The first to wake up again was Crentha.
The kendermaiden groaned and sat up, rubbing her bruises and flexing her wings. She hadn't been aware of falling from anywhere. As far as she could recall, they had been flying, laughing at Takhisis's ire, and then fell asleep like one does sometimes in the middle of their own dreams. As she smoothed a finger over a light brown blotch on her arm, she became acutely aware that she was in some strange place, wide awake, and being watched – however she took her leisure. Whoever it was, if they had wanted to do her arm, would have by now.
Perhaps, she speculated, they want to kidnap me and charge my parents a ransom of some sort. It was a dreamy notion that she took in her head, slowing her self check process all the more. She envisioned an evil black knight on an undead horse, whisking her away to his castle stronghold in a great big mountain. It would be storming and there would be a full moon, it was rather a requisite of being a damsel in distress, and she'd scream so loudly that her Solamnic knight would come and rescue her, sweeping her off her feet and flying away on a pseudo, perhaps a mercury dragon.
When at last satisfied that nothing was broken, and having exhausted this notion of her situation, she stood up, dusting off her skirt, prepared her "helpless princess" look, and turned around. A woman stood, facing her. Her expression dropped as the dramatic dreams were smashed on the rocks of reality. However, it wouldn't make due to be rude just yet. Perhaps this was a witch. Any evil was good evil for these kinds of situations. "Can I help you?"
The woman was clad in long wine red robes, and her auburn hair was swept back and hidden within her cowl. Her face was half illuminated by the morning sun (or was it sunset?), and made light of her delicate features. Slender fingers, pale as was the rest of her skin, were clasped and held before her, and she seemed to contain no weapons. All in all, Crentha thought her to be quite helpless looking, albeit pretty. Ruby eyes regarded her thoughtfully, but she didn't think anything too odd of that. They were fascinating, yes, but plenty of people had gawked at her wings, and those were as natural to her as her arms. She'd learn to respect others' differences at an early age.
When the woman failed to reply, Crentha squirmed about and stuck out her hand, as her father had taught her. "My name is Crentha Burrfoot, daughter of-"
"Tasslehoff and Dreamflight," the woman finished. "I am pleased to meet you finally." Crentha studied this strange woman, who seemed to know about her family to an uncomfortable degree. There were many questions to be asked.
"How did you know that?"
"I've been watching you and your family since before you were born."
"Who are you then" she asked slowly. "Have you been spying on me and my family?" Crentha gave the woman a suspicious stare that only succeeded in bringing a slight smile to the cherry lips. "Because if so, I'd like you to ask me for permission first. I have no problem telling people about myself, but I could be offended if everyone just did whatever they felt like. What kind of person does that?" The woman tilted her head back in a delighted laugh, leaving Crentha to blink and stare, bewildered.
The woman stopped laughing, settled on grinning, and took Crentha's delicate hand in her own slender one. "I am Lunitari, the Goddess of Neutral Magic." Crentha waited expectantly. "Daughter of Gilean." Satisfied that the introduction had been completed in full as it should be (all unmarried daughters should state their parents name, she'd been taught by some very nice humans), Crentha stared opened mouth and in awe. She licked her lips and readied a list of questions that all kender have ever wanted to ask the gods. Lunitari raised a warning finger.
"I'm sorry, but there is not much time to chat," she said gently, apologetically. "Your family has been scattered about the world. Something is not right about this. Although kender, I have seen, have a love for wandering, Takhisis was involved in this after being involved with her war on Paladine and the pseudo dragons. If Takhisis and Chaos have planned something, then the gods of magic wish to help Dreams in thwarting them. Takhisis has betrayed us once, and given a second chance. Twice now she has betrayed us, and this time she will be brought to a greater justice." Crentha made a face, crossed her arms, and stood her ground. This was an imitation of the gestures she'd seen Grandpa Flint make on occasion when he and her father got into arguments.
