Disclaimer: Since its development in 1983, the animated series Dungeons and Dragons has belonged to the following at some point: Marvel Productions, TSR, Inc., Wizards of the Coast, Saban Entertainment, (according to rumor) Disney, and possibly even others. I guess my point is, it does not (nor has it ever) belonged to me. Oh, well! This story, however, does! I hope you enjoy it!
Rating: PG-13 for some language and violent elements
Author's Forward: Dedicated once more to my beautiful beta readers! Especially Heidi – a fine author herself, who offered heaps of encouragement and whose website I will miss! And EQ – who insisted on reading this again and wouldn't let me post until we were all satisfied! Thanks!
Within, find a bit of a reprieve from all the running around. Friends are reunited, feelings are confronted, a "gushy" scene that I know some of you have been waiting for, a healthy dose of angst, and Venger gets some of the spotlight! Also, although I pride myself on attempting to come up with original one-liners in my stories, every so often I can't resist throwing in a clever line that I've picked up somewhere else. Bonus kudos to anyone who can spot my pop-culture references! *VBG*
Spoilers: Since there's a lot of dialogue in this chapter, there are more references made to the actual D&D series than has been done previously. Direct references are made to Michael Reaves' "Requiem" script, the episodes: Valley of the Unicorns, Treasure of Tardos, Day of the Dungeon Master, Garden of Zinn, Beauty and the Bogbeast, Child of the Stargazer, and Dungeon at the Heart of Dawn, as well as a subtle reference to one my own previous stories, "Advent."
Hope you enjoy!
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LEGACYChapter 12 -- Still Waters
"Oh, my . . . goodness!" Sheila breathed as she gazed at Uni. The unicorn was even more beautiful and elegant than she could have imagined; even more breathtaking than the ones they had seen in the hidden Valley all those years ago. The memory of the awkward filly and the sight of this exquisite and graceful replacement brought tears to the Thief's eyes. She smiled brightly in spite of their grim surroundings.
Eric, likewise, had difficulty believing what he saw. He let out his incredulity in a forced puff of air as he stared at the unicorn.
"Not so 'runty' anymore, is she, Cavalier?" Diana whispered from her seated position beside Presto. Eric dumbly shook his head, his mouth agape. He glanced toward his son and tried to erase some of the shock from his face.
"S-she, uh, used to be a little . . . smaller," he stated casually as he regained his composure. He then turned back to the unicorn with a disbelieving grin; a smile that faded a bit as he shifted his gaze to Venger. "Would it be wishful thinking to ask if we could go home now?" he asked the former Dark Lord.
Venger didn't answer that, leaving the Young Ones wondering if that were a good omen or a bad one. "You have bought us some time, my friends," he simply said. Sensing their apprehension, he added, "The knowledge you desire is best attainted through patience."
Eric groaned. "Well, if that wasn't the same stupid thing the old DM would've said . . . !"
Venger turned a patient eye toward the Cavalier. "Rest, my friends," was all he said in reply.
Eric grumbled some sarcastic rebuttal under his breath, prompting an irritated look from Diana. "Patience, Cavalier," she intoned in a whisper. "How about setting a good example!" Eric followed her line of vision to the nearby group of children, then back to the Acrobat with a conceding roll of his eyes.
As the Young Ones continued to take in their surroundings, the new Dungeon Master turned abruptly from the group as though he had heard something. His eyes focused on nothing in particular, but his head cocked to the side as though listening intently. After a few brief moments, he straightened and gave Uni a nod, his expression dark and strange. She whinnied a soft response. None of the Young Ones seemed to notice this exchange.
Presto started to raise himself up from the column where he was sitting. "Whoa! Where do you think you're going?" Diana demanded as she tried to keep him down.
"To check on Varla," he answered, a slight twinge of pain detectable in his voice. "She kinda had a nasty run-in with some falling marble, but she'll be okay."
"Which is more than I can say for you, judging by the way you look!" the Acrobat countered.
"Diana's right, pal," Hank affirmed. "You need to get yourself fixed up. One of us'll check on Varla."
"I'll do it!" Ayesha interjected, jumping at the opportunity to see the friend who had had her so worried. "Where is she?"
Presto's eyes traveled over his friends above him. It seemed there was no getting out of this one. He finally yielded with a deep sigh. "She's in the next chamber." He pointed to an area behind him. "That way." Ayesha smiled excitedly and dashed into the next room, followed closely by Toby and John. Presto finally turned back to Diana. "Okay, Madame," he sighed again, "Do your thing."
Eric smirked down at the Magician as Diana looked for something to set what she guessed (judging by the way Presto had been carrying himself) were several broken ribs. After a moment, he turned back to face Venger. "By the way, . . . uh, . . . DM, . . . what exactly is it that we're waiting--?" Eric stopped short at the sight of what was behind him: Uni the Unicorn . . . and nothing else. Venger was nowhere in sight.
