Chapter Nineteen
Disclaimer: Nire is mine, as is everything to do with Azazel of Belasarius. Jander, Khelben, Laeral, Danilo, and Arilyn belong to WotC.
It was a contest of wills, as all things were. Before the first word could be spoken, the first argument begun, one had to break. Acted out on hillsides for centuries upon centuries, millennia upon millennia, it was the story of history. It was the age-old tale of the world. One of them had to lose control of their steely nerves, thus failing the test. Each being measured, being tested. One would be shoved off the cliff, one would be thrown into the dirt, cast out of the ring, fall from grace. And the other would emerge victorious, the strongest, the winner. The will of one would win, would be carried out. The only question to be answered was, who would look away first?
For her part, Nire was determined not to lose. She could not remember when she had cared this deeply about something, this deeply about *someone*. Somewhere, in the course of planning this trip, it had become an all-consuming quest. If anything, she felt like Galahad must have, when trying to gain the Holy Grail. Except, unlike sir Galahad, she would gain nothing from this. Nothing, except a blissful release from the shackles of the mortal world. This was not a fight she was going to lose.
Azazel was no less determined. While Nire concentrated on not looking away and keeping the bored, dull expression chalked onto the blank slate of her eyes and face, Azazel used his other senses to stuff the girl. For the first couple minutes, he tried to see inside her eyes, lift the shades of the windows to the soul. But he couldn't, almost as though there was nothing behind them, nothing but what she was showing now. Dimly, he could hear the conversation in the kitchen. Elbereth was telling the two denizens of the tower news from the outside world. Satisfied that all that was going on was talking, he focused all of his attention on determining the child's intentions.
It did not seem strange to the ancient mage that she was but a child, yet she reeked of power. All he was concerned about was why she wanted his most powerful secret. Just what did she *really* plan to do with it? Or, was she telling the truth, and did she only want to help a friend? The trusting nature of his wife was rubbing off on him, and he did not like it.
Azazel spoke first, never breaking his gaze from the child's. "Do you realize what the cost of what you're asking is?" he questioned her harshly.
Nire nodded, her eyes moving up and down in her head so they never left Azazel's. "Aye, I know. A life. A life to return the life to a dead body. *My* life, because I'll be the one making the whatever. I did my homework."
Azazel fell silent again, contemplating her. There was no lie in her speech, nor in her body. She was truly prepared to give her life.
"And you would let the secret die with you?"
A slow nod was her answer. "Call me stupid, call me a fool. But I wanna do *something* good before I die. And he's the only one worth anything. I've got no interest in leaking your secret to people."
There was another long silence, filled with staring, before Azazel spoke. "Would you swear never to reveal this secret to anyone? That it will die with you?"
"Yes and yes," she said calmly. "I swear that this secret will go to the grave with me, never once be uttered from my lips." Vaguely, she knew she should feel slightly disturbed about speaking of her death so casually. But, inside, there was nothing. She felt cold and empty, but committed to her purpose.
Once more, Azazel knew that she spoke only the truth. One benefit of being a vampire, one that he greatly appreciated, was that he *knew* when someone was lying. In an abrupt decision, more influence by Adelaide's wishes than he cared to admit, Azazel decided to give this child what she wanted. Trusting Adelaide and Etienne to be able to take care of themselves, fortified by his wife's slight caress on his mind, he stood.
"Come with me," he said shortly. "I will teach you."
He was the first to look away.
* * * * *
As Nire followed Azazel up to his shielded study, Jander was just awakening from an uneasy sleep. He had dreamed - a rare occurrence in itself - of Nire. In the dream, they were standing underground, in a cave of sparkling light. And ice cave, it seemed. She held out her arms to him, blood bubbling from her upturned wrists like a perverse fountain and splashing to the cold ground below, and ordered him to drink. And he did, compelled by an unseen force. Every time he attempted to pull back, she ordered him to drink deeper. Her heartbeat slowed, and still he could not pull away; he was not released until she fell to her knees. Then he sprang away, blood dripping from his mouth, staring in horror at what he had done. A peaceful smile spread across the child's face as she collapsed forward in slow motion, her beautiful heart stilling forever. As a wail of anguish came from Jander, the painful realization struck him. He was mortal.
She had given her life to make him mortal.
He hadn't fed enough lately to be covered in bloodsweat, but there was the potential there. He could still taste the sweet nectar of her blood. French vanilla and almonds. Oh, gods, Lathander help him. He could feel a heat stirring in his loins. She was a *child* for crying out loud! *A child*!
