Chapter 20
Angels and Mortals
"Sir, there is someone at the gates asking for you," the soldier said.
Jarlaxle looked up from where he had been discussing possible outcomes with his captains, Rai'gy, Kimmuriel and the twins, and frowned. "Who?"
You were in Jarlaxle's office – the one with the carpet where Winter, the twins and yourself had reappeared in after Calimport. Jarlaxle had called a meeting, knowing that Reima would most probably try to strike while Winter was still out of commission.
Crenshinibon, in Jarlaxle's casual reach, was 'alive' again, pulsing with odd shades of light. It flared brighter now, at the same time the twins stiffened.
"'Tis..." Veldrin began.
"I see," Jarlaxle said tightly. "Well." He began to stand up.
"No need for ceremony," a voice came from behind the soldier, a beautiful, musical voice, the voice of a talented singer – or an angel, in perfect drow. It soothed and calmed, even as you tensed and bared your teeth, you felt like drowsing, lulled by the beauty and cadence of the sound.
The soldier whirled, drawing his sword. A bad mistake – he suddenly caught fire, fire which flared white-hot, so painfully bright that you averted your eyes, spots dancing across your vision. When you looked back, the soldier was a pile of ash and melted metal on the ground.
Delicately, the stranger floated - floated over the sad remains and into the room. A soft aura of white light radiated from him, or it, and it wore simply cut white tunic and what you could crudely call a long skirt, not knowing the exact term for it. It vaguely resembled a human, with rounded ears, though with an unearthly air around it. Gold hair fell around its shoulders – and it seemed neither female nor male. Hermaphrodite?
No large ungainly white wings sprouted from its shoulders. Eyes with gold pupils were wise and thoughtful, face serene, nearly frighteningly so.
The twins hastily got between the stranger and the others. "Uncle Reima," Ssussun smiled disarmingly. "How nice."
Reima turned its perfect face to regard them. "You have a last chance to return to your...balor parent," it pronounced the last word with profound distaste. "I am not here for you yet."
"'Tis the 'yet' that gets me," Veldrin said impishly. "If you'd 'come for' us sooner or later, why not face us now?"
The white aura around it flared brighter.
"Very brave of you anyway, Uncle..." Ssussun began.
"Do not call me that." The serene visage cracked a little.
"Uncle," Veldrin emphasized. "You come here when Irr'liancrea won't be able to help."
"I am not here for good-aligned shards." Reima said coldly.
"I would agree with Veldrin," Jarlaxle said quietly. "Rai'gy, Kimmuriel...all of you get out of here."
Tilarjen blinked. "Sir..."
"Now."
Unwillingly, they left, with a few backward glances. Jarlaxle waited, then closed his hand on Crenshinibon and walked slowly around the table to stand with the twins. Knowing that this was probably suicidal, you did, too.
"Go away, Reima," Jarlaxle said, with a measured tone. "Can you beat all of us?"
Reima looked all of you up and down. "Yes." It said, simply, and you knew that it spoke the truth.
"I'm insulted," Veldrin put her hands on her hips.
"You have lost your queen, Veldrin – you cannot hope to take the game," Reima pointed out gently.
"We can see about that," Ssussun said, and narrowed her eyes. A ring of gold-tinted fire formed around the angel, a cold flame – then Veldrin too clenched her fist, and hot, black fire merged with the ring.
Reima watched calmly, apparently not discomfited at all even as the ring constricted quickly and appeared to consume it.
Then the fire dissipated, to show the angel – unharmed and mildly curious. "Where did you learn that from?"
"Ain't telling you," Veldrin stuck her tongue out at Reima. Jarlaxle looked slightly astonished at the twin's lack of seriousness even in the face of danger.
"This is how you do it." Reima continued. It made no move, but a ring of fire sprang up around all four of you, hotter than the twin's flame, and slowly began to constrict. Jarlaxle's hand tightened on Crenshinibon, and the shard flared, but to no apparent effect until the twins too, put their hands on the shard.
The fire, slowly and grudgingly, died down into nothing.
Reima looked unconcerned.
"Are all angels this violent?" Jarlaxle grinned. "I thought your kin was supposed to be kind and gentle."
"Wrong sort of angel," Ssussun smirked. "Mother'd make better angels than most of 'em."