"Hey!" the Cavalier exclaimed to anyone within earshot, "He's gone!!"
* * *
"Not even you can break Tardos Keep, Venger! These walls have been strengthened by stone and spell for a thousand years!"
He remembered these words. Sulinara, Queen of Tardos, had uttered them in defiance years ago when it had been he who had attacked the Keep. There was a time when he would have not rested until she rued the day she had given voice to them.
Now, however, he wished the walls were just as impenetrable as before.
"What is it that you want?" he demanded aloud of the darkness around him.
A set of cold white eyes materializing from the black was the only reply he received for the moment. Then, a grim shape grew like a malignancy from the surrounding shade, forming a winged shadowy specter. "You have been summoned, Venger," the phantom finally said in an inky and crafty voice.
Venger lifted his chin as he peered down at the creature -- a creature who saw fit to use the Dark Lord's old name. "A shame that you were unable to invade these walls all those years ago, Shadow Demon," Venger replied coolly. "You may have proven yourself a far more useful spy."
"It took someone with greater power than yours to enable me to come and go as I please," the living shadow answered. "Especially in this place." He almost seemed to sneer at the new Dungeon Master. "Pity that you were too weak to breach it yourself."
Venger raised an eyebrow before speaking again. "Why have you come here?" he asked.
"To deliver a message," Shadow Demon responded in a hiss. "Your presence is requested, Venger. I believe you know the place."
Venger nodded. "Tell them that I shall be there."
Without another word, but with what sounded like a vicious and satisfied snarl, Shadow Demon slunk back into the darkened corner of the room, leaving the Dungeon Master alone. At the sound of a gentle nicker from behind, Venger turned. Uni had entered the chamber.
"Come, my friend," he said to the unicorn as he drew a kind hand down the length of her forehead to her muzzle. "We have been summoned."
* * *
"Hear my cries and heed my bellow. What I need's a nice, soft pillow!"
Presto's hat began to glow with a familiar light as he reached in and felt around its fathomless interior.
"Don't give up your day job, Dr. Presto," Eric remarked from a few feet away. "Dr. Seuss you're not!"
Presto grumbled as he continued to grope through the inside of the hat, flinching every couple of movements.
"Speaking of 'doctors' . . . ," Eric added, focusing more of his attention on a slimy coating of black growth attached to a marble column to his right than on the friend to whom he was speaking. He recoiled with a strangled sound as the dark mucilaginous glaze suddenly seemed to sprout eyes and blink at him. The Cavalier danced backward a few feet from the column, rubbing and brushing fiercely up and down his body as though something rather unpleasant had been crawling on him that he couldn't quite locate. Diana looked at him from where she stood in front of Presto, her cinnamon eyes wide and staring, as if they were unable to decide if they were shocked or profoundly amused at Eric's abrupt actions. Meanwhile, the unknown slimy creature had lazily closed its eyes and returned to its dormant state.
Diana shifted her glare from her friend to the 'offending' organism. "Well, you sure showed that thing who's boss!" she announced. "Imagine how much worse it could have been if it had actually touched you!"
Eric regained his composure as though nothing had happened, squaring his shoulders and needlessly brushing off the front of his armor. "Speaking - of - 'doctors,'" he repeated, with purpose, not acknowledging Diana's remark, though, under her stare, his cheeks were now blotchy with the embarrassed shade of red he often wore as a teenager after doing something inane, "How come Venger didn't do something to help fix you up, Presto? He could have used magic, couldn't he? Or was the pull of getting back to the Dungeon Master's grand tradition of hide-and-seek just too great?"
Presto shrugged as he continued to rummage around the inside of the hat, a movement that caused him to flinch yet again, his golden eyes looking watery from the stinging jolt. "Maybe it just feels worse than it is," he ventured. "Or maybe it's just another 'he's-not-supposed-to-interfere' thing. After all, the old Dungeon Master never did anything like that either."
Eric snorted. "Yeah, yeah, that's what all the DM's say! Probably just fancy talk for avoiding malpractice." He wagged his finger at his friends. "This is why I don't like HMO's."
Presto rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his smirk. "Well, maybe he did help and it just hasn't kicked in yet. I don't know why you guys are making such a fuss anyway," he added shortly. "I'm really starting to feel fine. I told you that!"
He finally managed to pull out an answer to his query from his hat, but it was hardly a pillow. It was more like a burlap sack. "Potato sack race, anyone?" the Magician suggested with an encouraging nod. "I think I'm up to it!"
Diana glared down at Presto angrily, her hands on her hips. "Better to be safe than sorry! And why are you being such a baby? You're a doctor, aren't you?"
"Doctors make the worst patients, you know!" the Magician grumbled as he flinched again.
"Well, I'm never going to get finished if you keep squirming all over the place!"
Presto conceded with another grumble and handed over the sack. Diana folded it into a square-shaped bundle and placed it against his side. She reached for a piece of the thin tapestry that Bobby had found and torn into strips for her. Holding the makeshift pillow in place with one hand, she wound the strips around Presto's torso to immobilize the injured area.