But, oh gods, the *taste*. Mouth watering, delectable ambrosia.
No. No no nononono. A beast. He was a monster, a beast. Not fit to live.
French vanilla and almonds.
Evil, wrong, sick, disgusting.
Jander moaned, cradling his head in his shaking hands. It had just been a dream. Right? A dream, nothing more. Just because it felt real didn't mean anything. He would never really do that to his little one. Never.
Would he?
He had to talk to her, had to make sure she was okay.
As he thought that, the comforting warmth that was Nire, that warm feeling he didn't notice anymore but stayed in the back of his mind always, was gone. Abruptly not there.
Little one? he called nervously. He couldn't feel her, couldn't even sense where she was. There was no answer. Nire? NIRE?
He knew he hadn't done anything t her. The sun just set, he had been sleeping. But why was she gone? Why didn't she answer? His mind swirled with the many colors of panic.
Raistlin? Raistlin! Tell me Nire's with you!
The mage sounded confused and irritable. No, she isn't. Why?
Jander didn't answer. He was too busy trying to think of other places she would be in danger. Any other place that she could hear something, learn something that would put her in danger. If she thought something sounded fun, or 'cool', then she would try it out. She would go there, or do it, but with no regard for the consequences.
Then, it hit him.
Blackstaff. No, no, no, no no nonono. She had even *told* him that the mage had been telling her some interesting legends. Of course she would want to go see how true they were.
Even as he thought, he formed a gate to the Blackstaff Tower. The very instant he stepped foot on the ground outside the tower, Khelben stepped outside. It was as though he knew the vampire would be arriving.
"What did you tell her?" Jander asked in a dangerously quiet voice, his eyes flashing angrily.
"Who?" Confronted with the enraged vampire, Khelben's eyes flicked back and forth, looking for a possible escape route, in case it came to that.
"*Nire*! Who the *fuck* do you think?" He liked that little four-letter word he had picked up from his little one. "She's…gone. I can't… feel her anymore…" Confusion, worry, and fear filled the elf's face. "Please…"
Khelben paled visibly. He didn't think she would actually do it. She hadn't seemed that foolish. "She was asking about Azazel of Belasarius. She wouldn't have actually tried to go there, would she have?"
Jander visibly paled, a remarkable feat considering he hadn't fed well in days. "Where?" he rasped. "*Where did you tell her it was? *"
"The middle of the Forest of Tethyr." Khelben peered past the distraught vampire. Laeral, Danilo, and Arilyn had just come in the gate and were standing behind him, ready to act, if need be.
Jander did not know they were there, however. He was still calling for Nire, over and over again. Ignoring everything, he turned to the side and made a gate to the very center of the Tethyrian Forest. Nire would take it literally and go there. As the scenery changed around him, and he stepped away from the gate, he made the decision to leave it open. Just in case Blackstaff was going to help search for her.
He took one more step forward, and stood still. He could feel four people lining up behind him, keeping quiet, afraid to speak. Afraid to say anything to him. And he, he just stood still. Her scent was there, in the clearing. This was the spot where she had stood that very morning. Why couldn't he feel her? She couldn't be dead. No, that was just beyond comprehension.
Oh, gods, what would he do without her? In such a short time, she had come to mean everything to him. *Everything*. She kept him sane; she made him feel like life was worth living. She was his humanity. For the brief time she was near him each night, she made him forget he was one of the damned.
He sank to his knees with a groan, covering his face with his hands. People shuffled their feet behind him but he did not hear them. If she were dead… His head was empty and cold. It felt like there was something (French vanilla and almonds) missing from him, from his head, from his heart.
No. This couldn't (fountain of blood) be happening. She couldn't be (drink of me) dead. There had to be (be whole again) another explanation. Some other reason why (mortal) he couldn't feel her. There *had* (dead) to be a reason. Nire was (at his feet) indestructible, just like she always said. She *had* to be.
Then she was back, a warm spot at the bottom of his brain.
Half a second later, she appeared in front of him.
* * * * *
"Do you understand?" Azazel growled.
Nire nodded once, sharply. Oh, yes, she understood. She understood that this was going to take all of her money to buy supplies. That, after that, it was going to take at least a week to make. That this was going to be the last thing she ever did. And, she understood how to do it.
"Yes, I understand."
Azazel stood. "Then come. This will pout you back where you started in the forest."
With a nod of gratitude, Nire stepped through the area he was indicating. Almost immediately, the Tethyrian Forest reshaped around her, the spot just outside of where the maze started. The sight that greeted her eyes, and the feelings of grief and loss that washed over her, stopped her short.
