Angelic Solitude I
The Fate of Innocence
By J. M. Tustison
"The drinker of life shall taste the soul of the light, and within its succulent breast it shall find the meaning of eons."
- Dimble Al'gan Riel
(1450 DR The Year of Holy Thunder)
Chapter Three
The Bloodspark
Present day: 11 Hammer, 1479 DR
(Year of the Ageless One)
A dim light radiated from the windows of town hall in the nameless village. Outside, the crowd that had been gathered for the better part of the day had begun to disperse as day gave way to night and the winter chill of the Nether Mountains forced them reluctantly to their homes.
Inside, dim candles circled an impressive pattern made of fine silver sand. Inside the circle lay the body of Tamshire Ravensage. He was naked from head to toe, covered only by a small loincloth and a bluish salve that had been spread across his skin. Around his chest and head, patterns of mystic force had been drawn with blood. Over his heart sat a palm sized emerald, the light of the candles causing it to cast a greenish light that danced about the room.
Outside the circle sat Eve, drow priestess of Corellon. In hushed whispers that were barely heard by her companions who stood on the outskirts of the room she prayed and chanted. She prayed to Corellon, god of spring, god of beauty, god of magic. She prayed that he be her benefactor to Kelmevor, god of the dead.
For eight hours she sat and prayed. For eight hours the dim candles burned down to their bases. As the light of dawn broke through the Nether Mountains the candles burned themselves out, leaving the large chamber in total darkness. Eve ceased her chanting and after the space of a few heartbeats came to accept that she had been unsuccessful. Her legs throbbed from sitting in the same position for so long and her neck popped as she stretched her muscles. Forlornly she gazed at the unmoving form in the middle of the circle and contemplated her next move.
Without warning the candles relit themselves in radiant blue fire. The silver pattern within their circle burst into glowing trails of sapphire. The salve spread across Tams body began to radiate as the blood lines added their own glow to the mixture. All these lights seemed to mix and converge in a mystical pattern of divine beauty before they coalesced into the emerald. The emerald exploded, shattering into dust. The fine grains danced about the circle turning it into one large column of light.
Tams body floated in the center, the blood lines still glowing through the columns radiance. Finally they winked out, leaving black lines in their wake. In a final burst of energy the column exploded sending droplets of light raining down upon the entire room as Tams body fell to the ground. The room faded into darkness, pierced only by the light of dawn streaming in through the windows, Tams eyes shot open, and he drew breath once again.
Kythorn 16th: 1471 DR (The Year of the Plagued Lords)
(Eight years before the massacre of Falcons Roost)
The world was darkness. Within that darkness there was no thought. No pain. No hatred. Eve began to love the darkness. Within its caress she was secure. All was right with the world and all the worries and cares she couldn't remember now seemed so inconsequential.
The world became light. Within it, from the pit of her stomach to her heart, and branching out to every extremity it could purchase, she burned.
"Poison…" came a thought. She tried to scream. She tried to claw. She tried to breathe fire. She tried in vain.
It lasted only a moment. And once again the world became darkness. She held onto it like a lovers arms. But it wasn't the heaven that it was before. She could burn. It would come again, and without warning. Inside she sobbed, and begged for the darkness to protect her. Whether it did not listen, or even hear, Eve could not have known.
Seconds, minutes, hours later, she did not know, but again the world became fire. She was more aware this time. The fire had found new homes within the tips of her toes and fingers. Her eyes drained themselves of tears that she was sure would sizzle down her ebony face. She could not feel them. A sudden realization hit her that she could not even move. Even her eyelids felt as though the weight of the world were upon them.
Outside the darkness teased, beyond her reach and beckoning to her with promises of sweet release. But she now knew the false promises the darkness held. She would find no respite there. The fire lashed and licked at her mind, numbing her thoughts until they were nothing but pictures and feelings. A cruel face, outlined by a crescent scar. A black wolf dancing along the lines of battle, a small figure mounted upon it armed with blades that seemed to dance about the two like ribbons flowing in the breeze. She saw an air spirit, dancing upon a diminutive palm, enticing mystifying laughter from its owner.