"Too tight?" she asked.
Presto shook his head. "No, it's just fine." He looked up at her. "You do good work."
"I should hope so!" she chuckled teasingly. "You know, it would work better if you let me bind your arm to your side, too," Diana said to him with a bit more seriousness, as though Dr. Preston Myers didn't already know the best way to set a rib fracture. "It'll support you better. And it'd make breathing a lot easier."
"No, thanks," Presto replied. "I'll feel better if my arms are free. But thank you," he added with a wry smile. "Thanks, Diana."
The Acrobat returned his smile; a softer smile with less teasing behind it than the one she had flashed him before. "You're welcome," she said. "I guess it would be too much to ask for you not to move, so I'll just say take it easy, okay?"
"Deal," the Magician nodded.
"Daddy?"
Presto looked up to see Varla standing nearby with Ayesha and Toby. "Hey, Princess!" he exclaimed as his face immediately brightened. "You're not supposed to be up!" The girl sat down on the column beside him and Presto placed a tender hand on her scarved forehead. The colorful sash that had surrounded her head as ornamentation now served as a bandage covering the gash that she received upon striking the fountain. Her vermilion hair looked dull and tangled beneath it, in contrast to its usual appearance which was like sleek, fiery tinsel. But it was the least of what was to be expected after her ordeal. They all, in fact, looked tired, dingy, and in need of some serious recuperation time. But Varla's face, it seemed to Presto, as though in defiance to all that hardship, was relieved and bright as she smiled back at him.
"I wanted to see if you were okay," she replied as she surveyed the people in the courtyard around her. "You, and everybody else."
"We're all fine," Presto affirmed. "So far nothing too terrible."
Varla grinned in relief and glanced around the room again. "Where's Uni?" she asked as a puzzled look crossed her face.
Presto looked up as well. "She's . . . . Well, that's strange," he muttered. "She's gone, too. She was here a minute ago."
* * *
Diana left her friend with his daughter and crossed the courtyard. Eric had, likewise, departed to look for his son. The Acrobat found herself pausing for a moment at what used to be the large reflecting pool at the base of the main stairway. Where she had once seen a crystal-clear image of herself looking back, was now nothing more than an opaque tarn of murky sludge. She sighed deeply as she looked away.
"Guess this wasn't exactly the vacation any of us had planned."
Diana glanced up again at the sound of Hank's voice behind her. The Ranger had descended three quarters of the way down the long staircase before Diana spotted him.
She smiled as he approached, then shrugged. "Beats hanging around my brother's house playing 'it's-your-turn-to-choose-where-we're-eating-tonight!'" she laughed.
Hank returned her smile. "Yes, and I'll buy that when the Devil starts ice-skating to work!" he jibed good-naturedly.
"You don't know the types of places my brother likes to eat at!" Diana assured him. "In the last one there was hay and peanut shells all over the floor! And don't get me started on the bathroom . . . !" She trailed off with a shudder.
"Bet you didn't think you'd be put to work on this trip," the Ranger commented, observing the strips of threadbare tapestry that she was still carrying around.
"Semper paratus!" Diana said as she wound the remainder of the makeshift bandages into a roll. "'Always ready,' just like the Coast Guard! Comes from working the graveyard shift as an EMT to help pay for my Masters at UCLA." Hank laughed briefly, then Diana saw her friend's face fall. "What's wrong?"
"Since we've had a few minutes to rest, I've been doing some thinking," the Ranger replied. Diana noted that his eyes looked suddenly bewildered and almost lost, as they often had years ago, any time they watched a portal to their world vanish in a flash of fate. He set his mouth into a tight grim line as he continued, "About the past . . . and what might have happened if we had made different choices."
"What kinds of choices?"
Hank looked her in the eye. "The last time we were here, I felt like it was my job to get you all home," he told her.
"You were a good leader, Hank," Diana responded. "You helped us to believe that we could make it." When his face still held that strange look, she cocked her head with a firm mien of reassurance. "And we did."
The Ranger's dour expression softened a bit at her words. "I may have taken up the role of leader, but I'll tell you what. I couldn't have done it if it weren't for you guys backing me up -- keeping me believing in myself. Diana, you --" He finally managed a smile. "-- you've been one of my best friends for a long time. And I think that knowing you were behind me through it all made it easier for me to do what I had to do."
The Acrobat blushed a bit at the compliment. "Thank you, Hank," she said, and was about to say more when she noticed the Ranger's face regress into its previous severe look.
"I just can't help but think," Hank continued, "That if I was really the leader you all needed me to be, I would have made it so we wouldn't have to come back here again." He paused for a moment before adding, much more quietly, "So our children would never have needed to be brought to this . . . place."
