

-Book 1 The Heart of Darkness (2012)

-Book 2 The Will of the Old Ones (TBA)

-Book 3 The Soul Forge and the Darkest Depths (TBA)

Standalone

-The Dragon's Apprentice (2015)

The Faerûnian Calander

Every year on the world of Abeir-Toril is measured in three hundred and sixty five days, split up into twelve months of thirty days each, with five holidays spread throughout. The months are given both formal names and common names, spoken depending on the nearness of a holiday or with special emphasis. Each week consists of ten days, called a tenday. Each year is commonly measured by the Dalereckoning scale, beginning in the Year of Sunrise, when the Standing Stone was raised by the elves of Cormanthyr and the Human Dalesfolk.

Month: Formal Name, Common name

1: Hammer, Deepwinter

2: Alturiak, The Claw of Winter

3: Ches, The Claw of the Sunsets

4: Tarsakh, The Claw of the Storms

5: Mirtul, The Melting

6: Kythorn, The Time of Flowers

7: Flamerule, Summertide

8: Elesias, Highsun

9: Eleint, The Fading

10: Marpenoth, Leaffall

11 Uktar, The Rotting

12 Nightal, The Drawing Down

Prelude

Ministry of Immigration, Elversult (4th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Traskus Orthal righted the documents piled high on his Oakwood desk as he prepared for his next interview.

At the far wall, the wind rustled the curtains, offering brief glimpses of Elversult in the Fall. The fat, spade-shaped leaves, painted all manner of autumn colors, were still baring for the winter ahead. The sun-dappled swirl as the wind carried them away brought a weary smile to his face, distracting him from his work.

The rim of the Dragonmere a mere half hour away, Elversult remained a bustling trading post to restock on the route between Suzail, capital of Cormyr, and several other cities along the stretch of the Dragon Coast. Crates and barrels of trade goods, mostly fish, linen, cloth, and leather, were driven by teamsters and day laborers in an unceasing flurry of activity. Shouts and curses filled the air, spoiling the majesty, but nonetheless creating its own of sorts, a window into the Human existence.

But unlike most towns, Elversult maintained a carefully recorded population. 9,639 men, woman, and children. No more. Every birth and death was counted, carefully recorded in the registry. Just like most towns in this country. Outlanders were permitted to pass, to trade, but not to settle. Not without approval.

Begrudgingly, he returned his attention to his documentation, another window into Humanity.

Birth certificates, registries, financial records, family records. The blueprints of the lives of the countless immigrants seeking entry to Cormyr, his home.

Many of them refugees from Shadovar-controlled Sembia. So many poured in every day. And so many had to be turned right around to Westgate or some such. Even with Salen, his associate and priest of Oghma, lord of knowledge, casting his unique form of clerical inquiry into the nature of each applicant, it was difficult to recognize which ones were destitute refugees and which ones were tainted by Shar's poisonous faith and sent to weaken Cormyr through subterfuge. The darkness of post-shadovar Sembia seeped into every living thing from those lands, twisting them in subtle ways.

Still, his friend was invaluable in detecting falsehoods; a useful trait for this station.

He reconciled his guilt with the knowledge of those that indeed passed his tests and Salen's and were permitted to settle in Cormyr, the best line of defense against risen Netheril. His job, while tedious and very demanding, was vital to the health of his nation. The right people would strengthen Cormyr. The wrong people would weaken it.

Commoners, tradesmen, nobility, scholars, warriors, wizards, sellswords; all of them passed through offices like his own, stationed at cities surrounding all of Cormyr's borders. He had seen Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes. All manner of the more exotic races.

But even he was given pause as the next applicant was ushered in.

That she was indeed a she, Traskus had little doubt. Her slender neck, thin waist, and wide hips made it clear enough. But she was also certainly no Human, nor Elf, nor anything he had seen or even heard of.

Her skin was a light, almost sky blue, with splotches running along her back and shoulders of darker violet, the color of her eyes, the pupils thin reptilian slits. Her face was something akin to a lizard's, roughly triangular, with a long, delicate snout, but with a thick crest of painted feathers, and small ivory protrusions along her brow and the sides of her head. A long, rounded tail darted to and fro nervously as she studied his room, then took her seat before his desk, righting her linen cloak, a muted dull brown. Her hands, thin but nimble and dexterous, were tipped with finely manicured nails, though the paint there had begun to rub off. Her jewelry, a pair of thin bangles on each wrist, were copper, but finely polished. An alloy of good quality. The amethyst charm dangling from her forehead, connected by a chain circlet, was also well-made, if of relatively cheap material. He decided she knew of some measure of wealth, but was no noble.

Her feathers plumed, and a long, forked tongue shot out from her lips, tasting the air, before swiftly retracting.

She held a roll of parchment and a paper board with several sheets tacked to it, the beginning of her registry. He motioned for the blank documents, to which he would fill, which were surrendered without comment.

He started at the first page.

"Well then..." Traskus said, nonplussed, "We can start right away. Your name."

"Kaileena." she replied in a light, wilting child's voice, the inside of her mouth a pale pink hue, her teeth short but uniformly sharp, "Your?"

"Traskus Orthal, Supervisor of the Elversult Chapter of the Cormyrean Immigration Center. What is your age?"

"Agge?"

"How old are you"

It took a moment. Her expression pinched, as she struggled to process his words.

"Nohn'ten"

Nineteen.

"Still Common...learn." she added, embarrassed, "You Chondathan speak?"

"Yes." he replied in that very tongue, having studied seven languages in his time as a wizard's apprentice before finding that he was much more skilled in mundane applications of intellect, memory, and attention to detail, rather than magical.

"Thank you." Kaileena replied with an odd intonation to her otherwise perfect accent, "I speak three languages already, and it is difficult to learn more."

"Don't I know it." Traskus chuckled, "My friend Salen here will be monitoring your words for signs of falsehood. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Very well then. What languages do you speak?"

"Chondathan. Nihongo. Some Undercommon."

Check. Check. Check.

"Are you literate in any?"

"Nihongo. The basic vocabulary"

Literate in one language.

That name again...

He perused his memory of written dialects, and was left at a loss. He had her carefully spell it for him.

"It is of my homeland. Teikoku."

"Another name I am not familiar."

"Do you know Thay?"

"Yes."

"East of Thay." Kaileena replied, "Through the Hordelands, across the Great Ice Sea. A large Island."

He carefully noted this.

"Never heard of it. You have come a long way, Kaileena."

"Yes."

Shrugging, he continued his line of questioning, "I do not recognize your race. What exactly are you? Lizardfolk? Genasi?"

"I have never met another like me."

Given pause by the response, Traskus eyed the creature.

Her trail lashed while she sat. She seemed to have a hard time keeping her position steady, though she had little difficulty maintaining eye contact. She was nervous. Not of him, but...

"You are uncomfortable."

"I am nervous." Kaileena admitted, "This is all so new to me. But I very much want to see Suzail. If I can, I want to live there."

Permanent resident. Suzail, specifically.

"Yes?"

She rustled her cloak as she set her hands in her lap, "I have heard tales of your lands. Your cities. Your people. I know not many who are...not Human, are allowed in."

Lizardfolk, female. Uncertain variant.

"You heard correctly. Some. Not many." he replied, to which she quickly added, "In my homeland, most are Human. Different than you, but similar, yes. My father was Human."

"You are half-blooded?"

"He raised me." she corrected, "He...found me. He never told me exactly how. But he raised me with his son, my brother and only remaining family. I lived in a Human village."

Her hands started shaking. He saw, and she picked up on it. Her expression tightened, and the shaking passed.

Unsure of what to make of it, Traskus ignored it.

"He is not here with you?"

"No."

"That must have been difficult, leaving your homeland."

"Yes."

He laughed, "I will stay on task, then. Have you ever willingly participated in the use of intoxicating substances, such as mistleaf?"

"No."

"Alcohol?"

"No."

"Martial training?"

"No. Females are forbidden to carry weapons."

"Magical proficiency?"

"Yes. Minor."

"Explain."

Kaileena hissed, though it sounded puzzled, not angry, "I can run farther and faster without tiring, and, for a time, without food. I can move things by thinking it. I can become privy to facts in the world without knowing them beforehand. Sometimes, I can mimic another's spells. And very rarely, I can conjure spirits."

Necromancy?

"Spirits of the dead?"

"I don't think so." Kaileena replied, "They feel more like animals. I think they are native to another plane. One without solidity."

Conjuration.

"Impressive. You are a wizard, then?"

"No. My power comes from another. A fae spirit. I think. His name is Guardian."

Fae-pact warlock. Fair enough.

"I see no brand on your body. Most warlocks can also use a token or artifact as a medium. What do you use to commune with this spirit, and manifest its power?"

Kaileena shrugged, "Your men took my pack in the other room. There was a lamp there."

"I will have Salen take a look at it." Traskus noted, "One of the War Wizards will also conduct an interview before you leave, just to test your capabilities. Okay. Nearly done. Desired profession?"

Kaileena sighed, and rose to her feet. She doffed her cloak, revealing her wardrobe.

Hardly modest, she wore a short-sleeved top cut to reveal her midriff. Light pink linen cut thin and tightly adhering, its trim was genuine gold thread. Her leggings were likewise cut to show the inside of her thighs, and reached to her calves. Her modesty was covered only by a thin undergarment and a knotted violet sash belted about her waist. It looked like something out of a Calimshite Lord's Harem.

"I was many things in my travels." Kaileena replied, sheepishly, eyes averted, "But lately I have been a dancer. I know several different styles of varying footwork and intricacy, including the Dark Elven Neideirra. I can also use a lyre, a Shamisan, and a Viol. I can sing, but I don't like to."

Bardic. Exotic practices. Erotic Appeal?

He hoped not. Barely over five feet in height and thin as a whip, she looked more a child than a buxom. He didn't want to think of her in that situation.

"Spent some time in Calimshan?"

"The Vilhon. Turmish Side."

"Any affiliations? What were you doing there?"

She frowned. Her back went stiff, and she quickly pulled up the sleeve of her right arm, which bore a series of pink scars. Salen quickly approached her, studying her wounds against her protests.

Looking carefully, Traskus saw a pattern under the scars; a tattoo she had tried to obliterate. A series of rings. The Iron Ring; a slaver organization spread through the Dragon Coast, Hillsfar, and the Underdark. Someone in that organization had marked her as cargo. There was another, second mark, but he couldn't begin to identify it. That was the one she had tried the hardest to remove, nearly flensing it away, leaving a puckered scab.

Umm... Political refugee. Forced Labor.

He left out exactly what that labor was. He had a good idea, since many of the denizens of that region were reptilian races and she was clad as she was.

Kaileena shook her head, eyes wide, muttering something as Salen began an incantation for a divine spell, a healing, most likely. About the sight of the wound, a shimmering platinum radiance emanated.

Kaileena shrieked, retreated towards the door. Her body became surrounded by a corona of rippling purple fire, and the priest backed away, agog.

Traskus rose to his feet, ready to shout for the guard, when she held up her hands in surrender, shaking, "No. Not spell. Flesh eat magic. No heal."

She held up her arm, still wounded, as evidence.

"You absorbed his spell?"

"Yes. I don't mean to. It just happens. I've always been able to do that."

"A racial ability, maybe. How odd. The war wizards might want to study that as well."

Slowly, the flames receded, not unlike faerie fire, and they took their seats again.

A little more uneasily, Traskus resumed the interview. Kaileena shivered, and wouldn't meet his eyes. She was still holding her arm, where Salen had touched her. He suspected it was that physical contact, not the use of magic, that had provoked her outburst.

The poor thing...

"Wealth?"

"What I carry. Twenty silver coins and a weathered Sembian Fivestar. I have been forced to spend much of what I had in travel, and I can't dance for coin on a dingy."

"Long term plans?"

"I want to own a home." Kaileena said, "Something small. By the water. I like to make people happy, so I can work in a tavern or inn. I can serve food and drink, and entertain. I used to mix poultices and dyes from milled herbs, so I might subsidize my income with that."

"Would you work at a festhall if money was scarce?"

Her expression closed over again, but not in the way he usually saw among those about to tell a lie. If anything, she looked afraid.

"Not in any instance. Never."

He nodded, pleased, "Good. We hardly need any more of those. Let me review this for a moment."

Frowning, Traskus found himself torn. She was no warrior, which was a good thing. Cormyr allowed many wandering bands of sellswords for periodic duty, but rarely immigrated them unless they were retired battlemasters. A wizard was also highly unlikely to immigrate, but she was a bard and a tradeswoman who knew magic, and not much at that. She was of an exotic species, but tiny and ineffectual, and not possessed of a negative reputation, like Orcs or other less desirable races. She would hardly be able to threaten anyone. Her multiple professions offer her a decent chance of employment, provided anyone would give her the time of day. Cormyr was and is a homogenized society. It's the reason it had hardly changed in over a thousand years.

He hated the tricky ones. All this time he was hoping she would betray something to make it easy for him.

But all in all, she seemed like a good person, if unusual. Another might have denied her out of hand, but he wanted to make Cormyr stronger, not fulfill a quota.

"Alright, Kaileena..." he said, reaching a decision and marking the application accordingly, "It is a difficult choice, but talking to you here, I am willing to give you a chance. I'm sending you to Suzail with a letter of merit and a copy of the documentation here. You will have two months to find steady pay while you bunk at a halfway house. Two meals of bread and porridge will be provided, as well a bed. You will be expected to bathe at least weekly, and required to attend an immigration hearing at an agreed-upon location bi-weekly, until your date of employment and an additional two years besides. Lack of employment, or termination of employment will constitute a probation, and if you remain unemployed for two months after, you will be deported, pending a trial hearing. Do you need clarification on any of this?"

She shook her head.

"Alright. Sign here. Yes, just like that. Welcome to Cormyr."

Chapter 1

Suzail, Cormyr (13th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

"And in this land I'll proudly stand, until my dying day, sir." The lead teamster sang merrily, as their caravan crested a ridge along the beaten path. "For whate'er a king o'er all command, I'll still be a Cormyte brave, sir."

While she still didn't know their tongue well, these lyrics were part of a commonly used ballad that she was familiar with, so it was easier to follow.

The armed guards took up his song, their voices rough but cheerful. She found that she loved these Humans for that; they were brutish but honest, a comfortable and bearable strangeness in the unceasing strangeness that was her life.

Her body started to shake again, and she held very still, waiting for it to pass. It always did, though it felt like there were bugs crawling under her skin for hours after.

Very grateful that the Human had clumsily chosen his words lest she lie and ruin her chances, Kaileena suffered the withdrawal symptoms of the minddust, a very potent narcotic that she had by no means willingly participated in the use of.

Nobody noticed. Everyone else in the caravan tried their best to ignore her, and even if they did notice, it was usually dismissed as an odd attribute. She wasn't Human, after all, and who would know?

But there it was, and even in her state, it held her full attention. It commanded it.

It started to pass, just as she noticed the landscape had changed. How long had she been sitting there, cringing and trying to be silent and still?

The city was within view.

Kaileena stared at Suzail's walls glimpsed many towering spires beyond, overcome by the scale of it. Not even Alaghôn, one of the largest cities of Turmish, had compared to this...

No paltry fortification, Suzail was built to withstand a siege; its high cobblestone walls topped with multiple layers of battlements.

They reached the walls, Eastgate, they called it, one of three means of entry aside from the docks, where guard posts lined either side, constructed of stone and featuring low, pointed rooftops, as not to provide kindling or safe platforms.

Kaileena sighed at her own intimate understanding of Human warfare. Guardian, her familiar spirit, had taught her much of Faerûnian history and culture, the better to adapt to it. And sadly, much of Faerûnian history was defined by conflict.

She decided he must be lonely by now; it had been days since she had last consulted him. She decided to remedy that. Tonight, if possible.

The caravan came to a grinding halt, the thick, heavily furred horses snorting at the abruptness of it, and the lead teamster ended the song to exchange words with two of the six men just before a great oaken portcullis. Below it, there was a deep pit filled with sharpened stakes.

She tried not to look at them, lest she imagine all the times they had been put to use.

After taking several minutes to review their paperwork, one of the guards yelled up at his cohorts along the battlements.

There was a loud cracking sound, and the portcullis lowered to admit them.

It may have looked a fortress on the outside, but inside the city was beautiful, rather than imposing. They entered onto a narrow side-street, which spilled out into an open pavilion rimmed with three-story buildings with shuttered windows of glass. A statue to Oghma, depicting a man hold a scroll in one hand and an astrolabe in another, towered along the right side of the pavilion. Dozens of brightly clad Humans gamboled among the small market stalls, many of them garbed in rich, bright colors, and many more buying and selling all manner of goods. The smell of cinnamon, leather, and faint horse dung filled the air, which felt alive with energy.

Despite the trials she would no doubt face, Kaileena was at ease. He would not find her here. She would be protected.

She was free, at last.

Starry-eyed, Kaileena admired the view of Suzail from her seat, aware but unmindful of the confused stares her presence always provoked.

In the distance, she saw the great castle in which the monarchy dwelled, a second city in and of itself hugging the crown of the city, south and west of them. Surrounding it were many noble manors, great houses surrounded by their own walls, many of them metal gates, and lush gardens.

She might try to be a florist or a groundskeeper here. She had no idea they might put so much stock in such well-maintained botanical menageries.

Tired of sitting in the wagon, Kaileena set herself down, and joined the teamsters as they hauled in a second wagon filled with trade goods. They eyed her sidelong, naked suspicion obvious in their expressions.

"What do you think, Guardian?" She asked, smiling as she strengthened the telepathic link to her familiar spirit, maintained by his power and the proximity to the lamp that housed him, "Should we give our traveling companions a hand?"

Sensing the increasing awareness of her best and most loyal friend, for he was only "awake" when directly connected to her, Guardian projected a begrudging approval.

"If that is your wish, Little Fox. Let it be done."

Placing her hands together, Kaileena began the series of mystic passes that Guardian had taught her, all the while reciting lines of power, gathering the energy stored in her body, and in Guardian's lamp.

The Humans shifted uneasily at her casual use of magic, but not one to be deterred, Kaileena completed her incantation, and focused on three barrels that she knew to be filled with iron scraps; the heaviest of the lot.

The barrels began to shake, then teetered around a central axis, before floating up and then off of the wagon. Seeing where they were unloading the cargo, she set them right by the others outside of a smithy, a good stone throw from the wagon, before turning to the rest and repeating the feat until she nearly exhausted her strength.

Now panting, Kaileena released the flow of magic before she overexerted herself, and fought the resulting wave of fatigue as her body readjusted. No wizard, she relied on Guardian and her body's natural reserves of energy to power her abilities, and often needed food and rest after a particularly strenuous period. Hands on her knees, Kaileena eyed the baffled teamsters, before taking a deep breath and standing up straight.

"Immigrate House." she asked one of the guards in broken common, and the Human nodded, pointing further into the city, "Turn left, east, onto side street, then right, head south, down to Market Hill. Yellow bricks."

"Arigatou gozaimasu." she replied in Nihongo, offering another smile and a respectful bow. Righting her pack, she turned down the street he had indicated, skirting the market stalls. She kept the hood of her cloak down; let them acclimate to her quickly by realizing she had nothing to hide.

Every Human she passed gave her a wide berth. Their stares, so like those she remembered in her youth, left her with a feeling of melancholy.

Her mood souring, Kaileena stopped at a signpost, and struggled to make out their runic alphabet.

"C..." she began, squinting, "O...U..."

She gave up after that. These runic symbols looked blurry to her, difficult to focus on. She missed her homeland's elegant calligraphy.

Nothing for it, she turned right onto the street, nearly bumping into a drunk perched on the street corner. She met his glassy eyes and quickly looked away, lest she betray her awareness...

"Hey, lizard!" the actually quite sober, rag-covered Human snapped, continuing with an unclear but aggressive tirade of curses. She quickened her pace, but otherwise ignored him. To the left there were porter yards, to the right, warehouses. She didn't see any other Humans about.

It became very quiet, very quickly. Pensive.

Another pair of Humans dipped out of adjacent alleyways, and she noticed that there were no guards around.

They intercepted her to block her path.

She looked over her shoulder, and the beggar had also approached, though his eyes were trained behind him, back to the street.

He was the lookout.

"Guardian..." Kaileena whispered, strengthening their connection while reviewing the paltry sum of her energy, still depleted from earlier.

She should not have been so foolish...

"Lizard!" the Human to the right, a bearded behemoth wearing a leather brigandine and marked above his left eyebrow with a deep, puckered scar, repeating the phrase that his fellow had hurled at her.

"Wakari masen." she replied in Nihongo, hands splayed to her sides, "I no understand."

His scowl deepened, "You pay. Everything. Now."

Highwaymen.

He and his fellow palmed small iron blades, weathered and lacking cross guards. They looked like sheets of metal that had been hammered down from a single piece, then wrapped along the "hilt" with strips of cloth. The lack of craftsmanship told her they most likely favored them as disposable, single-use implements.

"Pay..." the large, bearded Human snarled, offering his outstretched hand.

Nodding, Kaileena hid her hands into her cloak, as if to withdraw her coin pouch. They tensed, so she opened her cloak enough so they could see, very slowly, that she was indeed retrieving it.

Most Humans used their right hands. They never paid much attention to another person's left hand, the hand in which she was even then beginning a mystic pass with.

Ambidexterity had to count for something.

Kaileena completed her incantation, and about her body a shimmering hemisphere formed; a magical barrier. The Humans issued no battle cries. They just lunged at her, blades leading.

She rushed forward to meet them, hoping the barrier would hold.

It did.

On impact, rather than merely deflecting their attacks, she willed the barrier to burst apart, propelling them back with a repulsion field. Leaping over their prone, dazed bodies, Kaileena darted forward, further down the oddly empty street.

She was a new immigrant, arrived today. She could not be seen involved in a street brawl.

Kaileena ran as long as she could, without slowing, but sensing that the third Human was nearly upon her, she abruptly changed course, directly towards the nearest, tallest building.

Using her claws, sharp and slightly curving, Kaileena quickly scaled the ridged surface of its wall, undulating her body to resist the normal ebb of gravity. In mere seconds, she had reached a second story balcony, its metal railing offering ample handle holds. A narrow tower loomed to her left, but she ignored it; its walls were too steep to climb. Several paces along the balcony, then leaping off of the railing, she hooked herself about a support column for the building, and hoisted herself up to the shingled rooftop, ignoring the impetuous shouting below.

Trying to keep her balance, she inched forward, and leapt off onto the next building, which was actually a plaza connecting several streets and residences.

Panting, Kaileena nearly doubled over in fatigue, then hissed in surprise as something sailed right past her ear slit and shattered onto the shingles at her feet.

Turning to find an archer fixed on her, she threw herself off of the roof, fell about two stories, and landed in a roll, gasping in pain.

Ignoring her bruised ankles and the throbbing of her wrist, she turned down the next street and into a crowded pavilion.

Several Humans eyed her oddly, but none made a move towards her. None except one...

...

Zolin Naran, Paladin of Illmater and advisor to the guard in Suzail, approached the Lizardfolk woman, hand reflexively on the hilt of his broadsword.

While he didn't feel threatened, it never paid to be careless.

Her violet eyes went wide at his approach, and her peculiar chuffing quieted, a forked pink tongue flickering out experimentally.

"Are you alright?" he asked, alarmed, and she shook her head, "Good. Yes. Exercise."

Still, she looked back the way she came, tail twitching, before she righted herself, legs wobbling, "Market Hill? Immigrate house?"

Nodding, Zolin motioned south and west, more than familiar with the three-story bunkhouse a block or so down but still visible, "Are you a new arrival, then? I know the supervisor, and would be happy to escort you there."

Dimly acknowledging him, the Lizardfolk pulled her cloak tighter, and nodded, following as he led her down the path, away from the crowd. After about ten paces, she stopped panting entirely, though she still looked about ready to collapse. There were puffy, dark red circles under her eyes, too inflamed to be part of her natural coloration, the vibrancy of which made him think she was of a tropical region, though he could hardly guess exactly where. He decided she must have been on the road for a good while.

"What is your name?" he asked, eyeing the Lizardfolk sidelong, opening the connection to his god and casting a minor cantrip that allowed him to intuit another's essential nature.

"Kaileena."

Her soul shone brightly. Scarred by pain, but all the more enduring for it.

He knew they would be fast friends, if he allowed it. How foolish he felt now in even conceiving the notion she could be a threat.

He smiled, "Well met, Kaileena. My name is Zolin, but feel free to call me Zol. Some of the folks around here don't have time for full pronunciations."

"Pronunciation?"

"Umm...how you say things."

"Zol, yes. Thank you."

She noticed the sun amulet handing about his neck, over his tabard, emblazoned with the Purple Dragon crest, "You priest?"

"Yes. I serve Amaunator."

"I not hear of him."

"He is the god of the sun, of time, and of law, not as well known this far north. You are welcome to attend the sermons in the Abbey of the Dawn, near the Citadel south of here, if you want to know more."

"Really?"

"Certainly." Zolin replied, stopping at the doorstep of the bunkhouse, "If you get yourself into trouble, you can look for me there. But...I am sure you will not get into trouble."

He stressed the latter, eyeing her critically, for he was hardly convinced of her earlier explanation.

She nodded sheepishly, "Many gratitude, Zol."

That said, he opened the door, and held it open for her.

The bunkhouse was roughly the dimensions of a lesser manor, the first floor a waiting area and lounge. Lest he was mistaken, it was previously the holiday retreat for a disgraced noble family, evicted of its tenants by the Royal Court, then renovated and repurposed. A small fireplace smoldered at the far wall, with a staircase to the right, and a hallway in the back-left corner. Everything was a muted shade of dull brown or slate grey. It was a drab, if tidy and well-maintained facility, one that the Lizardfolk looked entirely out of place in.

Even during the mid-afternoon hours, some of the tenants were present. There was an elderly man eating his meal, and Half-Elf twins whispering in hushed tones. A man with a darker complexion and slanted eyelids watched them the moment they stepped in. The rest quickly followed suit.

"Maren's office will be in the back, on the first floor." he said, ignoring them, "This way."

Leading her down the hallway beyond the waiting area, he sought out the second door on the right, rapped on it three times, and waited.

"Two minutes."

Zolin nodded, chuckling, "She isn't actually doing anything in there. Just fancies it makes her look more important when she makes people wait."

Kaileena blinked, uncomprehending.

"Never mind." he said idly, leaning back against the wall, "She's an odd one, but nice enough. Follow the rules, and she won't put you on the street or call for the Dragons."

"Yes." Kaileena replied, "She friend?"

"My friend?" Zolin repeated, considering, "Maybe. I don't know. We just work together often, and we get along well enough. Acquaintance sounds better."

"Acq...uain...tance. Mmph. Good, yes."

Silence stretched a few moments, and when it became clear Maren was being quite literal about keeping for two whole minutes, Zolin motioned to her again, "So, what brings you to Suzail?"

"New home."

"Nobody else came with you?"

"No else to come."

"Oh..." he replied, abashed, "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." she said, eyes averted, "It nothing. Long passed. I will live here now."

"Good. I wish you the best of luck. You strike me as good people."

"You too." Kaileena replied, "What priest do here?"

"Think of it like this; I keep everything safe for the merchants and immigrants in the foreign quarter of Suzail." he explained, "The guards can be ill-tempered, the soldiers more so, and otherwise good people can act out when not everyone can speak common and understand the situations at hand. I help everyone get along, when such misunderstandings inevitably occur. It doesn't always work, but it helps to keep the peace."

"Good work. I know man like before."

Despite her ill-phrased comment, she closed up a little. Her eyes lost some of their luster.

It was a hint at what might have brought her here, one that intrigued him greatly.

"About ready, Maren?!" He shouted, though not unkindly, suppressing a chuckle as the door snapped open, admitting a mousey, plump middle aged woman with thin, dexterous hands, mottled brown hair tied in a neat, concise bun, and a pinched face that never knew a smile. Her appraising eyes went a little wide at the sight of her other guest, but the woman was known to quickly take control of a situation.

Her expression again became carefully neutral, "Good day, Zolin. Has this new applicant gotten herself into trouble?"

"Not at all." the paladin replied with a grin, "Just a little lost. I thought I might stick around and help her with translations, if she needs it."

"Melodramatic, as always." she groaned, "Fine. Let's make this quick. Poor thing looks ready to plop over."

Chapter 2

Suzail, Cormyr (14th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

After that unfortunate incident in the alley, Kaileena had been more than happy that Maren had taken stock of her condition, and let her go to bed almost straightaway.

Zolin had said his farewells, and departed. She planned to look for him once she took stock of the foreign quarter as a whole. She was not intent of converting to the local deities, but she was hoping they might be able to help with her...longstanding arrangement.

She cringed in remembrance of her unwilling supplication to Sseth, of the promises He had demanded of her...

After the interview, Maren had asked one of the other tenants to show her the sleeping quarters on the second floor, the women's opposite the men's. He had said something lewd after bringing her to her room, which she had promptly dismissed.

Even with three other women in the room with her, she had fallen fast asleep in moments.

The next morning, she woke, bathed in a small metal tub, and visited the supervisor to complete a second interview, more to reiterate what she had said to Traskus back in Elversult. Even with her limited grasp of the common tongue, it had gone easily enough. She kept her tattoo covered all the while.

After that, she ate a sparse meal in the lounge, before preparing herself mentally for her first day's search for work in the city.

She had two months to find stable income or all of this will have been for naught, and she had to do so without getting into any trouble with the guards.

Asking the others had been of little help; the elderly man had already found work as a cooper and had little to offer, and the twins kept to themselves. The dark-eyed native of Westgate had likewise refused conversation, and she had hardly been willing to pester him. Another man, this one out of the Dalelands, had been amiable enough, but in the same position as her. With Shade encroaching, business had been subdued as of late.

Outside of military applications, of course. From what he had told her, recruitment into the reserve armies was rampant, as was the demand for worked ore and lumber.

She could not seek such work. Aside from being too frail, it was against her wishes to create something that would spread wanton destruction. How many bladesmiths came and went, never knowing what their creations caused when passed from one hand to another over decades, even centuries?

Besides, her outstanding oaths strictly forbade her from handling armor and weapons, and vows made to a god needed to be kept whether she was in Turmish or in Cormyr.

No...she would try the inns and taphouses, then failing to find anything, perhaps she could try to be an alchemist's apprentice, or even a merchant's aid.

That would take more Common than she had, though...

Moving beyond Market Hill, due west, Kaileena poignantly avoided the path she took from Eastgate, asking every Purple Dragon she came across for local taverns.

Most were helpful, if reserved; inns and festhalls dotted the foreign quarter and along the Promenade, a more refined noble territory about the Royal Court and palace. The docks, located along the southern rim of the city, were an option as well, though most would be in...unpleasant locales. She didn't want to deal with the men from yesterday, or others like them, on a regular basis.

And she had been made to understand that Market Hill and the Foreign quarter in general, which made up much of the southeastern part of the city up to the harbor, was probably the safest area outside of the palace, being so close to the Citadel of the Purple Dragons, itself a miniature castle and military fortress. Ironically, it was also the site of the city's prison complex.

Ignoring the festhalls, Kaileena made her list, starting nearby.

The Warm Bed, situated east, was actually the building she had scaled to escape the highwaymen only yesterday, so she ignored it altogether.

Another said she should ask Braundlae at Braundlae's Best, an unorthodox eatery and tavern under the Roving Dragon, which was itself also an eatery, though a more exclusive one.

Due west was the Laughing Lass, a tavern which converted into a festhall during the winter months, to which she also ignored. She needed swift employment, and was not willing to test the flexibility of Human lust.

North and east of that, near the Promenade but not quite enough so, was the Weather Eye, a tavern of ill refute. Known for its brawling adventurers and drunken guards, she would nonetheless give it a shot.

But the Hidden Lady was her first choice; an inn and tavern owned and run by Phocius Green. It was close by.

"Guardian..." Kaileena whispered, a hand on the lamp in her pack, strengthening the constant bond she shared with her familiar spirit, "Can you show me the way? I can't read these signs."

Sensing his response more than actually receiving it, Kaileena let him peruse her knowledge of the places she sought, concentrating on each name and what she knew of the buildings connected to them.

Then, finally, she let him control her body directly, taking possession her limbic system, and as her hands began to form mystic passes, and eldritch words she had neither read nor spoken before spilled unheeded from her lips, she tried to commit them to memory so she could use them on her own.

Guardian terminated the spell in its finishing stages three times, repeating the spell again and again so she could learn, before finally completing the incantation. A portion of her body's vitality drained away, and she wavered on her feet, nearly toppling as Humans roughly pushed through her in the street.