At last she saw light, as radiant as the sun but not uncomfortable to look at. Eve held on to this memory, for within it she found all the hope and love that came with the empty promises of the darkness. The light held in her mind as she found focus. The light coalesced and took shape. Eve saw the light fresh and vivid as it hung upon the neck of a young girl. She stood before her with raven black hair matted to her face and sword raised.
The memory didn't matter. Only the light mattered, and within it Eve found her strength. It held her and washed away the flames. She still could not move but that was a small price to pay. As she lay within the lights embrace she could almost swear she heard a voice. Singing?
* * * * * * * *
Come little Elm, and dance with me…
Under the starlit moon tonight…
Come little Elm and fly with me…
Where the angels sing and play…
Come little Elm and lay with me…
Before the glory of dawn…
As the voice sang, its tone pure and angelic, Eve found herself drawn to it. The light receded, leaving behind a vague sense of emptiness and loss. The pain of the poison had passed, and the absence of the light left her prey to the knotted muscles it left behind.
The angel has no voice to sing…
Little Elm will fill his heart with light…
The angel has no wind for his wing…
Little Elm with fill his heart with light…
The angel now flies with the light in his song…
Little Elm has brought the light of dawn….
For the first time in she knew not how long, Eve opened her eyes. The sting of the poison had left her eyes irritated and dry. It took her a few moments to blink enough moisture into them to let her focus. She found herself lying upon a foul smelling futon cushion. A moment of revulsion hit her as she contemplated what diseased parasites had made their homes in it. Once she realized that she was still too weak to even raise her hand to cover her mouth she tried her best to put it out of her mind.
She weakly moved her head to the side to scan what little of her surroundings as she could. She was in an iron cell, dimly lit by a few everburning lanterns built into the walls outside the bars. The cell was built into the middle of the room, leaving but a few feet between it and the walls. Two windows placed as high as possible on each wall left little to view of the night outside. The sound of crickets drifted through them adding ambiance to the lullaby.
Beside her sat a young girl Eve immediately recognized as Lady Silvermane. The young girl from her memory who bore the light that had helped to shield her from the pain of the poison. She seemed none the worse for wear. In fact she seemed a great deal better off than Eve found herself at the moment.
The child continued to sing in the softest and purest voice Eve had ever heard. Eve couldn't help but be awed at its innocence, like the serenity of gradually falling snow.
There is no forest, without the sun…
Little Elm must bring the light…
No birds can sing. No squirrels can play…
Little Elm, please bring the light…
The forest can grow, the birds can sing…
Little Elm sleeps with the dawn…
The poor girl sat with her legs out before her, knees bent and her head resting on the bars. Her hair looked tousled and matted, while a slight bruise graced her right cheek. No longer dressed in the fine riding clothes she wore before she was now dressed in rags that barely seemed modest. Eve had to hand it to the Obsidian Assembly. Their policy on prisoners, the rare occasions that they took them, left no room for argument on how they were to be treated. Any chance that the captive could affect their own release was neutralized. Wizards usually had it the worst, gagged and bound almost to the point of cutting off circulation.
"That's… beautiful…" Eve said hoarsely. She hadn't even realized her throat was so dry. She let out a painful wheeze as she felt it burn from her tongue to the pit of her stomach. She even managed to find the energy to raise her hand to meekly caress her throat.
Moments later a glass ring touched her lips. Eve opened her clenched eyes to see the child holding a small bottle to her mouth. Although she managed to bring her hand to the container, she was still too weak. A sense of irony and shame came to her as she realized that she was at the mercy of the kindness of this poor child, likely beaten and submitted to untold torments because of her.