So that's what's bothering him, Diana thought, her face falling a bit in response to her friend's helpless demeanor. He blames himself for us having to come back here. For the kids being forced into this. It wasn't often that Hank showed this side, even as a teenager. She could literally count on one hand the number of times their unofficial leader had allowed his despair to show; and those were usually quietly and privately, during night watch when neither he nor Diana could sleep. Only once could she recall him ever losing hold of his emotions in front of the whole group – the time they faced Venger in the Dragon's Graveyard. The time they had almost destroyed him for good . . . .
Hank looked away. "Maybe if we had . . . or if I had . . . stayed a little longer . . . fought off the remaining evil in the Realm like Dungeon Master had asked us to. Maybe things would have been different -- now."
Hank glanced around the destruction that was once the majestic Tardos Keep. He would have been happy living out the rest of his life never knowing the horrible fate that had befallen this beautiful place. Especially since he may have had the power to do something about it. His mind turned to his friends, his family, and especially the children. Since arriving here, they had faced real-life battles, encountered raging Orcs, witnessed devastating magic, and had their very lives threatened over and over. His own daughter had been forced to stare down a merciless force of evil after seeing Bobby nearly die before her eyes. The people that the Ranger loved did not belong here. And if something he could have done in the past might have prevented this —
"Would you really want things to be different though, Hank?" Diana's peaceful voice broke him out of his mental reproach. She placed a tender hand on his arm and sat him down on the steps, easing herself next to him. "You can't honestly believe that you had the responsibility to right all the wrongs and prevent all the suffering in two worlds." She looked him square in the eye. "You shoulder too much. We were given a choice sixteen years ago after we beat Venger and we made our decision together. We chose to go home. And look at everything you have as a result of that decision. You have Sheila, you have a beautiful daughter, you have a happy life. You can't feel responsible for the path that a person takes after you leave them. The same goes for the Realm."
"All I do, all day long is study and discuss the past," Hank said with a minute shrug. "It's what I do for a living, so I guess I can't help but think about it."
"Well, you're Mr. History!" Diana joked, using the name with which Eric had labeled Hank earlier. She then found a more serious tone, but kept an encouraging smile on her face. "Learn from the past, yes, but don't live in it," she said. "Remember when you were trying to figure out the best way to ask Sheila for a date?"
Hank nodded with up-cast eyes and couldn't force down the smile that crept across his face. Diana had actually been the one who had helped him to, as he called it, "get his butt in gear," by insisting that the stunning redhead really did like him, and that he had nothing to lose by asking.
Their first date had been the day the Young Ones were transported to the Realm.
"If you hadn't done that," Diana continued, "Maybe nothing would have come of it after we got back. And if you, or all of us, had stayed in the Realm, you might not have the life that you have now. Besides," she added with a bright smile, "I have just as much faith in you now as I ever did, Ranger. You'll lead us home again. I know it!"
Hank smiled at the woman who, with the exception of his wife, had been his long-time friend as well as his rock. "Thanks," he said as he rose off the step. He straightened his tunic, almost a visual signal that the previous matter was closed and a new topic of conversation was about to begin. "So," he said, reaching a hand down to help her up as well, "I didn't get to ask you about what happened with Mordreth. I guess it wasn't foremost on my mind since everyone seemed to have made it back in one piece."
As she allowed Hank to pull her to her feet, Diana fingered the still-tender lump on the back of her head from when Eric had tackled her out from underneath Mordreth's ceiling. "More or less," she agreed. "Although, to be honest, there were a few moments where I had my doubts."
Hank narrowed his eyes in concern. "Was it bad?" he asked. The Mistress of War had been bad enough. He hated to think about what the Dark Lord of Destruction had done to his friends.
Diana shrugged. "Nothing that the Cavalier and I couldn't handle," she announced with an air of dramatic triumph.
Hank smiled softly. "Some things don't change."
"And, of course, the kids were incredible," Diana added quickly. "It was like they'd been doing this for as long as we have!"
"I can vouch for that, too," the Ranger affirmed. "In fact, I'm going to go check on my fellow 'soldiers' right now. What do you say we all meet down here in about an hour? With any luck, Venger will reappear and we'll learn what more we have to do to go home."
"Good plan, Ranger," Diana grinned, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as Hank turned from her to find Sheila, Ayesha, Teri, and Bobby. She looked up and to her left where she caught a glimpse of the Cavalier and his son standing together just across the courtyard. She paused for a moment before starting to make her way over.
* * *
John made several quick parries through the air, his hand gripping an imaginary sword. He stepped forward into a dramatic thrust as he grinned up at his father. The Squire's eyes shone like a boy at play without a care in the world, and part of Eric twisted inside to think about what his son had really had to face.
Fake swordplay is the only kind of battle he should have ever known, Eric thought. He shook his head. I thought we were done with this place.
"Y'think Cassie's worried about us?" John mused offhandedly through his random thrusts, breaking Eric out of his reverie.
