Hark: I'm back! *tries to ignore the screams of horror* I'll try to finish some storylines during Christmas, although I doubt that I'll be able to finish the whole story. But I can try to get rid of some characters and sort out some strange things that seem to be happening in the story... This chapter was written in two parts, first part in early December, the rest is fresh from my mind.

Note for the first part: This hasn't been one of those happy-happy joy-joy days...



Chapter 31: Losing faith



I am reaching but I fall/ and the stars are black and cold... Les Misérables (Musical)



Faershan leaned on the wall of the Temple of Helm, trying to keep out of the rain. She watched the people running past and going into te temples for cover, and she couldn't help but sigh. She hadn't found any shelter in the temples of Athkatla for a long time, and now she felt like she couldn't find shelter anywhere else either. All the things that had happened and all the things that might happen had filled her heart with fear that she couldn't really explain.



And there hadn't been any answers to her prayers or questions. Her god hadn't talked to her for a week and she was lost. The despair, the pain, every negative emotion was eating her soul and she felt like she couldn't bear it much longer. She stepped into the rain and started to walk back to the guild house, although she had no idea what she could do there. She couldn't heal the sick, couldn't offer any help for those in need of it. In fact, she was one of those in need of help, but she knew that nobody could help her. She walked deep in thought, deep in her own misery, and didn't notice the man with the crossbow.



The bolt hit her stomach and she fell on her knees while the terrible pain exploded through her body. She could see the horrified expressions on the faces of the people in the street, and then everything went black.



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Shandara ran through the guild house after Mitsu. The halfling was pale as a ghost and although Shandara couldn't see her own face, she was certain that she was too. She wasn't sure how she managed to run; her legs felt like they would give in soon.



"No need to run like that," Aran Linvail said when they reached the hospital that had Aran had started after the first attack. He was crying openly, tears flowing down his cheeks. "She's dead."



Shandara heard herself crying out loud and then she fell to her knees. Mitsu turned to hug her, her small face also smeared with tears. Aran leaned on the wall, closing his eyes and trying to make sense of the world he couldn't recognize anymore. He had lost many comrades and friends during the last month, many more than ever before. And all because someone was too much of a coward to face him openly. Aran was beginning to wish for an open confrontation, anything but these attacks that weren't just targeted on important members of the guild. Just a couple of days ago someone had shot two servant girls who had been buying vegetables. Younger of them had been only thirteen.



Aran didn't try to trick himself by thinking that he was the good guy. He had murdered, robbed and deceived. He controlled organized crime in the city, in fact he had organized it. There were pickpockets, whores and assassins. He tried to be kind to his employees, but his victims, the guild's victims, were selected on the basis of gaining profit. They had killed people who hadn't deserved that kind of fate, they had robbed from people who were too poor anyway.



Still Aran thought that although they weren't the good guys, they were better than the other guild. And did it really matter who was good and who was bad. Life was a struggle and people like them couldn't start to count where their living came from.



Still, he would have given everything to save all the people that had died. He looked at Shandara and Mitsu, who were crying on the floor and then he looked at the body that had been lifted on the nearest bed. This was it. He had already doubled his spies around the city, but now was the time to triple them. He was going to find out who were behind this, and then he would kill them. Very slowly. A memory of Tessa came into his mind, but he banished it quickly. The woman had chosen her side and she was no more than a traitor and murderer. Sure to be killed if Aran ever got her in his sight.



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Chalmira was sitting in the dining hall, trying to disappear to the background. She wasn't sure what had happened, only that some healer had been killed. Quite important healer, she thought, looking at the looks on the faces of the thieves. And she wasn't very happy with the looks they were giving her. She and Elenwyd were among the newest members and that seemed to mean that they were possible spies. Chalmira tried to ignore the looks, but there had been quite many although the news of the death had spread only a while ago.



"They can be like that," Jarlaxle said, sitting down opposite to her. "But never mind about them."



"Are you offering to beat them up if they tease me?" Chalmira asked, not smiling. She still felt the angry eyes on her and decided that smiling wasn't the wisest thing to do at a time like this.



"Wouldn't that be your brother's job?" Jarlaxle replied. "But I can protect you for the time being. They are like a family," he continued. "They may be murderers and thieves, but if one of their own is hurt or killed, they hunt down the person responsible and kill him. Or her," he added. "Who knows, maybe it was you."



"Funny," Chalmira said dryly. "Tell me, did you know the healer who was killed."



"Faershan? Not well. I had talked to her a couple of times, but that was about it. But she was a good person, or at least so I have been told. A half-elf, not so full of prejudice as elves."



"That is our best trait," Chalmira said dryly. "But this is an interesting place. Elenwyd has told me so many times, and it seems I should have listened to him better. Now he just sits in his room, composing a saga or some such. Aran hasn't given us many opportunities to work."



"I believe that he will after this," Jarlaxle said. "Faershan was his friend."



"Protecting the family..." Chalmira muttered. "Do you think you could tell me more about this guild and its people?" she asked and Jarlaxle was sure that he recognized the tone in her voice. Isaldora was in the past and he had to admit that Chalmira was an interesting woman.



"Any time," Jarlaxle replied. "But not today. And I think that the funeral will be tomorrow. But after that, I'm all yours." He got up and bowed his head before heading out. Chalmira hid a little smile and continued to eat, wondering how worried Elenwyd would be if he knew what his sister was planning to do with a drow. But she had learned that the best way to spare Elenwyd's nerves and feelings was either not to tell him or then to lie. Both might be necessary soon, but Chalmira had mastered them and was confident that everything would turn out fine.



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"It's hard to believe that she's dead," Isaldora said. "Just like that. And I hadn't talked to her for a long time, I was always too busy and..."



"Don't start blaming yourself for anything," Shandara said. She, Mitsu, Mirjami and Isaldora were sitting in Isaldora's room, remembering Faershan and eating, since Mirjami claimed that nothing helped like food when things weren't looking good.



"She's right," Mitsu said. "She's gone and we're here, so the best thing we can do is to remember her and make sure that nobody forgets her. What?" she asked when all others looked at her curiously. "Can't a halfling be deep sometimes?"



"She loved Aran," Shandara said quietly. "I saw it. But she didn't do anything. I wish she had."



"Don't tell him," Mirjami said and Shandara gave him a long look. "I'm not stupid, you know. I'm not going to march to Aran and say 'Too bad that Faershan died, by the way, she was in love with you'. It would cause him more pain, and he has enough troubles already."



"Speaking of troubles," Mitsu added in an evil voice, trying to turn the discussion away from loss and death, "How are things with you and Entreri?"



"To be honest, I have no idea," Shandara sighed. "He's jealous of me. It's nice, but also a bit scary. I don't want him to get any ideas about us. You should have seen his face when Aran told me I have to sleep with Kheran again... But no more about that," she said in a firm voice. "Why is it that whenever you want to lighten up a conversation, you start to talk about my life?"



"Take it as a compliment," Isaldora grinned. "You are the only one of us with an interesting life."



"Liar," Shandara muttered and threw Isaldora with a biscuit. She caught it threw it back.



"Food war?" Mitsu asked and Mirjami sighed. Sometimes she felt like she was among five-year-old children and wanted to order them to stop. But when a grape hit her on the head, she forgot all her dignity and threw it back, although she hit Shandara instead of Mitsu who had thrown it.



It was childish and completely improper, but it made all of them feel better. Sometimes happiness is the best weapon in the fight against sorrow.