"Good...I have them." Guardian replied, "With the divinations we have cast, I know exactly where each of these landmarks, as well as the Eastgate, Market Hill, the Palace, and the rest, are located relative to your standing position. I will store the knowledge of this city for a later time, should you need it."

Thanking him, Kaileena shivered as Guardian released his hold, and her body was her own again. The experience of sharing her body in this way was...uneasy, but enjoyable. Reminiscent of Hana guiding her hands during their knitting lessons, or when Father had taught her how to till soil, it was something far more intimate than her time spent with nearly any other person in her life.

Emanating her gratitude and affection, Kaileena cast another spell, one that they had shared over a year ago; one that allowed her to become privy to specific information that he possessed.

Holding up the roughly penciled map of Suzail that Maren had given her, Kaileena carefully marked each spot that she knew was a tavern that she wished to visit, as well as any other significant landmarks.

Zolin had said the temple was by the Marina.

Now she knew exactly where to find him, since she found herself wanting to meet again.

But first...

"Right then. The Hidden Lady."

...

Instinctively sensing the approach of dawn, Zolin woke, drank a small pitcher of water, and sat cross-legged in his room in the Abbey of the Dawn. The smell of the Dragonmere seeping in through the shuttered window, he breathed of it deeply, exhaling slowly, before drawing his oilcloth and polishing his armor.

Careful to attend every link of mail, every groove in the thin plates, Zolin set it aside, before doing the same with his sword, honing it with a whetstone, and polishing once more.

With his gear in working order, he did the same with his body, bathing in a shallow tub, before taking a short, flat blade and using it to cut his lengthening, russet-brown hair, before shaving away the stubble on his face, save for his moustache and a thin patch along his chin that he was growing out. As presentable as could be, he shrugged, splashed water on his face, and dried off.

Eying his tunic and breeches, which he had washed late in the evening and set to dry, he studied them for any wet patches, before dressing himself. His golden sun amulet, the symbol of Amaunator, he set over his tunic, but he opted not to wear his armor or arms on this day.

A pair of clogs and a linen cloak would do just fine.

Walking out of his room and then the abbey itself, awake and refreshed, Zolin looked out to his brothers and sisters in faith, already gathering at the pier, the better to watch the sunrise without impediment from the city skyline.

The rolling of the waves, the crying of the gulls... The bells of the harbor, which rang periodically all throughout. He took everything in, not missing a single detail. All about him, the world lived, breathed, and he felt truly a part of it, when all of his worldly concerns melted away and he could simply be.

And in the midst of all of this beauty, this state of pure being, the followers of the dawn even then began to cast aside their priestly garments and gleaming mail, revealing thin shifts underneath, or tunics like his own.

Disrobed, the ranks of the followers indistinguishable, some young, some elderly, some men, some women, they waded into the shallow waters beyond the pier, calling out supplications to the Sun God. They spoke together the words that had become the fulcrum of his life, and he whispered them under his breath;

"Strive always to aid those in need, to foster new hope, new ideas, and prosperity for all Humankind."

"Better yourself, and be fertile in mind and in body. Wherever you go, plant seeds of hope. Only hope can banish despair."

"Consider the consequences of your actions; always temper strength with mercy. Hold onto those of evil heart, who desire and seek higher good of and beyond themselves, and aid them to find such higher good. For as from death comes new life, and there is always another morning, so too can light flourish in even the darkest hearts."

The tenets of Amaunator who was once Lathander. The guiding principle of the abbey, of the faith.

As he did every morning since his eighteenth nameday, Zolin knelt down in the grass, and opted to watch from a distance, well within line of sight. He would not join them, though he unconsciously chanted the words of the supplication, a hand on his holy symbol.

He chuckled; in these few years, his peculiarities had not gone unnoticed. A few of the newer initiates eyed him, confused, before being called back to attention.

Gaining the reputation of a recluse and a voyeur, it had taken a long, long conversation with the Curate for him to explain that this was how he found communion with their god. That this gathering was something he felt he could do more good by observing, rather than participating in. Every person, regardless of their heritage, their station, or their past, remained here because they wholly believed in the lessons of Amaunator, but more so, the goodness of the Human heart, the potential for the proliferation of greater good, by their hand or by the hands of others of like hearts.

He watched, not because he felt as if he didn't belong, that he was someone separate from this oneness of faith and heart...but because he wanted to study this oneness, that he could show others the path. He wanted to learn, so that he could teach others, and he learned best by watching.

As every day, their song grew in intensity as the skies turned a brighter shade of blue at the end of the eastern sky, and the dawn was imminent.

As every day, power flowed from Amaunator and into his body. He became aware of spells that were not his own, but were his to use; powers to cleanse infection and heal the wounded. Spells to calm clouded minds, and sooth aching spirits.

In return, Zolin spoke of his doings, of the goodness he had tried to spread in his god's name. He shared more openly to his god than he had ever done with anyone else in his life, of his accomplishments and his failures, his hopes and his fears. The sadness he had felt in his youth, never knowing his mother or father, once such a part of his life, now all but a distant memory.

This was his family; the curate, his father, the faithful his many siblings.

For a moment, as the sun crested the horizon and the first rays of true light bathed the Dragonmere, turning it scarlet, he felt a brush of the Sun God's hand against his cheek. He heard soft whisper's of the Sun God's voice in the wind, in the joyous exhalations of his peers. For a moment, a brief moment, he felt more connected to Amaunator than at any other point in his day, though that connection, while already growing fainter, was never lost. Never forgotten.

He wept openly, but not with grief.

Armed with spell and with renewed faith, Zolin rose, dried his tears, a new man for a new day, and breathed in air laced with the scent of roses that were not there.

And as their communion ended, so did his.

He could not contain his smile.

...

She hadn't expected success on the first day. It was easy to dismiss her string of refusals, some polite, others...not so much.

The Hidden Lady had sent her away the moment it was clear she wasn't buying anything.

The Roving Dragon had been a dead end; the proprietor outright refused to serve non-Humans, let alone employ them, and the labyrinth below it, which was supposed to lead her to Braundlae's Best, had been too confusing to navigate.

Too dangerous, too. The patrons down there had been...uninviting. She had suffered two withdrawal attacks just by smelling the pipeweed, laced with a hint of mistleaf.

So she had failed to find it, somewhat grateful she hadn't had to smell the tavern's delicacy; live eels in a mint and lime hot sauce. That sounded...just not right.

Guardian agreed on the matter of the eels...based off of what he remembered of the sensation of taste. For the rest, he couldn't say.

With noonsun passed and nothing for it, she would try the Dragon's Last Drink, which she had noticed on the way. While she couldn't read the symbols on the signposts, she knew to recognize the symbol of a tankard of ale...

...

Zolin walked his daily circuit about the Foreign Quarter, stopping at Market Hill in the late afternoon.

Not thus named by mere chance, the large pavilion gently sloped up towards a central point; a hillock that had been discovered after the designs for the city's walls had already been prepared, unless he was mistaken. Nobody had felt like digging it out, so they had just paved over it.

The incline didn't slow anyone down. Really, it was barely noticeable with everything set up like it was.

As was his wont, he studied his surroundings, alert for any trouble. And almost immediately, he noticed a small, blue-skinned figure dart toward him through the market throng.

"Konnichiwa." Kaileena said, smiling wearily as she sidestepped a lump of horse dung the sweepers missed, her footsteps light and agile, stopping in a nonetheless stiff, formal bow, "I was hoping find you. Does you still want talk?"

"Do you still want to talk." he corrected, not unkindly, "Certainly. I know a cheap eatery near here with good quality food. My treat."

She blinked, alarmed, "Oh, I-"

"I insist. You can tell me of your day."

Hesitant, the lass nonetheless let him lead her down the north-facing street, that lest he was mistaken, she had taken from Eastgate to stumble into him.

How time flew.

"You look nice," she said after some time, her back stiff, but her eyes fixed on him curiously.

"Less a shining knight, huh?"

"You still look like knight."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

Kaileena made a show of considering, "You walk openly on streets. You look at ease. I can smell roses on you. I can feel magic about you, though I am un-familiar."

"Unfamiliar. The added emphasis isn't needed."

"Unfamiliar." she corrected herself, "Even if we not met, I would know you priest."

He shrugged, though he wasn't displeased, "Good to know."

"Were you always priest?"

"From birth? No. Outside of the Seven Sisters in the chapbooks, I can't think of a single person that was. I grew up in an orphanage in a hamlet just out of Marsember."

"I sorry."

"Don't be. They were good people. They raised us right. I was quite the troublemaker in my day."

"I not imagine well."

"That's precisely because they raised us right. I took the rites at thirteen, and after five years of study, pledged myself formally as a priest of Amaunator. That's when the martial training started, and I ended up here, somewhere between a street preacher and a Purple Dragon. Funny how things work out."

"Funny, yes...I not know birth parents either."

"It isn't easy."

"No, I...wait, where we go?"

"I was thinking the Hidden Lady."

"I...rather not. They no want around."

"Oh..." Zolin said, watching her draw inward and finding himself disappointed with Phocius. The man had struck him as more understanding than that.

"We will see about that."

...

When they crossed a street, heading west towards the eatery, Kaileena tried to humor her new friend by speaking of her time in Suzail. She tried to leave out the worst of it; the attempted mugging, and both Phocius and the proprietor of the Weather Eye sending her away with nary a word spoken.

At least Phocius had been polite. She had needed to dodge a hurled ale from one of the patrons in the Weather Eye, and outrun the storm of laughter that had followed. It had taken almost an hour for her to collect herself afterward.

He listened, occasionally correcting her broken common, but little else. It didn't feel like he was investigating her, and she found it easy to talk to him openly.

"I have keep out of trouble." she finished, "I thank you again for show me bunkhouse."

"Not at all. It is my pleasure to help a new citizen."

"I am not citizen yet."

"You will be. I have no doubt."

Nodding, Kaileena cringed as they reached the eatery and went through its double-doors.

Like she remembered, The Hidden Lady was gently lit, illuminated by waxed paper lanterns. The cushioned booths, suffocating incense, and hushed tones gave it a secretive, meditative atmosphere.

Quickly broken by the flurry of whispers trailing in their wake when they chose a seat, and the proprietor walked over to them.

Phocuis Green looked like a friendly man under other circumstances; the wrinkles on his face were those of one who had led a weary but satisfied life up until the present. His garb; drab brown linen, was nonetheless finely tailored, a trim of green along the collar and the hems of his sleeves to match his eyes. His face was cleanly shaven, and his hair was tied in a knotted tail.

But he didn't look friendly as his eyes studied her. He wasn't smiling.

"I told you to stay out, outlander..."

"Ease, Phocius." Zolin said calmly, "She is a friend, and with me. We're only here for supper."

He hadn't noticed the paladin. His lips pursed, "I keep a certain atmosphere here, my friend. Now all I will be hearing about for the rest of the day is you two."

"It can't be helped, since we're already here. You might as well serve us, that we might be on our way."

Phocius sighed, "Alright...what can I get you?"

"Whatever the special was today." Zolin replied, "Roasted beef, right? I'll have a few slices of that, a half-loaf of potato bread, and some butter, please. A small cup of ale."

"And you, miss?"

She tried not to wilt under that stare, "Does you have unfertilized eggs?"

"Huh?"

"Without rooster."

"Yeah, most of the farms in the city don't need one. We keep them penned with a harem of hens specifically for making chicks."

"I will take two. Boiled. And nuts and seeds. It not matter what kind. Maybe a half-bowl full. And some soy tea, if you have it."

"What?"

"You make with dried soybean grind into water and little sugar. It makes milk with lots of protein. Almonds also work."

"I'll see what I can do."

He turned away, muttering under his breath. Knowing it was too quiet for Humans to detect, Kaileena nonetheless distinctly heard, "Eats like a damned Elf..."

"Odd staple." Zolin noted, sitting back with a relieved sigh, his back popping against the booth, "Is that how they eat in...Teikoku, was it?"

"Yes, and no. We ate lots of fish, sweet potato, and rice. Rich eat beef."

"A habit you took up here, then?"

"Yes." Kaileena replied, "I am...carnivore, yes? Meat-eater? But I make myself not eat animals."

The eyes that had been upon them since entering were no longer watching. The conversations resumed their normal volumes. Couples and groups chatted idly of the day's rumors and events, from what she could understand. Once they figured out that she wasn't going to lunge forward and eat somebody, they lost interest.

"Anyway, so why no meat? Do you worship Chauntea?"

"No. It just against my nature. My...philosphy?"

"Philosophy."

"Yes, Philosophy. I try make up for my nature."

"What do you mean?"

She breathed deeply, uncomfortable, "I not know what this make me here, but I done something unforgivable. In my homeland."

His expression became hard to read, so she continued quickly, "I trust you, Zol. Only reason I say... It...it was not because anything I did...but just by living. By being around my family, I hurt them. I make others hurt them. I never forgive myself, so I leave. I leave family, home. I leave everything."

"The fox becomes a moth..." Guardian warned, "Drawn to the flame."

"I don't understand."

"Something in my life. I not know how say in this tongue. Zol, I come to realize that life is evil. Just by living, we hurt others without realize it. Every life we touch, we risk hurt, knowing or not. My life hurt other life, so I know not to hurt other life if I help it. So no meat. So no home."

He studied her, and the compassion in his bright, emerald eyes nearly made her weep. What was this man?

"I would like to hear this story. Why you feel this way."

"I not want speak of. "

"Please, you can tell me..."

Kaileena pursed her lips, hissing quietly, "Very well, Zol. I will say as good as I can. My use of Common not perfect yet..."

It took a long time for her to start, "I was born nineteen year ago, almost twenty, in Teikoku, in Central District. Forest east of village. My...Father, found me there, after wild hunt. Someone he hear die. Maybe my mother. I don't...I don't remember much of first years. Lots of climbing. Sitting on his lap by fireplace. Godmother Hana came sometimes."

"But...I...I remember this."

...

Uktar, 1473 Dalereckoning

The white snowflakes fell down from a cloudy sky, difficult to see against the grey.

Kaileena winced as a few landed on her face, because they were very cold, and after a moment or two, if she didn't brush them away, they turned into water, which dripped down her snout and made her want to sneeze.

"Come here, my dear. You won't have long to try the hot springs if you stand around…" Shinabi, her father, chided behind her, and she jumped reflexively. She had been thinking that while each flake of snow was a different shape; she could see if she looked hard enough, when they melted, they became water drops that all looked the same.

It seemed important, somehow.

"Okay!" Kaileena replied cheerfully, shrugging away the mysteries of snowflakes and running over to the pool of water that shot out steam like the stove at home. She took off most of her clothes (while Father and Brother had their backs turned, of course), and dived into the water. She threw herself back up, her head breaking through, and spat out a mouthful of yucky hot water.

"That's what you get for coming in so quickly." Father scolded, but he was smiling, so he wasn't really mad. The pool was big, and Father and Brother were a ways away, so Kaileena swam around for a while, her head feeling a little fuzzy from the warmth. She used her tail to swim faster, and something dawned on her.

"Father…" she asked, distracted by the strands of steam that came off her arm when she brought it above the water, "Why do I have a tail and you don't?"

He looked at her strangely, frowning.

"You are different...but that's alright. That just means you're special".

This was true. She was different…in a lot of ways. Now almost to her seventh nameday, she was noticing the differences between her and the rest of her family more and more. The tail was one thing, her blue skin was another, and another still was her "hair". The tiny fuzzy stalks on the top of her head were growing, turning thick and wide. Father thought they looked like baby bird feathers…was she going to have feathers on her head?

Still, special sounded nice, so Kaileena kept swimming, determined not to think about it. She teased her brother Gatsuyu, who was a year older than her, by splashing water at him. He acted like he was mad by splashing water back, but he was smiling too.

"You are almost seven seasons old, Kaileena. Some manners shouldn't be too hard for you…" Father jested, calmly sitting in the water. Kaileena shrugged, and tried to just sit too, but she was having too much fun, so she kept splashing water.

Father smiled, and started to climb out, and she and Brother turned away. Kaileena turned away mostly, but still saw him get out, and she noticed that he did have a tail, but it was just on the wrong side!

Brother waited for him to leave, and swam over, whispering in hushed tones, "You know, Father is going to take us to the village soon. What do you think is there?"

"Well, he said they had lots of houses, and one really big house where everyone goes sometimes. Do you think the food is bigger, too?"

Brother laughed, "No, I meant there will be other kids to play with, too. Do you think they will want to play hide-and-hunt?" to which Kaileena couldn't say. Maybe they would…

"Maybe there will be flowers too. There are not many here." Kaileena added, Brother's enthusiasm rubbing off on her. She had found a nice blue flower once, but it got dried up. Father said she should have put it in a pot, and she still wanted to find another like it and keep it forever.

"You like flowers too much, sister. Maybe they will have rocks instead".

"You meanie! You have plenty of rocks, and I don't have any flowers." Kaileena huffed, crossing her arms.

"Let's go see where Father went." Brother replied, dodging her words and running off to get his clothes. She sighed, and got out too, picking up her weathered brown kimono. It was hard to stay mad at him. She was going to get to see Kazeatari Inaka soon, and maybe it would be fun…"

...

"Stop fussing over it!" her godmother Hana chided, a few weeks later, idly pushing her hands away from the uncomfortable cloak that Father had asked her to wear over her kimono.

Kaileena huffed, but didn't struggle any further.

"It makes my head itch." She complained, forcing herself not to absently scratch at her feather-stalks, which had started growing again over the last few nights.

"Are we going to the village now?"

"Soon. Soon, child, hush now." Hana chuckled, straightening herself up as well.

Still, Kaileena could not lie by saying that she was not excited about this day, getting to see Kazeatari Inaka for the first time. Hana, her and Gatsuyu's nurse and godmother, was from there, and had only come every now and then recently.

Maybe there was going to be a party there, and she was planning it! Father counted time by the months, twelve per year, and this was the month that Kaileena's name-day was celebrated on. Father never said why it was this month, but Kaileena didn't complain, and always loved the mitarashi dango that he made with rice and red bean paste…

Seeing Father and Brother walk out of the hut, Kaileena tried to wait patiently for them, hardly able to stand still. Her tail flicked here and there under the cloak.

"Is everyone ready then." Father asked, to which both she and Brother nodded, "Good. Now, I had better not see either of you running out of my sight".

"Yes, Father." Both she and Brother replied dutifully, and he patted them on their heads affectionately.

Kaileena sniffed as her feather-hair itched again, her forked tongue rubbing against the roof of her mouth.

Now that everyone was ready, they began the long walk to Kazeatari Inaka, following a dirt path through the winding woods around the cabin that was their home and into the deeper woods they could not go into normally.

OH! She had to stop by a florist! Father had given her a few copper coins to buy something with, and that should be enough to get a nice potted plant, maybe even a flower like the blue one she had found once.

"Father, what does the village look like?"

Father smiled, itching at the streak of grey in his hair, "It is a very big place compared to our home, filled with many people; traders, farmers, and hunters. There is an inn for outsiders, and an embassy where the government officials reside. There is always a bustling trade, even if the attitude is a very relaxed one. You will like it, I think".

"If it is so nice, and we live so close, why have we not gone there before?" Brother asked, looking down at the ground, probably for interesting rocks to add to his collection.

"Well…I wasn't sure how friendly they would be to us. Kaileena...Do you remember when I said you were special?" to which she turned back to look at him.

"Yes, Father?"

"You are…very special…and some people might be frightened by that."

"They think I'm scary? Why?"

Hana took hold of her and embraced her, "Because they don't know you, and they don't know better, child, do not worry".

"Okay. I'll try not to be scary then, just in case."

With that said, they were off again. She was not scary…

They would see that, and everything would be fine.

...

"Remember what I said, you two…" Shinabi said as they crossed the road into Kazeatari Inaka proper. Kaileena gaped at all of the people; dozens, no, maybe a hundred milled about the packed streets. Voices filled the air, as did their scents. All of them looked like brother, father, or Hana though.

She paused, searching for anyone like her, to no avail.

Father kept them close, his hand tight about her shoulders, and none turned an eye to their approach.

They passed down a crowded dirt street, neatly lined on either side by stalls run by the people Father had called Chonin; the merchant class which moved and distributed things from all over Teikoku. Spices, exotic foods and teas, even a few bows were on display, but the lower classes were forbidden to carry true weapons. They all knew that.

"Can we see a florist, Father…?" Kaileena nudged him, pointing to a stall selling plants and flowers.

"In the evening, I will let you pick out whatever you like, my dear. But hush now and keep to yourself, we are nearly there".

"But they might sell all the good flowers by then." Kaileena protested, brushing his side with a huff, and the florist sensed that she was being observed, and turned their way.

His grip on her shoulder became painful.

"Sir, do you wish to see some of my fine wares?!" the woman shouted, but Father waved her off, "Later, I will take a look, but business presses".

After they passed into the residential district Father seemed to calm down. His grip loosened. Kaileena groaned discontentedly, and Gatsuyu seemed equally tense and confused by the way they had practically run from the market.

"There now, here we are." Shinabi said, noting a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac, "I have a friend here that will meet me for some business, and you two can see the school they have in the village, where you will return to in a few months".

Kaileena didn't know what a school was, but if it meant they would definitely return to the village...

When they reached a large, one story building, longer than the others, Father knelt down beside them.

"Now Gatsuyu, Hana will be with you both for a while, but I trust you to protect your little sister. Can you do that for me?" Father asked, clutching his boy's shoulders.

"I will, Father." Gatsuyu replied without hesitation, and he released his hold and playfully ground his palm into Brother's hair, "Good boy. Hana, I will be off".

As Father left, Hana looked to her and Brother, her face hard to read, then led them to the large house. Up close, Kaileena noticed it had windows, but she couldn't see inside.

When they walked in through the sliding door, there was a long hallway, and another door at the end. There was a series of shelves to put cloaks and packs in, a hanger for heavier coats, and four sitting cushions.

She heard voices on the other side.

"The Waiting room. Good. Now then, I have already informed the schoolmistress of your arrival. Go in and meet the other children".

So there were going to be other children?

Waving her goodbyes, Hana remained behind, sitting at one of the four cushions, and Kaileena followed Brother to the end of the hall, finally able to take off the hood of her cloak, when another woman walked up to them from the room behind the door, garbed in a layered kimono that was much nicer than hers.

She wasn't sure, but Kaileena thought the woman was looking at her funny…

"Greetings, I am Umeka, mistress of the Kazeatari Inaka School. Class is not in session, but the children often come here during break, and there are several currently in attendance." Umeka said, offering a slight bow, which she and Brother returned, remembering a lesson Father had taught beforehand about talking in public.

"Hello, I am Kaileena." she replied. Brother said his own greeting, and the woman was still looking at her funny… Her eyes were larger than they were before…and Kaileena almost thought that she seemed scared of something.

"Right then…you may enter the door behind me, and come next fall, you will both be admitted and boarded as students".

Brother walked in first, and Kaileena tried not to shove him to make him go faster. Even though Father would not let her see the village, she was about to meet other children than Brother!

As she got past him, she looked around the room, which was mostly empty; there were a bunch of cushions on the floor, one much bigger than the rest, and there was a shelf full of old books on the far away wall. Sheets of paper were tacked to the other three walls, painted with odd, flowing script. Some were marked with only a single, large, elegant symbol, and others were neatly arranged columns and rows of more basic symbols.

There were four children, very loud, playing and talking, and they started to look her way, and then the room got very quiet.

They were all looking at her…

Kaileena tried to smile, but she was suddenly too nervous. Her tailed lashed against the hem of her kimono.

"What is that?"

"I am Kaileena." She replied, shaking away her feeling, and the room was quiet again, as if they hadn't expected her to speak.

"I am Gatsuyu." Brother said, "And she is my sister". The others got less quiet, and walked towards her, slowly at first.

"Why does she look like that?" the same one asked, starting to move his hand to touch her, and Brother pushed him away.

Kaileena touched her head, and the fuzzy stalks felt different, like they had spread out since she had put the cloak on. So she did have feathers, and not hair!

A great deal of time passed, but they stopped staring.

Kaileena guessed they stopped being so interested.

"I am Chion…" the only one who had thus far spoken replied, brushing a lock of hair under the knitted cap he was wearing, "I guess you both are fine to stay around. My friends here are Hatsuto, Gin, and Nagomi."

He motioned to the other three; a smaller boy with a ragged vest and matted black hair, a short haired boy who was the only one still sitting cross-legged on a cushion, and a girl with a small button nose and brown hair, who was staring like Umeka had.

"Anyway, you two live away from here?" he said, not offering a bow, the rude gesture implying authority.

"We live in a cabin to the north and west." Kaileena said meekly, still mussing her hair-feathers, "This is our first time here".

"Good. Fine. You two are going to be great in here, even you, Kaileena. Just do not get any funny ideas. Or bite me. Those teeth look sharp".

They did? Was that why everyone kept looking at her oddly?

After a while, the others started to talk, and then they invited her and Brother to play tag.

Glad to be done with this strangeness, they happily accepted.

She was tagged by Gin, and she giggled, chasing after Brother and cursing her choice of footwear.

When she knew she would not catch him, Kaileena sat down and started to pull off her sandals, untying the lace that wrapped around her ankle. With them gone, she started to dash, and she started getting close to tagging him. While the others ran and laughed, shouting, Kaileena leapt, and tagged Brother across the back before she hit the ground, still giggling. Nagomi was more clever, standing around Chion, using his shadow like a hiding spot. Brother growled, but turned and ran towards Chion, who darted away, sidestepping him, with Nagomi hidden behind him.

Brother chased him some more, but then changed his focus to Gin as he neared, and managed to tag him.

"No fair!" Gin moaned, looking at Brother while turning to chase her, "You waited until I wasn't looking".

Kaileena ran from Gin as fast as she could, laughing all the way, replying, "Is there a better time?"

Kaileena went with the others as they retreated. Gin ran for her first, thinking to catch her off guard, but she was not fooled, and ran faster, even circling around Nagomi, hoping he would chase her instead. While she was looking at Gin, Nagomi got in her way, and stopped her long enough for Gin to tag her. Kaileena huffed, but knew that Nagomi made a mistake getting so close to her…

Before she could run away, Kaileena pounced, and tagged her right back for tricking her.

"Too fast…" Nagomi groaned under her, and they both laughed.

"GET OFF OF HER!"

Suddenly a big man was rushing at her, a wild, repulsed look on his face, and Kaileena jumped, startled, and the man nearly threw her as he pushed her away, picking up Nagomi with a scowl.

"YOU, NEVER TOUCH HER AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME!" he screamed, motioning to hit her, and Kaileena backed up against the wall, her heart in her throat.

"UMEKA!" he yelled, and the School Mistress bolted in, her eyes wide. "What is this…this thing doing with our children?"

Brother got between him and her, recovering quickly from the shock. His hands were balled into fists.

"What that thing is, is a child, and this is a school." Umeka replied, "Please, calm down, Sir Teru".

"I am plenty calm!" the man called Teru said, "I had better not see that creature near my daughter again, or I am going to wring its filthy little neck".

"You will not touch her!" Brother growled, puffing up his shoulders.

"You little…-"

"That is enough Teru, leave, or I will call the soldiers…"

"You go ahead, they will probably haul that thing away, and you too for keeping it here." Teru growled, stomping out with a crying Nagomi over his shoulder. He slammed the sliding door so hard that it came loose on its hinges, and tumbled down. She could hear his footsteps for many paces.

Kaileena slid down to curl up, all the tension flowing out now that the man was gone. Brother fell down next to her, and none of the other kids said anything.

Kaileena started crying, so much that her whole body was shaking.

She saw Umeka coming over through the blurriness, not looking like she was scared of her anymore. "That man will set the whole village into a ruckus…I think I can work around that, though." She said grimly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I think I can set separated days for you two when you come in the Fall. You will not have to see Teru again".

"Or any of them again…" Brother said angrily, meaning the others, and Umeka nodded, just a little.

Hana came in the room, saw her crying, and ran over, "What happened?" she gasped, and all the people crowding around her was making Kaileena feel dizzy. She wanted to lay down, so everything would stop spinning.

"Everything is alright; she just had a little scare. Come Fall, I will see these two for class two days alternating every other week, until the coming of spring." Umeka replied, "If the weather prohibits travel, they can bunk here, and they will be safe. I swear by my family's honor. You should take them home, now".

Hana nodded, and scooped her up in her arms, "Come, Gatsuyu, it is time to go".

Hana righted her kimono, but didn't make her don the cloak. She made Gatsuyu grab it on the way out.

"Everything is going to be alright. Look, we are going to see Father."

As they walked out of the school house, there were men and women of the village that must have heard all that shouting.

Hana held her even closer, so all she could see was her face. After a few minutes, she smelled Father in the air. Hana lightly rocked her to get her attention as he approached.

His expression became hard to read as she looked over to him.

"Here, I...got this for you today…" he said sadly, offering a potted blue flower…

...

By the time she finished, the meal had come. Phocius left a little slip of parchment, probably what they needed to pay.

Neither of them paid it, or the meal, any heed.

"How awful." Zolin said grimly, appraising her, "You were just a child."

"I think those children forget about me. About my brother. But I never forget them, for this was one moment in my life that I feel normal among Humans apart from my family." Kaileena replied, downcast, "But I am grateful I could experience what I did. I treasured those brief moments."

"It only get worse. As I grew, we were keep out of village. Father not trade as well. We live off what we made our-self. They hate us, because they hate me. They fear us, because they fear me. Father take me in when he have nothing, not owe me anything. I never repay him for his kindness."

"You were his daughter."

"Yes, I was. And he was my father, my family. Him and Brother and Hana. But they suffer for me. I didn't want it. So I leave. I acknowledge my life as evil, in evil it brings whether I want or not. That is what I believe. That is why I seek new home, where my life not hurt others. I want alone."

"Wanted." she added, "I not know anymore."

She started. Zolin wasn't leaning back anymore. He was leaning forward, and his hands were atop hers, "No life is evil, Kaileena, especially not yours. This guilt is not yours to carry. I promise you, that I will do everything I can to make sure that you never feel this way again."

Panic, the very panic she felt every time a man lay hands on her, threatened, but she fought it. He meant her well.

For a moment, their proximity became uncomfortably intimate. She became very aware of his scent, the warmth of his hands.

"You are good man." Kaileena said, as gently as she could, taking her hands back, "I am sorry I speak of these things. You invite me to share this meal and I-"

"I never want you to apologize to me again for speaking your mind, Kaileena." Zolin interrupted, "I asked why you didn't eat meat, and you told me, even though you didn't want to. I have a good idea now, and I have a good idea that this is still a very tender subject for you. I didn't mean to press you into talking about it."

"No, I..." She paused, shrugging, "Alright. We leave be for now. Thank you for listen, Zol."

"Always. now then...I know I smell garlic in this. Phocius must have hidden a few lumps of it in the meat, and I must confess, it has me watering in the mouth..."

Nodding, she let him eat for a time, before he grew curious again. She had nearly finished her boiled eggs.

"So how did you make the journey all the way here?"

"What you mean?"

"It's a dangerous path for anyone."

"I had help. Magic."

"You are a wizard?"

"No. Man I apply to say Warlock."

He paused, "A warlock? You cavort with demons?"

"Why they assume that?" Kaileena asked, throwing up her hands, "No. Familiar spirit. His name Guardian, and he live in a lamp."

"Oh..." he replied, "What kind of a spirit is he?"

"You can talk with him. Find out."

"Umm...maybe another time. So he teaches you spells?"

"Yes. Sometimes, he acts through me. I draw from his power."

"It sounds almost like clerical magic."

"Maybe. I know little of such things. What you want do now?"

"I should get back to my duties. Try along the Promenade, if your still up for it. You might find a good place willing to hire."

Chapter 3

Suzail, Cormyr (26th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

The days became a routine. After waking, bathing, and breaking fast, she would meet Zolin outside, and they would talk for a while and luncheon either in the Hidden Lady or a taphouse that didn't shoo them off. When noonsun came, she bade him farewell, and searched for work. After dusk, she quickly retraced her steps back to the bunkhouse for supper, and promptly went to sleep.

With her options expended in the Foreign quarter, Kaileena had indeed decided to try further north along the Promenade, the semi-circular street that split the Royal Court and palace from the rest of the city, and also served as a marshalling point for the Purple Dragons should the city come under siege. Being the most heavily trafficked, the establishments here would be finer, but also more difficult for an outlander to find work.

Now that she had spent a few weeks living in one place, conversing with the same people, especially Zolin, her grasp of the common tongue grew more complete, more confident. She could understand just about anything if they spoke slowly, though her expanded vocabulary was dismal at best.

She found her friend in the usual spot, right on the corner outside the bunkhouse. He was wearing his armor today. It looked freshly polished, though he had thrown his weathered cloak over it.

"Ohayō, Zolin-San."

"And well met to you, Kaileena."