Reima's face darkened.
"Truly? Then they must be a depraved lot." Jarlaxle said casually, not knowing whether the twins wanted to anger Reima for the sake or it or if they had some sort of plan in mind, but deciding to follow their cue.
"As bad as balors." Veldrin agreed.
"Do not slander Order," Reima said coldly, and you suddenly felt a crushing weight, on your heart, as if forcing it to stop...your vision began to black out, and your breathing began to stop...
Then the weight was taken off, and you gasped for breath, coughing and hacking, relieved and feeling way out of your league.
"Mortal," Reima said to Jarlaxle. "Why do you persist in keeping this artifact? Give it to me, and I shall leave."
"Go to hell," Jarlaxle pointed the shard at Reima. A bright bolt of varying colors shot out, and struck the angel in the chest, causing it to stagger back a little. More bolts followed, at a greater and greater rate, then the angel straightened, and the bolts began to be absorbed by some sort of barrier.
Jarlaxle stopped, and the barrier took the colors of the bolts. Then an immense bolt fuelled by the absorbed energy hissed through the air towards the four of you.
The twins hastily held out their hands, creating a barrier nearly exactly like that protecting Reima. The large bolt was stopped by it...then broke through. The twins quickly brought up another barrier, then another, then another...until the bolt lost enough energy to be absorbed safely.
"Clever," Reima commented, then turned back to Jarlaxle. "Mortal," it said, "Give me the shard."
Jarlaxle's answer was a bolt of a larger size than the one the angel had hurled at the four of you, fueled by the absorbed energy and amplified.
The angel disappeared under the blast, but then the energy changed to a yellow hue and earthed itself, making the ground ripple slightly, and then return to normal. Reima, however, now held a lance with a large, wickedly barbed point. The lance was forged of some shiny, silvery metal, and was neither carved nor studded with jewels.
"'e grounded it to 'nother dimension," Veldrin grumbled.
"What is that lance?" Jarlaxle frowned. "Or more accurately, what does it do?"
"Kill people," Ssussun suggested. "It's known as Taijsien...supposedly absorbs energy. Or something. Or it enhances. I can't remember."
"Don't let it touch you," Veldrin agreed. "I remember. It takes you and dumps you in the Grey Dimension. Limbo."
"Right," Jarlaxle murmured.
Reima attacked, swooping down at Jarlaxle, lance swinging. With surprising agility Jarlaxle dodged out of the way, as did you. The angel would have looked funny if you had been a spectator, but you were not, and you hastily leaped over another swipe. However, Reima was clearly unconcerned about you, and he continued to go after Jarlaxle.
"Reima," Ssussun cooed. The angel paused and turned its head.
"Catch." Veldrin said. Arrows formed in front of them, some black, some silver, and shot forward as if by some unseen bow. You guessed this was another merging balor-angel magic trick.
Reima created an umbrella that looked as if it were made of paper, put the domed top facing the twins, then spun it quickly. Arrows glanced off the spinning surface to clatter and dissolve on the ground. The twins kept up the apparently futile assault, and you wondered idly why...
Then the angel was hit by another burst of energy that threw it heavily into the wall. Jarlaxle lowered Crenshinibon and looked slightly satisfied, then annoyed as Reima floated back into the air, apparently unhurt, only slightly out of breath.
"Mortal, if you wish power I can give you some," Reima told Jarlaxle. "You do not need to fight me."
"You know my answer," Jarlaxle said mildly.
"Why do you refuse? Crenshinibon is a manipulative shard, and it will seek to control you."
"Unless I earn its respect enough for it to work with me," Jarlaxle retorted, firing another bolt which Reima deflected easily.
"That may never happen." Reima said coolly. "Crenshinibon is unlike Irr'liancrea."
"All things may change," Jarlaxle replied.
"Then you are a fool."
"Whether you think I am or not does not truly bother me," Jarlaxle shrugged. "Very few opinions matter to me."
Reima's reply was cut off as the twins charged it, holding similar lances now, having taken the interlude to 'copy' the one in Reima's hands. It blocked Ssussun's slash, and dodged Veldrin's. However, Jarlaxle chose that moment to fire another bolt, which clipped it on the shoulder.
Its eyes blazed, but it had to twirl away from both the twins as they pressed in.