The glistening water that poured down her throat was like sweet nectar. Never had anything tasted so pure and vital. She tried to grasp the bottle firmer, to increase its flow. "You mustn't drink too much. They don't give us hardly enough as it is." The girl said as she gently removed the bottle.
Eve sighed in resignation and reveled in the reprieve from the terrible burning. Lady Silverman put her palm over her forehead and grimaced. "You're doing remarkably well… You might even be able to move in a day or so. That poison…" She gave an involuntary shudder.
"Your song… What was it called?" Eve asked, changing the subject. The question seemed to take the girl by surprise. Her whole body tensed for a brief moment until her shocked expression became one of sadness.
"I don't know…" She replied. "It was a nursery song my mother used to sing to me when I was very young, before she…" A single tear threatened to trickle down her cheek before she caught herself. "It helps to calm me when I'm feeling lonely or scared." She gave Eve a weak smile as she took her own sip of water.
"Any idea where we are?" Eve asked, pointedly changing the subject.
"None…" The girl replied as she corked the bottle and set it down. "I was blindfolded the entire way here. But judging from the smells and sounds I hear during the day, I think we're camped in the woods."
Eve couldn't help but smile. If they were in the woods then it was likely Grom would be able to track them, if he was still alive. A dim memory of the caravan camp being overrun with the Knights of Silver flaunted itself in her mind. As she remembered the despair that had come over her as she witnessed Ruk's men being slaughtered a sudden thought came to her.
"How long has it been?" Eve asked apprehensively. A dangerous gleam suddenly cast itself across the girls face.
"A day or two, more or less…" She said, a hint of venom in her voice. "I was out for at least a day. That poison…" Once again she shuddered involuntarily.
"Yes… Ruk takes a lot of pride in it."
"Ruk?"
"Big man with a crescent scar on his face. It was his men who attacked your camp."
The girl nodded. "I've seen him. He comes to check on you every once in a while." She eyed Eve suspiciously. "His men?"
Eve winced at the accusation. "They were under my command. And were told not to kill anyone… but Ruks men aren't known to be very subtle. I'm sorry…"
There was silence between them for a while. Eve took the opportunity to test the extent that she could move. While she was able to flex her muscles weakly, it would be a while before she would be able to sit up. Still she continued to push herself until the effort began to make her nauseous.
"What's your name?" The girl asked. Eve blinked for a second before realizing that neither of them had ever bothered to introduce themselves. Not since she woke up or before, during the battle.
"Eve'ana Ra'Urthan… Everyone just calls me Eve." She said as she managed a weak smile.
"I am Lady Elminderelle Anya Silvermane. Everyone calls me Elm." The girl returned, smiling.
* * * * * * * *
It did not take Eve long to show some signs of recovery. By the next day she was able to sit up, if only for a few minutes. Once a day one of Ruks men would bring meager portions of food and water, and change their toilet bucket. Eve tried in vain to ask questions, but the man pointedly ignored her.
The next day she was able to stay sitting, even managed to wobble on her feet for a bit as well. Elm seemed to take little interest in the oddity of Eve's quick recovery. As though it was to be expected. It wasn't until the third night, as Elm helped Eve to drink from the water bottle that everything became clear. It seemed so silly. She was now more than strong enough to hold the bottle to her lips. Yet still Elm insisted on helping her to drink.
As she been over to hold the bottle her eyes were closed. A gentle warmth seemed to spread from her hand and into the bottle. Eve noticed a slight change in the taste and texture of the water. It was as though the very act of drinking it was replenishing her strength little by little.
Eve gently grasped Elm's arm before she could move away with the bottle.
"It's you…" She said in a hushed whisper. "Your healing me? I thought you had to have your little trinket to do that." She asked.
Elm cast a sullen glance downward while blushing slightly. "I couldn't just let you suffer." She said as she pulled her arm away. "The symbol is just a focus. With concentration, anyone trained in the divine arts can do it. But it's usually not as effective. My teachers were really impressed with my aptitude for casting without a symbol, but I prefer to have it with me. I feel… hollow without it."