"First, tell me what's going on," she demanded, hoping that the goddess wouldn't take offense, but secretly anxious to see what an angry goddess would do. "None of this makes sense to me. Who are Dreams and Chaos? What does Takhisis want with my family?" Lunitari brushed the dust of her gowns primly, and pushed open the door to the abode they were resting in. Now that the room was in sunlight, it appeared that Crentha and Lunitari had been waiting in a sickroom of some sorts. Off in the distance, a bell tolled.
"All in good time, Crentha. For now, we should leave. I transported-"the goddess paused, seeing the uncomprehending look on the kendermaiden's face. "Whoosed." Crentha immediately nodded and smiled, having fully understood that fond term. "Whooshed us to a Majere monastery and waited for you to come to, but now we should make haste. I have already agreed with my brothers to meet at Godshome, and from there we may find your parents." Lunitari took the protesting kender by the hand and gently lead them out of the dark sick room to bright morning sunshine, rolling hills, and milling monks. Crentha gazed around, admiring the scenery, and so Lunitari held the kender's hand tighter to discourage wandering and dawdling. However, Crentha's was elsewhere. As they reached the road to be traveled upon, she spoke up.
"How did you know to save us?"
Lunitari smiled. "Why, little one, we three heard your prayer."
Next, was Firespice.
Although an easy going kender, Firespice was on guard. As soon as he felt consciousness return to him, he leapt up to his feet, snatched the hoopak tied to his back (and never stopping to wonder how or why he had it, when at last it was in the clutches of something slimy and wriggling), and spun around with it. The weapon made its famous bullroar through the air until it smacked soundly against something unyielding. His eyes still closed, Firespice had assumed he'd hit a wall or something of stone. Slowly, he opened his eyes to confirm this.
A pale young man in white shimmering robes had caught the hoopak in his hand, and was holding it steady. The man's hair, bleached white even though he was not old at all, fell against his shoulders and blended well with his robes. The hand that held the hoopak was bony, strong, and extremely slender. A wan face with insipid eyes seemed to smile at the kender, even though his expression did not change. Firespice felt both uncomfortable and welcomed by his presence.
"Be at ease, Firespice Burrfoot," the man spoke gently. His voice was soft, flowing, but at the same time, commanding. It invoked in Firespice the image of his mother when she was lecturing him over some trivial mistake. However, he was squirming where he stood for this complete stranger was making him feel unease regardless. "Be calm, for I will not hurt you. I have brought you to the edges of the Silvenesti forests, people of my father." Firespice lowered the hoopak, but didn't let down his guard. "Come, we need to get to Godshome quickly to meet with your siblings." Without hesitation to see if Firespice would follow or not, the man turned and began walking. Firespice trotted after from behind with an inquiring look in his eye.
"Who are you?" he asked at length. Having broken the ice with one question, the torrent followed. "Where are we going? Where are my siblings? How do you know me? Are you a prophet? You look like a prophet. Did you see that I was in trouble? Is that how you know my name?" The man gently placed the tips of his fingers over Firespice's mouth, effectively silencing him.
"I am Solinari. We are going to Godshome. That is all that you need to know."
...And then Loki...
Loki's eyes fluttered open, and his vision was filled with dark and twisted tree limbs. Above that seemed to be nothing more than a canopy of starless, moonless night, glaring down on the worn out kender child. A breeze blew, driving the chill of the forest into his veins. He shivered, reaching for the feather around his neck and squeezing it for reassurance. It was a strange object, a magical present from his mother, and it worked only when it wanted to. He still found it to be a warm reminder when all things were confusing to him. Its touch was all he needed to gather his wits about himself.
He felt a flicker of warmth over his cold legs and glanced down to see the trailing hem of a long black robe partially covering him. The man wearing the robe, for he had a masculine bearing about himself, had his face hidden in the depths of his cowl. Try as he might, Loki could see nothing but shadow at every angle.