Right in front of you. You leaped and bit it hard in the ankle, twisting to break bone, then quickly lunged away, a wolf's hit-and-run tactics.
Reima had no blood. You blinked, and turned back to regard the creature. At least it felt pain...fury now replaced the serenity on its face, but the teeth-marks healed.
It pointed at you, and then you had to dodge tiny lightning-bolts that sizzled past your tail and occasionally rebounded from walls. At least you were diverting attention...
A hurried glance in Reima's direction – the twins materialized on either side of the creature, and thrust their lances in...but Reima had disappeared, and the lances clashed in mid air.
It reappeared behind Jarlaxle, who appeared to have been suspecting this, because he leaped to the side, avoiding the nasty stab by the lance. Jarlaxle drew his slender sword in his free hand and parried the next blow, firing more bolts at Reima, which were deflected by a barrier.
Remarkably, Jarlaxle was a good fighter – that fact seemed to be overlooked usually due to him flaunting his other...talents, and was holding out. The twins dashed over and joined in, and somehow Reima managed to take on all three of them without either of their weapons getting a hit.
Time for you to try again. Unnoticed, you sneaked behind Reima, then gathered your strength and weight into your hindquarters and leaped high into the air, crashing into the angel's back and fastening your teeth into its shoulder. Your jump had not been timed well enough to get a grip on its neck, which would have been preferable...
Reima let out a harsh cry of pain, and a great force tore you off him and slammed you into the wall with enough force to darken your vision. You shook your head and winced at the pain – probably broke a few ribs.
After a few false starts you managed to look up.
Your distraction had allowed Jarlaxle to stick his sword in Reima's leg, and it stuck out at a strange angle. Unconcerned, the angel grasped the hilt and pulled it out...and the twins took that moment to attack again with their lances, now wreathed in flames, and Jarlaxle tried another high-energy bolt.
You realized wryly that the impact of yourself on the wall had cracked it, and you attempted to crawl to your feet and back into the fight, but a sharp pain shot down your front paw and hind leg. You'd broken something worse than ribs. Helplessly, you sank down, out of the fight.
Reima parried with his lance and Jarlaxle's sword even as the wound closed up, and though the bolt appeared to penetrate a few layers, it was finally stopped and absorbed. It waved a hand, and you felt the edges of a shockwave that flung the three away from it – and more importantly, a certain distance away from each other. Jarlaxle crashed noisily into the wall close to you, harder than you had, and snarled. His hand was clenched so tightly on the shard, the knuckles were white.
The twins were slowly picking themselves up, but Reima waved a hand dismissively at them...and dimension doors appeared over them, which abruptly fell down, engulfing them and finally disappearing when they touched the ground.
"I hope Raelmaztigar has the sense to keep them out of the Prime Material Plane," Reima was saying, and you knew what it had done – it had sent the twins back to the Abyss, where their mother would most probably not let them back here.
Two allies lost.
Jarlaxle was breathing heavily, still seated on the ground. He did not try to get up even as Reima approached slowly. You could see sweat on his bald head, and his expression was desperate...and determined.
The twins did not reappear...and Reima was a few feet away.
Then it suddenly stopped, against a barrier. It frowned, though it did not seem too bothered. "Mortal," it said, "One last chance."
"Vith'os." Jarlaxle said coldly.
Reima held up its hand, slowly, then clenched its fist. Jarlaxle flinched violently – and there was a small white flash as the magical barrier broke. Reima continued to approach – then its lance pointed an inch before Jarlaxle's forehead.
"Mortal," it said, gentle yet firm, "You give me no choice."
Jarlaxle closed his eyes.
The blow never came. Abruptly the creature was knocked a fair distance away, where it hit Jarlaxle's desk. Jarlaxle's eyes flew open, and he turned to the doorway – and blinked.
Winter stood there, holding Irr'liancrea with both hands, and she walked in, jerkily. You felt suspicious – Winter normally walked with a quiet grace that would put any Matron to shame.
Her eyes were open – but radiated some sort of blue light, without pupils. Irr'liancrea pulsed in time to her slow breathing, and you watched her warily as she came to a stop before Jarlaxle.
"Irr'liancrea." Reima said with regret, standing back up in thin air.