Eve nodded as understanding came to her. This child was missing a sacred piece of herself, and it was Eves fault. "So the poison?" Eve asked
Elm sat on the other side of the cell and stared out the window and shook her head. "I couldn't just heal you. It would have given away what little advantage it gives me. When your healed I'll need the element of surprise to escape." She turned her head to glare at Eve. "It wasn't I who burned the poison out of you. That was Corellon."
Eve cocked an eyebrow and returned Elms glare. "What do you mean?"
"I told you before outside our camp. The star wasn't reacting to me." Elm replied as she smiled coyly. "That light was for you. Any more than that is not for me to know. If you want to know more you'll have to survive this place and seek out a priest of Corellon. I'm only a paladin, and simply an apprentice at that."
Eve stared down at her hands as she contemplated the girl's words. Corellon? Eve had never given any real thought to the gods. Corellon was an elvan god wasn't he? Sure she was an elf, but she was also drow. Everything she had ever heard of her kin said that they were devout followers of the dark goddess, Lolth. What could a god of the light elves want with her?
"I wasn't aware Humans could become paladins of an elvan god…" Eve said as she gave Elm a suspicious gaze. Elm returned with a smirk of her own.
"Believe it or not, there are quite a few humans among the order. A few dwarves too. But I am neither." She said as she pulled her hair back along the right side of her face to reveal a pointed ear. Eve stared at her cellmate quizzically. This young girl was full of surprises. She had never seen a half elf who looked so distinctly human before.
Elm gave an amused chuckle and returned to staring out the window. Silence reigned for several minutes while Eve contemplated her new predicament. Finally Elm broke the silence. "Can I ask you… why?" She asked, never taking her eyes off the window.
Eve looked up at her questioningly. Elm turned to look intently over at Eve, her face full of scorn. "Why did you attack our camp? Why did you steal the artifact? Surely you know what could happen if the wrong person gets a hold of it?!"
Eve leaned her head back against the bars, closed her eyes and sighed. She had been expecting this. Since she woke she could feel this question hiding behind the girl's lips, begging to be asked. "The attack was supposed to be a diversion if I was seen. A simple hit and run to scatter your horses and create chaos. No one was supposed to die. As for the package, I don't even know what it was."
Shock cast itself across Elms face. "You're not serious… You stole something so important without even knowing what it was?!" She stood to her feet and glared at Eve accusingly.
Eve kept her eyes closed tight. "You don't know me. I had no choice…" She whispered.
"I don't need to know you. You're a thief!" Elm accused.
Eve sighed as she finally opened her eyes to return Elms stare and replied calmly. "Whether I be a thief or no, it don't change the facts… You need me!" She ended in a shout. "Or do you really think that you'll be able to get out of here on your own? You, who have never even killed before? It's not as easy as you seem to think. At least… not the first time." Eve finished in a whisper and cast her eyes back down to her hands as she folded them on her lap.
Elm didn't back down. She stayed on her feet and glared down at Eve furiously. Eve wondered what could possibly have gotten the girl so riled up. What had been in that package?
A grunting laugh came from across the room. Both captives turned to the door in the room to see Ruk leaning on the doorframe, smirking at both of them. He seemed just as arrogant as the last time Eve had seen him. In his right hand he wielded a longsword baring the mark of the Obsidian Assembly, in his left a metal ring that bore but one key. "So sorry." He laughed sarcastically as he moved toward the cell. "Am I interrupting something?" He was followed by four of his men who surrounded the cell armed with crossbows, two pointed at each of them.
Eve cast her captor a slight smile. "Hello Ruk, come to surrender?"
"Heh… always the funny one. Your looking well. Very well. Can't say I've ever seen anyone take so much of that poison and live. And yet here you are. I'd even bet your able to stand. Your just full of surprises." As he finished his eyes settled on Elm, giving her an appraising stare.