"You do not walk in darkness, Loki Burrfoot," a deep resonating voice spoke. "Therefore, you cannot see my face, but I plan to help you anyway." Loki was quiet still, wishing wistfully he could see what the man looked like, but remaining fascinated by the hands. Hands as cold and white looking as a corpse were fidgeting with each other for the moment the man had taken them out. Noticing the kender's gaze, he promptly thrust them back into the recesses of his robe and waited expectantly for any reaction.
"Why?" The word fell quietly as a snowflake on the air of a black winter night, smothered by the darkness all around him. Like a pinpoint of light, though, the voice seemed an unnatural contrast in this place while the man's voice gave the impression that he owned it. Nuitari smiled, grimly, but Loki did not know that.
"There are only two immortals my cousins and I fear," said the god. "Dreams, Goddess of Anything, Lady of Creation and Chaos, God of Nothing, Lord of Destruction. Both control everything. Both manipulate magic as if it were clay to be destroyed, shaped, or cast away completely however they see fit. For that, we fear ad adore them both. Nevertheless, Dreams gives us magic and endless possibilities. She encourages the use of magic, creation, and mysticism. Chaos would rather strip it away and disperse it, give it free will to do mayhem on its own." Nuitari paused for a moment. "You see why my cousins and I favor Dreams and are willing to aid her against Chaos." Loki stared at the god in silence.
He was not motivated to much chatter as the rest of his family was. He preferred to listen, to think, and to daydream. Only in music did he let his kender spirit squeal, squeak, and cry out in joy. Rarely in words. So even now, when hundreds of questions were in his head, he remained silent.
"What..." He began to ask a question, give voice to it, but the whisper died on his lips and he thought better of it. He suddenly did not feel compelled to ask. Nuitari was pleased with his discretion and silence.
"You do not let your tongue wag like your kin," noted Nuitari. "I believe we will get along just fine."
When Dreamflight woke, all went from black to white. The cold was so frigid it burned her until she had the thought that she was melting in a great white fireball. Every indrawn breath was agony, and she didn't even have the strength to shiver. She shut her eyes so she could look upon blackness, which seemed a warmer color.
"So this is what it is like to die," she thought. "No wonder mortals fight so much... I wouldn't want to die either, not like this... I thought you just closed your eyes and fell asleep, never to wake again." Feeling a particularly strong gale blast her, she thought, "And that is just what might happen." She was oblivious to her surroundings, not realizing that the wind wasn't howling that loudly, and that crunching snow was growing louder and closer. Someone had come to retrieve her.
An elven man, clad in some of the finest garments of silk, and wearing heavy furs over that, knelt in the snow next to the fallen kender. Carefully, he lay one of the pelts over her after checking for a pulse and the warm breath of life. He wrapped her in it, snugly as he could, and lifted her into his arms, holding him close against himself. Sighing, he turned and walked the way he had come, singing softly under his voice.
Takhisis walked the Abyss irritably, pacing back and forth and letting her rage coil around herself like a scarf. She paused and looked up hopefully as a goblin, one she held in captivity, dragged Tasslehoff to her feet. Now pleased and placated, she bid the goblin leave and looked down at the sleeping kender.
"I could snap you in two for all the troubles you've caused me," she hissed at him. In his sleep, Tas seemed to flinch. "But that would be too merciful. Breaking all your bones and rending your muscles would be too merciful. No... I shall do far worse for you..." She picked up the kender delicately, holding him as one would hold an unwanted stray cat, and conjured up some shackles and chains. She placed him in these and they snapped in place, and still he did not wake from his enchanted sleep that she had cast on him. Nor could any of the gods, any that knew what was transpiring, come to intercede (if they had wanted to) for the curse she had put on him as well as Dreamflight.
"Sleep," she crooned as Tas's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. "Dream your last dream, for you shall wake to your nightmares. The plan is in action and Chaos shall be pleased. Fifteen years we waited for our chance, and you handed it to us on a platter of gold. I thank you, mortal." She curtseyed in mock. "For now the fun begins."
