Kays, here it is again! sorry, things have been crazy for the both of us lately, but this one's extra, EXTRA long to make up for that. Hope you like it, even though I warn you, it's a bit sad...
Sound the bugle now.
Play it just for me.
As the seasons change,
Remember how I used to be.
Now I can't go on;
I can't even start.
I've got nothing left, just an empty heart.
I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight.
There's nothing more for me.
Lead me away, or leave me lyin' here
-- Sound the Bugle, Bryan Adams
Maerad stared in silence at the letter, her eyes unmoving, only gazing upon the faded writing with a mixed expression of shock and horror. Soon her blue orbs glazed over, and she staggered back, feeling faint, and the letter flapped in her trembling hand as the shock finally sank in. Cadvan stepped forwards, as if in concern, but a swift glance from most of the council members made him meekly back away as Maerad tried to master herself. She took a deep, shuddering breath and then looked up, eyes filling with tears that threatened to pool over in an immense wave of emotion.
I can't act like this, she told herself firmly as she bit back the tears. I am the First Bard of Innail. Maerad of Pellinor; Maerad of Innail, Elednor Edil-Amarandh na. Innail may be assuaged by dark forces, but that doesn't mean we'll give up. And I must be strong for that reason. For a moment, she simply closed her eyes and breathed, and then found the courage to look back at them, her posture straight and hard as she tried to hide her internal agony.
"Well, I…This is a mistake," she said at last, shaking her head woefully. "I must return. To Innail. They need me." Desperation suddenly took hold of her, and she felt its binding hands pulling her, and already she was back at Innail. "Don't you see? Enkir's going to attack?" she said, waving her hands to the window. "In a few days, all of Annar could be assailed."
"So what do we do?" asked Cadvan, feeling strangely calm in the midst of all the turmoil. She looked up into his eyes, and suddenly wanted to simply sit there and gaze into those sapphire jewels that had so captivated her from the beginning. He was the rock in her storm, the one place of solid ground she had to stand on. It had always been that way. And to think, she had almost entirely cut him out of her life yesterday, as if he were just a patch on the quilt of her life that could simply be re-sown with something better.
But there wasn't anything better.
She wrenched her eyes away, heart pounding as the pain of losing him caught up with her again. For there wasn't anything better, but he belonged to Nerili now…
Breathing heavily, she looked around the table, a demanding presence taking over her demeanor, and her eyes were cold.
Cadvan watched, and waited silently for what she had to say. When Maerad spoke, people listened, and he was not excluded from that group.
"We must fight him," she said, gathering her skirts in her hand and stepping upon the table. All of them gazed up at her without surprise; it seemed like the sort of thing she would do. She stood proud and straight and looked at them all. "That is why we must fight. Saliman will go back to the new Turbansk, and defend it with his life," she said, nodding to him. Her voice carried effortlessly as emotion began to fill her voice. "Nerili will go back to Busk and do the same," she said, and Cadvan saw the skin around her eyes tighten, and a smile slightly lifted his lips. "And I will return to Innail," she said, voice shaking, "And will give it my all." She pushed some hair back from her forehead, and lifted her chin with the same old stubbornness that Cadvan loved.
Loved? Surely…I don't love it. Fondness, that's it. The stubbornness I'm fond of, he corrected himself quickly, before listening to the rest of her speech.
"Cadvan of Norloch will stay here, to defend his city in case Enkir changes his plans," she said, more quietly now, and Cadvan tried to tell himself that he was imagining the pain in her eyes. "And First Bards from all schools will be distributed evenly among the attacked cities, for their power combined will help us greatly." Maerad pursed her lips a moment, and then looked at her feet. When she looked up, her eyes were grim. "And then perhaps we will survive."
Everyone was silent, and not a soul stirred in the forgotten silence as each contemplated her or his own thoughts.
Maerad was quiet as she slowly walked the length of the table, and Cadvan wordlessly helped her down. He set her upon the ground, but didn't loosen his hold on her and he stared wordlessly at her, while Maerad looked miserably up into his eyes. The council members didn't notice their silent exchange and only sat, forlornly regarding their options. But neither Maerad nor Cadvan noticed the others either, and they just looked searchingly into one another's faces. Maerad felt his breath against her cheek, and his eyes boring holes into her own.
Maerad, you can't really…go…
I have to. It's Innail.