"Maybe your poison isn't all you think it's cracked up to be." Elm replied. Ruk smirked back at her ruefully.
"Don't matter none. The master wants to meet you. He'll be here any minute." Eve held her intake of breath. Master? He wasn't working for the assembly? This could be a blessing in disguise. He motioned to the guards. "One false move and you won't live to see the outside of that cell… No drow tricks. No childish whining. Got it?" Ruk smiled as he twirled the key ring on his finger.
Eve nodded and wobbled to her feet. Elm backed away a step, her face full of concern. Eve touched her shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile. For a second the malice returned to Elms face before giving way to acceptance. Ruk slowly opened the cage and motioned for the two to step out. They did as they were told, the crossbows following them the entire way.
They were led outside. Instantly they were assaulted by the flagrant smells of cookfires and meat. The building was built partially into the ground. As they emerged they saw a half dozen tents built around it. Two other men stood outside the door, their own crossbows ready and pointed at the two captives.
"My my…" Came a sharp and melodic voice from the darkness of the forest. "So much fuss over two little girls…"
They stopped just outside the building and were forced to their knees. Ruk stiffened fearfully as he kneeled before the dark figure emerging out of the forest. The figure was draped head to toe in a shadowy shroud that whipped about him like the skin of a snake. Pale hands poked out of his sleeves, matching the chin protruding from his hood. He seemed to float to them, not walk, and as he came closer Eve noticed a blood red symbol hanging about his neck that she reluctantly recognized. It was the symbol of Asmodeous, ruler of the nine hells. His very presence sent a chill down Eve's spine and all hope she had of getting out of this alive seemed to freeze with it.
Elm seemed just as taken aback by the newcomer as Eve. She almost hissed as the shrouded figure floated toward them. Especially when he reached them and pulled back his hood to reveal a gaunt face that framed a set of blood red eyes. He smiled at them revealing a set of sharp teeth. "A vampire?!" Eve thought to herself. She gulped hard as her mind went through various scenarios for escape.
Ruk motioned to one of the crossbowmen as he stood up. The man immediately rushed into one of the tents and emerged with a long drawstring bag. The package Eve was meant to steel from Elms caravan. "Only half as necessary, m'lord Mordin." Ruk shakily replied. "The drow is more skilled than she looks. I thought it prudent to take no chances."
The vampire Mordin nodded and seemed to let out an insane giggle as he looked from Eve to Elm, finally setting his eyes on the bag the crossbowman carried. His eyes lit up with anticipation and impatience.
Ruk quickly grabbed the bag from the crossbowman and presented it to his master. "As promised m'lord. To easy, just as I told you." He smiled. Eve compared him to a dog eagerly waiting to be scratched by his master. It was an unsettling image she ever thought to see from the likes of Ruk.
Mordin barley seemed to notice Ruk as he tore the bag from his hands. He ripped the drawstring on the bag open to reveal a bone carved handle framed in an obsidian sheaf. He tossed the remains of the bag away and glared in awe at his new prize.
"At last… after a hundred years…" He seemed to gasp and giggle at the same time. He slid the dagger out of its sheaf to reveal a red crystalline blade. Its pommel was adorned by a sapphire that seemed to glow and pulse. Along the blade was carved an intricate language that Eve had never seen. "At last… The Bloodspark is mine again…" Mordin giggled. His insanity reeked off him in waves causing Eve to shudder.
Ruk smiled proudly as he turned to the two captives. "And so what should we do with these two mas…" He was cut off as Mordin twisted the dagger in his palm and shoved it into Ruks chest. He laughed gleefully as he twisted the dagger into Ruks flesh.
At first Ruks face was one of surprise. He stared at Eve as though she could answer some strange question that suddenly sprung to his mind. Abruptly his expression changed to one of intense pain and slowly faded to absolute panic.