Sharing a bow, for he had accustomed himself to her greeting being accompanied by a short, informal bow, as was etiquette in Teikoku, she talked to him about her continued attempts for work as they gradually made their way towards the docks. Nearly every tavern, inn, and taphouse was accounted for, and she had even tried the local apothecaries, the resident wizards, and the Citadel.

One never knew if they needed a receptionist or a scullery or something.

"Maybe you should try the noble manors." He added, as they stopped by the Abbey at his insistence, "A few of them might want someone...exotic, in their house. I'm sure they pay well."

"I suppose."

Along the pier, Kaileena leaned against the railing, eyes upward. The sky was overcast today. There would probably be rain.

"I don't think I will look today." she said, forked tongue tasting the air for ozone, "Maybe I should head back before the weather breaks."

"Nonsense." Zolin replied, "You can stay for the afternoon service. The curate usually does something special on a day like this. It's something to behold."

"Are you sure I am...welcome?"

He eyed her, appalled, "Any goodly being is welcome there. These are good men and women. The light is in them. Come, come, my friend."

Knowing he might very well drag her in there, so great was his elation, she complied, turning away from the churning sea and the lighthouse to the west.

When she stepped into the abbey, an unassuming complex of granite and sandstone, she blinked, adjusting to the change in light.

It wasn't darker, like the interior should have been. It was actually much brighter. And warmer.

She carefully tread over the floor, made of small tiles forming a mosaic of a sunburst about a clear sky. The walls, painted motifs, depicted images of Amaunator, the sun, and the desert. The windows, few that there were, were shades of bright red, orange, and yellow, lit by torches that burned pure white.

"One of the first curates was an alchemist." he explained, motioning to the torches, "He concocted something one night with phosphorous that burned more brightly than any flame, and, convinced it was a sign from the Sun God, he infused a rag cloth and made a torch with it. The flames burn hot, so the shafts need to be metal rather than wood, but it takes several days for them to burn out."

"Interesting. Would I be able to get the recipe?"

"It's a closely guarded secret. Sorry."

"No, that's alright. I was just curious."

They passed others on their way to what Zolin called the "Antechamber", where most of the residents did worship when indoors. Everyone eyed her, but not nearly as critically as she had become accustomed.

"Afternoon, uninitiated." A middle-aged man in priestly robes said as he passed them, carrying a bundle of clothing.

"That was Carn, the underpriest, under the Curate of this chapter." Zolin explained, "When Amran goes to Amaunator, he will lead the abbey, and select an apprentice to become the new underpriest."

Nodding, Kaileena was ushered into the next room, in which there were dozens of people seated in wooden pews. A length of red carpet wide enough to admit two Humans shoulder-to-shoulder separated the aisles of pews.

"There are many people here."

"Warriors of faith, priests, ley-worshippers, and weary travelers."

A square-shaped pool of water laden with mineral odor emanated a soft, rosy glow. Flowers floated on its surface. A single, massive window of red glass behind and above it provided illumination, inside of which was a white rose surrounded by a corona of sunlight.

From the walls there hung many layered tapestries, depicting the birth of Amaunator among ancient Netheril. Having studied Shade as a viable threat to her future homeland, Kaileena knew to identify floating inverted pyramids, and they were distinctly represented.

It showed Amaunator as a just, but cruel god, his weapon the scales of law, his shield an iron gauntlet. It showed Amaunator striking down the guilty, who cowered in supplication.

Near the first fold in the material, it showed Amaunator receding from the world, as the pyramids plummeted from the sky. And for a time, there was darkness. Evil flourished.

But then a rose sprouted from a mound of soil amid this darkness, surrounded by a halo of light. As it grew into a thick bush, a man in silver armor plucked a rose, and wore it about his neck like a talisman.

"That is Lathander." Zolin noted quietly, following her eyes, "The Morninglord."

In the next scene his sword plunged into the breast of a skeletal being with a dark staff, leering dragons of many chromatic colors trailing in his wake.

"Sammaster and the Cult of the Dragon."

And then, a new darkness spread from the dark corners; a circle of black, surrounded by a dark purple.

It looked like an eye. She knew it to be a symbol of risen Netheril, which was also Shade.

Hurling himself into the eye, Lathander vanished, and all was darkness once more. Only his rose remained, fallen to the ground, many of its petals separated.

But about this darkness, fire emerged. A familiar face returned. Amaunator, his eyes downcast, upon Lathander's rose, wept.

But in the final length of the tapestry, his eyes were uplifted towards the source of the darkness, and in his hand was Lathander's rose, rather than his own scale of justice. His first of iron had become a gleaming buckler. The last image of the god showed him on his feet, brandishing the rose as a sword, and in place of the eye was the risen sun, casting the previously shadowed corners in bright red.

"It is a history." Kaileena observed, "Of Amaunator's birth, fall, and return. The Risen Sun Prophecy."

"Very good." Zolin applauded, leading her to one of the pews near the front, "Take a seat. Visitors always sit in the front. I will be among the faithful near the back."

"What? Why?"

"We already know well the teachings of the Sun God. It is our duty to educate, and we feel that the best way to learn is to be the closest to the Curate as he delivers his sermons."

As he went to his seat near the back, Kaileena eyed the Humans in the pew. A young woman in linen garb. A small family, including an elderly man and woman. A sellsword with a weary expression, his face sprouting a few days growth of beard. All of them stared as she inched into the seat, a good three paces from anyone. It took a few seconds for her to find a comfortable position. With no opening in the back for her tail to slip through, she ended up leaning to the right, her tail resting in her lap. Her feet just barely touched the floor.

As the time passed, dozens more filed in. When the other pews became full, two more Humans begrudgingly sat at the other side of her, and as several more arrived, Kaileena had to inch closer and closer towards the family.

The first in line, a young boy, eyes wide and curious, smiled and waved at her, but he was pulled away by the older male, his father, likely, who exchanged seats with him, glaring at her all the while.

Her eyes found her lap, her tail lashing back and forth.

The pew quickly became uncomfortable. She had to shift position more than once, before a man robed in crimson and white entered through a passageway opposite and knelt before the pool of water, facing them.

He was about a little older than the man who had passed them in the hall, well into his sixties. His face, weathered and tanned, belonged to a person who had lived on a farm, not an abbey. A part of him, his easy, natural smile, maybe, reminded of her father. His eyes, a gentle blue of a clear sky, met hers, and the smile didn't waver. But she saw in them such a depth of compassion, of empathy, than it nearly broke her. It was as if he were staring into her very soul, privy to every ounce of pain she had ever endured.

But after a moment, he looked away, and the feeling passed. He seemed to be meeting eyes with several others in the room, for his gaze lingered several times, as it did with her.

"Welcome, hallowed of Amaunator, and our honored guests." he said in a smooth, honeyed voice, "To those present who have not worshiped among us before, I am Amran, Curate of this Abbey and Voice of the Sun God. One of many. We, followers of the sun, one and all, bid you good greeting."

"You may give tribute to another god, or many gods, or no gods. Regardless, I count you among us, friends of like minds, and so, let me speak for a time, of the words of Holy Amaunator, whose light guides us even in our darkest hours. As our god before us, strive always to aid those in need, to foster new hope, new ideas, and prosperity for all Humankind." he continued, hands to his sides, "It is Amaunator's desire that all those of goodly nature, be them man, elf, or...others..."

A few eyes found her again.

"...break bread in peace and find their uniting principles. For a soul shines brightly in any vessel that embodies or desires goodness. Cherish the cardinal virtues; empathy, kindness, and charity. Better yourself, and be fertile in mind and in body. Wherever you go, plant seeds of hope. Only hope can banish despair."

"And these are grim times indeed." he admitted, a hand to his chest, "Filled with fear. Risen Netheril, Shar's faithful, envision a world, our world, as a tumult of darkness, beget onto nothingness. They fight for death. Their death, and the death of all that is. Weep for those corrupted by Shar's envisioned end, but fight them regardless. By blade or by goodly deed, defy Lady Loss by cherishing your life, all life, and endeavor to bring light into the darkest places. Dawn banishes dusk, and life begins anew, even in death. No grief will lay us low, for we stand in the light."

Their eyes were on him now. His were on the sellsword.

"And to those who do lift sword and spear for the betterment of this kingdom or for the betterment of one's station, I say this; Consider the consequences of your actions; always temper strength with mercy. Hold onto those of evil heart, who desire and seek higher good of and beyond themselves, and aid them to find such higher good. For as from death comes new life, and there is always another morning, so too can light flourish in even the darkest hearts."

The man, stricken, nodded, head bowing low.

"Be you of our god, any god, or no god, we find common ground. I count all of you as I would my faithful, for the light is in you. Please, come to me, speak with me. I would know all present in the flesh as I do now in spirit."

On cue, a member of the audience was ushered forward to seat before the Curate. They spoke in hushed whispers, before the curate nodded, rose, and embraced him, planting a kiss on each cheek, and the man was led back to his seat. One at a time, in orderly manner, the entire pew emptied, then the next.

And then it was her turn.

She walked down the aisle to him in a state akin to a daze. Her head felt light, but her feet felt like they were weighted with lead. But his eyes studied her, without judgment, emanating unconditional love.

And concern. Somehow, Kaileena knew that he knew...

He knew everything. She shouldn't have come here.

Her body shook as she knelt, and he put his hands in hers.

"Welcome, child. What is your name?"

"Kaileena."

"A beautiful name, for a beautiful woman."

"Most don't think so."

His expression didn't change, "They who cannot see, are blinded by their mistrust and confusion. But what is, is."

She couldn't bear his scrutiny. Her eyes averted.

"You carry a great pain. A burden that is not your own."

Unwittingly, her hand went to her arm. To her brand, which was hidden by her sleeve.

"What I experienced was my own."

"Perhaps." he conceded, "But what happened does not diminish your value. Nor does it assign value to Him. He has no power over you, save that to which you assign."

No.

"Little Fox..." Guardian whispered.

No. No. No.

"You know nothing of this." Kaileena spat, shaking as her world became awash with her memories of Turmish. Of Skullport. Of Him, "What he did to me. What he made me do."

The others in the room exchanged nervous glances at her outburst. Her gaze was only for him.

"Vows made without consent are no vows at all. No goodly god would honor them, nor penalize you for them."

Her knew nothing. Nothing.

"Then why is Sseth still my patron?" Kaileena asked, too far gone to relent, "Why do I still feel his influence?"

"The fox becomes a moth..." Guardian warned, "Drawn to the flame."

His response was immediate, "Because your submission to your mate is still apparent. You fled from him, but you have not yet escaped him."

She hissed, overcome with bitterness, "Because my past is a shackle. Ever binding. I deserve the suffering I feel because of the suffering my life has imposed on not one good man, but two. Just by living, I create suffering for others. My appearance, my heritage, to which I know not, is a lodestone for despair. Perhaps I should venerate Shar."

More nervous glances. She knew she would no longer be welcome here, no matter the Curate.

"There is always hope, Kaileena." Amran replied, forcefully, "Your burden is the fault of those around you, those whose inner darkness infests the world about them. I can feel the light in you, the goodness, and know that you would be a poor match for her."

"I don't know if it really matters what is in me. I don't know if it would make a difference."

"It will, when you are ready." Amran replied with seemingly absolute certainty, "You will find your place, and it will not be among Sseth. Or the Yuan-Ti. Or Shar. I wish you well in finding it, if it is not here."

"I..." Kaileena started, halted by the lump in her throat, and the tears in her eyes, which still couldn't meet his, "I thank you. Forgive my words. They were ill-considered."

"There is nothing to forgive. Not many could bear this burden and not succumb. You have a strong heart, Kaileena. A good heart."

It was only when they stood up, and he embraced her, that she realized that their conversation had been much longer than what he had shared with the others.

She had needed it more, perhaps.

Her eyes found the floor as she went back to her seat. She couldn't weather their eyes, especially Zolin's. Not in that moment.

She heard as the others followed in her wake, as the Curate spoke the closing words of the sermon, but found herself privy only to the turmoil in her mind and heart.

In that moment, there was nothing else.

...

When the sermon was finished, they waited just outside the doors for the storm to pass, protected by the pouring rain by the extended roof.

For a time, they only watched the sea.

"Your words with the Voice of Amaunator are yours alone..." Zolin finally said aloud, confused by the day's events, "But I wish to know regardless... What was he talking about?"

Kaileena didn't look at him. Her eyes remained riveted to the Dragonmere, "I don't like to talk about it. It is a fresh wound."

"Please, Kaileena. This isn't something you should bear alone."

"I know that!" she snapped, hissing, "But I am alone. I have no family. I have no country. All I have is..."

She breathed deeply, "You, my friend. And Guardian. I'm sorry...I..."

Her eyes watered, and her tight grip on the railing left her with pale knuckles.

"I cannot explain it without telling you the rest of my story. One tragedy begets another."

"Then tell me. Please."

"For you, Zol. Only for you."

...

Uktar, 1478 Dalereckoning

Listening carefully to the tension in the birdsong and other disturbances in the forest around her, Kaileena flicked her tail excitedly as she made her approach from upwind. She stalked her prey; a small band of deer, as silent as a ghost, and not even the birds flew away in fright.

While it was the day after her twelfth name day, she had offered to hunt for the family, knowing that she was now the one best suited to the task. Gatsuyu, while very strong, was not very sneaky, having taken up Father's crops for the last two or three years.

Kaileena smiled, thinking of how cross Father had been when Brother had insisted on taking his share of the labor, and how hard it was to not giggle and spook the deer. Father was getting older, and it was appropriate for the first son to assume his duties.

Those had been Brother's exact words, actually.

She wondered distantly what her duty was. Being…whatever she was, none of the villagers would take her as a wife, and even if one did, she could not provide another to the family line…technically, she was not even family at all.

Father had argued with her for years that she was a member of the family, and Kaileena knew it to be true on an emotional level…but she was not blood relation. She was not even the same species. What was she to do?

Oh, she had done her fair share for the family of course; learning how to hunt and farm, even going out of her way to research and purchase herbs towards tonics and poultices to sell at the market, having bought a musty old tome with chemical recipes with her allowance.

She had provided well, had more than earned her place even had Father detested her. And yet… She yearned for others of her kind, to know where she came from. To know her people, whatever they were. She yearned to someday start her own family, even, as insane as it sounded presently to her confusing and sometimes even outright contradictory teenage urges and inhibitions.

But all that seemed impossible. In fact, it probably was.

Now in an unpleasant humor, her "hair" puffing with her agitation, Kaileena shook away her misgivings. Her feathers, having bloomed into a crest from a spot above and between her brow, all the way to halfway down the back of her head, were originally pale white, but she had also created sets of dyes, mostly for sale, setting aside a soft violet color for personal use. That, combined with a creamy white, made a contrasting gradient from the central stalk of the feathers that pleased her. A few other things had developed with her body that she had not expected, as she had found several lizards in the past and carefully noted their common reptilian traits.

For one, she produced body heat, and didn't need to lay in the sun.

Still, with all the bright colors over her body and the burgeoning feminine curves, Kaileena considered herself beautiful, exploring her new traits with hesitant curiosity, possessed of a new sense of nervous vanity, and wished to look and smell her best, even if she currently had to forsake her kimono for an itchy linen vest and a pair of wool leggings.

Her bow, well, her father's bow, was strapped across her back, and Kaileena had not brought his spear, needing only her skill in archery to finish the quarry. Even if she had not been skilled enough, the poison, carefully made not to spoil meat, was also quite capable of making a clean kill.

She didn't like killing animals, killing anything, but her family needed food on the table, and that was her responsibility. She just hoped the deer would understand that.

The prey wasn't too far ahead of her, at least five in all; two males, two does, and maybe a youngling. She would probably single out a male, unless one of the others was injured. The group would survive without her selection. She would ensure it.

As she neared the group, to which she could tell based upon the strength of the scent and the quieted birdsong, Kaileena scaled the nearest tree that would support her, but one far enough from the targets that she could remain undetected; opting for about two stone-throws of distance. She climbed up, using the branches for support, her body performing a peculiar slithering undulation, until she had an unobstructed view of the grazing animals, still oblivious to her presence.

The deer were all healthy looking, (physical wounds generally marked a deer as a target and visible illness eliminated it as a target), grazing hungrily on small patches of grass, possibly looking for root-based plants like wild carrots, and Kaileena settled on the smaller male, leaving the bigger one alive to protect the group from predators.

She pulled back as far as the bow would allow, her sights squarely focused on the male, when it suddenly dropped with an arrow in its head.

She hadn't fired yet…

Several more arrows sailed across the forest, dropping all of the others, fawn included, before they could even bolt. Kaileena waited on her perch, her tail curling with anger.

What monsters would kill a youngling?!

There were growling noises, as if from rabid beasts, and a high pitched shrieking sound that she did not recognize.

"Good job, boys!" a man called boisterously, entering her line of view with a tiny metal lump in one hand and an oddly shaped bow that was horizontal and featured a curved handle in the other. His skin was abnormally tanned, his eyes were shaped differently, and his body in general was more tall and lean. Kaileena concluded that he was a foreigner. She had only had a few experiences with outlanders, usually on her infrequent trips to the town of Kazeatari Inaka, but those meetings had never been pleasant.

This man before her, leading five or so similar looking brutes, immediately struck her as unsettling. Her fist impression of that hooked, cold-reddened nose, crooked teeth, and hungry eyes made her think of a vulture, its beak bloodied with a fresh kill.

She stayed very still, not wanting the motion to allow them to spot her, as she was very high up in the tree where there were few thick obscuring branches. Still, her natural colors were hardly camouflage...

Many four legged, furred animals followed them...dogs? Not any breed she had seen before; their wrinkly, drooping faces and ears seemed very out of place on thin, lean bodies with little fur.

The men began processing the deer, but their strange dog-animals started snarling in her direction as the wind shifted, their jowls drooling. Kaileena could not bear to watch the fawn being gutted, so she just closed her eyes for a while, ignoring the smells that were coming from below.

"Hey, Gruuth, do you see that up there?"

Kaileena silently cursed, opening her eyes. They were looking up at her.

"Why yes. Yes I do. Good catch, Boren. I would have missed it." Gruuth chuckled, "What do you suppose that is?"

"I know that creature. That is the Kazeatari Serpent, the thing that they like to call the daughter of Shinabi of Kazeatari."

"Oh, is that so? I think you are right, good friend. Whatever shall we do with her?" Gruuth replied, smiling with his crooked, rotten teeth, "I think she was going to steal our kills".

Kaileena hissed, considering her options of escape.

Seeing her only chance, Kaileena was already on the ground level by the time the tree was peppered with arrows.

She dashed away, leaping over a fallen log, running as fast as she could while the snarling beasts gave chase, and she heard indiscernible shouting as she put distance between her and them. The animals were called back after a few seconds of pursuit. Probably because their masters were confident that they could find her.

Correctly so.

...

"Those men were outlanders..." she continued, never once looking his way, "But my land treats outlanders differently than you do here. And those men were contracted by the resident Lord, Minamoto. They said that I fired on them, over a disagreement over the deer. I had not, but my word, as...what I am, didn't equate. Minamoto had no choice. He ordered my execution...but in Teikoku, there are ways for a woman to escape such a sentence. Even one like me."

"What did they do?"

She started to speak, swallowed, and tried again. Her fists clenched, and unclenched.

It was too much. She backed away from the rail, as if to bolt, and he leaned forward to stop her. She crumpled, and he caught her, striking his hand on the railing. He paid it no heed. She curled into a little ball as she leaned into him, weeping.

"Father tried to save me!" she cried, burying her head into him, "And they found out. They killed him for it. They killed him! He took me in, he raised me. He didn't have to. He didn't owe me anything! And they killed him for trying to protect me!"

Her next words were muffled, incoherent, as she vented her grief, and he held tightly, numb.

There was nothing to say. He numbly held his friend as she cried for her father, of a life and innocence lost, and felt a dampness against his cheeks.

The rain kept pouring. It seemed to fit.

In that moment, it was hard for him to believe that a sunshine could follow this storm, or a dawn could follow this dusk.

Chapter 4

Immigrant Bunkhouse, Suzail (27th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Kaileena woke in her bed, in Maren's bunkhouse.

She stared at the ceiling, dimly confused as to how she had returned. The last thing she remembered, was...

Oh.

Zolin must have brought her back here.

She rose, bathed, and stared out the shuttered window, to the cobblestone streets below. She felt Guardian in her mind, privy to her sensations. She knew he wanted to speak, but didn't know the words.

That was fine. She didn't know the words either.

Idly, she realized she hadn't had an attack of withdrawal in some time. That was good.

The market lived and breathed, alive with activity. The sky was overcast, but the sun was visible as a lighter shade of grey against the backdrop, painful to stare at for long.

Melancholy, she might not bother to leave, save the fact that she needed work soon. To fail here was to betray all the hardship she had overcome to reach this point.

Suzail would be her new home, and that was that.

"Good morning, Guardian." she said aloud, eyeing the lamp as she cradled it in her hands. It was the closest she could come to touching him.

"Good morning, Little Fox." he replied telepathically, reserved but happy, or what she identified as probably happy, "Are you feeling better?"

"I think so."

"Good. Do you need anything from me? This extended wakefulness is...draining."

"You stayed up all night?"

"Yes. I wanted to make sure you would be alright. You weren't really there when the Paladin brought you here."

"Thank you. And go ahead and...umm, sleep, if you want. I think I'm getting the hang of the navigation here."

His presence going quiescent, she bade good morning to Maren, and the few in the bunkhouse that hadn't scorned her, before forgoing breakfast and heading out the door. That stew would do more harm than good.

Her first stop, the more likely prospect, was the Golden Goblin, a taphouse of ill-refute but openly catering to non-cormyreans, and even the few Elves and Dwarves in the city.

Hopefully, they would also admit a...whatever she was.

It was awfully far away, near to the second market on the southwestern corner. If they offered living space, she would take it. Otherwise...

Nothing for it, she took a long, main road down rows upon rows of residences, passing a few shops along the way. She quickly checked each of them; neither of the two apothecaries were looking for apprentices, nor was the male seamstress (tailor?) or the cobbler, which was fine, since the polish he was using stung her nostrils.

Eventually, she reached the Goblin, a one-story building with ugly cobblestone walls and a low, thatched roof. The painted sign outside showed evidence of considerable age; the leering Goblin face was weathered into obscurity, and the metal letters nailed into it were lined with rust.

Inside, the air stank of pipeweed. It was dark, hard to see, no sources of light present save that of a trio of tinted glass lanterns about a Goblin statue, and a candle on each table, also inside of tinted glass, painting the taproom in a dull yellow.

Everyone was drinking ale out of crude iron steins, laughing and belching and singing along to a jaunty tune. Something about the salt of the ocean and sunken gold and lusty women and all the other things sailors liked to sing of.

Ignoring the uproar, and the quiet that came when she started to become noticed, she picked a seat in the corner chair, alone, and waited for a server.

Knowing that it helped to follow etiquette, and now knowing that ordering a drink was etiquette when dealing with a tavern-keeper, Kaileena asked for a cup of raspberry mead when she was accosted by an uncomfortable looking female in a tight-fitting gown with a threaded corset. She paid modestly, with two of her few remaining silvers.

"Just remember to trade in your foreign currency." she said, frowning at the sight of them.

"Not enough to convert into crowns. I'll try to remedy that. Are you the proprietor?"

The Human's frown deepened.

"No."

"May I speak to him?"

Nodding, though her expression soured further, the female turned away, shouting something over the din.

More eyes upon her.

Kaileena shivered, but otherwise maintained herself, sipping her mead. Like the plum wine of her homeland, it was sweet, possessed of a dull yellow color, but more to her liking, made with honey instead of plum, and possessed of just a slight pinkish hue and tartness of the raspberry.

It was better quality than the fare of last few places she had propositioned. Much better. It made up for the poor construction of the Goblin in general; the lighting was more functional than decorative; the walls were stained with years of accumulated smoke, stained beer, and other foulness, the paint of the wooden interior peeling in sheets. The thatching of the roof was old, and smelled like an untended stable, even through the suffocating smoke. The low lighting hid the fact that the Goblin was slowly rotting apart.

The proprietor turned out to be a middle-aged Human with a bare scalp, a crudely trimmed beard, and deep, dark circles lining his brown eyes. He looked at ease when he approached her; more in the way like he was convinced he could put her down, if he needed to, than that he was actually relaxed.

"Can I help you?"

He was missing teeth. At least four.

"I was looking for work." she replied, trying to be equally polite and confident, "Were you interested in hiring? I can cook, or clean, or whatever else you need."

He blinked, confused.

She was used to that.

"I've been needing a housekeeper. Sick of doing that myself and cooking and keeping the wenches in line. But..."

But...

"You are concerned I will scare away business."

"Aye."

"I am Kaileena, by the way. I didn't catch your name."

It also paid to properly introduce one's self. It put them at ease, made it easier to consider her a person.

"Mart."

"Pleased to meet you, Mart. I'm not here to start trouble." Kaileena pleaded, "I can clean, and when I can write common a little better, I can order supplies for you. I won't talk to anyone. You won't even notice me after a while."

"I'm sorry, lass. Have you tried a festhall? Their always looking for...ummm...exotic types, like yourself."

A festhall. Always a festhall.

"I don't want that kind of work. Please...could you just give me a week to try it out?"

He bit his lip, looking away. Considering.

For a moment, she dared hope.

"I can't do it." he replied finally, apologetic, "Here. Your round's free. You can stick around and order more if you want, and if you want to come back for more food or drink, you can, but I can't take you on. Too many complications, just hiring on an immigrant, not even considering..."

Her drink already finished, Kaileena accepted her coins back, and bowed low, "I thank you for the time and consideration, Mart. If I do find work, I may stop by now and again. You are nicer than...the others I've gone to and asked."

Nodding, he turned back to the bar, and she walked out onto the street, sighing.

Another failure. And she was certain this could have been the one...

She would try the Brigand's Bottle, and then she would go look for Zol.

He'd proven to be the only person she could open herself to, besides Guardian, and he wasn't always the best company.

Sometimes, it paid to feel normal for a change.

...

She came to him, this time.

Usually he waited for her, but he always gave warning, or tried to. And she always followed strict routine; mornings with him when possible, afternoons searching for work, and later evenings back at the bunkhouse for rest... When he was performing his duties for the Purple Dragons, sent all about Suzail to gather information, orders, supplies, or just to spread the good word and heal the odd wound here and there, she always had a way of finding him.

Even today, on the Eastgate battlement, she found him with ease.

"Good afternoon, Kaileena." he said happily, sharing an ale with a friend among the guard, who seemed less than pleased, "You caught me on meal break, as I'm sure you noticed. Meet Grantham, who was so kind to show me about my new post."

Nodding, she bowed, "Konichiwa, Grantham-san."

Grantham didn't seem to know what to make of her.

"Yes, well...greetings, citizen. I trust you won't take too much of Goodsir Zolin's time. My shift is starting up soon."

With that, Grantham departed, leaving them alone together.

He'd always been nervous about being alone with a girl. As a boy, he'd always been flighty among the cloister; probably why he had the reputation he did nowadays. But it didn't bother him here. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Any luck?"

"No."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Hai. The Golden Goblin was nice, though. Bugs and smoke and stains and all. Maybe if I stick around, it'll stop being gross and start being homey."

He laughed, "I'll never get used to your rare humor. It suits you, though."

Obviously not sure whether or not to take that as a complement, Kaileena shrugged, taking Grantham's seat, "How fares your day, Zol?"

"Well enough. One of them men caught something. He didn't say where he got it, but I have a good idea, given the...affected area."

He coughed, "Nothing a prayer for divine healing couldn't fix. I advised him to take up future matters with priests of Sune. That's their area of expertise, not mine."

"Mmph."

Her violet-pink eyes glazed over, a second, inner eyelid closing over each of them, making them a shade darker. It was the only reason he noticed, so quickly did the overlap occur. He also noticed the deepening circles under her eyes.

"Getting enough sleep?"

Kaileena blinked, startled, "Yes. I actually feel much better than when I first came here. I um..."

She looked away. Her tail started lashing against the legs of her chair. Her hands, fingers intertwined on the table, twitched.

"You can tell me, you know. You've already told me this much, right?"

"Right. Sorry, Zol. I am restless, is all. And my body isn't putting up with it well."

"Why? Is there something you were doing before that you aren't now?"

"You could say that."

"Something bad?"

She blinked, slowly, and looked away again, "Yes. It's been a while. But I don't want more. Not anymore. Let it drop, please."

"Well enough. Given what you went through...it's understandable."

"Thank you, Zol. I really don't think anyone else could speak with me over such things. You just seem to have a way of it."

"Must be part of being a paladin. Or maybe I just like you."

Kaileena tensed, and there was a brief flash of panic in her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

She calmed, and smiled, and there was such beauty in it that it pained him, "Yes, Zol. I think so. And I like you too. I won't keep you. I just wanted to say hello."

He let the silence stretch. Just a little longer, while he pondered his reactions to her.

"Of course." Zolin finally replied, "We can do more tomorrow. I have that day off. Come meet me in the sparring grounds in the morning, outside of the Citadel. I find that exercise always helps soothe the body and mind, and you could use for a little of that in both, I think."

"No fighting?"

"No. Just a little friendly competition."

"Alright then. If you say so."

She kissed him on the forehead as she left, a short, affectionate little peck.

Zolin blinked, confused.

Even standing, she was barely level with him sitting, so she had to get close, just for a moment. Very close.

Thinking nothing of it, Kaileena was already out the door.

Leaving him with a stifling feeling on his forehead, and on his cheeks.

Maybe he wasn't so carefree with her after all...

...

Why had she kissed him?

Kaileena hissed, equal parts confused and frustrated. A porter backed away from her, nervously, but she passed him by without a glance or an apology.

Why had she done something so foolish?

The walk back to Maren's was a long one, indeed. She passed by and around several mercantile buildings, and promptly ignored them. As she could think about was the flush of her cheeks, the spot on her lip where she'd kissed Zolin on the forehead.

He'd said he liked her. What did that mean? What exactly had he meant that comment as?

Gods, why had she taken it literally?

It had been so...instinctive, so natural. She couldn't deny that he wasn't attractive for a Human. With his copper-brown curls, his neatly trimmed goatee, perfect teeth, and his mischievous, boyish green eyes. His bronzed skin, his honed muscles. His smile. His laugh.

Living with Humans all her life had given her a good idea of the concept. But she hadn't felt particularly...intrigued, by one all her life.

But he wasn't interested. He couldn't be. He was Human, and she was...

Regaining control of herself, Kaileena walked swiftly, to the place she rested her head but was not her home, determined to forget the whole ordeal.

Some things were better off not being.

Chapter 5

Suzail, Cormyr (28th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Kaileena rose to another overcast sky, forsook a bath, and begrudgingly met her friend in the location he had chosen. She decided to forget about the kiss, and hope Zol had already.

Down the streets towards the docks, the Citadel loomed over the skyline, dominating this section of the city. Beyond the clusters of houses and businesses, there was a great open area, like a courtyard. A wall lined it, about twice the height of a man. Beyond that wall, she found archery targets made from densely packed straw, which were even then being pelted with arrows from the training men-at-arms.

Most were youths, scraggily and unshaven, being harassed amid scathing curses by an armored elder, a Battlemaster, most like.

He eyed her as she passed, scowling, then screamed at his trainees with renewed enthusiasm as they did the same.

Beyond them, further in towards the Citadel, large rings, some filled with sand, others with dirt, and others still with large rocks or partially sunken in wet mud, provided grounds for groups of combatants to duel with wooden practice weapons, and, by the looks of it, the genuine articles, wrapped in padding. The varying rings likely represented different landscapes, different fields to battle in.

Some fought in groups, others, in pairs. Single combatants fought single combatants, and rarely pairs.

Pikes, rapiers and buckers, and even a few battleaxes were present, though most fought with short sword and shield. Most also wore matching mail brigandines and tabards bearing the royal crest of Cormyr, the Purple Dragon, reared for combat, surrounded by a kite shield.

Zolin was easy to spot, with his leather and mail affair, and his golden sun amulet that caught light through the partial overcast. He seemed to exude light and calm assurance, where the others only exuded sweat and noise.

"Ohayō, Zolin-San."

"And well met to you once more, Kaileena." he replied jovially, bowing as she did, "I thought you might appreciate some exercise, and gods know I could use a little as well."

"You are dressed for battle. I do not understand. You wish to spar?"

"Why not? It's such a good place to do it, right beside the men and women who defend this city. The royal army. The Purple Dragons. We could all teach each other, I'm sure."

"Why are they called Purple Dragons? I was never clear on that."

"They slew a Purple Dragon, of course. Well...a red whose scales turned purple with age."

"What?"