But…
Cadvan, let me go.
Maerad, please…A sudden desperation gripped him, and he tightened his hold around her.
Her eyes widened. Cadvan, I have to defend Innail. And you have a new life here.
But you are part of my new life, remember?
I am, Cadvan, and you in mine. But that's just it. It's a new life. New.
Maerad, I won't let you leave me again.
You left me last time.
You made me!
Maerad gasped and tore herself away. "I've got to go now. I can't stay here any longer," she whispered. "Innail needs my help…I'll….I'll send letters," she said, but it came out as a quiet sob, before she turned and ran.
"Maerad!" he cried, before he could stop himself, and the council of Bards looked on in surprise. He gazed at them, breathing harshly, before he quickly asked, "We'll take her plan. Is the vote unanimous?"
They nodded wordlessly.
"Good. Meeting is adjourned," he said raggedly, and then took off after Maerad.
"Maerad!" Cadvan shouted as he plunged through the oaken doors, looking this way and that, his eyes ablaze, almost as if with insanity.
She can't leave. She…she left once, and I…I couldn't handle it…
He took a deep breath, looking around, and ran down the corridor that led to her room, and threw open the door, praying he wasn't too late, praying they could work things out. He hadn't meant to say what he had; he had never meant to hurt her. He hadn't wanted to say it…
He ran through the door, breath having ceased to issue from his lips in his desperation.
And she wasn't there.
It was deserted.
Empty.
He sank to his knees in shock. She really was gone. And once more they were apart. Once more, he hadn't said what he had wanted to, and things had ended in disaster. He had let himself get too wrapped up in unimportant things; things so insignificant it almost hurt to think about them. All that mattered was them. He hated to admit it, but she was the one who kept him awake at night, her imaginary fingers stroking his cheek, her imaginary lips murmuring sweet nothings like she always used to. It was all he had wanted; to see her again…and now he had gone and ruined it all, and he had let her leave. He couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted all his feelings to dissolve, to simply let go, to end anything unimportant and only focus on what mattered…but he didn't and it was too late.
And I never said goodbye.
Maerad ran down to the stables, her eyes filled with tears. She didn't bother going to her room to get her belongings, she knew it would just be the first place Cadvan looked. Instead, she flew into the stables, surprising all the horses.
Darsor, still Cadvan's stallion, nickered to her over his door, but Maerad didn't stop to greet him. She hurried into Imi's stall, which was next to the great stallion's, and threw on her tackle with unnatural haste.
Maerad! Is something wrong? asked Imi in concern.
What does it look like? she hissed through tears.
Imi lowered her ears in distaste. Maerad, will you tell me what's going on?
I don't want to talk about it…she whispered, biting back tears.
Darsor watched, ears pricked, and then shook his great black head. Cadvan told you, didn't he?
Told me what? She asked, without turning around, and her hands were shaking as she tightened the straps on Imi's saddle, and the mare threw up her head when she pulled it up too far in her agitation.
You know well what I mean, Maerad.
Oh yeah? So what if he did? He has his life now…he has Neri. He can do what he wants. I just don't want him to drag me into it.
But Maerad…
Don't do this to me, Darsor. If he can't decide what he wants in his life, then I'll decide for him. And again, it's my fault, she said bitterly as she pulled Imi's headstall roughly over her ears.
What, did he say that?
Not in so many words…
You know he does not mean it, Darsor said quietly. He just does not want you to leave. Maerad, listen to me: When we rode to Norloch those ten years ago, he was heartbroken. And I do not think…I do not think he ever got over it. And I don't think you did either. And now the slightest thing will set you both off balance. Listen to your heart, Maerad. Please, don't be rash. You balance on the edge of a knife.
Maerad was silent, pondering his wisdom, but she pursed her lips and mounted Imi before she looked back at him.
Darsor…if you see him, tell him I…I…
Yes?
Maerad shook her head, tears now streaming openly from her face, and she kicked Imi much harder than necessary, and the mare leapt sideways and reared slightly before galloping out upon nimble feet, as fast as she could go, for she felt her mistress's desperation as her own.
Darsor stared sadly after them, and then called after them with a piercing neigh.
Maerad paid it no heed and only spurred Imi faster. The mare, sensing her discomfort nickered sympathetically despite the rough way in which Maerad was treating her. Maerad felt a flood of guilt washing over her, but she didn't know what it was for…Imi, Cadvan, or herself.