"I don't know," the Cavalier sighed in reply, although doubting it immensely. Not only was it possible that very little time had actually gone by on Earth, but Cassie, herself, was practically dauntless. He wondered if even this story would faze the ever-composed nanny. She would probably just smile and throw out one of her little pearls of wisdom as though nothing earth-shattering had occurred. He could just picture the calm look in her sky blue eyes as he launched into his chronicle of what had happened, as well as how she might respond:
Well, Cass, it's like this. The kids were nabbed off the Dungeons and Dragons ride by this seven-foot-tall, formerly-evil warlock and sucked into an alternate dimension to take on three creatures created by the nastiest, nameless Column-Of-Fire you could ever meet. So, of course, my friends and I had to go after them and – since there's apparently a dress code for fighting evil – we had to go looking like we were headed for the role-playing club's annual fantasy convention. Anyway, the bad guys showed up, they scared us, we fought them, and they went away; book closed, end of story -- all this and home in time for supper. And by the way, what is for supper? 'Cause, you know, vanquishing evil sure works up an appetite!
Well, Eric, a wise man once said, 'To step into the breach and face the unknown for that which you value most is the greatest risk worth taking.' That's the first thing you should know.
Riiiiight . . . . And is there a second thing?
Sonja made pot roast.
Oh.
Eric shook his head, bringing himself out of his daydream. Nope, Cassie probably wouldn't even raise an eyebrow. Though she may use his clearly insane story as ammunition in her crusade against him working too hard. (That was if he was lucky. She could petition to have him committed.) And if it wouldn't be just like her to turn this into a parable! For an insane moment, the Cavalier wondered what would have happened if he had brought John's nanny along. They were, after all, going through some serious riddle withdrawal on this trip.
"So, Dad," John said, changing the subject as he made an elaborate figure-eight through the air with his 'sword,' "What kind of monsters and stuff did you kick the crap out of while you were here?"
Eric exhaled thoughtfully through his teeth, too busy thinking of an answer to the question to give much thought to his son's uncouth choice of words. "Well . . . ," he began. He looked down at his shield and, for the first time, wished that he had been given a different weapon. A bow like Hank's or even a club like Bobby's may have painted a more impressive picture of the Cavalier's time in the Realm. Granted, he had that sword now (Well, sort of), but that was a new addition. (Hell, he hadn't even had it long enough to get used to the stupid thing!) But a shield? Just a shield? Kind of hard to "kick the crap" out of anything with that. Not to mention the fact that the Cavalier had spent at least three quarters of his time here either hiding behind it or running screaming from every fight. It was a good long time in this world before Eric had started to act on the courage that had always been buried within him. And even longer before the Cavalier, himself, had realized that it was there. Once again, he found himself intimidated at the thought of disappointing his son.
"Well," Eric began again, "We all . . . ."
"You were a hero, right?" the youth coaxed eagerly.
The tips of Eric's ears reddened a bit. "Well, I don't know about--"
"You were great," John interrupted. "Bobby said you were."
Eric was taken aback. "H-he did?" The Cavalier felt an unconscious grin curl a corner of his mouth.
"He said that you saved everybody's lives and that you even fought Venger one-on-one! He said you were awesome!"
Eric's grin widened and he chuckled. All this from Bobby. The Cavalier and the Barbarian had been eternally on each others' case, but right now, Eric almost felt bad about all the teasing he had inflicted upon the kid. He'd have to thank Bobby when they saw each other later. Eric shrugged modestly as he opened his mouth to speak. "Actually . . . ."
"Now tell him the truth, Cavalier," a voice came from nearby. Diana stood leaning against a broken wall. She uncrossed her arms and took a few more steps toward them. Eric was a bit unnerved by the smile on her face, which was bright but shrewd, and his ears turned red again.
"I think your son is entitled to the whole story, don't you?" she asked playfully.
Eric grimaced. What was it going to be? How he almost married Queen Zinn for her treasure? How opening his big mouth usually resulted in the group getting chased by random ogres, barbarians, and bullywogs? How his most sarcastic commentary was often reserved for Dungeon Master and his riddles? Or, better yet, his latest, very impressive, encounter with the Evil-Column-Slime-Creature-of-Death? The tips of his ears were burning hot now.
Diana turned to John. "Your father," she said, "Once led an entire tribe of Bogbeasts to fight for their freedom. Did he tell you that?" She flashed a sideways smile at the Cavalier who blinked back at her in slight shock. He felt his own smile renew, surprised that she had conveniently left out the fact that he had been one of the frog-faced creatures at the time.
John shook his head and continued to look at Diana, eager for her to continue. "He was always the one who protected all of us," she said, clearly getting into the drama of her explanation. "He's saved my neck more times than I can count. And he was really smart. In fact, it was your dad's quick thinking that eventually got us home." Eric stared at her with absolute disbelief now. "Don't you remember, Eric?" she said as she turned back to the Cavalier. "You were the one who unlocked the cenotaph at Realm's Edge instead of throwing the key into that Abyss." She bent down to whisper in John's ear in a voice that was not intended to be very quiet. "That was how Venger turned good again!"