He chuckled, "Ancient history, of course. Time honored tradition. The legends speak of a being called Thauglorimorgorus, an invader followed by an army of Orcs and the like. King Azoun the Second slew Thauglorimorgorus, The Purple Dragon, founding the nation of Cormyr. Over a hundred men followed him as he challenged the wyrm, all of which aided and many of which died, and without them, he would surely have died as well. That's the part the chapbooks don't mention. Afterward, all the kingdom's soldiers were named Purple Dragons, in their honor. It is said that if one not of Orbaskyr blood were to take the throne, Old Thauglorimorgorus would rise again, and Cormyr would be no more. "

"Interesting."

"Not entirely true, actually." he added, "Cormyr was founded about two hundred years earlier, as a unity of Human and Elvish clans. Our first recorded king was Faerlthann Obarskyr. Old Thauglorimorgorus brought it to ruin, devastating the lands and slaughtering the people, and Azoun restored it as a kingdom by striking the vile creature down. So technically, he re-founded Cormyr as a purely Human civilization at this time."

"Oh."

"Oh?" He said, a copper-tinged eyebrow arched in a display that she recognized only recently as a gesture of haughtiness, though there was also an ironic flair to it. Sarcasm.

She studied the grounds he had chosen. Mere stone, it was uniformly flat, about the size of a stone toss from central point to edge. His weapon, a broadsword, was belted at his waist, its iron pommel dented and weathered with use.

He must have read her expression, because he frowned, "I haven't offended, have I?"

"Females cannot wield weapons in combat."

"But you use spells."

"We weren't allowed to fight, either." she replied, eyes averted, "An I am...unable to break tradition. I use violence only when I must defend myself."

He nodded, frowning thoughtfully, "I see. I apologize...you had said you were restless, so I..."

She smiled, weary but touched, "I appreciate the gesture, really, I do. Maybe I can compromise."

He perked up at that, a hint of boyishness betrayed in his smile, so unlike the warrior he rightly looked like, "And what do you propose, my friend?"

"I won't spar with you." Kaileena replied, setting down her pack and strengthening her bond with her familiar, "But I will accommodate one who can better prove your match."

Casting an intricate, powerful spell, Kaileena inhaled, as luminous blue fumes escaped it, more specifically, the lamp inside it, and she knew no more.

...

Guardian blinked with eyes of flesh, looking down to soft, nimble hands of blue skin, to claws manicured and dyed pink.

What had she just done?

"Kaileena?"

He looked up, to the Human, as he remembered him though Kaileena's dream-memories.

"Gods. What happened to your eyes?"

In the pack was a mirror. He knew because she knew. She used it when she dyed her feathers.

Drawing it, He looked down into Kaileena's reflection. Only...it wasn't Kaileena.

Her eyes burned blue, surrounded by a ring of black. The reptilian slit was an X-mark, four thin, narrow tips reaching to the very edges of the cornea. Their center was thick, nearly a rounded circle.

They were his eyes. He knew they were his eyes, even if he had no idea what he looked like in the flesh.

He tried to speak, failed, and all that emerged was a wet, gurgling hiss. While her limbs obeyed him, their shape familiar enough, her mouth was shaped differently.

Zolin stepped towards him, and Guardian waved him away.

Very well. She wished him to fight, and fight he would.

To the side was a weapon rack, stocked with assorted weapons of blunted steel. He selected a short sword, with a thin guard, and a round pommel. Testing its blade, it was flexible enough.

Returning to the ring. Guardian came on guard, blade diagonal and downward facing, before hiking it up into a flourish, altering his stance as the paladin took an uncertain step forward.

This body was light. Flexible. Good for footwork, if lacking reach.

It would do.

Sword ready, Guardian thrust forward, feinted, as Zolin delivered the expected parry, flipped it up, and swatted him on the nose with the flat of the blade.

The other Humans were beginning to watch.

Already backpedaling, Guardian wove the steel in a series of intricate flourishes to cover everything from the waist down, ready to turn steel by batting it aside. Kaileena's sash had the added effect of moving to and fro about his shuffling legs, concealing them in visual blind spots, and her tail propelled his steps, accelerating altering direction like a rudder.

Zolin didn't press the attack. Still confused, he nonetheless paced about him, as he came to a halt.

"Alright. I don't know what you did...but if you're ready to fight, I will oblige."

Zolin took a step closer. Another.

This time, the Human struck first. Their weapons collided with sharp retort. Had it been a direct impact, Guardian would have found himself staggered.

Instead, he had angled the blade perpendicular to his leading leg, but slightly to the side, and the momentum displaced down and to the opposite side. Armed with a much shorter weapon, Guardian flipped the blade about the strike, clubbed Zolin's hand with the pommel, dealt an open palm strike to the side of his knee, all the while restoring his grip on the sword.

With his superior bulk, Zolin pushed him away, cursing, and, in one swift motion, was on guard as well, blade in his left hand.

"You are a skilled swordsman, Zolin." Guardian replied with a rakish grin, hiding his distaste as the light, chirping voice that should have been his own, but was decidedly not, "But I am a being bereft of all but my knowledge. I am nothing but skill."

They met again, Guardian sweeping low, his lack of height forcing the Human to guard low, by the knee, awkwardly bending his back forward.

Low. High. Low. High.

He variated his attack patterns, not offering a single moment for his foe to retaliate, feet never planted squarely on the ground. Guardian even switched sword hands several times, all in the motions of attacking, before backpedalling, allowing the Human room to breathe.

Guardian had nearly broken his iron defenses, and the Human knew it.

Now on the defensive, sword twirling in intricate patterns meant to bewilder and misdirect, Guardian weathered the expected assault, redirecting the Human's momentum rather than meeting it head on.

Eventually, they broke off, each circling the other.

Guardian panted, every deep respiration followed by a beleaguered hiss. His arms felt like lead.

Zolin fared little better; his face was perspiring heavily. His wrists no doubt ached, like Guardian's did. But he had suffered the three first blows of the match. Guardian remained unscathed.

Guardian readied himself for another charge, but stopped, as he saw blue mist issuing from his nostrils.

Awareness floundered. He was split between recognizing his sensations of Kaileena's body, and of the sensory deprivation of the lamp.

Zolin backed away, as did several of the men-at-arms that had surrounded the ring, watching apprehensively.

"See...you...soon..." Guardian hissed, smiling, as the world dimmed, and all became nothing.

...

After the duel, and the confusion that had followed, they walked to the Royal Court, stopping in the gardens.

Kaileena led the way, ducking the stares of every Purple Dragon they passed on their way out of the sparring grounds.

His wrist still hurt. And a few other things besides, his pride foremost.

She spoke idly of her homeland; the cherry blossoms that bloomed for a short time, and the blazing trail of petals that blanketed the ground for days after. The steamed rice that was their staple, and the rare indulgence of a desert treat made with tapioca, rice, and red bean. The warmth of the iron, coal-burning stove that had warmed their home, and her father's lap.

She spoke so freely, so honestly.

He knew that she trusted him with all her heart, even to speak of mundane things in this manner.

As they arrived, and found a spot along a small nook, beyond sight of the road, they took in their surroundings; the beds of wildflowers, the impenetrable sheets of thorny rose bushes sectioning off adjacent areas in place of walls. A squirrel found a prize among the assorted blossoms in the form of a large seed, and scurried up a thin oak, his beady black eyes on them the entire while.

Something, probably a toad, gurgled as it moved inside of a still pond, disturbing its dark waters.

Kaileena played with her tail, batting it to and fro while grabbing at it with her hands, while he lay down a blanket, and drew food from a basket, setting the picnic he had prepared the day before; cold chicken and pickles for him, dried berries, and nuts rolled with honey for her.

Finally, he could take the silence no more.

"So...are you going to explain to me what happened there?"

She looked over him, eyes bright with curiosity.

"I thought I already did."

"Not really."

She shrugged, "I am...a warlock, yes? He was my familiar, Guardian."

She had spoken once or twice of a spirit named Guardian, who lived in the lamp in her pack. How he was bound to her, and couldn't be a certain distance from her without teleporting into her midst. A seemingly benevolent being, but...

But what he had sensed in fighting her, in fighting it, was ruled by neither good nor evil. Cunning, old, very old...the aura he had felt, had felt...not of this world. Not of anything he knew. The idea of it...wearing her skin, controlling her actions...felt wrong.

So very wrong.

It upset him more than he thought possible.

"But you let him possess you?"

"I guess."

"Kaileena, that is very dangerous."

Her expression closed. Her tail rested in her lap.

"I trust him, Zol. He means me well."

"You don't even know who or what he is!"

Her frown became a scowl, her teeth visible, "I don't know who or what I am."

"I do." he insisted, "And where it counts, so do you. This is different. He is a spirit, of what kind, who knows? How can you assure me you know he won't hurt you?"

"Because of what he saved me from."

"But-"

"You don't understand!" she spat, hissing, "When my people, goodly Humans, imprisoned me, when they condemned me to die by the sword, they offered me one chance to escape such a fate. It was a false choice. I traded a swift death on the executioner's block for a lingering, living death in a brothel. I let them use me, like an object. I let them treat me like some kind of leper they nonetheless wanted to put it in. I came to see every negative aspect of a Human, every hidden evil they indulge in upon people like me. Every secret joy they found in the pain of others..."

"If you knew what people really wanted, you would understand." she concluded grimly, looking away, "It isn't about light and darkness. In every heart there is shadow, and the less it manifests in their daily life, the denser it is, and the more violent it becomes in its rare indulgence."

Yes...

She had alluded to it, but to have it spelled out like that.

Every sermon he had ever given personally in his time as a paladin of Amaunator came back to him in stark detail.

"Evil does not always hide in the darkness..." he had postulated, "Sometimes, it hides itself in the hearts of good men, by blinding them from mercy."

"As I said, my father tried to save me, but he was only Human. He failed, and they killed him."

"You can't blame yourself for that."

"Why not? It was my fault."

"You did nothing wrong."

"It doesn't matter. My life ended my father's, and my punishment became fitting. Life in and of itself is evil. Just by living, we hurt others without realizing it. As with those men, with Lord Minamoto, who sentenced me. As with Minamoto, me. Every life we touch, we risk harming. For the longest time, I thought that ending my life was the only way to prevent myself from hurting anyone, but I was too afraid to die to do so. And so I drew inward, complete in my loneliness."

"Until..."

...

Nightal, 1480 Dalereckoning

"Oh yes, that was just swell. You are quite the woman, oddities aside." The client chuckled with some sarcasm, gripping her thighs while he lay with his belly against her back, "I want to pay for an extension".

"You will have to sort that out with the host, sir." Kaileena replied dryly, already trying to push him away. It had been almost two years since her father's death, but the pain had not diminished much, merely hardening from despair to bitterness.

Having passed her fourteenth name day, Kaileena felt as though she was already well into her middling years. Time had lost all meaning, measured only by the scores of men and women that came to see her, the only ones who cared to. The world seemed a small and unwelcoming place; these four walls, this room, and the rooms beyond it. The brothel that was a prison of women.

Years of scarcely seeing the sun or the sky had diminished her memory of them, of the world outside. She sometimes wondered if she wanted to see them at all anymore.

She sat up, and grimly started to tie together her obi, the corset-like wrap holding her unchastely cut kimono together, when the customer grabbed her hands. "I have something to put up for collateral." he insisted nervously, hastily taking something out of the robes he had left bundled on the floor.

Kaileena tensed, not sure if he had managed to smuggle in a tanto…

He pulled out the item, vaguely round and wrapped in cloth, unraveling it quickly. She tried to lean forward to bolt to the door, but relaxed as she saw the item to be a rather peculiar looking teapot-shaped lamp, cast in dull clay and topped with a beaten metal stopper that was colored in paint.

An interesting piece…but not really all that valuable…

"I know what you're thinking, miss, but trust me; this item is a real bauble." The client said excitedly, "Look".

He slammed the piece into the wall, and Kaileena recoiled, blinking, expecting a magnificent crash, but as she opened her eyes…it was still intact, lying on the floor. "I got frustrated enough to take the hammer to that thing…it is indestructible…magical, probably. You want it? I'm sure your boss will take that and half the rate".

Half rate? That was seventy coins…

"I don't know…" Kaileena said idly, but she was intrigued nonetheless. School had taught her that magic and those who used it were dangerous renegades, not to be trusted…but they had not exactly been kind to her. Kaileena had found that she was becoming increasingly curious of magic users and their tools, and actually owning an item of magic seemed…appropriate.

"Oh, alright. Just make it quick. I'm sleepy."

...

She waited until he left, then picked up the so-called indestructible burner lamp and uncorked the stopper, gasping at what she found. The surface of the lamp might have been weathered and mundane clay, but the inside was gleaming gold! Its manufacturer had molded the outer shell about a smaller, golden lamp!

How had the man not noticed?

There was also an engraving, composed of symbols that she did not recognize and doubted were even in her language at all. Looking deeply into the symbols, they appeared to almost glow with the blue paint imbued into them, their hues ranging from fair sky to dark sapphire.

Actually, they weren't glowing. They were dissolving...

Kaileena drew in a panicked breath, and the tenebrous blue fumes entered her mouth, choking her.

She could feel her heartbeat, hear it inside her head. "I've been poisoned!" she gasped, tried to call for help, but her voice failed her. The room began to spin.

Kaileena doubled over, vomited, and collapsed insensate, her temples pounding as everything went dark...

..Everything was nothing. She couldn't see.

Trying to touch her face, it felt as if she reached in to grasp empty air. Panicked, she tried to call for help, but if any sound emerged, she couldn't hear it.

Was she dead?

"What drives your heart?" a voice asked inside her head, inhumanly deep, and Kaileena looked through the darkness around her, seeking the source. "I do not understand…is this a dream?" she asked timidly, more in thought than voice, seemingly alone in an empty void of space that seemed to span forever.

"No…this is a place inside of your mind…but it is no dream." The voice replied, "It is merely the confusion you feel when considering my question. Ponder, and it shall fill with your answer. Now…what do you desire, above all else in this world. What drives your heart?"

Kaileena was unsure of how to answer.

She wanted her father back.

She wanted her, Father, and Brother, to live in peace, away from cruel men…but that could never happen. Not now…

She thought of wherever her species might have been born of, and thought of finding them and living far away from the Hitorigami and his cruel laws…that was a desire, but it was not the desire of her heart.

No…her truest desire was far more simple, bred of her two years of captivity and humiliation.

"I desire…" she said, and the dark void filled with a tremulous burst of light and energy, and all that ceased to be, became.

There was a sun…and a sky, over a field of fresh green and wildflowers of all the colors she could think of. Animals of all types picked at vegetation, calm and without malice, utterly serene as only a world without predators could allow. In all directions the horizon offered an endless expanse, leading into even greater, unknown, wonders. A pasture. A garden. And endless garden for her to explore.

"I desire freedom." Kaileena concluded. She wanted to live her own life, not the life that others forced upon her. She wanted to fear no man or woman or god, and to exist as she decided was best. She wanted to live free, in peace, and choose her own path.

"A pure intent, guided by a pure soul…" the voice observed.

And then something…took shape before her.

It blurred about the edges, and was difficult to see. Impossible to focus on. What she could tell was that it was massive, towering over even the largest of men, with great unfolded membranous wings. Blue symbols, identical to the ones in the lamp, glowed about and within it, with a somehow calming radiance akin to flowing water, all across a glassy, opaque surface of rippling shadow the color of darkest oil, and looking past it, within it, Kaileena saw twinkling crystals and shimmering constellations swimming in the light.

It was…beautiful…terrifying and uncanny and beautiful.

"Who-...What are you?" she gasped, unable to process what she was seeing.

"I am the last remnant of something that was lost." The being replied, "This is irrelevant now, as I have accepted you, and agree to serve you in order for you to reach your desire".

"Awaken."

Kaileena practically leapt off of her bed, finding herself within the brothel again.

A dream.

Only a dream.

"What…?" her thought stopped dead as her eyes fell upon the nightstand.

The lamp that was her gift sat upon it, and about it, the tenebrous mist lingered, and thickened into a cloud of smoke and shadow, inside of which constellations of glowing runes formed, flared, and dissipated without a discernable pattern.

It came out of the lamp?!

"What?!"

"Hush, little one." It said, "You remember my words. I am sworn to aid you."

She stood up suddenly, swooned, and held onto the bed, dizzy.

"You desire to be free, and I shall do all within my power to make that reality."

Free? She could be free?!

"What are you?" she asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu, and the creature paused.

"You are persistent…but I no longer remember what I once was, and I do not understand fully what I am now. As best I can explain, I am bound to you, by my will and my magic, to become your Familiar and Guardian."

"A Familiar?"

"The lamp which was given to you, the lamp which once served as a means to another end, now serves as a shell to hold me. Without it, I would be nothing, or at least unable to manifest myself in your world or any other. But now that you bear the lamp, and I have awakened at your touch and the strength of your will, our connection allows me to pass my knowledge and certain abilities unto you".

"And you will help me be free, in return for what?" Kaileena asked, "You must have some reason".

"Little one, I am not a true being, at least not any more. I am not alive, at least not in your sense of the word. I know no desire, no pain, and no joy. Your will, your need, has made me real again, recalling me from the endless slumber of nothingness. It is you in essence that allows me to exist, even more than the lamp itself. Your need…must have been truly great, if it was powerful enough to wake me."

Kaileena nodded, wanting to touch the lamp, but uncertain if it would be presumptuous, "You spoke of abilities?"

"Yes. I sense something within you…that I do not comprehend. In spite of this, I detect little magickal potency in your body…but this does not prevent you from understanding magicka's subtleties. From the moment of my "revival", the boundaries of this most unusual pact were made clear to me. Sadly, most higher spell-craft is beyond my current capabilities, as well, but I retain much of the knowledge of the being that I diverged from, and can give that knowledge to you. Should you ask for…say…treasure, I would be able to impress upon you the exact location and nature of that treasure, if indeed I know of it. Should you ask for fighting skills or magickal knowledge, if I know of them, I would be able to teach you. I will also see through your eyes, and advise you as best I can, even while fully inside the lamp."

Kaileena held the lamp in her hands, no longer afraid of the lies of her people. Such wonderful things as this could not be evil.

And then she moaned, despairing that she had not found the lamp before…before…

She pushed away the thought, and the crippling grief that accompanied it, and looked back to the cloud that surrounded her now like a shroud.

"Thank you. Thank you for this."

"You gratitude, while noted, is unnecessary. What will you ask of me?"

"I wish to learn everything you can teach me..."

...

"That is what he saved me from." Kaileena said, still kneeling in the grass, "My descent into nihilism. My living death. My safety and my happiness is his duty to fulfill. I don't know if it's right, but I know that without him, I would still be in that brothel, hating myself and hating the world and everyone and everything in it. He said he would do all in his power to allow me to be free."

"And he did." she continued, eyes distant, unfocused, "With his help, I cast my first spell. I put the one who oversaw the brothel into a deep, deep sleep. I stole his keys, his coin purse, and a thick wool cloak, and off I went."

"I still can't believe they did that to you."

"It isn't so surprising."

"Not all men are pigs, Kaileena."

She blinked, using both eyelids, "No, it's not like that. It's hard to explain...the act of deciding another's path is not so insulting in Teikoku."

"Slavery is a common practice?"

"Oh, no. No. I...look, here, in Cormyr, a person's life is defined by the choices they make. A famer can become a sellsword. A soldier can become an artist. The moral way of life is defined by choice. In Teikoku, it's as if...everyone decided that if it was for the best, they don't need to choose. We-...they believe that if left unchecked, people become dangerous, become killers and thieves and what have you, because the choice brought them doubt, and their doubts gave way to greater negative emotions. It's all about everyone, not one person. The moral way of life is defined by community, not choice. "

"I don't understand."

"It isn't about personal power or personal gain in those lands, at least not on a public level of etiquette. It's about living with everyone around you, and doing what you can to help everyone. It's better for a society to decide an individual's path if it is done with the genuine belief it will help them, than to let them choose on their own. Its considered honorable."

"I...think I see."

"It's not a better or worse way of looking at life, just different." Kaileena explained, "Think of it like this; how many Humans are killed by Humans, because of the unchecked ambitions of other individuals? Shade is a perfect example; hundreds and thousands going to war on the whims of a small family and their matron goddess. How many hundreds of kingdoms imploded based off of the acts of a few powerful men?"

"More than I could hope to count." he conceded.

She shrugged, forked tongue flickering, "Teikoku has known one war in the last five hundred years. One war; an armed insurrection let by magic users, which ended in months. A few dozen died. A hundred men and women became prisoners, targeted by their loose association. That was nearly a hundred years prior. No cities fell. The land recovered quickly. Magic became mostly outlawed, but those who practiced anyway were tolerated, to an extent. This is because passivity is culturally preferred over recklessness, empathy over influence, and while martial prowess is respected, without education and a proper guiding principle, a warrior is regarded as nothing more than a mercenary. Noble families going to war with each other never include more than individual-level combat between those who lord over those houses. Nobody ever sends another to do their fighting, to die in their name. Our sense of society and moral integrity prevent it."

"Impressive. But it still doesn't explain what happened to you."

"They look at things differently; most of my people could not imagine the notion of my escape from the brothel. They would have supposed that since being free caused me to "attack" foreigners under Lord Minamoto's protection, as I was, my life was improved. I had a warm, comfortable bed, clothes much finer than any my family could afford, and generous offerings of food. I had a profession, if you could call it that. For all intents and purposes, I was cared for."

"But you broke taboo, by taking that choice for yourself."

She cringed, then nodded.

"Yes. I did. I could not live in that...place, anymore, no matter what others said. And my debt was not rightfully mine to pay. So I left. I took my destiny into my own hands."

"All for the better."

"I am still uncertain."

"Why didn't you return home?"

"Minamoto had agreed to support Gatsuyu, my brother, and any household he created for three generations, after he killed my father. He could not recant that decision while I...labored in captivity. After I escaped, I knew the only way my brother, the last of my family, would keep those holdings, that security, was if I diffused all suspicion towards him. So I made myself visible, in every village I passed. Just for a moment. Just long enough for one person to see. So they knew he wasn't sheltering me. I knew that for him to be safe we could never meet again."

She left him to protect him, even though he was the last of her family. As an outcast, alone among Humans.

To give up that last connection, that last vestige of her former life. To forsake her homeland forever to keep him safe and in comfort...

That was...so selfless.

To have such strength...for one so young...

"I have never met anyone like you." he confessed, his hand on her shoulder, "And I do not think I ever will again."

She looked away, embarrassed, though she didn't shiver in his grip like she used to, "I knew I would find no peace as a fugitive. With Guardian's help, I divined the distance of land from the western coastline. I brooked passage on an expeditionary flight down the Great Ice Sea, and, with a spell that left me in a coma for almost a day, sped a dingy towards the shores of the Hordelands. From there, I was my way west, ever west."

"And here you are."

"And here I am."

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier. They were careless words."

"It's nothing." she replied, smiling, her eyes finding his, "You are a good man, Zolin, but unlike the other good men I have met, I see no shadow in you. I don't know how to explain you just as you don't know how to explain Guardian. I guess what is, simply is."

"Wisely said. I have much to ponder."

She leaned in, and rubbed noses with him, "Me too. I think I'll retire early tonight. Can we meet again tomorrow?"

"Of course, my dear friend."

"I would like that very much. Now, let's eat. I've been dying to taste this honey treat you have made for me."

Chapter 6

Suzail, Cormyr (29th of Flamerule, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Maybe he did like her...

She had spoken of many trivial things with her hostess, Maren, but from what she had absorbed of Cormyrean custom; taking a friend on a picnic in the royal gardens hardly constituted informal leisure, especially between a man and a woman. The regular dining, the invitation to his place of worship, and to spar...these were things done between friends.

But the way he looked at her. The way he spoke to her...

Kaileena found herself terrified; what if she had misread? What if she assumed too much. First the kiss, and now that little stunt in the gardens...

Why did she speak so openly with him? How could she speak so openly with him?

What a mess.

With dusk well under way and her answers not forthcoming, Kaileena decided that Teneth's would be her last stop for the day, having been told of the place in hushed tones by the Elven twins earlier that morning. She looped around a few side streets, the docks and the ocean visible to her right, before finding it situated right on an interior, north-facing corner.

She had assumed they were teasing her, that she would never be employed by a place with such a fine reputation, or luxury, or exceptional service, or whatever made it worthy of mentioning in conspiratorial whispers. Having studied the nondescript, one-story building from outside, she found herself perplexed as to why they had mentioned it at all. There were still boarded up windows; signs of recent construction, or maybe reconstruction.

They probably outfitted the interior first, if they wanted to stay in business.

Nothing for it, she opened one of the wide double doors.

Standing in the doorway, stunned, Kaileena's first impression was that of painted plaster nymphs gamboling about a stained glass window that, for some reason, she had not noticed from the outside. It depicted a tall, red haired woman, that she recognized from her limited education as Sune, Goddess of Dance, Revelry, and...

"Hello?" a woman asked in common, startling her. Drawing her cloak about her out of habit, Kaileena looked over to a short, fair skinned woman approaching her, before a pair of double-doors on either side and a narrow hallway further down. Human but not of Cormyr blood, she smiled freely, her attire a gossamer thin, robe-like dress and a glittering golden scarf about her neck. They looked like priestly garments, but not any she had seen before...

"Hajimemashite." she replied, smiling, though her tailed lashed nervously under her cloak, "I um... I was looking for proprietor here."

"Proprietor?" the woman asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "You speak of Lady Gaelyse, certainly. Are you here looking for work?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Kaileena."

"Well met, Kaileena. I am Nihn. You can doff the cloak and pack. You are among friends here."

Shrugging, she allowed the woman to put them aside, in a series of cubbies along the wall. The number was...forty two. Good to remember. She was loath to be apart from Guardian for any length of time, but she knew exactly where he would be. The building looked large from outside, but not large enough for the distance to trigger their contingency.

Nihn then studied her, her bright garments, with an appraising eye.

"Perfect..." the woman said, bowing, "You'll fit right in. You came at a good time; with the change in management, Gaelyse is looking for new blood. Come, right this way. We need to get you ready."

Blood? That hardly sounded right. Must be something lost in translation...

"Ready?"

"You'll see."

Uncertain, but pleased by how smoothly events were progressing, she let Nihn escort her through the left-facing door and into a steaming bathing chamber. Immediately she was assaulted by the scent of wood and lavender, and Kaileena recoiled, stunned, as she noticed the four or five other women bathing there, and tried not to slip on the moist tiles. Her slippers were ill-equipped for it.

"Easy." Nihn crooned, drawing a hot towel from a smaller alcove along the wall, along with a basin of oddly scented water that she then washed Kaileena's hands with, before cupping a handful to rinse her snout and forehead, "Just relax, and you will do fine. Beauty is more than skin deep. It issues from the core of one's being and reveals one's true face to the world, fair or foul. That is Sune's principal. We recognize our own, no matter their breed. I will let Gaelyse know you are coming."

She then dried herself, then turned and closed the door behind her, and another, similarly clad young woman with honey-blonde hair motioned for the rest of her effects.

What an odd place. Was it a taproom or a temple?

Breathing deeply, Kaileena blinked, and quickly stripped down to her essentials, but also drew a roll of gauze from her belt before removing her top. Relinquishing it as well, Kaileena looked away as she began to wrap the upper part of her arm marred by her brand.

"Wait..."

The woman lifted her arm in her hands, for she was very tall, and surprisingly strong, and studied the markings intently, gently caressing the skin around the brand, massaging it painlessly.

Kaileena swallowed the hiss building in her throat. People looking at it made her feel soiled.

"It is nothing to be ashamed of." she whispered softly, her eyes gentle, "Leave it be. We can remove it."

"I do not have any-"

"We will remove it." She retorted, more authoritative, "Please, take a seat in the pool."

Acquiescing, Kaileena chose a corner away from the others that were bathing, and slipped into the steaming waters. Immediately her tension melted away, and in a dimly acknowledged part of herself, Kaileena suspected that the water was laced with a hint of suggestive magic as much as minerals. Since her skin wasn't bleeding excess magic, she assumed she was mistaken, or perhaps they had found a means to penetrate her magic absorbing aura.

For how long she was there, she could not say, though, when she lazily opened her eyes, two of the other women had left. The rest hardly gave her a passing glance.

She then slipped out of a bathing pit, where the woman proceeded to towel her off.

"That is not-" Kaileena gasped, but she went unheeded as the woman began to hum a peculiar melody, planting a kiss on each of her feet. When sufficiently dry, Kaileena was given a nearly identical robe and scarf, and dressed in it, a thin slit cut to create a seam that her tail could slip through, and belted at the waist with a velvety cord, then led towards the far door.

"You already intend to hire me?" Kaileena asked, motioning to her new garments.

"That isn't for me to decide. Everyone who enters receives such a robe for the duration of their stay, though certain conditions must be met for the scarf."

As she was ushered into the next room, wide and filled with yet more doors, the intensity of the light momentarily blinded her. When her vision cleared, Kaileena noted the Glowballs hanging from accented sconces along the walls, as well as a massive chandelier looming overhead.

Like the Golden Goblin, everything was a shade of yellow and gold, but she knew the former to be a mere imitation, a pretender for a higher artifice. This was the genuine article.

Far more people lounged within, all similarly garbed, though many lacked the scarf, sipping drinks from ornamented goblets and steins, conversing in uproarious laughter or in hushed, secretive whispers. The outer walls were lined with rosewood tables, and about the center was a massive stage upon which men and women, all bearing golden scarves but little else, danced and gamboled with acrobatic flourishes and sensual, suggestive gyrations.

Every texture, every surface, screamed excess and loosed sexuality.

Well, this was what she was looking for. Dancing, drink, and excess.

Her guide brought her before an older woman wearing a full golden dress with bright trim and a dark corset. About her neck and dangling from her ears were lengths of ruby beads, but her face was serene, almost meditative, so Kaileena was left at a loss of her potential nobility. She seemed a mix of countess and priestess, her dark hair threaded with graying silver and her eyes ancient with experience, but her cheeks were smooth and youthful.

Unlike many in the hall, all of them patrons, she assumed, since they lacked scarves, the woman did not stare. She looked genuinely curious, if nothing else.

Her guide bowed low, "A blessed of Sune wishes your audience, milady."

A what? She was not-

Then, suddenly, she remembered the rest of the Lady Firehair's Domain. In addition to Revelry and Dance, she was also the Goddess of Love, often associated with...those that offered their body for coin.

That meant that they thought she was...

Oh.

Now she understood why the twins had been so guarded, yet so seemingly amused. She had no idea Teneth's was actually a festhall, and that they were implying she should work there...

"Thank you, Renda. You can leave her with me. Please, come, sit." she replied, motioning her to a seat at a table near to the stage, the performers finishing their dance with a burst of swift, lithe movements that reminded her vaguely of the Neideirra. The crowd cheered enthusiastically as a man drew a torch, and, his mouth no doubt filled with liquor, spat flame in a thin column, to which his fellows danced alarmingly close, mocking the risk of injury with absolute confidence.

They were served a light, bubbling wine in thin, fluted glasses. She inhaled its bouquet, but did not drink, not wanting to be rude. Gaelyse didn't imbibe either.

As Kaileena found a comfortable position, her tailed curled about the rear legs of the chair and her hands in her lap, she tried not to wilt as this Human studied her with greater intensity than the others. Oddly, as they made eye contact, she noted that same peculiar calmness settling over her again, though this time it felt removed from any sort of enchantment. It was like she could feel positive energy radiating from her host like an aura.

Instinctively, she realized that Gaelyse was indeed a priestess. And this was her temple, of sorts...

"You are uncomfortable." She stated. It was no question.

Kaileena nodded.

"You need not be." she continued, motioning for her hands, and as Kaileena offered them, the Human cupped her hands between her own, "Whatever you have experienced outside these doors, you are among your own here. You are safe. Now...let me see here..."

The priestess faced her palms up, and studied them, face pinched in concentration.

"Kaileena, was it?" she began, her voice a soothing, melodic caress, "Nihn came in a moment ago. I understand you are looking for work."

"Gaelyse-Sama." Kaileena said with a traditional honorific and a respectful nod, though she was still shivering with apprehension, "I umm...Yes, but I think may have given the wrong impression. I am not a..."

Courtesan. Harlot. There were no pleasant ways to say it.

"What you are and what you aren't is of little interest to me." the Human replied, "What and who do you want to be?"

"I don't know."

She really didn't. Most of the last few months had been purely impulsive, as if she had been drawn further and further north by another will outside of her own.

"I understand. You are young, still. Anyone can see that, who knows how to look. I also notice your mark. You have had...an unpleasant experience in this field?"

She didn't have to answer that.