* * * * *
Jander stared at Nire, focused in on her strong, steady heartbeat, felt her in the back of his mind (drink of me and be well).
Confusion and anger warred across Nire's face. What did they do to him? "Jander? What's wrong?"
He was in front of her in an instant, hugging her tightly, his head buried in her shoulder. She was (wrists spurting blood) all right. After a moment, Nire's tense body relaxed and her arms hugged him back. He would *not* cry. Not in front of these (fountain of blood) people.
Nire was rubbing his back soothing, trying to calm him down. She could feel him shaking, trembling. "Jander, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Jander shoved her away from him roughly, standing up, his eyes angrily flashing. "Am *I* okay? Gods-be-damned, Nire! What were you thinking? You could have been *killed*, do you understand? *Dead*. I woke up, and I couldn't *feel* you anymore, I thought you had killed yourself."
Nire's eyes glazed over so she looked like she wasn't paying attention. But she was; she heard every word he said.
Her glazed eyes hurt Jander. She didn't even care the torture she had just put him through. "Are you even *listening* to me? What were you thinking? Oh, wait, obviously, you weren't."
At that, Nire flinched away from him, hurt flashing through her dulled eyes. Jander was supposed to be the one who always supported her, never yelled, never scolded. She could feel tears pricking at her eyes. Without thinking, just to get him to shut up so she wouldn't cry, she snapped out the phrase she knew would hurt him most.
"What right do you have to yell at *me*? *You're not even mortal*."
The instant she said it, she wanted to take it back, but she couldn't. It was what she did. She lashed out to keep herself from being hurt, to deflect the attention elsewhere. Most other adults would have understood that she meant nothing by it, that she was just trying to protect herself. But no, not Jander. Her words were a vicious arrow that struck through his heart. His mouth gaped open and closed, nothing coming forth, and he seemed to wilt in front of her. Nire could feel him closing off from her, from everyone, shutting down.
"You're right," he whispered, pain filling his voice. Nire was shocked that she had said that in the first place, ands he opened her mouth to say something, anything to take it back.
But Jander had already disappeared into the forest.
It was Nire's turn to gape. She turned to the four people who seemed to always travel together, her eyes lost and strangely childish. The look was there only for a few brief seconds, then it was hidden behind a mask of slight humor. Inside, she was… afraid. He wasn't answering her telepathic pleas. What would she do if she had driven him away forever?
"Did he seriously just walk away?" Nire asked, a slight note of exasperation in her voice.
Laeral nodded grimly. She knew that Nire had known exactly what her words would do to the vampire. In her opinion, the child needed a good talking to, and a couple well-placed whacks across the seat of her pants.
"Good riddance," Arilyn muttered, not thinking that anyone would hear her. She still held an unreasonable amount of animosity towards Jander. Every single elf that treated her as an equal, not something of a lesser race, turned out to be somehow evil. And he - he was a perversion of life, an evil that Faerûn should be rid of.
Nire went still and quiet, her eyes glinting dangerously. She stalked forward until she was directly in front of Arilyn. "What did you say?" The menace was clear in her voice.
Arilyn refused to back down. This child could not be of a threat to her. It was ridiculous. "I said, good riddance."
The disapproving stares turned her way by everyone distracted her, a wounded look spreading across her face. Thus, the right hook Nire landed on her chin was a total surprise, and sent her flying backwards. She landed on her back in the dirt, looking up at the enraged girl. As she looked up at Nire, she paled. The preteen's fists were relaxed, but one hand caressed her sword hilt as though she wished to use it. Her eyes were filled with a cold fire, rage she did not try to control.
"How *dare* you say that," Nire hissed viciously. "How *dare* you. He came here in complete panic because he thought I had died. He put himself at risk by going to *you* people for help, to find out where I was. You hate others because they judge you unfairly because you're half elf, or half human. How are you *any different from them*?" Nire forced herself to back up, to turn and walk away.
"Nire," Khelben called sternly.
She stopped, not turning around, and snapped, "What?"
"You and I need to have a talk."
She nodded once, sharply, and continued walking.
Arilyn finally gathered her wits about her, got some of her bluster back, and stood, brushing herself off. "Why that little bitch," she bristled, looking to Danilo for support.
"Sorry Arilyn." He spread his hands. "I agree with her."
The half-elf was left, staring, amazed and alone.