The sapphire within the daggers pommel began to glow. Ruk let out a deafening scream as his eyes began to radiate the same bright bluish light. His muscles twitched and writhed until finally Mordin ripped the dagger from Ruks chest and held it up for inspection. Ruk fell to his knees, staring Eve strait in the eyes.
Within his eyes she saw nothing. Everything that he once was, was now gone as though his very soul had been ripped from his body. He slid to the ground, dead. As Eve stared at the corpse of a man she probably hated more than any other she couldn't help but think that they were all going to die… and it was all her fault.
Present day: 12 Hammer, 1479 DR
(Year of the Ageless One)
Tam's eyes shot open as he gasped for air. Immediately he choked and wheezed. The gods knew what clogging his lungs he sat upward and clutched his sides. A hand reached out and rubbed his back in the darkness. "Easy now. It will pass." Came a sweet feminine voice. Tam's eyes bulged as he coughed up a mountain of dust and spit it into a bucket he could barely make out in front of him. As he settled down and lay back in a rather comfortable bed he saw the bucket taken away and tossed to the shadows of the room. The woman moved away from the bed and sat in a chair in the darkest corner of the room.
Slowly he caught his breath and took in his surroundings. It was a small room lightly bathed in moonlight that poured in from the window behind him. A wooden dresser adorned the right wall, a wash basin sitting beside it. The oaken door at the far end of the room seemed old and worn. Random paintings of various people as well as hideously tacky ornaments decorated the wall. Obviously not an inn room. No proprietor would ever be so stupid as to assault his guests with such ugly decor.
Finally he rested his gaze on the dark figure waiting patiently in the corner. She seemed to take humor in his interest. He could almost feel her coy smile. "The gods did not part with your soul easily… or cheaply, Tamshire Ravensage."
For a brief moment he wondered what the devil the woman was going on about. Then suddenly a flood of memories came back to him. A packed tavern, all waiting to hear his songs and tales. A girl, white as new fallen snow and more deadly than an angry demon. Death, destruction, and a lucky bottle of merlot. All these things seemed to converge in Tams head as they led to the roof of the inn falling on his head.
He remembered waking a few minutes later to find himself trapped in the darkness under the wreckage. His stomach had howled with pain from the insane girls stab wound. Painfully he had managed to get a potion of healing out of his pack to stem the bleeding.
After that came the waiting. Surly someone would have searched the wreckage for survivors. Stupid back country louts. Tam shivered as he remembered the last three days of agonizing hunger and thirst.
Wait… What did she say? The gods didn't part…? No, that couldn't be. Surely the stupid villagers must have gotten him out just in time. If he had died surly he would remember something of the great beyond. Otherwise what was the point?
Abruptly the woman in the darkness chuckled. Tam cocked an eyebrow at her. "Have I said something funny, m'lady?" The woman got up and slowly made her way to the foot of his bed. Tam silently cursed the moonlight as he realized it was keeping his eyes from completely adjusting to the darkness.
"Not said, no. In my short time as a priestess of Corellon I've only seen four others brought back from the great beyond. And so far each of them, you included, has had the exact same reaction when told that they'd died. I meant no offence." Her voice was ripe with humor and Tam found himself wondering where in the hells he had heard it before.
Tam let out a relaxing sigh as he stared at the ceiling. He died. It was a tough concept to wrap his head around. He, the great Tamshire Ravensage… had died not from angry audience or an insane girl with social issues…but of hunger. How embarrassing.
Finally he let out a chuckle and sat back up. "And who might you be, oh great priestess of Corellon? One of my many adoring fans perhaps? I have you to know I give much better than just an autograph to those who bring me back from the dead. And it would be such a shame to let such a fine bed go to waste." He said giving her his most inviting smile.
She returned his chuckle as she strolled over to the lamp atop his bed table. Tam began to wonder whether he really was alive or just inconceivably lucky as she turned it alight. One look at her ebony face, shadowed by the hood of her cloak but still unmistakable, turned his thoughts in the opposite direction.