Kaileena averted her eyes, fighting that shaking that came with the recollection of her recent days, "I have come to dislike that kind of intimacy, milady. I was only looking to serve drinks and entertain through...gentler means."

Gaelyse nodded, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes, "I am looking for many things, severs and dancers included. We are still establishing ourselves, you see. You will not wear a scarf as you work, so as not to confuse our guests. But I think we can come to an arrangement."

"I was told working in a Festhall was unacceptable for completing my immigration. Would I still be able?"

"Of course. We are somewhat unique in our reputation. You must report to your immigration representative with proof of your employment?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will have a contract drafted. Let's say...four years? We can re-establish bounds at that point."

Four years would keep her in the city long enough to establish permanent residence. Her paperwork had expressed as such in the bunkhouse. That was by no means a random number.

Gaelyse was offering her a place in Suzail, freely. If she wanted to, the Human could have tried to extort her for more loyalty, more...demeaning tasks. She had dreaded exactly that in coming to this land...

The decision was forthcoming.

"I would like very much, Gaelyse-sama."

"But..."

"But how did you decide so easily? You don't know me."

"I don't?"

She seemed more than a little amused, judging by the upward curve in the corner of her mouth and lips. The momentarily deepening wrinkles on her face.

"I guess maybe a little. Priests can see souls, can't they?"

"In a sense. I know a good deal about you just from this short conversation. I would that you fully embrace Sune's worship, but this is not needed at the present. I would be happy to count you among us."

"An agreement, then." Kaileena conceded, not fighting their impromptu meeting of hands, "Thank you so much, Gaelyse-Sama. I will not forget this, ever."

"Worry not. It is late, so perhaps you should stay. There are plenty of rooms, and I insist on housing my staff if they lack a proper residence in Suzail. You are hungry, and weary. It doesn't take a priest to notice. In the morning, we can draft your contract."

"I...will take you up on this."

"Good. Now finish the wine. Markur will not like it if you leave his vintage to spoil on the table. Have mine as well, and a good meal. There were two others I was expecting tonight, and I must bid you good-eve. Talk to Evette, right there, yes, right there, when you are ready to retire."

"I will, milady."

...

When it became clear she wasn't looking for a partner, Nihn took over for Evette, and led their newest sister down a hall behind the stage, to the right, into the dressing rooms.

"These is where you will prepare for your shows." she instructed her, "You will speak with Cirsi in the morning after the contract is settled. She handles the costumes, makeup, and choreography. She'll judge what you know, and teach you a little to boot. In any case, it'll be a few nights before your ready for your first performance. You...have performed before, right?"

"Yes." Kaileena replied, "A few taverns here and there. It was more a sideshow, really. But they did pay a little."

"Here, they will take you more seriously." Nihn assured her, "Adventurous sorts frequent Teneth's, but not the lower scoundrels you are no doubt used to seeing. They never get through the waiting area."

"In the morning, we'll take you to get that mark removed. Gaelyse said magic doesn't work quite right around you, but Olin's good at tricky jobs like that. He doesn't live here, though, and we'll have to go to him."

"Okay."

"And now for your room. Right this way."

At the back of the main area, a wide staircase descended beneath a plastered archway. At the base of the stairs, the hallway split in two directions at a bare pedestal. In both directions the hall was filled with doorways covered in veils, most of them closed over.

A frequent patron and his favored doxy, Marelda, passed them up the way to the stairs. His weary expression and her uncouth hair left little doubt that they had already concluded their transaction.

He eyed Kaileena critically, but otherwise paid them little heed.

Around the left corner they went. More doors, leading to a fountain that bubbled against the wall.

There. The one in the corner.

"We come and go at all hours of the night, you understand." She explained, entering it, "So you, among other members of the staff that don't commune with Sune in this way, bunk here, where you won't be disturbed. The walls are thick. Sound doesn't pass through them easily."

"I can tell." Kaileena replied, head slanted upward, eyes closed, "I haven't heard a thing since you closed the door there."

Nihn laughed, "The robes are yours, and we'll get another few. You launder and manage yourself. Other than that, your schedule is yours to decide, so long as you keep up with your business. Gaelyse prefers gentle guidance to commands."

"Just don't get lazy, obviously, and you'll do fine."

"Thank you, Nihn. This is all...so sudden. All good things are like that, I think."

"Not all of them." she replied smarmily, "I say this as a peer; if a patron shows interest...don't dismiss him out of hand. It's all about having fun here, you know. You might give it a chance."

"I'll...think about it."

"All I ask. You can pick your own bed, but between you and me, that one in the left corner is Balyn's. The head chef. He gets...feisty, if someone messes with his things."

Kaileena blinked, "I'll remember that. The one in the middle will do."

Saying goodnight, with a less than familial peck on the cheek, Nihn left her be after reclaiming the scarf, the better that she return to her duties in greeting the patrons.

She still had a few hours yet. Maybe another would come along and send back a drink and an...invitation.

...

Dragon's Tooth was a less reputable shop situated along the western end of the docks; a one-story shanty with two cramped rooms; main area, and bedroom, a repurposed house of Dwarven sensibilities. Olin liked it that way. It reminded him of the ramshackle house he grew up in back in Hillsfar, before he got dragged into Skullport and sold off cheap, like moldy bread.

Two damned decades scrubbing the decks o' that lump of flotsam beside his grey kin, the Dreugar, pirating and doing all other manner of ill deeds. Finery and niceties made him feel odd, not like himself, so he kept away from it. He had decided to let his customers come to him, and see for themselves the quality of his work.

And come to him they did.

Dozens of etchings lined the walls, hundreds, all cut into stencils or negatives. Layers upon layers into a single piece. On every flat surface, there were scores of stoppers of inks a plethora of colors and shades, milled down personally to provide just the right dyes from herbs bought from the local apothecary. A rack on the far wall, in this room, held his tools; a variety of vicious looking implements. In other hands, they could have been used to torture.

There was a large seat, dead center, a folded wool blanket the only cushioning. Rather than sit straight, the way it was built, a person mostly lay down, legs flat, bent up at the waist.

The scant torchlight kept the room in a constant murk, hardly noticeable to his dark-attuned eyesight, making it all the more morbid, macabre, and all those other fancy words they used to describe a place that set a mighty chill in yer bones.

They didn't mind. They didn't care.

With his art; marking the skin of others for coin, which had won him his freedom in the first place, he made a decent living here in Cormyr. The detail, color, and quality of his tattoos had won him accolade and respect in a land that only gave either o' those things to Humans.

Even if he didn't look it. His leather apron and sleeveless, threadbare tunic were practically his uniform, and he only bothered to wash his hands for the sake of his work. He also boiled everything he stuck anyone with, to prevent infection.

Sailors, looking to mark themselves after their ship.

Noblemen, trying to get something exotic and sophisticated to impress their lass. Or the other way around.

Hells, the higher ranking Purple Dragons had commissioned a crest, and that had kept him swimming in coin for over a year!

He broke fast in here, as was his wont, the fireplace burning low, just how he wanted it.

Cold soup, and an ale. A proper breakfast.

It was the seventh hour. Bright and early.

His first appointment would be here soon.

It was an odd thing, but every now and again, some fool came up here with another man's work, wanting to be rid of it. He was happy to oblige. If they came by looking to take his work off, he stuck his boot right up their arse, sending 'em on their way.

But this time it weren't his work. The order came from the coinlasses over at Teneth's. Said they wanted him to needle off a slaver's brand, and the iron rings of Skullport.

They'd offered him a hundred crowns. He'd taken the job for free.

He eyed the patch of flesh where he'd carved his off with a kitchen knife, wincing at the memory. He owed it to anyone who'd gone through what he had.

There was a knock on his door.

"Let yerselves in!" he snapped, swallowing down the last of his meal.

There was a basin of water, bubbling from the heat of the fire. He took it off, doused his needles, then his knives, and then, when it stopped bubbling so much, his hands.

The painful heat softened his calluses, and got him right and lively.

"Aye. Right then, now-"

He turned, found a blue lizard-thing in his shop, who looked right back at him with wide, terrified eyes a shade somewhere between violet and pink.

"What in the 'ell."

"Peace, Sir Olin." Nihn, the lass he had marked with a plumed crane o'er a month ago, quickly remarked, "We're your appointment. Well, my friend here is. Olin, meet Kaileena."

"Ohayō gozaimasu."

"Hi-oh? Speak bloody common, you slippery lookin'..."

He stopped, as she started to slink away. He figured she was scared, shiverin' like she was, where he was only startled. Little thing, too.

Where in the 'ell did they find these sorts?

He held his hands up, "A'right, a'right. Kaileena, was yeh? You the one be gettin' some ink taken off?"

She nodded, pulling off part of her cloak.

It was then he realized she was wearing that same garb as the coinlasses. Guess she was a new recruit.

But yep. There it were.

Most of the scabbing had healed, but he clearly saw the rings of Skullport on her upper bicep. Another symbol. Not sure what. Whoever had bought her, most like.

"A spell won't do yeh?"

"My skin eats magic." Kaileena told him, "No spell can touch me, unless it manifests physically, like a wall of blades. It must be this."

"Those marks got lots o' magic in 'em. It'll be tricky."

"That's why I need you to help me. I can't...do what I need to do, with this mark. I don't want to remember..."

She looked away, and the sight of the slight lass shivering at wha'ever they done to her...

Maybe not so odd after all.

He perked up, "I'll see what I can do. Sit you down, and let me get a look-see"

She did, pupils still wide. Nihn held her hand on the other side of the chair.

Damned women.

Attuned to low lighting, he saw as clearly as a Human in broad daylight, and he easily traced the recent scar while she shivered and tried to sit still. He was already tracing the paths he would take along the edges of the mangled brand. Since it was ink, he knew he could remove it, rather than cutting the whole thing off and getting it healed some other way.

He knew the device they used to make it. He'd considered using one for his easier jobs. Like a stamp, but magic, a short prod would imprint a pre-prepared mark in boiling ink, which would sear itself to the skin, creating a temporary afterimage of burned skin.

Since this was at least a year old, he knew all he had to deal with was the ink.

His course decided, he gathered his effects, setting them on a tray that he placed on a stool by the seat.

Olin selected a fine tattooist's needle with a thick grip and a powerfully enchanted ink, intended to remove any markings, no matter how old. Knowing how such things could be enchanted themselves, the better to track the poor sods marked, the ink he was going to use also carried a powerful disruptive effect, the better to neutralize latent magic.

Needle ready, he left it primed, and drew a scalpel; a small, spade-shaped blade about the size of a fingernail.

"You ready, lass? I need to cut apart this scar before I can get a good look at the markings. So this is going to hurt."

Gulping, she nodded, looking away.

Nothing for it, he gripped her arm, pressing the skin to smooth it out, and made his first cut, right across the deepest mass of scab tissue.

She hissed, whimpering, but didn't move.

Again. Again. Where he cut, the skin opened easily, revealing pink flesh underneath.

He wiped her bleeding arm with clean gauze.

Now that it was mostly separated, he would be able to get at the ink hidden under the scabs. This way, all of it would be gone when it healed.

The easy part over with, Olin took his needle, and punctured the irritated skin, injecting the ink just like a quill on paper.

Other than her tongue flickering out, she didn't do anything. Nihn held her hand all the harder.

He didn't work quick. He worked thorough. It was the best he could do for 'er.

She didn't complain, like most of the she-folk, and really, a good deal of the he-folk. She stayed right still as he drew the first arcing line. Then the next.

Where his needle passed, and ink flowed, the dark color of the brand grew fainter, lighter and lighter shades of grey. The harder he pressed, the more ink it applied, and the fainter it became.

It was like he was scrubbing it right off her skin.

It took over two hours. He had to brush the sweat off his brow more than once, and he gave himself an awful smart in biting his lower lip, a nervous habit.

About halfway through, his customer stopped shaking, though she started panting a weird, chuffing noise, kind of like a dog. Her skin went gooseflesh, but the pattern was different. It was hard to say exactly how. Her eyes were closed, clamped shut.

Gradually, so gradually, the ruined brand became little more than a series of disjointed outlines, and then, tracing over the edges, they too faded away.

Her arm was a ruin, but not a drop of ink remained. Her skin, while puffy and inflamed, bore no traces of the mark.

Kaileena, maybe a shade paler blue than before, opened her eyes, and the red circles under them looked thicker than before.

"Here, Kaileena. Drink." Nihn said gently, offering a thin vial with an opened stopper.

She let Nihn pour it down her throat, too weak to drink it herself, and immediately the wound began to close itself, flesh re-knitting with an alchemical agent possessed of magic but manifesting physically.

Just like the lass said.

A little more hale, Kaileena drank a second, and then a third.

By the time she finished the third, the scar was no more, her arm as bare as it was on the day of her birth. Or maybe hatching. All that was left was a patch o' angry red, like a sunburn.

"There. It be done, then." Olin said gruffly, patting the girl on the back, "As far's anyone knows, you never 'ad it at all. Now yeh go ahead 'n let me know if you want any of me work on yer flesh. I promise it won't be so unpleasant; I'm a proper artist with a knife, you know."

Admiring his handiwork, animated as she hadn't been since coming in, the Lizardfolk lass smiled faintly, but shook her head, "Thank you, but no. No needle will ever touch this skin again. But I will give you a few weeks of my earning as a show of gratitude."

"Not a chance, lass. I'll always be happy to scrub off a slaver brand. Lot easier 'n cutting er off, like I did n' you tried to. Now out with you! I got's plenty more appointments today."

...

He didn't find her in the bunkhouse.

Zolin had decided to surprise her with breakfast at the eighth hour, which had long gone cold in the basket he'd carried over. Scrambled egg, with peppercorn and a herbal chutney he'd started a day prior, stored in a waxed paper wrapping.

She hadn't come back last night.

By the tenth hour, he was pacing outside the bunkhouse, torn between calling for the guards and trying to explain his worry over a mere hunch, and rushing through all of Suzail to look for her personally.

Had she been mugged in the street? Had she left the city?

Maren told him Kaileena hadn't given any indication of where she was going yesterday.

"Blessed Amaunator." he cursed, "May nothing have happened to her..."

"Zolin?"

He jumped practically out of his skin, turning abruptly.

There she was, walking out of a west-leading alleyway, a confused expression on her face. Her cloak, a finely threaded linen affair, was new. And the strange, sleeveless gown she wore. A patch of red, inflamed tissue marred her upper arm. But it was Kaileena herself that looked so different.

She motioned to the basket before he could figure out exactly why.

"Was that for me?"

"I...um...yes. It was."

She blanched, again the timid creature he had met in the alley on that first day.

"Oh...I'm sorry, I wasn't here. I..."

She smiled, wearily, "I found work. They let me stay there for the night."

In the midst of his shock, it took a moment to parcel that out.

He beamed, "Well done, my friend. Is that your uniform, then?"

"...Yes. I'm so sorry, Zol. I didn't think you would be out here like this. I would have come sooner."

"Nonsense. You probably needed the rest. Who gave you the job?"

She clutched her arm with the inflamed skin, stiff.

"Lady Gaelyse, the proprietor of Teneth's."

"Teneth's? I don't remember a-"

Oh.

"It's not like that." She hastily added, tail flicking nervously, "I serve drinks, and dance. Only dance. I'm not...to do the other things..."

He grinned, "Teneth's, huh? Isn't Gaelyse also a priestess?"

"Yes. Of Sune."

"Ahh. That explains it. Well, that's all well and good. We follow the gods in our own ways. Did they give you that mark?"

She tightened her grip on her arm, impulsively, then hissed, drawing her hand back as it brushed against the irritated skin.

"They removed a mark."

"You were tattooed? You didn't strike me as the type."

"I'm not." she replied dryly, looking away, "It wasn't something I had put on willingly."

"I'm sorry..."

"It depicted a lashing serpent. That of the dark god Sseth, patron to the Yuan-ti." she said, her eyes distant, "He made me bear it after he..."

She paled, wavering on her feet. The change in her demeanor was so complete, so abrupt, he was sure she'd faint.

"That doesn't matter anymore." She finally replied, breathing deeply, "It's in the past."

He heard the lie.

"Of course." he said anyway, "There I go again, getting you all worked up. I don't mean to."

"You don't really try. My life has proven a lodestone for traumatic events. I can hardly lace up my shoes without recalling some horror that I've gone through."

Well, at least she's joking about it.

"Oh yes...the lacing of shoes is a traumatic event for us all. The toe jam, you see."

She laughed, and he was left stunned.

Had she never laughed until now? He definitely would have remembered.

There was music in her voice when she laughed. It lit up her face, even as she tried to cover it with her hand, bashful.

"I need to go talk to Maren." She finally said with a chortle, "Then I can see what you have for me. I promise not to keep for too long."

With that, she went through the door, and left him standing in the street again, alone and more bewildered than when she had arrived.

Damned women.

Chapter 7

Teneth's, Suzail (15th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Kaileena exhaled deeply, waiting for the drumbeat.

She stood very still, alone on the stage, barefoot, her hands intertwined above her head, head cocked, legs rigid.

A single strike, a resounding thud.

"It was fine." she told herself, "You've practiced this so many times."

The drum was struck again, and on near-instinct, a brief motion started from her ankle, up to her waist, flicking her long, shapely tail; a gyration that stopped dead as silence returned, punctuated by the ringing of the little charms across her belt and sash.

Boom. Again, that motion. Again, they rang.

Boom. Again, that motion. Again, they rang.

A small viol issued a high, keening peal, played by a thin, narrow bow. Its pattern was irregular, but with practiced ease, she timed her undulations with its difficult melody, lowering one hand into a flourish, as her waist and hips began to sway. Her tail, as much a part of the dance as the rest of her, lashed slowly, languidly, and she closed her inner eyelids, nearly closing her eyes entirely, privy only to herself and the music. So complete was her concentration, she could no longer see the spectators.

A four-stringed lute provided a secondary, more regular melody, and a tambourine and a set of finger cymbals provided a rhythmic beat, as did the heavy, goatskin drum that provided the resounding boom.

Entering a more energetic stage of her dance, Kaileena alternated between the lower half of her body and the upper, hands and arms forming graceful patterns that mystified and bewildered, seemingly folding into themselves and into near-nothingness, before extending anew and repeating the process at slightly higher elevations.

As her hands again rose above her head, Kaileena twirled, her waist and tail propelling her, feet almost leaving the floor, spiraling a near three-hundred and sixty degrees, before her feet touched down, alternating between one foot nearly flat, the other raised up, only the tips of her toes holding it up. Her tailed snapped to the right, then the left, and she gyrated her waist and hips, elbows rigid, but slowly bending inward, palms facing left and right, fingers intertwined.

Minutes passed, and the song ebbed, during which she repeated her basic motions, before the music began picking back up.

As she separated her hands, Kaileena leaned back, bending her back at an angle nearly impossible for anyone save a contortionist, and touched the floor, palms flat, while balancing on her toes.

Inhaling, Kaileena balanced solely on her hands, lifting her feet, slowly, so slowly, up into the air.

Her back now facing she crowd, she heard, but did not see, as Humans whispered amongst themselves, and a few clapping hands punctuated the music.

Exhaling, Kaileena pushed her head, then neck, then shoulders forward, through the gap in her arms, to look upon them again.

Slowly, so slowly, she bent her arms at the elbows, and inched down, to lay on her belly, twisting her arms in such a way that as she slithered forward, completing the motion, she could snap her arms back into a rigid position, before her knees and feet touched ground.

More approving whispers, more applause.

Good. It had taken her a week of constant stretches and exercises to nail that move down. If she hadn't been so nimble already, so flexible, it would have been nearly impossible.

Now only the percussion played, expectant.

Now kneeling, Kaileena waited as a pair of female dancers, who would compete the performance beside her, danced about the curtains, repeated her earlier moves in perfect unison, and then somersaulted onto spaces before and to the side of her, twirled, and offered a hand each.

All the instruments picked back up.

Rising with their help, she drew upon even more energetic techniques, more sensuous and suggestive, more playful and aggressive. Intertwining with and about them, one motion beget another, they danced, separated, and drew each other back in, in intricate gestures with hand or foot.

It might have made her blush, this display, had she not done it hundreds of times in practice.

At one point, she again bent back onto fours, belly up, and one, and then the other somersaulted over her. The second dancer, Renda, turned, bent back, and then onto her, hands on her belly, feet in the air. For one of her height, she was surprisingly easy to bear aloft.

The other dancer, Muire, slid under her, parallel, and as Renda bent her legs forward to touch down, on the other side from where she had begun, Muire was there, her body a step down, onto floor-level, completing the stunt.

Kaileena, now bearing only her own weight, found her feet, then Muire, and they bowed to the applauding onlookers, hand about each other's waists as they did.

Panting, Kaileena hid her fatigue behind a smile, and walked off stage with the others, spent.

Better. Much better.

Cirsi will bite her sharp tongue at this, at least for a few days.

She went to the dressing room, and slipped out of her dancer's garb, and into her Suneite gown. The others had to wash themselves, but since she had no sweat glands, she was more than ready to retire.

Determined to offer Gaelyse a drink first as a show of thanks, she found her talking to an elderly gentleman near the corner, on an elevated platform closed from view.

She kept her distance, smiling as she read their body language, and knew they wouldn't appreciate an interruption.

"Two of whatever they're drinking. On my salary." Kaileena whispered to a server whose name she hadn't memorized yet, before picking a spot near the stage. The next performance would be in a few minutes, and she had time to sup.

She heard the tenth bell outside, and frowned.

Zol was usually back at the abbey by then. He wouldn't be stopping by.

Sad, but more than seemed reasonable, Kaileena ordered some lentil soup and some flatbread to dip it in, brooding. She hadn't seen him often; dancing, and performing her other duties left her exhausted. Gaelyse paid by the hour, so she'd kept regular eleven hour shifts, and slept enough to keep fit. That hadn't left much time for him.

Gaelyse had offered her vacation time, and having only spent a couple of weeks here, Kaileena had refused it. The lady had already done enough at her own expense.

Men and women lounged in the main area beside her, drinking, flirting, and whispering in hushed, conspiratorial tones. A few of them eyed her, but in lingering fashion, and not out of curiosity.

Like most nights, when she would be offered food, drink, and...umm...invitations, she did like she always would. Smile, shake her head, and politely decline. Lacking a scarf, her place here was clear, as were her limitations, but that didn't stop some.

Still...everyone all seemed so happy. She felt a little left out.

"Guardian?" she whispered in her native tongue, under her breath, "Are you there?"

His lamp was under her bed, down in the staff quarters, just close enough as to not trigger their proximity link.

"Yes, Little Fox." he replied in her head, "Is everything alright?"

Thoughtful, Kaileena considered her reply, "I just had a question. You know just about everything, right? Do you think I should...ask Zol to come in here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you know, not to bed anyone. Would that sound weird?"

"I don't know the customs of these lands." Guardian replied, "The extent of my geographical and sociopolitical knowledge ended at Thay. Why don't you just ask him what you really want to ask him?"

Stricken, Kaileena nodded to the server when her food arrived, and idly swirled a strip of bread into it, "I don't even know if he thinks of me in that way."

"You won't know until you ask."

"I guess, but I'd hate to scare him away. And then there's still...the mark Olin couldn't remove."

"Vows made to gods can be broken."

"To Sseth, it doesn't matter if I want to break that vow. He holds me in his sway regardless."

"You are employed in a temple. Swear allegiance to their god. A god can repel another god much more easily, especially far outside of their sphere of influence. Or you can ask Gaelyse. She's a chosen."

"A chosen? Never mind. I don't think I could...perform the rites."

"You don't think you can? Or you don't want to?"

Eyeing the spot where she knew Gaelyse was, Kaileena shivered, "I don't know. I never really had a choice in offering myself. But they don't seem to mind."

"You can try another god."

"I haven't felt the stirrings of another god."

He paused. His confusion reverberated across their mental link.

"You have felt Sune?"

"I think so. This place has an energy about it." Kaileena said around another sip of lentil, "I can feel it like a current, pressing against me. It is native to me...but not yet of me. I can't explain it better than that."

"Oh Guardian...it feels wonderful. It feels like every good moment with my family that I can remember. It feels like love. I want to give back...but I don't know if I can bear it."

"Then don't. If Sune is asking for something you can't give, then she's no better than Sseth."

Nodding, though he wasn't there to see it, Kaileena finished her meal, set the platter by the bar, and went for the stairs.

She passed Gaelyse, who was in the arms of her visitor.

But the lady's eyes were focused on her, and her face was pinched, her frown thoughtful.

Kaileena quickly looked away, and found her room, and her bed.

...

It was just a gift for a friend. It was just a gift for a friend.

Zolin told himself this over and over again as he walked to the nicer market along the western side of Suzail.

Just a gift, for a friend. She's gone through a great deal, and this would make her feel better.

He'd commissioned them a few days ago, when he had the proper measurements. And now that they were ready, he'd hand over the gold; over a month of back-pay for healing and overseeing the battlements.

Just a gift, for a friend. It didn't need to be misinterpreted.

He fancied he could still feel that playful little peck on his forehead, and the spot on his nose where hers had touched his. He could no longer deny what she stirred in him, but he didn't know how to address it.

She was foreign; likely, those peculiar affectations were just friendly greeting in her homeland. Some odd custom. If he said anything, she would just look at him, confused.

Surely, she hadn't meant in that way...

He was Human, and she was...

Whatever she was. He didn't really care, and that was the crux of the matter. He didn't care.

He'd never asked a girl to share a meal before she had landed beside him on that crowded street. Not once in his twenty-seven winters on this world. He'd definitely never thought to share a picnic with one before, or bring her breakfast. And now here he was, doing all of those things, as effortlessly as reciting his prayers to Amaunator. And he found himself wanting to do a great deal more.

He'd said he liked her. And he did. A great deal, and a great deal more than he was letting on.

Sooner or later, Zolin knew he'd slip up, say something foolish, and she'd never look at him in the same light again.

Gods, what a mess.

When he reached his destination, inspected the work, and paid handsomely, not bothering to haggle, he kept telling himself that.

Just a gift for a friend. Just a gift for a friend.

...

She slept well.

But this morning, rather than her usual morning ritual, Nihn had asked her to convene in a small room in the lower levels. It was small, but richly adorned, with a pair of fountains on either side, a massive bed in the center; a cushion of feather down and piled high with decorative pillows and silken sheets in the shades of yellow, gold, and red. Draping curtains, to disguise the fact that it was underground. Modest lighting by red candle on gilded sconces.

It could have been no more than a luxury suite, were it not for the idol on the mantle against the far wall, surrounded by a circular moat fed by a small fountain. It was a waist-height marble statue of a woman, her luxurious, flowing hair expertly painted red. About her neck, was the impression of an amulet, its setting an actual spinal cut in sunburst.

Gaelyse, a Half-Elf maiden named Irith, and several others she had not formally introduced herself to lounged about the room, expectant.

Only Gaelyse was standing, just before the idol.

"Good morning, Gaelyse-Sama."

"Likewise. You can relax, child."

Confused, she nonetheless did as bidden, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Gaelyse sat beside her, their proximity too close to be merely informal.

"I wanted to talk with you about what has brought you here." she started, a hand on her lap, her voice velvety and filled with an almost motherly concern, "I want to know what caused you to leave your home, and then Turmish."

What normally might have caused her to draw inward, only left her feeling soiled. She sighed, feeling more alone then she had in her entire life, "It really isn't something I like to talk about. Do I have to?"

Gaelyse nodded, "In this, I fear I must insist. You are hurting. Anyone can see that. I want to know specifically why. I want to know how I can help you, and help you I can."

"So I can bed men for you?"

"So you can be free to do whatever you choose."

"Why do you care?" Kaileena replied, more sharply than she meant to.

Gaelyse frowned, hurt, "You know exactly why, child. I feel in you a kindred spirit, and I want to do what I can to see you blossom. It is my duty to Sune, to heal those in pain, and to spread the love of our sisterhood. I see you here, every day, performing your tasks and more without being explicitly asked to do so. You do everything you can for this house, and you are content...but not happy. There is something you want, something that is missing in your life. I feel like you...wish to be like us, not a mere employee, or a ley-worshiper, but perhaps...more?"

"I see Zolin and the joy he finds in his faith..." Kaileena admitted, abashed, eyes on her lap, "I do want to feel something like that, but..."

"But?"

She paused, searching for the words, before, "My experiences make it difficult. I have a hard time opening myself in this way. I find the world a cruel place, undeserving of such trust."

"There is light, and there is darkness." Gaelyse admitted, "But one day, perhaps, it could only flourish outside of mortal hearts. By spreading Sune's love, by offering ourselves to love, and loveliness, we play our part in the betterment of this world, beside those of other goodly gods."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it."

"Prove me wrong."

"I can't." she replied easily, "It's true."

"Then endure, beside us. Cherish what is and what can be, love yourself and open yourself to love of others, be it in body or in spirit, and accept what you cannot change."

"I want to."

"Tell me, Kaileena. Tell me everything, so you can overcome it. So you can heal."

"Say the word, and you will be gone from here..." Guardian whispered in her mind, "You don't have to do this..."

But she did. If not for her mistress, than for herself. She felt moisture on her cheeks.

"I...Gaelyse..."

She squeezed her hand, "Yes, child."

Her eyes watered, "Will you stay, afterward?"

"Of course, child."

"How you cormyreans draw back the layers of my past, one by one. It must be a cultural talent."

She frowned, torn.

"Alright."

She told them everything she had told Zol; her life in Teikoku, the foreigners, and her escape with Guardian.

Then...she told them what she hadn't told Zol.

...

Eleint, 1481 Dalereckoning

She camped in the woods, certain that villager had caught a glimpse of her skin. With the thick calfskin boots and gloves she wore, her feet were covered, as were her hands, but the scarf and hood only concealed so much.

The way his eyes went wide, she knew he had seen something.

It paid to be safe, even if Rashemi were used to seeing odd things. Traversing through even the borders of their country made that abundantly clear. The air felt odd here; there was a telltale charge in the air, like static. The spirits were restless, ever restless, and agitated by her presence. She had kept her lamp close, the connection to Guardian constant, as she made her way through the forests of impenetrable pine.

Her fire burned low, coals smoldering to keep wolves and...other things at bay. Her cloak she used as a bedroll, her pack a place to rest her head.

Her meal, plain rice, she left to cool, having used Guardian's lamp to steam it. He hadn't minded his physical medium being used in that way, and it was the best tool she had at the moment to prepare food and tea.

Curling into a ball, she closed her eyes, determined to get what rest she could in this strange land.

Hopefully, the next nation she found would be more welcoming...and warmer.

"Good night, Guardian."

"Good night, Little Fox."

He had taken to calling her that. Small, and clever, like a fox. The name amused her, and it fit. Just under five feet tall and very thin, she lived among giants even at the age of roughly fifteen.

Nodding off, she surrendered herself to the strange dreams she had every night since entering Rasheman.

...

Even though she was asleep, far too deeply to understand anything she heard or felt, Guardian was also privy to her sensations, and, night and day, he was wide awake.

That was how he heard the sounds first.

A faint rustling in the wind. A soft exhalation. Fingers, engaging in brief, swift movements.

Signals.

"Little Fox..." he warned, and she twisted in bed, opening her eyes.

Through them, he saw a flash of light.

A mirror. Another signal.

Kaileena rose, staff in hand, and she gasped, as something struck her with a wet thud.

Dazed, she looked down to her chest, at the dart imbedded there.

"Run, Kaileena!" he snarled, but instead she stumbled. She looked to her hands, finding them surrounded by rippling purple fire.

Poison. A magical poison, absorbed by her natural ability.

One of her attackers revealed himself, walking gracefully out from behind one of the trees. So practiced, so predatory, were his footsteps, that he looked more a hunting cat than something that walked on two legs.

But he was no Human either. Far too thin, too lithe, he was clothed in form-fitting armor of black mail, a rippling cloak about his shoulders that shimmered with many colors, his skin was black as coal, his hair, white as freshly fallen snow.

An Elf. A Drow Elf.

"Iblith..." he whispered, grinning. Offal. Privy to nearly every language, Guardian knew this word clearly.

He signaled to others, in a series of intricate hand gestures. Reporting that she had resisted their poison. Somewhat.

"How fortunate for us..." he continued in his native tongue, a modified form of Elvish, "That you resisted. That poison was meant to kill...but now that I see you up close, you're far too unique to kill. Too valuable."

Drooling, Kaileena stumbled, tried to cast a spell, and failed. But she stubbornly remained on her feet.

"What uninteresting slaves we found on this run." the Drow mused, eyeing her in a way Guardian found he intensely resented, "But you...you are something we've never seen before. You'll fetch a fine price as someone's pet."

"Let me cast through you. We can do this."

Nodding, Kaileena started to cast again.