"Diana," Eric said as a modest plea for her to stop. The Acrobat knew as well as he did that using the key had actually been Hank's idea. But Eric kept smiling anyway.
All John could say was, "Wow!" in a voice that was scarcely a breath.
"I'm sorry," Diana said as she broke character and straightened up again. "I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?"
"Nah," Eric said, collecting himself, "In fact, I'd been meaning to officially introduce you. John, this is my good friend Diana Beck-- er, Vaughn. Diana Vaughn."
"Beckett," Diana corrected softly. She turned her face to Eric for a moment before addressing John again. "Diana Beckett. It's really a pleasure to meet you, John." She extended her hand to the boy with a warm smile. He accepted it in kind.
"Well," she announced, "I was just checking up on everybody – and letting you know that Hank wants us all to met in the square in about an hour. I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing."
"Oh, n-no, that's okay," John faltered as he looked from Eric to Diana. "I was just leaving anyway." The boy backed away a few steps with a smirk before turning and walking swiftly across the courtyard.
"Was it something I said?" Diana chuckled. "He seemed eager to—" She faced Eric.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," he said with a shake of his head, although he was still smiling. "I think you gave me a lot more credit than I deserved."
"Hey, I told you," the Acrobat returned, "I don't lie to kids. I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true."
* * *
John was still walking away, craning his head back every few feet to catch glimpses of his father and Diana behind him; so much so that he neglected to watch where he was going. The Squire felt himself strike something and tumble backwards onto his rump.
"You know, the chances or tripping are smaller if you actually look where you're going," drawled a lazy sounding voice from above him. "And you were the one who complained at me for ramming into you when we first met!"
John looked up to see Toby standing over him, the older boy looking slightly self-righteous, if not a bit mischievous, as though he was very pleased about something. The Fighter lowered his hand to help the boy up. "Smooth, Johnny Boy. Real smooth," Toby sighed with a cocky grin on his face. "That wasn't obvious or anything!"
John accepted Toby's offer of his hand, but then brushed it away as soon as he was standing. "What are you talking about?" he said in the defensive voice that he had used so often before.
The Fighter shrugged. "It's no use trying to hide it," he replied. "You want to see them get back together."
"What!?!" the boy exclaimed. "I don't know what the heck you're talking about! What makes you think I want my dad to get . . . . What do you mean 'back' together?" John's demeanor went from defensive to curious.
"Oh, . . . uh, yeah," Toby responded, a bit hesitant suddenly since this was obviously something that John hadn't known. "Your father and my Aunt Di were an item once. Oh, it was years ago. I was just a baby." He paused for a moment as though something had just struck him. "It must have been right after they got back from this place," he added quietly, more to himself.
"Is that why you were giving me such a hard time when we met!?" John suddenly bellowed, snapping Toby out of his thoughts. "Because my dad dumped your aunt?"
"Hey!" Toby returned as he clamped his hand over the younger boy's mouth. "Shh!" He glanced back and forth to see if anyone had heard the Squire's rant before releasing him. "Watch it, Montgomery! And what makes you think he dumped her anyway? My aunt's pretty smart. If you ask me, she probably dropped him like a bad habit!"
"Oh, yeah!?" John began formulating a comeback.
Toby slung his arm around the Squire's neck. "Hey, John, I'm just kidding, buddy," he said with a lopsided grin. "Just kidding."
John quieted a bit as he glanced back over to where he left Eric with Diana. "Truth?" he asked.
Toby nodded. "Sure."
The Squire shrugged with a sheepish smile. "I . . . I kinda like your aunt. I-I mean . . .," He straightened his shoulders and took on a more disinterested air. "You know . . . she's okay."
Toby grinned back. "Of course you do. She's the best," he affirmed. "And I'll let you in on a little secret, Johnny Boy," he continued as he lowered his voice and followed John's gaze back in the direction Diana and Eric, "I don't think you're alone."
* * *
"Well, Mr. Montgomery," Diana said, "You've managed to raise a fine son. I don't know what you were so worried about." She crossed her arms back over her chest and took a step closer to his side.
"I wasn't worried," Eric replied. "I just said that there were things I should have done differently. Better."
"Well," Diana laughed, "Whatever you did, he doesn't seem to resent you at all." She glanced over in the direction that the boy had walked across the yard. "In fact, he seems to worship the ground you walk on. I mean, he's strutting around with your shield's emblem painted to his chest like it's a badge of honor. I can tell he's a great kid."
Eric shrugged as he sat down on a moss-covered bench. Removing his gauntlets and setting them aside, he rubbed at his hands momentarily before resting them on his thighs. "He's got his mother's best qualities," he said quietly.
Diana suddenly felt as though she had been stung. She uncrossed her arms and sat down beside her friend, hesitating briefly before blanketing one of his hands with her own in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry," she whispered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "I never meant to--"
"No, it's okay," Eric interrupted. He turned his head to face her, allowing his eyes to linger on hers. It only lasted a few moments, but it felt much longer. He then turned back to facing front. "I mean, it's been nearly twelve years. It doesn't hurt to think about her nearly as much as it did but, you know, I still miss her. I'll always miss her."