He stared at her knowing smile for a few moments and turned back to face the room. His hand unconsciously rose to his chin as he contemplated his reaction. After several false starts he settled for a mild curse.
"Eve'ana… I thought you were adventuring all over Faerûn with the Silver Maiden… or dead." Tam finally said as he slumped himself over his knees. Eve had taken the moment of awkward silence to return to her seat.
"I thought you were alive… and in Calimshan last I'd heard." She replied tensely, obviously dodging his question.
"Hmph… Turns out the genasi are not very open to stories that paint them in an unfavorable light. Who knew?" He chuckled as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. "And you? How is the great Lady Silvermane these days? I heard about that nasty business with the Cult of Asmodeous. But that was what? Two years ago? A long time to go without word from the heroes of the land."
He looked up after she didn't reply. The strain she had had in her voice was now echoed in her eyes. Finally she returned his stare. "So... tell me about that night… in the Falcons Roost. Tell me about Winter." She asked.
Tam closed his eyes and shuddered. "Her name is Winter? How… fitting. Not much to tell really. A few people managed to get out; surely at least one of them told you what transpired. A psychotic young girl, probably about fifteen to sixteen years old, but who can honestly say, came in to the bar during my act and sat down. Next thing I know the walls are being repainted in maroon and the roof is falling on my head."
Eve nodded her head slowly before asking "Did she say or do anything strange? Besides murdering anyone foolish enough to get close?"
Tam shook his head. "Not a single word. Except…"
Eve cocked an eyebrow. "Well… she sang… most frightening thing I've ever seen. Here this girls is, slicing open anyone she can reach with not so much as a twitch of emotion, and right out of the blue she starts singing."
Eve stared at him disbelieving. "You're not serious…"
Tam grunted. "As serious as a troll and fire. Some strange lullaby. Don't quite remember the words, was pissin myself at the time. Anyway she finished her tune and then stuck her sword through me." Tam grunted at the end, rubbing his midsection.
"And yet you survived." Eve asked suspiciously.
"Not sure why… Told the wench I'd see her in hell and she got all flustered. Only time I saw her register any kind of emotion. Scared me almost as much as her song. Anyway, I used that as my chance to end things. I shot my dagger at a support rope and made for a window. Damned backwater craftsmanship. Should be a law against making windows so high."
Eve shook her head at his poor attempt at humor. "That song you mentioned. Are you sure you don't remember any of the words?" She asked hopefully.
"Not really. Had the word elm in it a lot. Must have been a druid song." He replied, noting her reaction. She seemed happy for some reason, almost on the verge of tears. "Come little Elm, and dance with me. Under the starlit moon tonight…" She sang softly. Tam felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end.
"Yes… That's it… How did you?" He tensely asked. He barely heard her whispered reply.
"She's still in there… somewhere…"
A few moments past before one of them spoke again. "So now that I've shared my harrowing experience, how about returning the favor? What was that thing? And don't tell me it was a vampire or lich." Tam asked as he got up to search for his clothes. He stretched out his arms and legs and was marveled to find that he was nearly fully recuperated. A slight twinge in his muscles gave hint to greater soreness to come, but as he understood it that was to be expected. He'd spoken to others that were brought back to life after a premature end. Each of them had made a perfect recovery after only a day or two.
"To be honest we're not sure what she is. Galen has been all over the library in Crystalholt. There's no precedent to be found to explain her power or actions. She doesn't seem to be looking for anything. She just wanders from place to place." She said slowly as though still lost in thought.
"So she's just killing at random?" Tam asked. Eve shook her head.
"I don't think it's intentional. In every instance where she has left a pile of bodies there has been evidence that she might have been provoked in some way. Do you remember what she was doing in the tavern just before everything started? Did it seem she was there for a fight."
Tam stopped ruffling through the drawers in the dresser long enough to ponder the question. "No… She sat in the back I think. As far away from the crowd as she could get. Hmmm…"
"What?"