And this time, she completed her incantation, connecting them more fully. Guardian immediately drew the poison from her blood with flesh-shaping magic, gathering it in an area in her body where it wouldn't reach her brain. She sobered in a heartbeat.

The Dark Elf tensed. More darts flew. They repelled them with a cone of telekinetic force, all the while beginning the threads of a powerful conjuration.

Tenebrous mist, akin to that of his own essence, filled the small glade, extinguishing the fire. Within that mist, long, narrow shafts of crystal began to form.

"Take it down..." the Dark Elf hissed, drawing glassy steel the color of obsidian.

A field of dispelling magic covered them, warred with the conjuration they were casting.

They had a wizard.

Kaileena completed the spell, and a pair of shimmering, translucent serpentine creatures manifested within the crystals of ice, binding to them and animating them into rudimentary blades. As if wielded by phantom duelists, the blades thrust and swung at the Dark Elf, who snarled, and parried both with consummate skill. Two others crept in from behind, but privy also to the visual sensations of their conjured minions, Guardian saw them plain as day. Kaileena struck at each, with a concentrated thrust of telekinetic force, shattering a kneecap each.

They tumbled, screaming.

More darts, fired from small crossbows. Together, they repelled three, two caught in her cloak, but a third struck her in the thigh. She stumbled, fell to a knee.

The wizard finally tired of his attempts to cancel out their magic, so he attacked directly. A firebolt raced through the forest, hurling towards them at blinding speed.

Kaileena held out her hand.

And on impact, her arm surged with purple fire, as her body absorbed the magic in the spell.

But she also hissed in pain, as her skin blistered, riddled with second-degree burns.

And that was time enough for the Dark Elf battling with the swords to hurl himself through them, still unscathed, and land a hard knee to Kaileena's chin. Her vision starry, she tumbled back, dazed.

Their concentration faltered.

The wizard cast again, and the phantom blades winked out of existence, as did the protection from the poison. Kaileena rolled to her side, foaming at the mouth, and succumbed. Her heartbeat grew faint.

Though she was unconscious, Guardian watched on, helpless, as the Dark Elf loomed over her, considering something.

Reaching a decision, he rifled through her pack, and seized the lamp.

"More magic." he sneered, "Damned bothersome wizards. If you would see fit to bind her, Master Thar'and."

The wizard stepped out as well. Clothed in similar armor that nonetheless sported multiple bandoliers and belts, loaded with wizardly components, he eyed her with open disdain, "It will be tricky. I can sense an aura about her. Absorbing magic is something she can do even while unconscious. How odd."

Shaking his head, he withdrew a small ring from a belt pouch. Fastening onto her finger, he twisted it, and it snapped, tightening to painful levels.

"That should keep her from accessing foreign magic. That is, magic not native to her own body. Never once did she use a ritual spell, and not once did she need a reagent. I wager it came from that trinket there."

No.

No...

"Good. And she's still alive, so I can justify using these." the lead drow replied, brandishing a pair of glass vials, sealed with white cork and wax, "Hold a moment. I will see to Rend and Draxun."

The wizard nodded gruffly, stroking his thin, finely combed goatee, incongruous on a beardless Elf.

Binding her wrists with cord, he also tied a rudimentary muzzle, and fastened it about her snout, pulling it to test its tightness.

"That should do. Treasure these moments of rest, creature. Wakefulness will be no boon, where you are going..."

...

Kaileena felt numb, unable to move. But she felt her body move, felt someone strike her, though it didn't hurt.

Not at first.

Then, she heard the spokes of a wheel, a hiss, from something large.

She opened her eyes, and what she saw was too blurry to make out. What she could tell was that it was dark. Very dark. There was a steady drip, and the air was moist. She smelled earth. And salt.

She was beside other bodies. Warm bodies. She tried to speak, and heard a wet gurgle.

Someone said something, in words she knew not, their voice sullen and despondent.

She was able to flex a finger. Another. She made a fist, then pressed it against the ground.

Iron. Very cold.

She started to lift herself, blinking, still unable to see.

The body pressed against her inched away.

Her vision cleared. There was a faint rippling flame, a nonetheless bright vermillion shade. It was outside of the bars of a cage, a cube about the dimensions of a small wagon. Actually, it was atop a wagon, and led by massive lizards, which hissed and snapped at each other while they were tethered to a conjoining set of straps and harnesses. Guiding the lizards was a Drow Elf, which she didn't remember, with the Drow that had struck her and another robed Drow, probably the wizard, as passengers.

They were being carted down a narrow tunnel, towards a dead end.

She reached for her pack, failed to find it. Her kimono was gone, as was her cloak and footwear; all she wore was the thin shift that always lay underneath the kimono.

"Guardian?" she asked, her voice muffled by the bindings over her mouth, calling out to her familiar.

No response.

"Guardian?!" she asked again, warranting a sharp glance from the Drow in the lead.

One of the two that followed behind the cart, armed with crossbows, snapped at the cage with leather scourges, and Kaileena drew back a bloodied hand, shrieking.

They weren't slowing. There was nowhere to go...

But the dead end, characterized only by a carved arch of marble, not native to the sandstone around it, began to glow. The runes about the arch flared red, and became painfully bright, forcing her to look away.

The others in the cage, all Humans; two young women, a middle-aged man, and two teenage boys, cowered, as the wizard snapped his fingers, and the space inside the arch shimmered, like glass, and became transparent, revealing the dim reflection of a tunnel beyond.

Now slowing, they approached the arch, and began to pass through it. For a moment, she couldn't see again. The scents about her changed radically.

Assaulted by the combined odor of rotting flesh, leather, sweat, dung, fungus, and blood, she gagged.

Finding herself inside of a large tunnel, complete with mining tracks, the wagon came to a halt, amid a horde of emaciated, green skinned monsters. With drooping faces, thick fangs, and faintly pointed ears, they looked like the depictions of lesser oni. Now she too cowered, certain they would overwhelm the Drow and tear them all to pieces.

But they backed away from the Dark Elves, nervously, unarmed. She realized they weren't attacking.

Another creature, like a Human but short and thick, with dark, ashy skin, a long, ragged beard, and red eyes, shouted and cursed at them, cracking a whip, before approaching the wagon, and sharing a few, hushed words with the Dark Elves.

The lead Drow, smiling, handed the half-man a key, and it, and a trio of its fellows, themselves armed with long poles tipped with blunt fork-like protrusions, rounded on the cage.

Everything happened quickly.

The door opened, and a creature on each side thrust their odd staff-things into the cage. When one struck her, her skin erupted in purple fire, but the Humans screamed, as hundreds of tiny threads of lightning passed from the staves and into the skin. They panicked, forcing her forward, and she pitched over the wagon and onto the ground.

Air pushed from her lungs, Kaileena gasped as the half-man in front clubbed her, then pressed her to the ground. She felt her hands being pulled together, and cold iron closing over them. A sharp clink retorted as the iron fastened.

Hauled to her feet, for the creature possessed prodigious strength, Kaileena stumbled, dazed, as she fell forward, and then into something made of wood. In the breadth of seconds, she had been guided beyond the wagon and onto a mining cart, and the other Humans followed suit.

Except for the oldest man. He fell to the ground, and the creatures pummeled him, kicking at his midsection and head. After a few moments one of them crushed his windpipe, as the teenagers screamed out a word, his name, maybe. They kept screaming it long after he coughed blood, choked, and then lay very still.

The Drow said something over the din, rich with sarcasm, and the half-man replied sharply, picking up his body and hurling it into the cart with them. Staring dimly at his glazed eyes, Kaileena felt her body shaking, as the two boys cradled the man in their arms, weeping.

Oh, where was she? Where were they?

The green skinned fiends began to push the cart forward, leering and clawing at all of them.

She sported many cuts by the time the cart passed through the tunnel and into an open cave larger than any she thought could exist.

Like an open mouth, the cavern opened into a lake. An island, no more than rubble, loomed in the distance, ahead of the city itself, and she knew it was a city, though it looked more like an extended sewer. Lichen and mold clung to every surface, the darkness only partially dispelled by a multitude of floating spheres, like tiny suns. She saw sodden, decrepit shacks stacked upon one another like building blocks, scaling down towards the lake and connected by rope drawbridges connected so intricately they looked like a web.

They were led along its highest ridge, down into its limits. At the end of the railing, the cart came to a halt, before a mix of Humans, the grey half-men, and other beings she didn't know.

The stink became overpowering.

Pulled from the cart, she and the others were bound together in linking chains, which connected to her shackles, and more restraints were placed onto her feet. Barefoot, the stone and iron sucked the warmth from them almost instantly.

Their poking and prodding, cursing and shouting, became too much. Most of her mind closed over in terror. Alone, even from Guardian, stripped almost nude and lacking access to her spells, the only thing keeping her moving was the chained Human behind her, a woman, and the threat of the prods, for they too had the odd shock staffs.

Again she felt one strike her, but no pain, only more purple fire, followed by a thrust of a very mundane stave into her underbelly, doubling her over.

She briefly saw the dead man being pulled from the screaming boys, and hauled onto a slab, where they, in plain sight, began cutting him open with practiced ease and horrifying calmness.

They were butchering him...carving him up like a beast.

Her head forced away, a pair of Humans pulled on the chain connecting to her wrists, drawing her along.

Again and again, she stumbled, fell, was pulled forcefully to her feet, and then stumbled anew, disoriented.

"Guardian?!" she cried, "Guardian?!"

To no avail.

Their group pressed forward. The stone became damp, slippery.

A loud clang issued from behind them, and the leading Humans looked over her shoulder, perplexed.

The group came to a halt.

Turning, Kaileena saw her lamp, Guardian's lamp, laying in the middle of the scum-riddled street.

"Guardian!" she shrieked, desperate as she had ever been in her life, but it remained quiescent. She couldn't feel him. She couldn't feel him!

A Human in the rear picked up the lamp, shrugging, and they pressed forward, lamp in tow.

The buildings gradually sloped down, forming a rudimentary L-shaped pattern. More lines of shackled Humans and Humanoids were led, both down into the city and back up the way they had come. The absolute hopelessness in their eyes brought fresh panic.

"Guardian!"

And still...nothing.

For how long they walked, she couldn't say, but eventually they reached a large warehouse, near the water. Inside, it was filled with stink and panicked voices.

Cages lined the walls, packed with assorted beings. Sorted by species, they all cowered and screamed. As they passed the cells, she noticed a mark on their arms; a black sequence of hollow circles.

They stopped before one of the desks along the center of the warehouse, several desks already attended by filthily clad Humans and lines of captives. Behind their desk was a thin, pale Human with sodden robes and a cool, collected expression. His eyes studied her intensely, forcing her to look away.

She knew what was happening. Her mind just couldn't process it.

The robed man exchanged quick words, writing something down on parchment. Maybe a ledger.

Then, he stood up, and approached her directly.

Pulling away from her chains as he brushed his hand against her, it took all of her effort to remain upright.

"Please, no more..."

He said a short phrase, and with precise motions gained through practice, they cut apart her shift, and tore it away.

Exposed, beyond sense, she trembled, then hissed, snapping at him. Were it not for her muzzle, she would have bitten his hand.

He backhanded her. Hard.

A much longer sentence, and the Humans detached the linking chains with an audible click.

They dragged her behind his desk, to a basin of bubbling black fluid. A few lengths of iron protruded from it, their tips glowing red.

She tried to fight them, instinct overcoming sense, screaming for her Guardian, as they doused her with water, and pressed that hot iron into her arm.

Her ears rang. She felt herself urinate, and go limp, screaming...

...

She woke in a cell all her own, pressed against the corner, the robed Human watching her from outside the bars.

"Can you understand me?" he asked in perfectly accented Nihongo, startling her.

Numbly, she nodded, eyeing her arm, which, about blistered skin, that same black sequence of rings now lay.

"I am speaking to you via ritual spell, since you lack understanding of common or any other tongue in this fetid pit. I am Erfini Zin." he continued, " You are now the property of the Iron Ring. More specifically, you are my property. Do you understand."

Even though she didn't, she nodded.

He smiled, "Good. You please me. I selected you from the block because I have a specific use in mind for you. You aren't any species in our directory, and believe me, our database is expansive indeed. You're too weak for physical labor, too outlandish for a brothel, and too illiterate for paperwork, so I've wracked my brain on what to do with you."

He held Guardian's lamp.

"A brilliant alchemist bid for you." Erfini said with a chuckle, "A good price. He was convinced he could harvest your spell-eating ability by drawing your blood. All of it. An Illithid also made me an offer, to study your lamp. He probably would have killed you, the better to sever the connection that keeps it within proximity to you. If I were to guess, he, in Illithid fashion, would have eaten your brain. While you still had it. That Dark Elf also made a bid, since he had been the one holding this curious little bauble when it teleported to you. Death at his hands would have been slow indeed."

"What to do? What to do? Fortunately for you, I have another use in mind, one that will keep you very much alive. I have a friend of mine, you see...well, someone I'm hoping to make a friend, up in Turmish, on the surface. I want to make a business partner, you see, a contact up above. You're going to accompany me up there, while I broker a deal with him. You're going to be the picture of feminine grace and submissiveness. So I don't sell you. So I make it easy to convince myself you're a better investment up there, than down here."

"I've done nothing wrong."

She didn't know why she said that.

Erfini chuckled, "I could give two shits what you did or didn't do. You are property, little girl, not a prisoner. And you will do what I ask, or I'll hand you over to the Mind-Flayer. See what luck you have there."

"No!" she cried, not knowing what a Mind-Flayer was but not wanting to find out, "I will do this. Please...just let me go after."

"Let you go?" he asked, perplexed, "Sure. I'll release you from my service. How's that sound?"

He would? Was it really that important to him?

"Look at it this way; I want a contact there so I can work there, not in this disgusting place. You spent all of one day in it, and you can see what I mean. I want to see the sun again. I want out of this shithole. And you're going to help me in this."

"I will do this."

There was nothing else. She had no choice.

"What of Guardian?"

"Who?"

"Umm...never mind. Can I have my lamp back after?"

Considering the trinket, he shook his head, "You won't touch this again. That'll be my second gift to my soon-to-be friend. This is the best you get, lass."

She nodded, downcast. She held the tears at bay.

"Alright. I'll do it."

...

It took days, Kaileena knew, waiting in her cell. She counted them by the single meal she received; bread and soup. If you could call it that; what meat was in that stew, she didn't want to know. She hadn't eaten it, more than suspicious they hadn't cut up that man for fertilizer...

Eventually, she had been led out of the cell, bathed in painfully hot water, and given a white cloak of soft, soft linen, and a pair of sandals that easily came off, fastened only by a strap that tied between her toes.

Without food, and without Guardian's magic sustaining her, she had lost several pounds. The belly she'd gotten before leaving home was gone, and her head felt light.

So when Erfini fed her with a half loaf, a shank of goat, and a large tankard of some manner of red liquid with the bite of saké, but lighter, she had eaten it without question.

After, he had given her strange leaves to eat, which scented her breath, and a perfume which smelled similar.

Since she hadn't been given clothing, she had a good idea what she needed to do.

Fine. If she could get herself out of this nightmare, and maybe rescue Guardian, she would do it. Then she would find some corner of the world and not meet another living thing ever again.

"Alright, then, let's go meet him. the portal should be ready now."

...

The air smelled different. Instinctively, she knew she was on the surface, albeit indoors.

It was day. And it was bright, so bright she had to close her eyes, hissing in pain.

She could hear the wind, smell the salt of the ocean, and a curious odor like shed reptilian skin.

There were pheromones too, so pungent it left her holding her nose, unable to stop her cheeks from coloring.

They walked through a small, but richly adorned fortress, its high walls reinforced by stone pillars. The windows were colored glass, depicting a snake reared to strike. The sun outside cast the room in fire.

Her skin went gooseflesh, when her vision righted itself, and she realized what she was among.

They walked like men...at least, most of them did. Some might have been men or women, were it not for their reptilian features; patches of brown or green scales, yellow eyes with thin, narrow slits, or back, narrow claws.

They milled about on stone platforms, laying prone, or standing erect beside them, armed with lances or slim blades. True Humans scurried about, bearing platters of food or pitchers of liquid. They were all collared in iron, and bore empty, despondent expressions.

With Erfini her only bastion, she held to him tightly, despite what he had done. Despite what he had said he would do.

There was no one else. There was nothing else to cleave to.

Looking back, she saw the portal; a runed arch just like the one below, just like the one the Drow had used. Mundane doorways stood to either side of it, all leading down to a floor lined with long knitted carpets.

At the end of the hall, for this was some sort of entry hall, stood a monster.

Standing not on legs, but a long tail, it looked like a cross between Human and snake, with a long snout, an armored hide of pale grey scales accented with tips of icy blue, and a beard of dangling tendrils. Broad-chested, thickly muscled, it towered over average men, and its vibrant yellow eyes were thick with menace. About its neck and head was a wide, thickly scaled hood that seemed a part of its body, giving it a crowned appearance.

It wore a breastplate of polished steel accented with gold, golden bracers, and a loincloth. On each of its fingers was a ring with a different, massive stone set in it.

About it, chained to the platform on which it lay, were two females, one like those about the room, another Yuan-ti, but another not so different from her. Lizardfolk, they were called, cloaked in dull scales. Lacking her coloration, feathers, or mammalian traits, it nonetheless hissed at her approach, though there was no initiative to it.

Each of them eyed her as she was half-led, half-dragged by her Human keeper. Bundling her cloak about her, Kaileena gasped as Erfini forced her within five paces of it, bowed, and snapped his fingers.

Her cloak dissolved into air. She yelped, covered herself with her hands, shivering.

"Malakas of the Icy Scale." he began with audible gravity, a spell altering his words to be universally recognizable, "Holy Vrael Olo, Ambassador of House Extaminos, and Lord of Chains, I have brought a tribute. A fitting gift. "

Intrigued, the monster, the abomination, but him continue, "A show of good faith, for a future of mutual profit. She is yours unto death. A new concubine."

What?

She turned, horrified, into his grinning visage, "I said I'll release you from my service. I have. You are released from my custody, and into his."

He pushed her forward, and with startling speed, Malakas caught her, turning her to face him, his hands exploring her body, his nostrils inhaling, drinking in her scent.

Not once, in her entire life, had she felt so violated. She looked away. For her sanity, she had to.

But his scent was overpowering. In some small, private part of her mind, she felt her body stir as she drank it in. That scared her even more.

Malakas replied, in a hard, but sibilant voice, in words she knew not, and Erfini bowed again, lower, "Like her, do you? I'll let you two get acquainted. And I have more."

The Yuan-ti perked up at that, though one of his hands idly rested against her belly.

Then it went lower.

He presented the lamp, "This item houses a powerful spirit. As a Priest of Sseth, I'm sure you will be able to bind it into your service. Just try not to cast on it directly, or on her. Both of them absorb magic, and neither can be taken too far from each other."

The lamp ate spells too? When had it done that?

Malakas spoke again

"We can work out the specifics at another time, my lord. You have my room?"

The serpent creature nodded, already disinterested, already studying her again.

"I leave you to it, then. Have fun, little creature."

She didn't know if he left the hall...and didn't care. The real threat was far more immediate.

Malakas hissed, and there was hunger in it.

No.

"Please, no..."

He leaned in, his tail coiling about her legs.

No...

She tried to push away, tried to do many things. Against him, against this thing, she knew she could not.

Could not...

She twisted, turned about, and with his arms, he pinned her to him, barking something gruffly. One of the Humans started, and dashed over to the platform, a platter in hand, wherein lay many small pouches of wrapped leaf.

Taking one in hand, Malakas unfolded it, displaying a white powder, clumped together.

Panicked, Kaileena moaned, pushing away from it, as a presence entered her mind.

"Guardian?"

"No." Malakas replied, "And stop fighting. You are mine, woman. Body and soul. Your choices are not your own."

She wept, trembling, clawing at the armor of his scales. They glanced off without penetrating.

"Inhale it."

"No." she cried aloud, "No!"

He hissed, angrily. Every person in the chamber tensed.

"Whether you are alive, or dead. In pleasure, or in pain, it will not be your decision to make." he continued, gripping her tightly, "It will be mine. And I offer pleasure. It isn't your choice to accept or deny. Inhale it."

No.

No...

"Now!" his voice screamed in her mind.

She breathed in, panicked, and the powder went in with the air. It burned as it went down her throat.

"Better."

Kaileena couldn't fight it. She started to cry, and as she crumpled, he coiled about her, his arms pinning her flat on her belly. She could feel something poking out from his loincloth.

She tried to scream, but already she felt...different. The colors of the room deepened, and began to blur together, warping like melting wax. Her skin tingled, then vibrated. Her ears rang.

When the Yuan-ti entered her, she screamed.

It sounded different, like twanging strings of a viol. Actually, she could hear a viol playing.

It was louder than her voice; no matter how hard she screamed, no matter how much pain she felt, she couldn't hear over the music.

...

"I was his for three years..." Kaileena continued, "When I spoke out, when I did something wrong, he would beat me. Or if I displeased him, if I didn't bow and smile right, or maybe if he was bored, he would beat me. He would give me minddust, and then withhold it for weeks, keeping my body in a chemical flux. He had a way of making you think it was your fault; make you hate yourself, so you couldn't hate him. I blame myself for my father's death; his death was my crime, as was defying my people by defying their verdicts, and this, was my punishment for both. I started to...hurt myself, and he, a priest of Sseth, would heal me. He said I was right to, that I..."

She hissed, fought the feeling, the bugs under her skin, "I was one of three, the last. The other two hated me, a Yuan-ti Pureblood who had betrayed him in some way, and a Lizardfolk, though I didn't know why, until one day. Now that he had a set of three wives, he was ready to enact a ritual...to bind us properly to Sseth."

...

Alturiak, 1485 Dalereckoning

She woke in Malakas' bedchamber, atop the stone platform, the sun blistering overhead, peeking through the open ceiling.

Not understanding why she didn't appreciate sunning like her reptilian counterparts, or why it never rained in this scalding hellhole, Kaileena rose, bathed, and knelt by the door, where she always did, to await her master. He was already awake; he always woke first, to do whatever business he had for the day. Hours later, when they were awake, he would return, and...

She shivered. In fear, or because of the aftereffects of the minddust, she couldn't say.

Shriva and Neline woke a little bit later, but didn't immediately rise, lingering in the sunlight for about an hour. Rejuvenated as she couldn't be, they knelt on either side, glaring at her all the while.

Eyes downcast, she ignored it, like she always did.

Eventually, the door opened via spell, and Malakas slithered in. Instead of his armor, he wore the vestments of his faith; a robe of the Vrael Olo, faithful of the dark god Sseth.

He made a show of considering, then, satisfied they were properly presented, he pulled them to the bed, and did as he would, to each of them.

She did her best to suffer it, without much difficulty actually, as numb as she had ever been in the Teikoku brothel.

When he was sated, he snapped his fingers, and they went to garb themselves, in immodest, jeweled garb of gauzy linen.

"Not today." he hissed in Chondathan, "Throw on a cloak each, and let us be off."

Her two peers tensed, hissing nervously, but not understanding the significance, Kaileena was left at a loss, obeying regardless.

Leaving the chamber without preamble, they rushed after him, following a maximum of four paces behind, eyes downcast, on the back of his tail.

Down the hall they went, and into the main area, his throne and court, then out the double doors, outside the fortress.

A fortress, not a palace. Outside, it was a graceless thing; hard stone, almost cubical, with battlements and walls surrounding. The lower levels, a fortress under a fortress, was where he gathered, processed, and distributed the many slaves that passed through Turmish and into Chondath. Like a miniature Skullport, it was situated among an impenetrable mountain range in the windswept deserts of Turmish, accessible only by magic; one small door in the main hall, and a much larger one in the lower reaches.

She had never seen under the fortress, and hoped she never would. Sometimes, the screams carried up...

Outside the manor, there was a wide courtyard of layered sandstone slabs, and today, it was veritably packed with Humans and Yuan-ti of all types; the small, Human-like purebloods, the more reptilian half-bloods, and the abominations, like Malakas, that were nearly entirely serpentine in form.

As she had come to understand it, the Yuan-ti revered more reptilian aspects, and as their bodies mutated depending on what other species they mated with, breeding was carefully selected, as a form of worship towards Sseth, their Serpent God who ruled over all other aspects. Above Lizard, Turtle, and Dragon, the Serpent was the dominant aspect of the wheel of life, and a symbol of Yuan-ti dominance.

It made her distantly wonder why, if the Yuan-ti could mate freely between other species, she had never been impregnated, nor the other two, in the nearly three years of captivity.

The crowd, Malakas' soldiers and servants all, gathered about the statue of Sseth, a rearing snake of marble scales and ruby eyes, its maw downcast and wide enough to bear three average Humans. A series of grooves lined the platform before the statue, leading into an empty depression, likely a pool.

Just looking at it made her uneasy.

Malakas ascended to the statue, and addressed the crowd, "Welcome, welcome. My valued subjects, my invaluable subjects. Welcome."

"The stars are right, and the day is now come." he continued, grinning about his fangs at his earlier use of flexible grammar, "In deference to tradition, and in the eyes of Holy Sseth, I am ready to declare my brides, who will now pledge themselves to Holy Sseth, to serve me in life, and in death."

In death?

What did he mean by that?

Everything was still fuzzy. The Minddust...

Suddenly, soldiers armed in mail grabbed her and the others, and dragged them up before their master. The cloak was taken somewhere in the exchange, and she stood nude, atop the platform, before the leering eyes of the crowd, beside Shriva and Neline.

"Behold, their beauty." he proclaimed, "Bask in these lesser aspects of the wheel of life, who will become vessels for my divine seed, and bring a new generation of our purest blood kin. Behold these midwives of Holy Sseth, whose souls will sustain me in the afterlife, when I am no more, and a new lord rules over this house."

Gods, what was he talking about?

She tried to pull away, but the soldier held her firm.

"To commemorate this ceremony...I have prepared a feast. A tribute to all who will observe this union. Two score fresh vessels, females and pups all, and three heretic priests for those among my private table; myself, my wives, and the man who have made this possible. Erfini...step forward."

The robed, callous, manipulative Erfini advanced up the platform. He lacked his customary sneer, and instead, looked...uneasy?

"You have scoured the lands to bring me the third female." he said in admiration, "Her beauty and innocence have made a fine tribute, and so, I have given you station among my court. And now, here, I offer you the right to join in our most holy of ceremonies."

Distinctly uneasy, he shared a look with Malakas, who looked nothing if not gloating.

Kaileena knew what was happening; Erfini didn't want any part of whatever was about to happen...but he didn't dare upset Malakas, for fear of his so-desired place on the surface, and likely, his life.

Malakas knew that, and was amusing himself over the whole thing...

"I am honored, my lord. Your generosity is unheard of, towards one of a lesser path among the wheel of life."

"Bring them, then." Malakas roared, to thunderous ovation, "Prepare my table!"

Forcing her around, the soldier brought her to the statue of Sseth, and shackled her on her knees, in its shadow.

Everything became blurry, the aftereffects of the Minddust overcoming her again. It felt like bugs were crawling under her skin. She clawed at them, drawing blood, to no avail.

Three Humans were ushered onto the platform as well. All male, they were nude, red symbols painted onto their chests; an iron gauntlet and an eye, an oak leaf, and three six-pointed stars connected by a triangle. They were chained to the inside of the serpent's maw. The ruby eyes began to glow, as if awakened by their body heat.

"Helm..." Malakas sneered, "Silvanus. Lliira. Weakling gods, for weakling Humans. Inferior to Sseth, as mammal is inferior to reptile. They will commemorate this holy ceremony, with their blood."

Drawing a kris dagger, its slithering blade ending in a snake-head hilt, Malakas cut each of them across the chest, drawing blood. They tried to fight him, screamed when the blade passed over them. One of them whispered hushed prayers, his eyes wide. He was the one looking at her, the one directly in front of her. He had a wrinkled, elderly face, his eyes and hair brown. A few days growth of beard marked his face, which, possessed of such pure horror, told her that he had not been a slave long.

Not like her. After three years of servitude to Malakas, she had no fight left in her. She stared right back into his eyes, broken.

"I'm sorry." she moaned, hoping he would understand, tears flowing, "I'm so sorry."

Placing a hand on his wound, as he had for the other two, Malakas pulled back, and wiped that blood onto her arm, above the Skullport brand. He drew more blood, into a clay bowl, and held it before her.

Looking over to Shriva and Neline, and seeing blood on their lips, she tried to struggle, but the iron wouldn't budge.

He backhanded her, splitting a lip, and forced her mouth open, snarling as the blood flowed. She tried to spit, gagged, and swallowed.

The world began to spin. The air shimmered, like waves of heat, but they were red, like blood.

"Make it stop. Make it stop!"

"World Serpent!" he cried, drinking the blood as they had, "Accept this tribute, and these six souls, three male, three female, into your realm. Bind them to me, as I am bound. Three unto life, and three unto death!"

The man still stared into her eyes. In them, there was pity, and it broke her heart.

"Accept them. Bind them. Consume them." he said, and again and again, forming a chant that the crowd repeated, deafening. "Accept them. Bind them. Consume them." "Accept them. Bind them. Consume them." "Accept them. Bind them. Consume them."

The men in the serpent's maw began to scream, as she did. Their skin began to smoke. The spot above her brand burned, as if aflame. A new symbol formed; a serpent, reared to strike.

She watched, holding his gaze, no matter how afraid she was.

Awash in pain, the man kept looking at her, his mouth pinched in a rictus of agony. His skin, drenched in sweat, began to blister, and then darken.

The maw spat fire, immolating the priests, and blanketing her face with unbearable heat.

She couldn't help it. She looked away.

Their screams silenced.

And in their wake, a new presence, like oily shadow, smothered her. She stared into the serpent's eyes, away from the charring bodies of the men, and in them, she saw such darkness that all else blurred into nonexistence.

The void spoke to her, in Malakas' voice, but filled with such malevolent intensity, she collapsed, foam lining her lips, as everything went dark.

"Mine..." it whispered in a sibilant hiss, "Mine..."

...

"I am his. Body and soul." Kaileena confessed, despondent and hopeless, "I drank of that man's blood. I...ate of that man's flesh. We all did. I looked in his eyes as he died and I...ate him..."

She couldn't weep. Everything felt numb, like she was dimly watching through another's eyes. Even Guardian was silent, his mental projections ceased.

For a time, such a time, nobody spoke.

"Child..." Gaelyse whispered, leaning into her, "Thank you very much for sharing this with me. I know this was very hard for you."

Kaileena nodded, tried to speak again.

Instead, she moaned, in hysterics.

She ate him. She ate him!

She felt other arms about her now. The other priestesses had gathered about her, and embraced her too.

When had they done that?

"And now you can heal." she continued, pressing Kaileena's head against her bosom, "You, who are innocent, are no mere prize for a Yuan-ti. It was not your doing that killed that man, that defiled his body. That man you may mourn, but mourn alone. The fault belongs to Malakas. We will wash away his influence, as Sune will to Sseth's. You will be beholden to no god, save one whom you accept in your heart. You will be free, Kaileena. Of him. Of the past. Only your heart will rule you."

She nodded, shook, limp in her hands.

"Accept our thanks, Kaileena, and our love. Rest, here, in the sanctum of Lady Firehair, and know no dark dreams. If you are ready, we will speak again after you wake."

She was tired. So tired.

"Love none more than yourself except Sune, and lose yourself in love of the Lady Firehair, and in the love that we, her mortal agents, share."

She nodded again, faint. Suddenly, she lay prone, Gaelyse caressing her hand.

"Rest, child. I will watch over you. As will Sune."

Chapter 8

Teneth's, Suzail (16th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

With plenty of time watching over her wayward child as she slept, Gaelyse had time to ponder.

How could a person endure so much, and retain her innocence? Her sanity?

She had heard of the depravity outside of Cormyr's lofty plains...but never had she imagined anything like this to be possible.

She understood Kaileena's morbid philosophies a little better, now.

Understood, but did not agree with; there was light in the world. The girl was beginning to see that now. Life was pleasure and pain, right and wrong. It was her duty to do what she could, and accept that which she could not. That was all anyone could do, really, though Gaelyse was intent of ensuring Kaileena's life became much easier from here.

Poor thing.

Morning came and passed. It wasn't until an hour from noonsun that Kaileena finally stirred from her sleep.

She rose, and blinked, eyeing her.

"Gaelyse-Sama? How long have you been here?"

"Since you went to bed."

"Oh..." she started, abashed, "I hadn't meant...I'm sorry I..."

Gaelyse laughed merrily, "Any priest can recite a prayer, that when spoken as a spell, allows them to fight the effects of fatigue and hunger for many days. I understand you used a similar technique with your familiar."

"Wait...did you undress me?"

She motioned to her nakedness beneath the sheets.