* * * * *
Jander walked away. As soon as he was sure, completely and totally sure, that no one could see him, he ran. He ran as hard and as fast as he could, pounding the ground beneath his feet. Emptiness filled his head. There was no room for thoughts amid the utter desolation and grief. Golden hair streamed behind him in the silvery moonlight.
He did not run for long. No, he ran until he was sure no one would be able to feel the magic. Then he gated to the grove that he had shown Nire that day. Water sang in the brook, and it was still as beautiful as always. But tonight, it offered little comfort. The crystalline beauty reminded him of everything he was not, of everything he could never be.
It was a welcome relief to his trembling legs to slump down to the ground, a tree supporting his back. Now, his shoulders, his body, shook with the force of his sobs. Twin rivers of blood flowed down his cheeks. Like a young child, he brought his knees up to his chest and locked his arms around them, his face fitting perfectly between his knees. He did not rock back and forth, no, that seemed too trivial an expression of his grief. But long shudders ran down his lanky frame, breaking up the violent trembling.
Did she understand what her words had done to him? Did she ever *care*? Since the day he had met her, there was never anything in her eyes that even suggested… Never had she looked at him as anything other than another creature of the light. All he had ever seen, ever felt was that he was a treasured friend, one she trusted more than most. It was one of the things he treasured most about her - the fact that she never smelled of fear, never looked at him in disgust. All she saw was *him*, not the vampire. She never looked at him, wondering whom he had killed recently.
Everything she did not do had just been thrown back in his face.
The anger, the hate in her eyes had made him want to stumble back away from her. And her voice… her vicious, cold voice… never had he heard such loathing when she spoke. Did this mean that everything she had said, had done since the day he met her was a lie? Was every look, ever laugh, ever tear just an elaborate façade? Even if it was, could he blame her?
He was a monster, a beast (drink). He fed off the living (dead at his feet) to sustain his unholy existence. How could a child, any child, stand to be around him? He was just a disgusting animal. Why should he think Nire say something in him, something worth saving? A night stalked, drinker of blood (dripping from his fangs). All he would do was kill her. His dream had been trying to tell him that. His little one was in danger from *him*. Lower than the lowest worm, blood-drinker, evil. He was not fit to walk this earth. Nire had finally made him see it.
Jander gave himself over to the sobs that wracked his body.
* * * * *
Nire knew exactly where Jander had gone. A couple deep breaths calmed the rage she felt towards Arilyn. The pretty little bitch had no idea what she was talking about. Right now, she had to go find Jander. When he had walked away, she could feel his disgust and self-loathing. And the utter desolation and betrayal. All caused by her stupid mouth. She *had* to fix it, take what she said back, make Jander forgive her.
She knew exactly where he would be. That glade, or glen, or whatever that he had shown her… That was it. All the times she had felt him there, she tried not to intrude. Now that he could, that was where he went for quiet time, time to feel bad for himself, time to think. This though… no, this she was not going to allow to wait until he came to find her. The risk was too great.
She had a smart remark all prepared, ready and waiting. But the instant she saw Jander, it died in her throat. She had expected him to be… somewhat upset, judging from the way he had disappeared. But nothing so bad as this. He was sobbing, actually *sobbing*, bloodtears pouring from between the fingers that covered his face. His shoulders were shaking, his entire *body* was trembling.
"Jander," she started hesitantly.
The vampire elf forced himself to still. What was she doing here? Hadn't she said enough? But her voice was small and timid; for once she sounded her age. She sounded unsure of her welcome, as well as she should.
"Go away, Nire," he growled angrily, steadfastly refusing to look at her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered unhappily, taking a few steps forward. "I didn't mean it. I was jus-"
"There's a grain of truth in all angry words," he interrupted cruelly.
"Not when they're coming from my mouth!" she burst out. "God damn it, you *know* that."
She tried to touch his mind, to let him feel what she meant. As soon as he felt her light tough, he roughly thrust her out. He did not want to see, to feel what she felt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flinch, hurt flashing across her face.
"Jander…" she pleaded, actually begging him. "Please. I'm sorry. I…"
The scent of her salty tears filled the air, but Jander paid no heed to them. "Leave me, Nire." They were three quiet words, filled with venom.
Nire didn't say anything else, just left, gating back to her room. How *dare* he? *How dare he*? She tried to apologize, and that was what she got. And this was why she never tried to help anyone. Every time - *ever fucking time* - she got yelled at, got in trouble. This was it. She was never helping anyone, ever again. She'd just stay in her room forever, alone. Why should she care about anyone? He didn't matter, none of them mattered.
She shut her door quietly, the whole house already asleep, and collapsed on her bed, beginning to sob.