But she ignored that as well, and once she had passed the gates of Norloch, she flew over the downs and disappeared upon the horizon, fading into the grey skies like the migratory birds that fly far, far away…
But sometimes, those birds return…
Cadvan lay sprawled upon her bed, unable to drag himself away from her room. He was pale, lethargic, and disbelieving of all that had happened. She had left. He had ruined it all again. And now, she wasn't coming back.
Damn you, Cadvan, he growled to himself, pushing back the hair from his forehead in an exasperated way when he finally noticed it. He furiously clenched and unclenched his hands, trying to master his grief and annoyance with himself.
Why had he said that to her? Why had he said she made him do it? It had just woken up all those old agonies and pains within them, and he had known as soon as the words were out of his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say, and he desperately wished he could take it back. But it had been too late, and he had seen that pain in her eyes…the horror, the sadness, and something else he didn't care to name…
She hates me now, he thought dolefully. I'm sure of it.
He sighed, knowing this thinking wasn't getting him anywhere, and decided to go back to his office and calm himself down, and possibly have a drink…or a few drinks…He just hoped he wouldn't see anyone along the way.
With great difficult, he threw his legs over the edge of the downy mattress, and pushed himself up before he took a few hesitant steps to the door. His hand on the knob, he looked back over his shoulder.
The room was untouched, and looked as if it were holding its breath, waiting for some indefinable, but inevitable, explosion. It seemed to be silently watching him, waiting for him to do something, but he didn't know what. It was Maerad's room. And he couldn't do anything to it. A fierce possessiveness welled over him, and he opened the door and walked quickly out before he shut it and leaned against it, breathing heavily. Then he took out a key in his shaking fingers and locked it.
There. No more Maerad. Maybe in that room he had locked up their soul, and all the horrible memories she had stolen from him. In that room, he could hide all the things she had said, and the things she had done. And all the things they never would do. In that room, he shut away the truths of what he wanted; all his wildest hopes and dreams.
In her room, he shut away any possibilities of a 'them.'
"There," he breathed with a finalization he did not feel, before he walked away from the sad, empty room.
"Come in," Cadvan called in a monotone as he stared out the window of his chamber.
He didn't turn around, but he heard the door open and then softly close, and gentle footsteps coming hesitantly towards him.
For a moment, he closed his eyes, imagining that it was Maerad. She would come back and stand in front of the door for minutes on end, nervously biting her lip, before she would sweep back her hair away from her face and tentatively knock. She would hear his voice, and guilt would wash over her as she slowly walked in, running over words to say in her brain. She would see him, and want to apologize desperately, and walk uncertainly over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He would turn and see her face, and when their eyes met, they wouldn't have to say anything, and they would know, and all would be forgiven.
But he knew it wasn't true, and he turned to look at the person coming in and saw that it was Nerili.
"Greetings, Nerili," he said tiredly. "What brings you here?"
Nerili saw that he was as stone, as unfilled with emotion as a lifeless rock. It hurt her to know that he was suffering like that, and it hurt her even more to know that she was one of the causes for that suffering.
"Cadvan," she said timidly, "we need to talk."
He normally would have raised an eyebrow in surprise, but he just nodded and offered her a seat, wordlessly pouring them drinks. She was silent until he handed her the wine and sat down, and then she set the drink down and took one of his hands, tracing the weathered lines and scars gently while trying to make up her mind.
"Many years ago," she began, "You came to Busk. Oh, you were the charmer, even if you were still trying to get over Ceredin's death. You still had your looks, and your witty words and sense of humor. I couldn't blame myself for falling in love with you; every other petty, foolish girl I know did. But what surprised me was when you started showing interest in me, a fiery little Thoroldian maid. I was thrilled, but at the same time, I suspected something."
She paused, as if judging his reactions, but he waved at her to go on. She took another deep breath, knowing that this was as hard for him as it was for her, even though it was not for the same reasons.
"I thought you might be using me to get over Ceredin's death. Surely, the thought only lurked in the back of my mind, but you didn't look at me like I was the only thing in the world. My other friends had lovers who did, and when I saw them, so very much in love, something made me see that I would never be like that with you. And this nagging doubt pursued, threatening our relationship, until finally we had that argument."