"Actually, Nihn did that. She said you looked awfully uncomfortable in your gown."

"Right..." she replied, shrugging, and slipping out of bed, unmindful of her nudity, though she did glance about for a launder. There was still a tenseness in the arch of her back, but the girl met her eyes much more easily now.

A heart, once revealed, was relieved of its burdens.

She motioned for the folded gown near the mantle, but shook her head, "Not yet. Sit back down, and I can help you relax."

Blinking, Kaileena obliged without question, taking the very spot she had last night.

"Lay flat. Face away, head close to the edge."

As she did this, the Priestess of Sune stood up, flexed her fingers, and began to massage her, starting at the softer tissue just under the ear slit, stroking each side of the neck independently. Kaileena tensed, then exhaled, eyes blinking lazily.

"You're handling this much better than before. Being touched. I am proud."

"Mmph."

Down her neck, Gaelyse eventually moved to the bridge of the shoulders, hands resting just above the clavicles, pressing down, and outward, relaxing the trapeziums and sterno-mastoid, before alternating to the pectoral, above each petite breast, which, to her surprise, bore no nipple, but some manner of mammary slit.

Turning the girl's head to the side, on top of her left hand, her other hand moving again from the base of the ear slit down the side of the girl's neck, Gaelyse alternated to only thumb and index finger as she reached the clavicle, pinching a particular length of muscle.

Gasping, for that region was also home to a bed of nerve clusters in some Humans, she exhaled again, but her eyes were alert.

"I am ready to learn more of the teachings of Sune."

Gaelyse nodded, beaming with approval, "I will be happy to provide basic education."

Finished with the first part of the massage, Gaelyse began to massage the side of her neck in a rhythmic, circular motion, to further stimulate the sterno-mastoid.

"Her teachings are simple; Beauty is more than skin deep. It issues from the core of one's being and reveals one's true face to the world, fair or foul. Believe in romance, as true love will win over all. Follow your heart."

She lifted Kaileena's head, turned it to the other side, and began to repeat the process.

"Love none more than yourself except Sune, and lose yourself in love of the Lady Firehair. Perform a loving act each day, and seek to awaken love in others."

"Does a loving act include...seeing a man?"

"Or woman. Or doing something else; giving coin or counsel or just time to someone in need, seeking a new connection with a long-separated friend. Quality time with one's family."

Her back tensed. Gaelyse resumed the clavicle motions, the better to force the tension back down.

"Encourage beauty wherever you find it. Acquire beautiful items of all sorts, and encourage, sponsor, and protect those who create them. Love those who respond to your appearance, and let warm friendship and admiration flower where love cannot or dares not."

"Well, that should be easy, with my wage and all. I don't think I need a house, at this point. Just another thing to collect dust."

"I won't stop you from getting one for status purposes, but yes, it is ill-advised. I would wait until you could afford someone to manage it. Or maybe your friend, Zolin?"

Kaileena hissed, but it sounded amused, "He's in something of the same living situation, cooked up in that cloister, nice that it is. I wouldn't burden him with a place outside of his place of worship. Sune's faith sounds pretty easy."

"That's how you know it's a good fit."

"Mmph."

"Sune's realm is a shining city known as Brightwater, within the Gates of the Moon; the astral dominion of Selûne, shared between the Moon goddess, Tymora, Lliira, Sharess, and many other goodly gods."

"Does Amaunator share it?"

Gaelyse noted that concern, and the feelings that would provoke it, for another time. Friends, indeed.

"No, not at the present. Zolin will find Keep of the Eternal Sun, a palace located in the Clockwork Nirvana of Mechanus. I am sorry, child."

She visibly deflated, and her muscles slackened. Gaelyse moved to the actual shoulders, and stroked the upper arm in those same, circular motions, stressing her fingertips where needed to stimulate nerves.

It was tricky, much of it guesswork, trying to define Kaileena's exact anatomy.

"The Gates of the Moon also serves as a home for the angelic Palentar, the Eladrin, and Humans. Though they are living and the blessed of Sune are not, the faithful still provide their tribute and services to all members of the shared worlds."

"So we are destined to ply our trade for all eternity? Sounds anticlimactic."

We. Not you. A good sign.

She started on the other shoulder.

"An eternity of propagating Sune's teachings. At times, mortal followers may consult those in the afterlife on matters of spiritual importance. And at other times, the exchange of hidden secrets is also a commodity among all goodly sects."

"It sounds much better then Sseth's afterlife. I wasn't keen on the idea of waiting on Malakas for all eternity, beside the other two women he enslaved."

Humor on the topic. Another good sign. She needed to laugh, the better to recover from her ordeal.

"Still...I wish I could have brought them with me. But they had been with him much longer than I had. There wasn't really anything there..."

"Alas. If I had the means..." Gaelyse replied solemnly, "But you are here, now, and I think you're ready."

"I...I guess so."

"It isn't enough. You have to know the truth of Sune in your heart. You have to speak to her, and then...pay your first tribute. And of her priests and priestesses in these lands, only an offering of flesh will suffice. After that, it won't be necessary. But it would be encouraged."

"But she will accept me? My vows to her would nullify my vows to Sseth?"

"If you desire her in your heart, and renounce Sseth, than so shall it be."

"Then I know I am ready. You offer me everything I want, for anything I would be willing to give for it. At the very least, this sounds like a lot of fun."

"From experience, I concur. I would be honored if you would join us. We would be honored. Make your pilgrimage, and speak to the Lady. Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, profess your heart, without falsehood, and she will answer."

The massage concluded, she let Kaileena stand up, held her up when she lurched forward, woozy, and lifted up her gown.

Kaileena gingerly slipped into it, belting it with a cord, before sighing, and turning to her, "I can still work today, if you want."

"If you are comfortable."

"I am."

"Then see me again after your communion. I think I'll use the bed here, thank you. I can feel my spell coming to an end."

...

She performed her duties. She served drinks, cooked food. For a brief quarter hour, she danced on the stage, in the Neideirra style.

The hourly bell sounded, muted through the walls of Teneth's but nonetheless audible. She kept a careful count, and when it was time, she left the main area for the lower quarters.

Kaileena found the room easily enough.

She knocked, making sure Gaelyse wasn't still sleeping inside, before slipping in, closing the door quietly.

There, behind the bed stand, was the idol, and a platform for a penitent to kneel.

And kneel she did, planting a kiss on the idol's feet.

"Hello...Lady Sune..."

Gods, that was awful. This wasn't a job application.

Sighing, she reflected on her recent days, of the happiness she had found around Zol, around her new friends here in Teneth's.

"Until now, I have lived a life that I have come to loath." she began again, in Nihongo, awash in her memories at the mere use of her native tongue, "I have sought the best of it, of those around me, but alone, it is not enough. I want more. I want...a reason, for me to be. I will never know a family, though I've wanted one so badly it's kept me awake at night. I've wanted to know of my people; am I planetouched, some spell-plague wrought abomination? I've wanted to become stronger, so strong not even the world itself could hurt me."

"What a fool I've been." she chuckled, bitterly, "Not realizing that what I am is for me to decide. And my purpose. And my family. And my people. That's why I came to Cormyr in the first place. My people are Suzail. My family is Zolin, is Gaelyse, is Nihn, is Renda, is everyone here who has accepted me, no matter my blood. My purpose is to spread love and healing and goodwill, in whatever manner I choose."

"Lady Firehair." she pleaded, pressing her forehead against the stone beneath her, "Accept me as your faithful, and as your divine agent. Let me serve you, that I may better fulfill my purpose. Let me give tribute to you, as Malakas tried to force my tribute onto Sseth. Let that man forgive me, let me forgive myself for his blood that spilled unto me in Sseth's name."

"I offer you my heart, my very soul, which I stake on the divine truth you represent. Unto death and beyond it, I am your humble servant."

For how long, she could not say, she remained prostrate before that idol, waiting for a response.

Not in a single moment did she succumb to doubt, to despair.

And her trust was not betrayed.

Faintly, at first, another presence entered her, so alike to when Guardian spoke to her. But this voice, while toneless, Kaileena intuited as feminine.

"Hearken, my disciple speaks."

"Kaileena?"

She startled, turned, to see Gaelyse standing in the doorway.

"Mistress, I-"

"Ease, Kaileena." she replied quickly, smiling, "I think I understand. She spoke to you, didn't she? You have that look about you."

Embarrassed, she nodded.

"You are nearly there, then. I will set up your appointment."

Again, she nodded.

"Two days, most likely. You can relax until then. Lounge in the main area. Serve a few drinks. Take a few drinks. Just make sure you're ready."

...

"They've definitely renovated since last I checked." Zolin mused, looking upon the richly ornamented arches of Teneth's Festhall, complete with a pair of double-doors with stylized brass knockers.

They hadn't spoken much since her employment, and he was getting worried again.

It wasn't a big deal; certainly, they were keeping her busy, given the wages she said they were giving her. It was high for a server, and a dancer, but also a little light for a...ahem, based on what he had heard of Lady Gaelyse.

Surely, she was just drawn out from the sudden shift to employment. Surely, she still...wanted to talk to him.

He still hadn't worked up the courage to give his friend, his...he didn't know really, her gift, and it sat in his pocket still like a lead weight.

Breathing deep, Zolin walked inside, and was greeted by a slim, fair-skinned woman with full, red lips and bright, mischievous eyes.

The type of woman that might have tempted another man, very easily.

"Good evening, Sir." she said, bowing, "Are you here all by yourself? We can fix that."

"Umm, no." he replied uneasily, remembering his first awkward experiences with girls in general, "I was umm- I wanted to speak to Kaileena."

She nodded, "You are her paladin friend, then? She's told me much about you."

Her friend? Only her friend?

"Yes."

"Splendid. You have a free night and a free pair of drinks. Right this way, please."

...

Kaileena downed another sparkling wine, drowning her inhibitions with drink.

The man beside her, out of Hlondeth, spoke in Chondathan of his city, and his wealth, and a great many other things that didn't interest her.

But since he had put an offer forward for her...initiation, she studied his every word, replied as best she could, and tried very hard to look into his eyes like she did so easily with Zolin.

She wanted it to be someone else, a specific someone else, but she didn't know what to do about that. It would be the same no matter who she saw.

She sat on his lap, one arm about his shoulder, her tail curled about the leg of the chair. It felt appropriate. He'd asked for her name, but hadn't given one. That felt appropriate too.

"So..." the man continued, "When can we...retire? I know we can't go all the way yet...but I'd like to...take stock a little."

Too soon. Too soon...

"I...um, I will be ready after another drink."

Not really. She didn't think she could be ready for this...but if it's want Sune wanted...

"Good." he said, his hand on her thigh, his eyes hungry, "I'm looking forward to this. They say a woman feels like her first when giving herself to Lady Firehair. I was eager to test that."

Gods, how she tired of that look.

Gods, how she tired of these men.

There was one she wanted to ask...but she was too afraid. Maybe it was for the better.

"Kaileena?" a broken, toneless voice echoed behind her.

She turned, her heart in her throat.

No. Gods, no.

Her worst fears played out right before her eyes, for there was Zolin, staring at her as if she had just stabbed him through the heart.

...

She looked at him, and he saw nothing but sheer panic in her eyes.

So she was doing what he had feared she was. She was a coinlass, and that man was her...

Right. He should have known. He should have known what a fool he was being.

"Zol?"

She wasn't interested in him. Certainly, not in the way he'd been thinking.

"Zol?" she asked again. Every part of her was tense as a bowstring.

The man as the table whispered something in Chondathan.

She didn't pay it any heed.

"I...got you these..." he finally replied, a big gaping hole in his gut, "After you sold off your amethysts, I...I thought it might be a good replacement."

He left the small box on the table, and turned tail.

"Zolin!"

...

Lady Gaelyse watched the entire exchange, and as a Chosen of Sune should, she instantly understood.

The paladin stormed off, leaving Kaileena wavering, on her feet, her mark left very, very confused by the whole exchange.

She picked up the box he had left, and opening it, her hands shook as she drew a pair of pink mother of pearl bead earrings, and a matching necklace of three connected beads and chain of thin golden twine. The ends of the earrings were large metal hoops, sized about right for the horn nubs along the sides of her head, level with the brow.

She dropped the gift, leaving the pearls clattering impotently to the floor. She clutched at her chest, her face a rictus of agony, before moaning, and darting away.

"What was that all about? Kaileena?" her mark asked, standing but not following her, "Kaileena?"

Paying him no heed, Gaelyse rushed after the paladin.

She found him right outside the entry hall, back to the wall and his eyes closed.

"Hello, there."

He scowled, opened his eyes, and she saw the tears gathering there.

"What do you want?"

"You are Zolin, right? I had a proposition to share with you..."

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."

"Kaileena wishes to be a priestess. Consider it a matter of faith."

He blinked, confused, and she nodded, "A priestess, Zolin, of a goddess that has accepted her; her past and her future. But in spite of how badly she wants this...she was sitting in there, with that man, as if there was no other place in the world she wanted to be less. Do you know why that is?"

He looked to her, and his expression was pained, "It's an offering, right? A communion? I don't know why, Lady Gaelyse."

"Because that is not the tribute that Sune desires of her, and she knows it." Gaelyse replied, "Not in her mind, but in her heart, which she fears so greatly to listen to. I would allow her the proper tribute, that she may commune with Lady Firehair...but I need your help."

"Why me?"

"She loves you."

He looked away. His shoulders tensed, than shivered.

"Surely you knew that by now. Do you love her?"

"I..."

"You need not answer me, Paladin of Amaunator. The matters of the heart, remain of the heart. Now...will you hear my proposition...?"

Chapter 9

Suzail, Cormyr (18th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

It was late, well after nightfall.

And it was time.

She drank her wine, a very special wine, and followed Gaelyse from the main area.

"You have communed with Lady Firehair." Gaelyse said with ceremony, "Now, you only need to pay your first tribute, and her presence will open itself to you more fully. If you are indeed possessed of the qualities she desires, and I have no doubt in my heart this is so, you should be able to ask for your first spells."

Just as she remembered...their path was unerring.

At the back of the main area, a wide staircase descended beneath a plastered archway. At the base of the stairs, the hallway split in two directions at a pedestal that would soon hold a statue. In both directions the hall was filled with newly added doors, mostly shut.

Around the left corner they went. More doors, leading to a fountain that bubbled against the wall.

They stopped before one of them, and her heart was in her throat.

It was the room with the idol, and the bed...

"It is not my right to force this upon you." Lady Gaelyse advised, frowning, "Are you sure this is what you want? I can take you back above. You will still have a place here, for as long as you wish."

"I want this." Kaileena insisted, "I want to offer myself to Sune. I want to be like you, like Nihn. Faith or Knowing or whatever it is, I want to feel it. I want to know that I have found my place, at long last."

"And I want the nightmares to go away." she thought, but did not say aloud. "I want to forget about Zolin."

Every breath pained her, since he had found her in the arms of another man. It was only in that moment she had known for sure.

A moment too late.

She would grieve in time, but for now, she didn't want to think about it.

Her mistress no doubt knew it anyway. She frowned, thoughtfully.

"Will it...hurt? With the others, it hurt."

Gaelyse held her by the shoulders, forehead pressed against hers.

"It won't, child. What happened out there, and what may happen in here, are two different things entirely. Love cannot be forced. It cannot be submitted. It can only be offered, freely. To Sune, or to anyone."

Guardian was there. Somewhere in the periphery of her consciousness. She knew he would help her, if she needed it. Protect her, if she needed it.

But she might not need it.

"Thank you, Gaelyse-sama. I trust you. I am ready."

"Very well, child. When I close this door behind you, it can be opened again. Do not forget that."

Nodding, Kaileena took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened the door, passing through before she opened them.

The room was what she remembered, save a few new additions, likely placed there by her soon-to-be sisters in faith; racks of wines and spirits, a few...tools, and restraints, to heighten the pleasure of coupling.

But she hadn't expected this...

No. A noble. A dignitary. Maybe that Chondathan man, forgiven her outburst. Someone of wealth, but not the man waiting just on the other side of the doorway. He looked so at ease, and yet so out of place, cleaned and robed as a customer, his face cleanly shaven, save his coppery moustache and goatee, his scent of wood and lavender. His bright green eyes met hers, and there was such peace, yet such anticipation, that there was no doubt of his intentions.

Every doubt in her heart was obliterated by confusion, as he smiled, and held out his hand for hers.

"Zolin?"

...

She stared blankly, wavering. She looked so frail, so fragile, in her thin garments, and lithe frame. Her thin, shapely neck, her curving, feminine hips, concealed but finely outlined, and her small, delicate feet.

Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated, affixed solely on him.

The door closed behind her.

"Zol, I..."

She struggled to continue, failed.

He smiled, fearful and hopeful all at once, "I know, Kaileena. I am here for you. I am the one."

How many things he saw warring beneath her expression. Fear. Uncertainty. Shame. Regret. Desire.

How could any other man but him make sense of all of that?

"I...-"

"I didn't know what it was I felt when we met." Zolin started, approaching her, "I tried to think I was only seeing the light in your eyes, in your soul, and had found someone to which I could relate. How right I was, though I didn't understand exactly how at the time. How long it took me to see."

"I..."

"The more you told me of yourself, the more you confided in me..." he continued, dauntless, "The more strongly I felt. Never in my life have I met another as strong, as selfless, as gentle, and as beautiful as you. Never once have I felt such a conflict in my heart."

He laughed, "It's so obvious now. How I knew I would never meet another, another who could stir me as you have, challenge and validate me as you have. How I've pondered over your every word, seeing wisdom and grace behind every intention, every observation. How I've wanted to protect and console and empower you to take back your life, to better it and by extension all who you will meet. How much pain you brought me...by not telling me what you intended."

"I..."

"I've coasted through all my life, professing the faith, my belief in the goodness of this world, waiting for you, oh friend of my heart, to complete mine."

"I know, I'm hardly a poet. I probably sound ridiculous, like some chapbook-addled fool. I know what you have gone through, how many have made you feel like you could never...be happy, in this way. But I want you, Kaileena. Even if I have to share you, even if they will whisper of us. I don't care."

"I..."

"Please, Kaileena. Do not be afraid. I don't hold anything on you for that man, but I certainly would have liked to know first. I don't want to take anything from you, as so many others have. I want to offer you something. I want your heart, as I offer mine."

He held out the pearl beads, the beads he had given her, the beads Gaelyse had returned, that they might be properly gifted.

He placed the modified earrings on the first nubs along the sides of her head, closest to her eyes. They fit snugly. He leaned in close, and latched the charm about her neck. He stayed right where he was, though.

"I..." She whispered, hands finding his chest, lost and lonely and wanting and his, "I have wanted this. You don't even realize... I was so afraid you would hate me for..."

"No, Kaileena, never."

"I was so afraid you would laugh, being a Human, and I..."

"No, Kaileena. Never."

"I thought-"

"I don't care about that." He interrupted, laughing and rejoicing and never more certain and afraid in his entire life, "I want you, Kaileena. As you, as a partner in matrimony under Amaunator, as a blessed of Sune who can only meet me sparingly, as anything you want. I know now to take life as it comes, and nothing you could do would diminish my love for you. Nothing."

With a slow, gentle, but deliberate movement, he undid the cord at her waist, parting her robe, before pressing into her.

Her entire body shook, but not for long. Her skin was warm to the touch. He felt months of tension bleeding out of her.

Her heartbeat slowed, and her body stopped shaking, though a shiver of pleasure coursed through her as he wrapped his arms about her, hands resting at the small of her back.

"So...we will...?"

His hands went a little lower...

Again, a shiver of anticipation. A flush of desire. Her breathing was deep, and slow.

"Yes." he replied, "Gaelyse set this up for us. We had a good long talk, and she told me everything. Sseth. Malakas. Skullport, all of it. If I'd had any idea... But that doesn't matter. I've already paid, and I've chosen you. The deal is set, and I would not recant if Sune herself came to counter-offer."

He leaned forward, ever so slowly, ready to pull back, if she tried to push away.

She didn't.

He kissed her, uncertainly, at first, for he wasn't practiced even upon a Human mouth, and her long snout presented an obstacle.

She tensed, breathed, and melted into him, arms now about his neck.

All at once he burst into motion, caressing, exploring, pulling her into the room.

He aimed for the bed, but met the wall, hiking up her underskirts.

She pushed back, and arched her body forward, presenting herself, her breathing deep and husky.

He pulled her out of her robes, twisted and accidentally locked up his feet, and landed over her on the bed.

She gasped, and then calmed as his mouth met hers again.

Everything became base instinct, animal urge. He lost himself to the wine, and whatever else their host had put into it.

All that occupied his mind was the sight of Kaileena's eyes, interlocked with his own...

...

Oh, goddess.

It was...wonderful.

Kaileena lay beside her heart-friend, her head resting on the bulk of his arm, her snout atop his chest, itchy against the tufts of curly hair, as it rose and fell with deep respiration.

Everything was sore... She was more tired than she ever remembered being. And it felt good.

Yawning silently, she lay an arm about him, awash in his heat, his scent mingling with hers.

Everything Gaelyse and Sune had promised... It was true.

This was nothing like Malakas, like the men of Teikoku.

This hadn't been a sacrifice, but a free exchange, just like they said it would. And with Zolin...

She was glad he was her first. And he was her first. None of the others counted.

That presence returned, so like Guardian but so unlike him. She tasted perfume in the air, sensual amber, though she hadn't worn any. The colors of the room, especially the reds and golds, brightened, intensified.

A tingling sensation, like ecstasy, flooded her body. She sighed, her heart fluttering, as knowledge filled her, the possibility for spells that would charm and seduce, would console and mend, and, if need be, would intimidate and terrify. The sheer influx of divine power staggered her, and she struggled to retain as much as she could. Instinctively, she knew it would take a long period of study and meditation to actually cast even one.

There were no words, but she understood the goddess clearly.

"Welcome home."

Chapter 10

Teneth's, Suzail (19th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

He woke with her still in his arms. Her breathing was faint, soft. Her weight against him was slight, but welcome, her heartbeat a rhythm more soothing than any lullaby. He kept his eyes closed, savoring the moments, these precious moments, where she was his and his alone.

Eventually, she stirred, and when she opened her eyes and looked to him, a faint, weary smile marked her lips.

He had come to know well the expressions she displayed, but not once had he seen such peace, such happiness, in her smile.

"Hey, there..." he said, returning the smile.

"Hey, there." she repeated, blinking slowly, lazily.

"How was it?"

"Like everything I'd hoped, and nothing I'd feared."

"Good. You hungry?"

"Unbearably. You?"

"Same."

"I don't feel like getting up."

"Me neither."

"Mmph."

"Let's give it a minute, then."

Her smile darkened, became something primal.

"How about thirty?"

He chuckled.

"My thoughts exactly. That should be enough time."

He leaned in, and kissed her again, ignoring her breath, as she was no doubt ignoring his.

Plenty of time for another go...

...

Nihn waited for her at the stairwell, and when she finally came up, hand interlocked with Zolin's, Nihn smiled as she did.

"Good morning, Nihn."

"It's the late afternoon, actually."

Kaileena blinked, "Huh? Oh. Benefit of bunking underground, I guess. You have something for me?"

Offering a golden scarf, a symbol shared by ley-worshipers and priestesses alike, Nihn bowed low, as Kaileena wrapped it about her neck, over her sleeveless gown, completing her priestly raiment.

"Much better." Zolin said, brushing her cheek, "The look suits you, if more than a few of the other priesthoods might object."

"You really think so?"

"I do."

"I guess I'll have to keep it then. Are you going to stick around?"

"I have my duties to attend to." he replied, stricken, "Besides, I thought it might be distracting. Just...do your thing."

"Are you sure you're alright with me...you know...?"

"I can manage. I'll be back later...err...tomorrow morning. We can go out again. Like we used to."

"Promise?"

"With all my heart."

He kissed her, deeply, and she leaned into it, savoring his taste. Morning breath and all.

Oh yes, she could get used to this.

"I'll see you tonight...umm, tomorrow, then."

They kissed again, an affectionate peck, and he was on his way, back out into the bathhouse and then the entry hall to his personal effects.

"Nihn." she asked, "Where is Gaelyse?"

"By the stage, I imagine. Why?"

"I want to tell her all about it."

"Fine. Just don't spare the detail."

Chapter 11

Teneth's, Suzail (22nd of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Everything settled down for a time.

She saw Zolin in the afternoons, after a long, restorative sleep. They would break fast, wander the city, do whatever they felt like in the moment..

She freely wore her priestly garb, unabashed. They didn't hide their affection, and if there had been stares before...

That was fine, though. Let them look.

She had stopped by the abbey on two occasions, and chatted with the Curate. He seemed more approving then not. Maybe, they could wed in the Abbey, with him presiding.

It was a little early for that, but it was good to know.

When it was time, she would tearfully bid him farewell, and begin her work in Teneth's.

It really wasn't all that different; she still danced, and made and served drinks, and generally composed herself when talking to anyone.

But every now and then, a man or woman would whisper in her ear...well, ear-slit, and they would go downstairs. Sometimes in pairs...sometimes in groups.

She would commune with Lady Firehair, and if it was long and taxing enough, she would stay in bed for the rest of the night and well into the morning.

She still talked with Guardian, every day if she could help it. She had even asked if he...wanted to trade places, and see what life among the living had to offer.

He'd declined, of course. Maybe if she'd been born a man, he would have been comfortable.

Still, she'd actually let him use her body in another sparring match with Zolin. She didn't know who'd won, and hadn't needed to.

"Good morning, Kaileena." Nihn said over the din, greeting her as she ascended the stairs, "How was it?"

"Good." she conceded, "I think Zolin spoiled me, though. Nobody else is still there when I wake up."

"Rushing home to suspicious wives, I imagine."

Shrugging, Kaileena ordered the soup again, and lounged in the main area. At this hour, it was really only the other employees, resting up for the night ahead.

The cup of juice that came with the soup was chilled. Good.

She pressed the perspiring glass to her head, still trying to shrug off the wine from last night. Dragon'sblood Red. Crossing that off the list, definitely.

Forked tongue tasting the air, Kaileena hissed, thoughtfully, at the spoor she detected.

Pheromones. Familiar pheromones.

Now hissing for an entirely different reason, Kaileena stood up, and scanned the room again.

It was impossible. Impossible.

There was probably just a Yuan-ti pureblood, some traveler that managed to sneak in without revealing his reptilian nature. Some traveler just looking for a good time.

There were no half-snake abominations. There was no Malakas. Only Humans, a Half-Elf here and there, and a Moon Elf couple that Gaelyse had just hired on.

Hand to her chest, Kaileena took her seat again, trying to catch her breath. A few glanced her way, privy to her outburst.

Gaelyse and Nihn included.

Kaileena blinked, tried to calm down...and then a man sat down at her table.

"It's been a while." He said, smiling. His eyes were yellow, an exact shade she knew very, very well.

The red around the thin, vertical slit. The splashes of orange flecks among the cornea.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

"You've been acting very poorly, little girl." He hissed, his teeth fangs, "Running off to another god. Offering your flesh to these...mammals. I'm very disappointed in you."

She felt her skin tingling. The bugs would follow it. They always did.

She stumbled out of her seat, tripped, and fell.

"But fear not. The penance you will undertake, ere you die, will erase your sins. You will belong to Sseth in body and spirit before the end, and all will be forgiven."

She backed away from the table.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening!

"Soon, very soon...I will come to collect you. And there isn't a thing these lesser creatures can do to stop me."

She heard others coming towards her. It didn't matter. Her eyes were on Malakas, on her inevitable doom.

It was a mistake to come here. She hadn't run nearly far enough.

And now he knew where she was.

"Kaileena?!"

...

Gaelyse turned the girl towards her, but her head snapped back, at the empty table. Her entire body was shaking.

"He...He..."

"Breathe, Kaileena. You're going to faint if you don't breathe."

She clutched at her chest. Gaelyse could feel her heart racing. She emitted shallow chuffing sounds, like she sometimes did after long periods of dancing or other strenuous work.

"What's wrong, Kaileena?"

She stammered, struggled for words. Gaelyse saw such hopelessness, such impending doom in her terrified expression, that when the words finally came out, she had already anticipated them.

"I...I saw him! He found me here!"

...

Malakas grinned around his fangs as he slithered through the portal and into a small townhouse on the outskirts of Suzail. Rented by agents of the Iron Ring, it served as a base for lesser operatives, the better to smuggle in captured immigrants or beggars into the Underdark.

Up until now, this site had hardly justified its existence.

Guided by Holy Sseth, he had tracked his concubine to this filthy hovel, populated by lowly mammals.

To have stopped so low; a coinlass for lesser creatures, when she was rightfully sworn to him!

His grin became a hiss, and his half dozen soldiers, all Humans, all armed with small crossbows, bolos, and short swords, tensed at the display of his anger.

"All weapons must be peace-bonded..." he repeated, recalling Erfini's warnings of Cormyrean laws, "Purple Dragons may search you upon request."

This would require subtlety.

"Keep your cloaks tight." He warned, "We must be careful, and quick. With luck, I can collect her myself, and we will be gone before the authorities are the wiser."

Sadly, it was too late to control her the more proper way; the influence of Sseth was completely gone from her. Normally, he could issue commands that each of his concubines must obey. With the rune marking her gone, he could no longer do so.

Likewise, he wouldn't have been able to command her for long. She would allow the spirit bound to her to use her body, just like she had to escape.

He should have buried the thing in the stone floor of his bedroom, but he had been careless. She shouldn't have been able to cast without touching it. Unless the spirit itself had somehow reached for her.

Troubled, he palmed the small box in his pack, caressing its smooth, rosewood surface, inlaid with powerful runes of sealing. Sseth did not approve of failure...and failing to control the vessels bound to him both bore strict consequences. He didn't have much time...

But he would succeed.

This would be his assurance that this Guardian would be just as powerless as her. All he had to do...was wait for the right opportunity.

...

Lady Gaelyse watched Kaileena sleep, in a private room in the very heart of the lower levels. The most secure place she could think of.

The girl breathed slowly, wheezing. A coat of foam marked her lips.

Poor thing...

"She can't leave the temple. It isn't safe out there."

Nihn nodded, though she looked uncertain.

"Are you sure she saw what she saw?"

"Yes. For just a moment, I felt a shadow in the room. A coldness. I am left to assume it was some manner of apparition that spoke to her, sent by this Malakas."

"What should we do?"

"File a report with the Purple Dragons." Gaelyse replied, "A Yuan-ti abomination will be easy to find in these lands, as well as any foreigners brought along as escort. When they find him, and send him away or arrest him, then her life can resume, as it should. For now, we will keep an eye open for anything suspicious. She can still perform her duties, but naught else. Send for the Paladin. He'll want to know."

"Yes, milady."

"The Purple Dragons first. Make haste. And take Balyn with you. It never hurts to be safe."

"Yes, milady."

Chapter 12

Teneth's, Suzail (24th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

Kaileena did as she was bade.

Terrified of leaving the safety of her home, Kaileena performed her duties, imbibed not a drop of wine or other intoxicants, and carefully inspected every man and woman she saw, searching for any trace of foreign magic. With Guardian's help, she had cast a new spell, one that allowed her absorption effect to activate on mere contact with inactive enchantments. If anyone came in with even minor enchantments, both of them would flare like a purple bonfire if they so much as brushed against each other.

Malakas didn't come for her. Rumors didn't abound of a Yuan-ti abomination loose in the street, or dark clad men with manacles and chains and gleaming daggers.

But Kaileena would not let her guard down. Malakas was impulsive, arrogant, and cruel...but he was also cunning. He would wait, if he needed to. He would find her amid a moment of weakness.

Running would do her no good; if he had found her here, how far could his reach extend?

So she would stay here until he was found, or maybe indefinitely. Here she had friends, peers. Here, she shared a home with the Chosen of Sune.

Sitting by the stage, lost in thought, she tensed when the chair opposite her moved, then relaxed. as Gaelyse sat into it, watching her intently.

It was in this moment that Kaileena realized the meal she had ordered had arrived.

She poked at the steamed okra, and frowned. Judging by the fact that it was room temperature, it'd probably been there for a while.

"Any luck?"

With Guardian's help, she had also been casting divinations on Malakas, and as many of his soldiers as she remembered.

She took a bite of the okra.

"All of the soldiers I remembered and scried are in Turmish, save two that are dead. I easily identified their surroundings by the familiar walls, or in those specific cases, the soil in which they were buried. Or at least where their bones were buried."

Kaileena shivered, "I can't find Malakas at all. I assume Sseth is shielding him from me. But I had also been able to shield myself from him, in turn. All the protection spells I've detected here helped too. I never would have imagined how many there are..."

"This is a temple, and our place of business, purchased at great expense with my family's funds." Gaelyse replied, wearily, "Back before they disinherited me, that is."