"There was a man… backward country lout started up a game of dice right in the middle of my "Legend of Icewind Dale". He got up in the middle of the fifth verse and sat with her… poor bastard must not have known when to keep his trap shut." Tam almost chuckled. The lout's behavior had upset him, but not enough to wish the poor bumkin dead. "So why did she kill every other destitute sop there?"
Eve shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know… I think maybe she's cursed somehow. Maybe once she gets going she can't stop until there's no one left. Witnesses say that after the tavern collapsed she climbed out of the wreckage and simply walked out of town without hurting a soul.
Finally Tam found his pack stuffed under the bed. With an exasperated sigh he pulled it out and swung it over the bed. He quickly pulled out a spare change of clothes and began to dress. "So what's your stake in all this? The Silver Maiden herself hunting this thing? I'd love to get a chance to meet her if I'm going to compose this ballad." He asked, taking great care to judge her reaction. Something wasn't quite right here. He could easily tell that Eve was hiding something; he just couldn't put his finger on what.
"Lady Silvermane… is dead." She said flatly as she looked away. Tam stopped buttoning his shirt and stared guiltily at the floor.
"I'm sorry." He said weakly. "Winter?"
Eve nodded her head solemnly. "About two years ago. I've been chasing her ever since."
Tam finished dressing and sat on the bed, his arms folded. "There was a group of adventurers in the tavern that night. Not the most powerful bunch I've ever seen but they weren't slouches either. Elf put a sword right through the girl. Didn't even slow her down. In fact I think it was part of the plan. She slew them all without so much as breaking a sweat."
As he finished he looked over at Eve. She was still facing the wall, trying not to look at him. "This is what your hunting. No doubt you're a skilled priestess now. I would love to hear how in the nine hells that happened, but you would have be powerful to bring me back from the dead." Tam laughed. "And I assume Grom and Kezzlit are still with you. You mentioned Galen, a wizard if he has access to Crystalholt. Grom alone makes you a more powerful group than the poor bastards in the inn… but I can't help but wonder if it will be enough… How can you kill such a creature?"
Eve stood up and approached the dresser. As she moved she reached into her coat and brought out a bone hilted dagger. In one deft swing she launched it into the top of the dresser, embedding the tip into the wood. Its blade seemed to be made of blood red crystal with a pommel made from a bright blue sapphire.
"Its name… is Bloodspark."
* * * * * * * *
Grom stared out from the ally as he watched Galen prepare the horses inside the stable. The chilled wind gave a hint of a snowstorm possibly on the rise. Leaving today was a bad idea, but if it began to snow there was no telling how long they would be trapped here. And given the disposition of the villagers, staying could prove more dangerous than braving the mountain paths.
"And your sure she's headed to Sundabar?" Perciel asked. Grom's only reply was a stern glance. Perciel sat on the ground against a mighty silver gryphon as it slept on a mound of hay. Her strawberry blonde hair spilling down her backside framing a pixyish face as her pointed elvan years sparkled with gems. A bluish hued mithral chainmail bearing the mark of the Knights of Silver adorned her body while suspicious eyes, solid orbs of green, returned his glare.
She nodded and gave him a concerned smile. "And what do you think Eve'ana will say when she learns of this? I was under the impression that she wanted to avenge Lady Elm."
Grom snorted in response. "Eve is too… distracted to do what needs to be done, and I cannot leave her side. And so I must leave it to you. I warn you, do not underestimate Winter."
He gave a nod as Perciel woke the gryphon and mounted it. "We'll wait till you arrive if we find her before you, unless it threatens the lives of others to do so. You've earned that much. I only hope Eve'ana will forgive you."
Grom shook his head and grunted. "I swore a blood oath to protect her, even if I must protect her from herself. Besides… this is more than just protecting Eve…" He clutched the wedding band he had tied about his neck, a solid orb containing the soul of a tiny air elemental. "This is vengeance…"