Nerili took a sip from her laradhel, feeling it burning down her throat, before she went on in a shaky voice. "You said that Norloch needed you. You said that fate worked in strange ways, and something was drawing you back to help your country. You said you needed to pay your dues for what you had done. I argued all those points, saying fate had brought you to me, saying you had paid your debts twice over already. But you refused, and that was when I knew that my fears were true, and you left, and I didn't see you again for almost 30 years…
"But then who should turn up on my doorstep one day but you and your companion, Maerad of Pellinor. She was a shy, charming thing, but I could sense the great power she held within, and even scent her Thoroldian blood, burning bright within like the Fire Lily she was. Is. At first, I felt pity for her, to be traveling with you," she admitted, stirring her glass distractedly, "I thought she must be some sort of compensation for Ceredin as well, and I didn't want one such as her to be hurt like that. But then I began to see things, things almost unnoticeable: I saw the way she would stare from one of us to the other when we talked of our past selves, and the jealousy that haunted her eyes, even though she tried desperately not to show it. I saw how she would turn her face away whenever we spoke of the ways of the hearts. But I saw more things…I saw the way you would unconsciously grasp her hands, or stare at her in silent tenderness whenever she leaned closer to you. I thought perhaps maybe this was your chance to let go, and mine as well. I thought maybe this girl, this girl who was blossoming into the beauty of her womanhood, would be the one who set us both free into our true selves.
"And Cadvan," she said, looking up, eyes shining with tears. "She was. For a time. Too short a time, I might add. And then you came back, and I was here again, and once more, I was the one who compensated for your loss. And again, you were the one who accepted my affection, and even cherished it – for a time. But then, just a little while ago, she came back, and I could see it in your eyes: you thought you hid it well, Cadvan, but you didn't. I was horribly jealous, and I was filled with pain, because I knew it would happen again. But I was also a bit…happy, Cadvan. I wanted you to be happy, and I want me to be happy, too. And who are we kidding? I could never be happy with you, and never could you be happy with me when all you wanted was her. And so I've been thinking, Cadvan," she said slowly, getting up and walking to the window, while he watched, his heard pounding, "I was thinking that maybe, we should…"
"Neri, are you saying…"
"Cadvan, yes. I'm thinking we should…we should…we should call of the marriage," she said at last. She took a deep breath. "Cadvan, we know it's not working. We've known it for a while. Maerad just made us realize it, and truly see it. And perhaps, Maerad has not destroyed us, but has instead saved us from the horror and sadness we would become, as I hoped she would all those years ago." She turned around, gazing at him with woeful, and yet glad, eyes.
Cadvan stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment. She had been so obsessed with this marriage, and it was hard to believe that their engagement – their very engagement – was something she could call off. But here she was, standing before him in all seriousness, doing that very same thing. He stood up, heart pounding, and took her hands in his. He fingered the ring on her hand. "Nerili, are you…are you sure?"
"As sure as I ever have been," she said quietly, and slipped off the glittering diamond, reflecting privately that she still wasn't so sure at all, but she did it all the same. Taking a deep breath, she quickly handed it to him, but he put a hand up.
"Neri, keep it. To…to remember me. Not as your lover, but as your friend." He smiled uncertainly, wrapping her in a tender embrace. She felt tears in the corners of her eyes, but smiled and held him tightly for the last time. Then she stepped back and they both breathed steadily for a few moments, before Nerili bowed and stepped away towards the door.
"Well, I must go back to Busk. Um…wish us luck. In the battle, I mean. May the Light shine onto your path," she said, a bit awkwardly.
"And unto yours," he said. "Farewell, Nerili."
He smiled as she left, but turned around surprised as she re-entered. "Yes?"
"There's one more thing I forgot to say…"
"Yes?" he said again.
"I'm wishing you luck as well. For Norloch certainly, but more for you and Maerad." She smiled softly. "Win her again, Cadvan. You were always meant for her, and she for you. Just wanted you to know that."
His face was astonished as she left, and this time, she did not come back.
Cadvan sank into a chair and stared at his laradhel for a few minutes, unable to process any thoughts. But suddenly, it was as if something clicked in his brain, and he hurriedly stood up and flew to his desk, where he sat down, dipped a pen in ink, and began furiously writing one more letter.
1 WEEK LATER
Maerad strode through the iron outposts of Innail, shouting orders emotionlessly and fighting alongside her fellow swordsmen and women as they battled. They were already hard pressed, and even the full of Enkir's soldiers had not dared pass through their defenses.