She'd never mentioned that before...

"I'm so sorry, milady."

"Don't be. I hardly am. We've barely opened and the gold is flowing in. I could start my own noble house if I wanted to."

She chuckled, a rare display of mirth, "Actually, I plan on it. I was thinking of officially adopting everyone here without a family name, and leaving percentage of ownership of Teneth's and its assets. By the time I have gone to Brightwater, it will be quite the inheritance."

"That's...so thoughtful." Kaileena gasped, forgetting her troubles, "But it makes sense. This place has been more a home to me then nearly anywhere else I have been, and everyone here, as much my family as my father, brother, and godmother."

"I can put it to paper in a few months. Pending an attack from Shade or another Spellplague."

Instinctively, Kaileena passed her hands in a basic gesture meant to ward off evil, beyond grateful that she had not been born to the year of blue fire, and that none had found her in her travels. Who knew what might happen if the blue fire of Mystra had made contact with her passive absorption ward?

"Will Zolin be joining us tonight?"

Kaileena frowned, took another bite.

"No. He's working."

"They did not allow him to remain nearby?"

"He is nearby. As are an extra couple of Purple Dragons. They patrol the streets regularly; it seems like the threat of enslaving a citizen has them stirred up, even if it's a non-Human like myself. This is a good place to be. Most others would turn a blind eye to those they consider undesirables. It's the reason I came here."

Another bite, this one more saturated with butter. It helped; okra was bland fare, and needed to be made a little unhealthy to be appetizing. She missed the sweet potatoes Father had grown.

"What did lead you here?" Gaelyse asked, "I know why you came north, but why Cormyr specifically?"

Tasting the air, Kaileena shrugged, setting aside the leftovers, bereft of appetite, "Every place I've ever been has been nothing but a stepping stone; a fork in my path, leading to temporary bounty or hardship. Starmantle, for one. I wound up stumbling into it after escaping Turmish, brought to the southern border of the gulthmere forest by a magical portal. I was nude, addicted to minddust, possessed of Guardian's lamp, and a few gold bands I couldn't remove; the collar and shackles, primarily. Thick and valuable. The irony; bearing a small fortune in gold but being too afraid to ask anyone to take them off, that I could use it."

She laughed, bitterly, "I stole a cloak. I wasn't proud of it, but with Guardian, it was easy. First that, then food, and then coin. I suffered constant withdrawal symptoms; fatigue, hallucinations. Bugs crawling under my skin, and the like. I shook myself half to death one night, and didn't sleep for four days. I was convinced I needed to find a knife and...bore, the insects out of me. But I didn't get a knife. I didn't buy more minddust. Not once. With Guardian's help, I kept myself together."

"I bribed a guild hall to break apart my bindings, and used them to purchase the clothes you saw me in when I arrived. I bought a viol, and a tent, and I lived outside of an inn that wouldn't let me inside. With Half-Orcs, houseless Drow, Goblinkin, and worse on the streets, I had to fight once or twice, to keep them away. A Lizardfolk man invited me to his yurt outside the city, but I refused him. Even though he was nice I couldn't bear the thought of...being with a man, after Malakas. He didn't understand. I don't blame him for that. A month or two, I spent like this, entertaining for coin, what little they hurled at me, with jeers and insults and crude humor."

"And then a man stayed at the inn beside my tent." she remembered, thoughtful, "He was a paladin of Illmater, out of Suzail. I know by his livery, and his holy symbol. He watched me dance, though he wasn't really watching me dance, and he placed ten golden crowns in my bowl. Nobody had ever given more than a silver. He gave ten gold coins. He smiled, placed a hand on my shoulder, and said to me, "All who suffer and are innocent, have no place among the damned. Seek my lands, and find your place, among the penitent or among the blissfully ignorant." and he stayed by my tent the whole night, watching over me. I might have feared robbery from another, but with him watching me, I slept like a babe. When I woke, he was gone, but I knew he hadn't left long ago. The ground beneath him was still warm, as was my hand, which he had held."

"I knew I couldn't stay in Starmantle. Even though there were Lizardfolk there, as close to my people as I am likely to find in this world, I sought out this land of Humans. With his gold, I paid for a proper meal. Then, I bartered for passage to Westgate, and then into Cormyr proper. I knew that if this land could create a man like this paladin, I knew I could make it my home."

"And the rest is history, I take it?"

"Indeed. I don't think that was a man." Kaileena added, begrudgingly finishing the okra, "Not anymore. I think he was an aspect of a god, calling to me. It certainly wasn't my imagination, since the coins I used were real enough. Nothing short of ten crowns could have gotten me that far, with enough silvers left over to keep myself fed. But I don't think he was a man, or at least...not just a man."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Mmph.", "Kaileena agreed, "I used to believe we all lived for a reason; that there was something important we were meant to do. I don't anymore, but in that man's kindness, I saw a reason to live in Suzail. That was enough to keep me going."

"And now I have Sune, and Teneth's, and Zolin, and Guardian. I have everything I need to justify my existence."

She blinked, and her eyelids ached. She realized she was very, very tired, "I think it's about time. Nobody's come up and offered, so I'll retire for the evening. Thank you again, Gaelyse-sama. For this. For everything."

As she rose, she kissed her mistress twice, on either cheek, and bowed, blending expressions of affection from two different customs.

Gaelyse smiled, nodded, "Get some rest, child. Everything will settle down soon."

She took her plate over to Balyn, complemented him on the meal, and went downstairs, to her new room, passing several couples on the way.

Lonesome, she closed the veil behind her, for there was no proper door yet, and fell into the plush bed.

Or she thought she did; instead, she pitched onto cold stone. It was suddenly dark, and humid.

Stunned, Kaileena nonetheless sat up, and found herself along a side-street in Suzail's foreign quarter. Guardian's lamp appeared in a burst of light, but in the clawed hands of Malakas himself.

Hands closed about her, and her own hands were pulled behind her back, and bound with cord.

"Good..." Malakas hissed, smiling wide, "I was taking a gamble that nobody else would lay in that bed, and trigger the contingency I placed on it."

"So shortly you have been gone from me, little girl..." He continued, drawing a small, ornate box from his pack, "And it feels like an eternity. How nice it will be to bring you home."

The protection spells! What had happened?

"Their god is not our god. And your oaths keep you so long as I live. Aided by stealth and shadow, I can infiltrate any sanctified grounds."

Frozen in fear, Kaileena called upon Guardian a moment too late.

Malakas opened the box, and out of it, he drew a small, black bead.

"Little Fox!" his voice cried in her head, "Flee, before-"

His words cut off mid-sentence, as Malakas tore the stopper off of the lamp, and dropped the bead inside. She tried and failed to reach him telepathically through their link.

"Can't move, my love?" Malakas asked, hissing, "Feeling a little sluggish? It must be the charm I placed on you the moment you sprang into our midst. Something to keep you calm, so you don't make a scene. Let's go."

They wrapped her in a cloak, and led her down the side-street, towards a small townhouse.

"No..." she cried, though her voice was quiet, "Lady Firehair...preserve me."

"I told you, it isn't your decision. It wasn't when you fled from me, or when you bowed to another god. It wasn't your choice. Your life is mine, justly given."

"Lawfully, not justly." Kaileena hissed, fighting in vain against his men, who held her firm, "The law can be defined by anyone. And it can be defied by anyone."

"You got impertinent in your time here. We can fix that. Now, that's enough from you. Be silent."

...

Maintaining his patrol, Zolin nonetheless stayed within three blocks of Teneth's, as he had since Nihn had spoken to him.

The paladin knew something was wrong. He felt magic in the air; a telltale vibration in the fabric of reality.

He kept his sword loose in its scabbard.

He circled round, looking for anything amiss, before cutting across into adjacent alleyways.

Nothing.

Invoking a prayer to his god, Zolin whispered, "The morning light banish the darkness. Lord of Dawn, hear me. Guide me to my beloved."

A woman cried, somewhere in the distance.

He knew he had been answered.

He walked quickly, moving unswervingly towards the sound. Then, towards the sound of boot steps, soft, but present.

Along a narrow side street, he rounded a corner, and found a group of men.

With the power of his god pouring through his veins, he pierced the illusion; that of a group of beggars, and beheld the true sight before him.

Several armed men.

And a monstrous reptilian creature.

"TO AR-"

His call for the guards went silent, his lips clamped shut by an invisible force.

"What a bother." the one that could only by Malakas hissed, his smile leering, his hand about Kaileena's forearm, while he held her lamp to his chest, "Make it quick, and let us be off. I could use some entertainment."

He couldn't move. One of the men approached, drawing a slim blade.

"Kaileena?"

She was covered in a cloak, but he knew it was her.

She turned, dazed, her expression unfocused.

"Kaileena?"

She stared blankly.

"Kaileena?!"

Still, she stared. The dagger drew closer. He could smell the man's breath, count the individual hairs of his facial stubble.

He lifted his hand to strike.

"Kaileena!

...

Ches, 1485 Dalereckoning

She lay beside him, beside the others, the taste of blood still on her tongue. It would never go away.

This was it, then...

She could not cry, not a tear. It was gone from her, all of it.

"This is your fault..." Shriva whispered beside her, "All your fault. If he hadn't found you..."

If he hadn't found her, Shriva and Neline would be mere slaves, free to choose their afterlife.

As would she; she should have told Erfini to procreate with himself, been sold into a grisly death, and found mere nothingness, beside her people that cherished no gods.

It would have been better. So much better.

The minddust left a trail of stars in her eyes, the lingering traces of Malakas' revelry.

It would have been better.

Kaileena itched at the second mark on her flesh, which she felt burning still. With it, Malakas had commanded her to eat that man's flesh; a roasted shank they pulled from the corpse like a stuffed pig.

And without even realizing it, she had found herself eating it, her limbs obeying a will not their own.

He had made her...offer to him. Made them all offer to him. And they had.

Within view of the lamp, for Malakas had tired of keeping it in a vault and was determined to continue his revelry in a nearby city, Kaileena stared at it, knowing she could not move a finger to touch it.

Everything felt numb, drawn out. She couldn't stand if she wanted to.

For a variety of reasons.

"Guardian..." she whispered, feeling for his presence, and knowing that Malakas would no longer be warding it.

"I know, Little Fox."

"I cannot..."

"I know, Little Fox."

She wept.

"I am so sorry, Little Fox."

"Why?" she projected, in Nihongo, laughing, "I am happy. This is the first moment in three years I have not been alone..."

She felt his silence, the distress in it.

Malakas shifted, but did not awaken.

"Who are you talking to?" Shriva asked, hostile.

"...Perhaps you are." Guardian conceded, "I am glad for it. More than you know."

Nodding, Kaileena closed her eyes,

"You cannot cast spells as you are." he noted.

Again, she nodded, scratching at her brand.

"I know a dozen spells that could free you." He added, simmering anger in his tone, or maybe the implication thereof, "But you don't have the ability or the proficiency."

Again she nodded.

But then, she hissed, thoughtful.

Shriva stirred again.

"I don't..." Kaileena noted, "But you do."

"Who are you talking to? Keep quiet. You'll wake him."

"What if I let you in? Would you be able?"

Silence, but a thoughtful sort.

"Touch the lamp, Little Fox."

"But I can't move."

"Not with your body." Guardian replied, "Deepen the connection. Let me in."

Shriva's claws raked her arm, and she yelped, but her mouth was clamped shut.

The Yuan-ti pureblood scowled at her.

"Not...another...word..." she mouthed, but did not say.

Kaileena deepened the connection, and felt her body go numb.

But not from the minddust or fatigue.

Shriva's eyes went wide, as her hand formed a fist, and struck her in the temple. She saw her body hurl itself from the platform, leaving a stirring Malakas and a very bewildered Shriva.

She touched the lamp, and drew power from it, her hands forming intricate cabalistic passes, arcane syllables pouring from her lips. Motes of light surrounded her, and suddenly she stood in the main hall, nude, turning towards the arch.

"It normally requires reagents to function." Guardian whispered, "It will take a few moments to circumvent the foundation of the spell. On the bright side, when I am finished, it won't function again. One brief window."

Acknowledging him in a small, private corner of her mind in which she still occupied, Kaileena watched as she began to cast a spell she'd never known.

She heard a horn sound. Another.

They didn't have much time. Malakas' bedchambers were just above.

"Please, hurry..."

"I know, Little Fox. I know."

The rune on her arm, on their arm, began to ache. Her hands grew sluggish.

The archway glowed red regardless, and its stone surface shimmered with enchantment.

She willed her feet to press forward.

"Stop."

She stood ramrod stiff. Her arm burned, as if ablaze.

"Face me."

She turned away from the arch, towards Malakas, who stood in the chamber, surrounded by ten armed soldiers. His eyes narrowed.

"What exactly did you think you were doing?"

"There is no vow that can rule a heart...if not given by the heart. Fight it, Little Fox."

Kaileena hissed. She didn't frame a reply, but she didn't run towards the portal either.

"Remember your wish. The wish that brought me back."

She did. She wanted to be free.

"Use it."

She clutched her arm, and hissed anew. The soldiers drew in closer. The arch began to crackle, behind her.

"Be still." Malakas commanded, "I will sort out how you made it down here later...once I break that damned lamp of yours."

She wasn't still. She turned towards the arch.

She remembered her father, who died so that she could live.

She remember her time in that cage, in Teikoku, in Skullport.

In here.

She wouldn't live in that. And she wouldn't let Guardian die.

Nobody would die for her ever again!

She took a step. Another. Her arm brought fresh stabs of agonizing pain.

"Restrain her."

She dashed, just as two armed men blocked her path, and four more approached.

She dashed their spears aside with a thrust of telekinesis, and passed them, a stone toss from the arch.

It felt like someone was sawing her apart.

She doubled over, somewhere between Kaileena and Guardian, hissing in pain.

Malakas slithered forward, towards her. She could smell him, his scent overpowering.

He was right behind her.

"You killed your father." he whispered to her, a hand on her shoulder, "You deserve this. You forgotten that?"

"No, I haven't." Kaileena replied, "Just by living, we hurt others."

He hissed, satisfied.

"Little Fox..."

She turned, into the Yuan-ti, saw the satisfaction in his face.

"I do deserve this."

Power pooled in her hands. His expression became one of bewilderment, then alarm.

"But nonetheless, I must go." Kaileena continued, "Because it isn't just my life. It's Guardian's life. It is my father's life."

She willed the power in her hands to release, felt herself being hurled back by an explosion of telekinetic force. Felt the pain in her arm cease, abruptly.

She looked up to a sky with stars unfamiliar, felt cool, dew laden grass under her body.

She smiled, cradling Guardian's lamp in her hands, and knew no more...

...

Yes...it felt just like that moment...

The bonds holding her had a weakness. They always did. Her will was her own.

Kaileena inched her fingers forward, straining the binding spell, and onto the lamp against Malakas' chest, which now contained the bead.

He looked down, confused.

For just a moment, a bridge existed between her, the lamp, and the black bead, but more importantly, the black bead and her magic absorbing aura.

Who knew what happened when anti-magic touched a magic absorption effect?

Her flesh erupted in purple fire, and he hissed, backhanding her. The lamp fell with her, and she held it tightly.

Needing no guardian spirit to cast, for her blood burned with magic, Kaileena purposefully collapsed, severed the binding's hold on herself, and the enchantments on the soldiers, and the paralysis holding Zolin with hasty counter spells backed by considerable power.

What she had absorbed quickly diminished. Fissures opened along the clay surface of the lamp.

Zolin roared a great battle cry, and thrust his sword into the chest of the Human soldier with the dagger, drawing it free as the others converged on him.

And as one, the battle ensued.

She inched away from the Yuan-ti, just as he lunged towards her, fangs extended. He met a hastily erected telekinetic barrier, and he floundered, even as it broke apart into streamers of mist. Suffering the backlash of the spell, just as she intended, Kaileena was forced back, dragged along the ground several paces, hurting her ankle.

The fissures along the surface of the lamp deepened. Chunks of dry clay broke off from the whole.

She stumbled, rose to her feet. She couldn't stand easily; her ankle throbbed with the weight she put on it.

Screaming for the guards, Kaileena stumbled towards Zolin, who fiercely dueled with Malakas' five remaining soldiers.

Already, he bled from several cuts, his mail little protection against their honed blades.

She saw two complementing each other's thrusts, in a manner almost impossible to parry, and focusing telekinetic energies into a concentrated cone through a series of mystic passes, she stuck the one on the left in the kneecap, fracturing it and downing him.

Zolin parried the other, spun his blade into a flourish, slapping his opponent's blade down, and slashed across the midsection, spilling his underbelly.

Forced to retreat from the remaining three, Zolin backed to the wall.

Horns sounded in the distance. She heard shouting.

Malakas began to cast, his voice a snarling hiss, and Kaileena turned to him, and beginning in kind, she finished just after he did.

Foul, roiling shadows emerged from his fingertips, and hurled towards Zolin with blinding speed. They struck at his chest, passing through his armor without resistance, and he doubled over, retching, his skin pale and sunken. A corona of light surrounded him, and he rose, shakily, to turn two blades aside, one with the edge of his sword, the other with the cross guard. The third man pierced his shoulder with a precise strike, and he grunted, pained.

Kaileena, for her part, yanked the anti-magic bead from the lamp and into the palm of her hands.

Again, her flesh burned with energy.

Ignoring her fear that Guardian might already be gone, she prayed desperately to Sune, casting a charm on two of the three soldiers, who were even then breaking through Zolin's defenses. He bled from more cuts, more rapidly than natural.

Instinctively, she knew their weapons were poisoned.

Tensing, then going completely slack, they looked about, confused, as if they had forgotten why they had come here.

Malakas snarled, rattled off a counter spell of his own, just as Zolin beheaded the cognizant one and rounded on the other two, his face red and drenched in sweat. They resumed the fray with renewed determination.

Praying to Sune, even as he prayed to Sseth, this time she finished her spell first; a powerful abjuration that would obliterate any wards on Malakas' person. She intuited, more than saw, as one by one, they winked out of existence.

"You traitorous bitch!" he rasped, again targeting Zolin.

But this time, she wasn't burdened by casting, and she interposed herself between them, as a thin, green beam fired from his fingertip.

Kaileena felt the bead crumble apart. Felt the rush of purple fire abate, just as the spell reached her, piercing her chest.

She gasped, shivered, as she felt the magic warring with her absorption ward.

She knew this spell; felt the thin precipice on which her doom hung, for she had seen Malakas reduce a person to a pile of dust with it.

Never in her life had she had the chance to test this odd attribute of hers. She didn't know its limitations.

Malakas began to cast anew, his eyes wild, bloodshot.

Feeling it begin to overtake her, she gave a last, desperate effort, in a spell Guardian had only recently taught her; one that could only work while she was drawing from a spell that was not her own.

Pointing her left index finger, Kaileena screamed the invocation as she drew upon all her strength to isolate the spell affecting her. That foul, sickly green light pooled at its tip.

"The fires of Sseth consume you both..." Malakas hissed, flames smoldering in his hands.

It shot forward like a loosed arrow, and in its wake, her finger disintegrated.

Malakas, with astounding agility, slithered to the side, even while casting.

And even through the pain, Kaileena angled it towards him with a quick burst of telekinesis.

It struck his arm, and he screamed as she did.

She fell to a knee, clutching her ruined digit, as Malakas' right arm disintegrated at the shoulder.

His casting ceased, his next divine spell dying stillborn amid his cries. The flames winked out, in a cloud of putrid smoke.

She couldn't feel anything left in her to use.

"Guardian!" she shrieked, holding the lamp, reaching out to her familiar spirit, her first and closest friend.

No response.

"Guardian?!" she cried, shaking it.

No response.

The clay shell broke apart, crumbling to dust.

Roughly half the size, she stared into glimmering surface of the golden, inner lamp, horrified.

"You bitch..." Malakas snarled, "You filthy whore! I'll send you to Sseth in pieces!"

He reached out with his remaining hand, called upon some new, terrible power.

Nothing happened.

He blinked, confused, began to incant again.

Nothing happened.

"It looks like Sseth isn't watching over you anymore." Zolin moaned, and turning to look upon him, she blanched, seeing him stumble over the motionless bodies of Malakas' soldiers. He clutched his side with his left arm, while his other hung impotently from his bleeding shoulder. His eyes were glazed, unseeing.

"Lady Firehair..." Kaileena prayed, "Guide my path."

Malakas drew his kris dagger with his remaining hand, and slithered forward.

She felt the divine response, felt the threads of a new spell.

Malakas lunged, just as she completed it.

"Be still..." she whispered, triggering a spell of clerical magic, and she opened her eyes, hugging the lamp to her, to find the tip of the blade a hand's breadth from her face.

New power flowed into her body, and casting again, she strengthened the paralytic charm over Malakas, the very one he had used to disable Zolin. His eyes were wild, feral. But every muscle was stiff, rigid.

The horns sounded again, much closer this time.

She pried the dagger from his hands, considering it.

His breastplate had noticeable gaps, under the armpit.

She could do it.

Zolin fell to his knees, retching.

The dagger shook in her hands.

One simple thrust, and all of this would be over.

Malakas stared, unblinking. The charm wouldn't even allow that much.

She knew what she had to do.

Reaching out just as she did to Guardian, Kaileena became privy to his thoughts.

Searing waves of anger and hatred poured from him, but she weathered it patiently.

"Are you going to gloat before you stick me?"

"I'm not going to kill you. You have no power over me anymore." Kaileena replied coldly, "You have no power over anything."

"You will not kill me?"

"No. What has happened, has happened. I can't change the past by killing you now."

She blinked, "But I can define my future by my choices here. With only the charge of defending myself through force, the guards will not condemn me, as they would in killing. I will remain here, a citizen in full, while you await your own much-deserved end, and an afterlife without your god that you have failed. Goodbye, Malakas. We will not speak again before your death."

Turning away from him, Kaileena threw the dagger as far as she could, and studied her heart-friend, setting down the lamp.

His eyes were unseeing. He'd fallen onto his back. His skin was pale, so pale.

"Zolin..." Kaileena moaned, "Hold a moment. Just a moment longer."

One more gift, already given from her goddess.

Light bloomed in her hands, healing energies that would purge his body of the poison festering in it, and heal his wounds.

Laying her hands upon his chest, even as her lips found his, she released those energies into him. His skin was clammy, and feverish.

Lady Firehair, let it not be too late!

Hands closed about her shoulders, dragged her off of him.

"No!"

"Hold still, creature!" A man in the livery of a Purple Dragon snapped, as two of his fellows inspected the paladin. Four more still surrounded Malakas, and three inspected the dead Humans. A wizard stood among them, a still-blazing rod in his hand, and another wizard materialized amid a burst of smoke. He eyed her critically.

"What has happened here?"

Kaileena blinked, "Is he going to live?"

Turning to Zolin, the wizard cast a brief cantrip, then nodded, "In a few days, he should be fit enough to stand."

"Please..." she begged, motioning to her lamp, "See if he's still alright, too."

A tight expression, the wizard motioned to the lamp, and repeated the process.

"It's just a lamp. A residual enchantment lingers, but merely one of preservation. What are you talking about?"

Just a lamp?

Just a lamp?!

Had the bead done its work, then? Was he dead?

Kaileena moaned, "Guardian?"

"Where have you gone?"

She held it to herself, weeping.

The Wizard scowled, forced her head up to lock eyes with him.

"Now, girl! I have a paladin coming back from the brink of death, six men dead, and an abomination standing two paces from me, frozen in stasis. What has happened?! Who are you and who is...that?"

"I am Kaileena." She finally said, numb, "Novitiate priestess of Sune and servant of Lady Gaelyse Cormaeril of Teneth's. The Yuan-ti is a priest of Sseth named Malakas, a slaver and murderer out of Turmish. He...came back for me, and tried to kill Zolin. Zolin killed his men, after nearly being killed himself, and I...disabled Malakas."

The wizard eyed her more carefully now, "That charm...can you remove it?"

"Yes."

"Wait a ten-count, and dismiss it."

"At the ready." he snapped, brandishing his own rod, "Irons."

As she removed the charm, Malakas roared, snapped forward. A shield manifested between him and the guard he was aiming for, and his fangs broke on the conjured bulwark.

The Purple Dragons restrained him quickly, efficiently. They muzzled him with rope, much like the slavers of Skullport had done to her. Two lay upon his tail, that he couldn't use it like a club.

"Get a small wagon, and chain him to it."

The wizard turned to her, frowned, then shrugged, "I've heard of you. The men know you too. With him backing you, your story will be easy to corroborate. Attacking citizens in the streets is punishable by imprisonment, and two counts of attempted murder and one of attempted slavery will likely end in a beheading. Are those the charges you wish to press."

"They are." Kaileena replied, "Can you help me carry him? He will want to be in the abbey."

"No..." Zolin wheezed, his throat parched, "Teneth's. Take me to Teneth's."

"Teneth's?" the wizard asked, "You need a bed, not a bedmate."

"Teneth's. Please. I will not leave her."

"I'll just go with you to the abbey." Kaileena replied, giggling, despite everything, "I'm sure the curate won't mind offering an extra bed."

"...You make a good point. The abbey, then."

The wizard nodded, "I will have three of my men follow you. You're both in protective custody until this all gets sorted out. When the time comes, they will escort you to the Royal Court, where a trial will be held."

"Can you tell Gaelyse we're alright?"

"I'll see to it. Now get you gone. We need to process the crime scene."

Nodding, Kaileena took the lamp, determined to grieve in her own time. Zolin needed her right now...

Epilogue

Suzail, Cormyr (27th of Elesias, 1485 Dalereckoning)

The wizard had given Zolin a week before even finding his feet.

Between her and Amran casting healing magic day and night, he was good as new on that second night.

They shared his bed, small as it was, for those restful two days. Nobody gave them so much as a passing glance. Her missing finger throbbed, constantly. It was like she could still feel it twitching.

Maybe Amran or Gaelyse could grow it back. She decided she would ask when everything settled down.

On the third day, early in the morning, they were called to the Royal Court, to attend the trial of Malakas of the Icy Scale.

She gave her full testimony; that of her time in Skullport, and then Turmish, and finally, of his attempt to recapture her just three days prior, as well as his attempted murder of both her and Zolin, and his successful murder of her familiar, Guardian.

He'd glared at her all the while.

With the War Wizards ensuring his truthful testimony, and no god to shield him, Malakas confirmed everything she said, and he was sentenced to death by beheading.

They were to use Orbyn, a longsword created by Amedahast for King Duar that, as of 1479 DR, was used to swear oaths at the Royal Court and to execute nobility.

They carried it out in the Citadel of the Purple Dragons, just a few hours later.

He'd spouted wild curses, horrendous promises, when he was lifted to the block. He'd raged and ranted of Sseth's glory, of a time when the Yuan-ti would slaughter all non-believers and mammals, and rule all of Toril. He'd called her a whore, a heretic, and a great many things besides.

Zolin never let go of her hand, even when it was done.

She stared into the eyes of her former master as his head parted, and his cries went silent.

"So much death..." Kaileena moaned, "Over what? Why does life demand other life to continue itself? Either mine for his...or his for mine?"

Zolin eyed her, hand on his holy symbol as he completed his prayer, "Your life would have continued on just fine if his had somewhere far away. It's not the same."

"I don't know if that's true. I don't think I would feel so at ease right now if he were still alive, out there, somewhere. I don't think I'm so altruistic."

"Then you're only Human." he verbally parried, "Just like anyone else who would have gone through that, and a great many that have. And I still love you either way."

She looked away from the body, nodding, "Human, hmm? I'd never considered myself one. Close, so close, but not quite. But I've been born among Humans, raised by Humans. I spoke a Human language, ate Human food, wore Human clothing. My family was Human. All but one of my friends was Human. I've felt love and anger and sadness like a Human. In all the ways that matter, I think, I am Human."

"Aye, there's that."

"How do you always know what to say?"

He blinked, "I don't rightly know. I leave that to beings far wiser than myself."

Laughing, despite herself, she leaned in, and rested her head on his chest, as they sat there in the courtyard of Suzail, her new home. Guardian's lamp rested in her lap, its mundane golden surface newly polished. She would keep it with her always.

The body was taken away. The blood was washed clean.

Everyone left, except for them. They sat there for a long time.

"I don't feel like going back to Teneth's just yet."

He nodded.

"Or the abbey."

Again, he nodded.

"The day is still young. Just pick a random direction? See where it leads us?"

"That sounds nice."

"You want to lead the way?"

"Not many choices. South is the Dragonmere, and I'm not up for a swim. How about north?"

"Good choice. Lots of orchards and farmland. A nice country stroll."

The decision made, they left the courtyard for the nearest gate.

The day was still young, with so much more to do...

...

Guardian drifted through the fugue plane, alone in a sea of astral energies.

Energies he drew into himself, granted a measure of Kaileena's absorption effect.

Having shared her body, his spirit wearing her flesh, and more importantly, her blood, the gift had passed to him. She didn't yet realize, but by acting only on the magic she had absorbed, she was in essence tapping the weave. A warlock had become a wizard, the closest thing to the genuine article since perhaps the beginning of the Spellplague. Each of them had gained from the other.

In recent days, for he no longer slumbered as before, while she busied herself in Teneth's, he had studied her power, his research offering insight into her nature.

He knew the effect was synthetic; something another had given her in the womb. A living enchantment.

The Spell-Eater Strain.

Curious. Most curious.

Taking solidarity, at least on a limited scale, Guardian began further divinations, into matters far more personal.

There was a great deal he had to recover. A great deal.

"Rest easy, Little Fox..." He whispered to the cosmic wastes, to the lost souls that awaited their paradise or punishment, wondering distantly if Malakas was somewhere among them, "When the time is right, we will meet again. And it will be of the flesh. Of your flesh, and my own."

Amused by his wordplay, he held out his hand, transparent but quite real and his own, and pondered.

Her pet paladin, her new Guardian, had borne concerns that he was some manner of demon.

He had only been half right...

And now, possessed of her blood, he was something else altogether, something new.

"Interesting times lay ahead."

...

To Be Continued.

...

Character Glossary:

Kaileena: A young girl of unknown heritage. She fled her homeland after her people's rejection and the death of her father, in order to keep her and her brother safe from continued persecution. Finished with her travels, she only wishes for a home, having reconciled the fact that she would never know her people, and that the world was too unsafe to travel.

Zolin Naran: Paladin of Amaunator and advisor of the guard in the foreign quarter of Suzail.

Guardian: A spirit trapped in Kaileena's lamp. A remnant of an unknown entity, Guardian first approached Kaileena in her dreams, shortly after she touched the lamp. He has since served as her familiar minion, offering knowledge of magic and lore retained from the being that he once was.

Shinabi: Kaileena's adoptive father. Upon discovering her during a hunt, in which he suspected he had inadvertently led his prey into the path of her mother, he considered it his duty and responsibility to raise her. As loving and loyal to her as his biological son, he tried and failed to rescue her from captivity, but was captured and executed in retaliation.

Gatsuyu: Kaileena's brother. He is presumed to be living peacefully in Teikoku, himself and his estate protected by Lord Minamoto.

Lord Minamoto: Lord of the Central District of Teikoku. He was the individual who sentenced Kaileena after the confrontation with the outlanders, and approved her request to avoid the death penalty with an agreed upon period of servitude in a brothel. While sympathetic to this strange native to his lands, he believed that to circumvent the law would cause greater harm, and more easily accepted his decision after sparing her life.

Malakas of the Icy Scale: A Yuan-Ti slaver based in Turmish, near the Vilhon Reach. He was Kaileena's owner for three years, during which he studied the lamp she carried, trying to identify the spirit within. A cruel, dominating creature, his devotion to the dark god Sseth led him to force all of his breeding wives into the god's sway.

Shriva: Pureblood Yuan-ti and consort of Malakas.

Neline: Lizardfolk and consort of Malakas.

Erfini Zin: A Human slaver who purchased Kaileena from Skullport, seeing her as an ideal tribute for Malakas' business as a distributor in the Reach. Erfini wanted a foothold on the surface, the better to distance himself from his Dreugar employers, and needed a buyer.

Traskus Orthal: Supervisor of the Cormyrean Immigration Center in Elversult.

Maren: Proprietor of the Immigrant Bunkhouse in Suzail.

Amran: Curate of the Abbey of the Dawn in Suzail.

Carn: Underpriest of the Abbey of the Dawn in Suzail.

Lady Gaelyse Cormaeril: Priestess of Sune and proprietor of Teneth's, a festhall and place of worship to Sune in Suzail.

Nihn: Underpriestess of Sune and employee of Teneth's

Renda: Underpriestess of Sune and employee of Teneth's

Balyn: The Head Chef of Teneth's

Olin: An escaped slave and master tattooist based in Suzail.