"Reima." There was Winter's voice – but more obviously, there was Irr'liancrea's voice. Two spoke together, though one was louder – and you understood – she was under her shard's control.
Jarlaxle, with amazing effort, managed to pull himself to his feet, though he leaned heavily on the wall. You heard something like "And a pawn turns into a queen," murmured under his breath, and you thought of coincidences, and wondered how he knew of the popular surface world game.
"Why would you help your brother?" Reima inquired curiously.
"I do not help my/mine brother." Winter-Irr'liancrea said coldly.
"Then why?"
"I will not tell you/thee. But you/thou must return to where/whence you/thou came."
"If you interfere, then you will suffer the consequences," Reima warned, holding up its lance.
"So be it." Winter-Irr'liancrea did not bother to hold a stance, but charged, faster than ever, if rather gracelessly. Reima slashed forward – she parried. The ring of metal sang out in the room.
Winter-Irr'liancrea was speaking precisely in the arcane tongue of Sanctuary, utilizing Loremaster magic. Bursts of blue fire curled around the sword and on the angel, who somehow managed to shield against it. It was faster than a normal elf, but she was no longer 'normal' now, and they seemed perfectly matched.
Finally they broke away, neither breathless as yet.
"Why did you ally with Baenre?" Jarlaxle asked, mildly.
Reima glanced at him, then apparently decided to answer. "She was to force you to give up ownership to herself, then give the shard to me. In return I would aid her and her house as long as she lived."
"She wanted the power for herself." Jarlaxle said with certainty.
"I considered that possibility," Reima nodded. "If she did not keep her promise, then I would have killed her."
"Why did you not shield the house from cold?" Jarlaxle continued impersonally. "Or try to counter the snow?"
"A waste of effort," Reima said coldly. "And I could wrest the shard away from you if I wished. Dark elves are evil – I would not save your kin. The more of you who meet your Goddess, the better."
"I would only use the shard here against my kin," Jarlaxle said, trying again.
"You, perhaps, but if you were to lose it to another? Like he who called himself Akar Kessel? Better that Crenshinibon find another planet."
"You/Thou cannot destroy it, or will not?" Winter-Irr'liancrea spoke up. "You/Thou seeks power too. You/Thou would absorb it into yourself/thyself?"
"What I do will be." Reima said coldly, but Winter-Irr'liancrea had hit a nerve. "I tarry. For your interference, Irr'liancrea, your wielder will die, and you will share the fate of your brother."
The angel attacked, lance spiraling tightly in some complex sort of move. Winter-Irr'liancrea barely managed to parry, even with her new speed, and let Reima drive her in a circle.
You noticed belatedly that they were nearing yourself and Jarlaxle.
A few feet away, Winter-Irr'liancrea appeared to make a stand, sword flaring more brightly. She flinched to the side, parrying the stab by smashing the lance wide, then began to utter a long string of syllables that seemed to mostly lack vowels.
Jarlaxle somehow managed to slip behind Reima, even with his injuries. Wincing, he drew back his hand...
...as Winter-Irr'liancrea leaped high into the air...
Crenshinibon, tip suddenly dagger-sharp, stabbed into the angel's back, as the blue sword made contact with the angel's head. You expected the creature's head to be cleaved crudely into two by the apparent force of the blow, but instead the angel dissolved into silver light which was sucked into the lance.
Winter-Irr'liancrea landed softly, and said something that sounded like a tying-off word. The lance flared, silver-gold light, then stilled again. "Did not think he would fall for it...but he did. And that...was that." She mused, looking at the lance.
Nothing else seemed to have happened to it – the silver thing sat on the ground harmlessly. But Winter-Irr'liancrea picked it up – no fireworks – and broke it with some effort over her knee. The broken pieces fell to the ground with a muffled thud.
"It's over?" Jarlaxle was swaying slightly, and looking as though he did not believe it was this easy. "That's it?"
"Xas." Winter spoke in her normal voice, then grimaced. "I really shouldn't be out of bed..."
Jarlaxle interrupted her a little rudely by grasping her shoulders and pulling her into a rough, hungry kiss. Winter's eyes widened in surprise, then as you suspected, instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and then kissed him back just as fiercely.
Both Crenshinibon and Irr'liancrea fell to the ground, forgotten like the remains of the lance, and you thought about irony, shards, and what the future might bring.