Diana nodded her head in understanding. "Believe me, Eric," she said, "I know how it feels to lose your first love."
"Yeah, I guess you do," the Cavalier returned with a dry smile. "First-hand experience." He fell quiet again for a few moments. "So, how are you feeling now, any better?" he finally asked, changing the subject.
"Let me put it this way, Eric," Diana answered, "I am so glad that my hair isn't as long as it used to be! Otherwise, I'd still look like the bride of Frankenstein from that electric shock I got."
"Still bad?"
Diana shrugged. "It's not so much that it hurts," she said. "It's more like I can still feel some of the magic under my skin." She rubbed her hands up and down the lengths of her arms, as though trying to massage away a bone-deep chill. "I've pretty much been able to ignore it, though, since this has happened before."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, . . . Starfall," she replied, as though the answer should have been obvious. "It's similar to that fiery, tingly feeling that I felt for the days after Starfall. Almost like there's not enough room for both the magic and me in my own body. But it'll go away. It did the last time."
"I'm sorry," Eric muttered.
"Hey, there's nothing you could have done!" the Acrobat reassured him. "You kinda had your hands full!"
"Well, yeah, but I was really talking about . . . . You know, I tried to change the subject before, but we still ended up back at that whole Starfall / Kosar thing again." Eric shrugged with a regretful expression. "Sorry."
Diana turned to him with a smile. "Don't be," she told him. "It's just like you said: It doesn't hurt to think about it as much as it used to. You always miss your first love, but you never forget them."
"And I did love Denise," Eric nodded. He looked up at her with an expression that was suddenly unreadable, as though he was trying to convey something with his eyes, but could quite figure out how to do it . . . or even if he should. He finally opened his mouth to speak again, shrugging his way uncomfortably through the words. "I loved her very much . . . but . . . um, . . . I'd be lying if I said she was my first love."
Diana chewed on her bottom lip as she suddenly felt very uneasy. Then she forced up a large smile. "Oh, that's right," she exclaimed, a bit over-dramatically, "There was Queen Zinn!"
"Pfft! Oh, come on!" Eric said in a droning laugh that broke, momentarily, through his awkwardness. "Give me a little credit, would you?"
"Sorry," Diana replied, chuckling herself.
Eric suddenly turned serious. "I've been wanting to say something to you," he said with a fair amount of hesitation. "I wasn't going to because it's a little bit nuts. But after all we've been through in the few days we've been back in this crazy world, I figured that if I don't I'll probably regret it."
Diana nodded silently for him to continue.
"I was telling Hank the night of the reunion how mad I was at myself that we never kept in touch with each other. I never meant to lose your friendship, Diana, and I hope I never have to again." He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, and purposefully avoiding the Acrobat's eyes. "But it's more than that, and I think I realized it back in Mordreth's fortress . . . when you told me to leave you under that ceiling. Losing your friendship was bad; losing you entirely would have been unbearable."
"Eric . . . ," Diana muttered softly.
"No, let me finish," the Cavalier insisted with a nervous chuckle, "This is the crazy part. Ever since we got back to this world, I've been having thoughts . . . about maybe giving us another shot. But," he quickly added, "You know, with Cale and everything . . . . Anyway, I told you it was nuts!" Eric flashed his trademark smirk.
Diana looked at him as though processing what he had just said. Then, carefully, she began to speak. "Do you remember last night when you kissed me?" she asked.
Eric contorted his face as though thinking very hard. "Now, let me see . . . ." Diana gave him a shot in the arm. "Ow! Yes! Yes! Of course I remember!"
Diana half-grinned at his attempt at a joke before continuing. "I thought a lot about whether or not it happened just because we were back in the Realm. I thought about how complicated it could make things once we got home. I thought about how hard it would be. But then, when we were battling Mordreth together, I thought about how much harder it would be without the other person around . . . even someone who makes me as crazy as you do!"
Eric raised a questioning eyebrow, but allowed her to continue.
"We went through a lot of hardship in the Realm," Diana said, "But after we got back, I did something that I never would have done here: I took an easy way out. After all the fighting we did in this world, the one thing we should have fought for, we didn't. I was all wrapped up in how hard things would be -- the problems, the so-called 'social pressure' -- I never imagined that I had put myself down the hardest path of all."
Diana met his eyes fully, something she hadn't really done up to now, and Eric could see himself mirrored in their deep coloring, like twin points of polished bronze. "Let me put it to you this way, Eric," she said after a long silent moment, "it couldn't possibly be harder for me to get over Cale Vaughn . . . than it was to get over you." Diana lowered her eyes, as though bringing a curtain down on his reflection, and the Cavalier felt a twinge of loss at their absence.