"Cowards," she muttered as she climbed the stairs to the northernmost tower, her mail and battle armor jingling as she galloped up the stairs. But in all honesty, she was glad of it. Their forces weren't nearly as strong as she wanted them to be, and with the fighting that had already ensued, she knew it would be a nightmarish battle ahead of them when the true strength of Enkir's army cast its iron fist upon them.
She threw open the door at the top of the tower, lunging through and walking into the room to see Indik and Camphis conversing over a series of documents and weaponry. She saluted them with her sword, and stepped forwards and looked over the papers, pushing stray hairs back into the tight twist she wore it in for battle.
"Is there a problem, gentleman? We need you and your skills out defending the gate. Even the best trained students of yours, Indik," she said, glancing pointedly at him, "can't defend it by themselves for long."
Camphis nodded, passing his hand over his face and scratching his chin distractedly. "We were trying to see who to deploy where," he sighed, gesturing to the many leaflets on the table before them. "And Maerad, if I may say so, I won't lie to you: It will be a miracle if any of us get out of this alive."
Indik raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's blunt. But while we're still breathing, there's hope." He smiled a savage sort of smile, and then picked up his sword. "To the gates then," he said, before quickly striding from the room and heading into the chaos beyond.
Maerad nodded after him, and then looked to Camphis, studying him in the low light. In the past few hours, he had changed. Once being the care-free friend she knew, to this strange, frightened warrior before her, who was yet strangely determined. He seemed smaller in the light, though, and Maerad wondered again at what terror could do to a person. She tried to smile encouragingly, but it ended up as more of a grimace.
"Camphis, you can go to the gates, as well. Stay on the upper wall, to the right by the watchtower. There is where we are hard pressed."
He nodded, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Maerad, rest a moment. You're awfully pale. We can handle it for a while."
"No," she said, more sharply than intended, and tried to soften her demeanor. "No, I must stay and defend. All around Innail this is happening, and no one else acquires a break, even after some have laid down their lives," she said, choking up. A tiny bright tear slipped down her cheek.
He looked immeasurably sad. "None of us want to die, Maerad. But all of us would for Innail."
She nodded, taking a deep breath. How shameful, to start crying in the face of battle! "I know. As would I. And I don't want anyone to die, so I will come as well."
A hint of his old mischievousness crossed his façade. "Fighting together like old times, eh, Maerad?"
"Not fighting in the same sense," she said, thinking of their many arguments as a couple. She smiled. "But close enough."
If I do get out of this alive, I promise never to kill anyone again, Maerad thought, revolted by the blood spattered across her face, running into her eyes and blinding her, sticky as it attached her hands to her sword, which was black with it.
A soldier who might've been insane if not for the coolly conscious look in his eyes was battling her at the moment. His strokes were wild, but never seemed to miss their mark. He was wounded, and yet still kept fighting, even as blood poured from his side. But Maerad could sense him weakening. Repulsed, Maerad closed her eyes and dealt the fatal stroke as he sank to his knees before her. Such poor men…fighting, dying…
But these thoughts passed in a moment, as she was swept around to face a brutishly large wer, who beat its awful wings against her as it started to transform. Before it could fully become man, though, she blasted it with the White Flame and it screamed, writhing in agony, as it turned slowly to ashes.
Nice shot, she heard Camphis say into her mind. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw him as he fiercely battled a Hull sorcerer. She bit her lip, fearing for him.
Do you need any help? She asked, right before she was assaulted by three wers at once. Not that I can give it at the moment.
Maerad heard his laughter echoing inside her head, but it was forced, and strained. No, you stay where you…
Silence covered her mind. There was nothing, and the connection between them shivered and collapsed into dust, as if it never was.
Camphis? She asked, frightened, her panicky strokes giving her the edge on the battle. She was now down to just one wer, and its head she easily hacked off after a momentary struggle. Blood spurted at her feet, and she thought she might be sick, but her overpowering desperation to find Camphis forced all thoughts of that from her mind.
"Camphis!" she screamed aloud.
Ugh…I…I'm he..re…
Where? She practically shouted, stepping over corpses and attacking other members of Enkir's army as she went along.
Wat…ch…tower…
"By the Light," she rasped, coughing as smoke assailed her lungs. Burning. And it was coming form the watch tower.
"No!" she shouted, but it was not heard above the cacophony of battle. Her steps became increasingly urgent, and she glimmered faintly with magery in her distress. Finally, she approached the tower, heart pounding in her throat, and gasped. The entire building was on fire, and Camphis was fiercely battling a hull below the burning mass, no matter that one of his hands had been hacked off, and he was being beaten by the hull's cruel mace. She arrived in time to see his sword knocked from his hand, and the hull stood above him, cackling as it raised the deadly weapon, the sharp points glinting in the light of the fire. She screamed and raised her hands, shooting points of White Fire at the dark creature before her. But it was too late, and his hand struck the blow as he toppled, and Camphis cried out in pain.
"No…" she whispered, and ran to him, sweat from the heat of the flames dripping down her face. She dropped by his side, and tried to heal him, but the injuries were extensive, and blood was everywhere. Everywhere, soaking into her clothes, her skin, her own blood. It mingled everywhere; there was nothing but blood. It was black, it was red, it ran cold, it ran hot…but it was just blood, blood, everywhere.
"Camphis, Camphis, can you hear me?" she asked, again and again. How she wished she knew his truename, so she could call him back, just as Cadvan had used to…
She shook those thoughts away; she had enough reason for tears already, some of which were rolling down her nose and cheeks and falling onto his face. His eyes cracked open slightly. "Maer…" he didn't have enough strength to finish her name. She bit her lip. She knew he was going to die, but she couldn't do a thing except ease his suffering. So she began to sing; soft, senseless melodies that she hoped were soothing to the ears. She sang little rhymes that were ridden with her sobs, sang stories and nursery rhymes she remembered hearing children sing in Innail. Would there ever be peace like that again? Perhaps this, his death, her singing, were the last things either of them would know. But maybe, it was just the fuel they needed, the fuel that would start the fire of passion; a passion of their love for Innail, and all that was worthy of beauty and love and goodness. And there would be peace.
So as Camphis of Innail died in her arms, she looked up with hatred. Because these people had ruined her peace. With Cadvan, with Camphis, with Innail, with the whole of Edil-Amarandh. And it wasn't fair. So she would win her peace back.
She stepped away from him with the final breath of her melody, unwilling to leave, but knowing she had to go and defend the peace that was hers.
And everyone else's by right. And the tower collapsed upon the place where she had just been, engulfing his body and the other corpses in flames, before it guttered out under the storming of the dark skies above, which washed the blood away.
And there would be more blood. But it was not shed needlessly. So as Maerad saluted the remains of her friend, she knew that he had died for a reason.
And so would she.
Maerad sighed as she came into the tower again. Enkir had given them brief respite – for the moment at least. She stormed into the tower and plopped herself down in a chair, covering her face with her hands in exhaustion and sadness. No one said anything, and finally, she looked up, dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks red and splotchy from crying.
"Camphis is dead," she said flatly. Kelia looked up, dark eyes wide, and her face went whiter than the leaf of paper she had been showing to Indik.
"What did you say?" she whispered. The bard's hands trembled. Maerad cursed inwardly; she had forgotten that Kelia had feelings for the man.
She stood up and unashamedly put her arms around her. "I'm so sorry, Kelia," she said, more tears streaming from her eyes and stinging her cheeks.
Kelia started silently sobbing, her shoulders shaking as she clutched Maerad to her, seeking comfort none could give. No one could fix a broken heart, she thought painfully.
"Why?" Kelia wailed when her breath rushed back into her lungs. Violent sobs poured from her lips, and her tears were as many as the raindrops. "Why him? He was such a good man…he died for Innail…why? Why?"
"I know, I know," she murmured, trying to be soothing. The other bards were silent, and the grief in the room rose like a flood as they suffered along with the others, themselves knowing how horrible the agony of loss could be.
Kelia quieted for a time, and then stood up straight, running her hands through her dark hair. "If I do anything more," she said, her voice slightly shaky, "I will avenge his death."
"We all will. We all will." It was the first time Maerad smiled such a smile that day. A horrible, savage smile. Maerad would. She would avenge everything she wanted and all that she couldn't have.
"I will avenge my love," she and Kelia whispered as one, and their smiles, for one moment, were bright, and there was in that dark room, a fleeting glimpse of hope.
new chapter up whenever we can get it up. remember, we like reviews! -wink-