Eric's mouth felt dry, but he couldn't resist asking the one question that had been on his mind, "What about Kosar?"
Diana shrugged, almost shyly, still avoiding his gaze. "Getting over Kosar was difficult. But getting over your first love is easier . . . than trying to get over the love of your life."
Eric's expression was a mixture of shock and joy. He then backed off for a moment with a thoughtful look. "That is me, right?" he asked, followed by a charming smile.
Diana gave an exasperated sigh, finally bringing her line of vision up from where it had been focused on her lap. "And to think I told your son that you were smart!" she droned. Eric's smile brightened as he reached forward to take her hands. "But," Diana stopped him as she interjected, "I will admit, trying it again won't be easy – here or at home. Don't forget you have a son whose feelings you have to consider before anything else."
Eric shook his head, his smile never fading. "I meant what I said last night about you being a great parent. Always thinking of the child's feelings first." He glanced over to where he had watched John disappear earlier. The boy was nowhere in sight now. "But something tells me my son's going to like you."
"Now, Cavalier," Diana warned, "You're not just saying that because we don't know how, or if, we're even going to make it home this time?"
Eric fixed his gaze on his feet for a moment. Then his voice came again, in all sincerity, echoing Diana's earlier words. "I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true."
He finally raised his head to a position where, again, his eyes managed to lock on hers. Gone were the feelings of awkwardness that had bubbled up earlier every time he looked at her; the doubt, the questions about whether or not he even had the right to feel what he had been feeling since seeing her again. The only thing left was the warm familiarity that had been there sixteen years ago, and Eric's smile widened. He reached forward to take one of her hands and, this time, Diana let him. "You want to hear something else?" he asked very quietly as his other came up to touch the side of her face. "I love you, Diana Vaughn. I have for a long time. I still do. And I know now that I always will."
Diana smiled back, barely daring to blink as she looked at him. "Beckett," she said softly. "My name is Diana Beckett."
She then closed her eyes as she felt him move toward her, though a clear image of the man before her still burned vividly across her inner lids; the face of the swaggering youth he had been, the true friend that he was, the selfless and courageous man that he had become. Her pulse quickened as she slowly began to feel the warm puff of his breath on her face and the smell of sweat mingled faintly with the still-present scent of spicy, expensive soap.
He paused hesitantly where he was, as though teetering on the edge of a chasm that had been formed over the past sixteen years, one that he hadn't felt able to cross the last time he had been this close to her, almost twenty-four hours before. He caught his breath and stroked the pad of his thumb across her face before taking a final leap of faith across that chasm, closing the gap between them until their lips gently touched.
And this time, she let him.
* * *
Hank found Sheila at the high window that overlooked Tardos Valley. "Where are the others?" he asked.
"Bobby and Teri were just here," she replied. "And Ayesha went back downstairs to see Varla and the other children."
The Ranger put his arm around his wife as he reached her and gazed out the window, too. Although the valley itself was rocky and barren, the light that the low suns cast upon the rocks created a mosaic of color, dancing and changing as the light hit them. In the distance, a harmonious moan could be heard, like whale song, as the call of one of the Realm's many creatures was carried over the terrain until it reached the ears of the listening humans. Not very often had the Young Ones been afforded the opportunity to enjoy the alien beauty of this world's sights and sounds. And even less often had Hank and Sheila been able to enjoy them together. Hank wrapped both arms around Sheila and held her closer. She allowed her head to drop back against his shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"I was just wondering where Venger disappeared to," Sheila replied. "Whenever the old Dungeon Master left us, we at least had some information about where we had to go and what we had to do. Venger . . . was just gone."
"I'm sure he'll be back soon," Hank reassured her. "He wouldn't leave us flying blind. Not after he helped us all to get back here."
"I know," Sheila sighed. "It may seem strange, but I trust him. Even after everything that happened in the past, I still trust him. It's just that . . . ," she paused thoughtfully as she reached up to grip the arms that enfolded her, ". . . I can't shake the feeling that something is going to happen. And I'm worried, Hank. For our children, for us, even for Venger. I'm just . . . worried."
* * *
The appointed hour of night had not yet arrived. In fact, it was barely dusk. But the obscure darkness that shrouded the land was enough for midnight. The towering individual stood nobly on the stark plain, gazing at the ancient megaliths surrounding him. He had been here before, among the primitive configuration of tomb-like dolmens, encircled by the surreal glow of a cold mantle of fog. The last time, however, he had called the meeting. He had been the aggressor. Now, he could only wait with knowing wariness for the ones who had heralded him.
He heard a soft thumping at the ground nearby and turned. He regarded the beautiful single-horned mare who stood there, almost seeming to shed her own illumination, regardless of the desolate gloom around them. "Calm, my friend," he attempted to ease her. "It will not be long now."
"Indeed, it will not," a venomous woman's voice hissed through the fog. Nearly as icy as the air itself.
A magical bolt split the air and struck the center of the circle of towering basalt stones. When it dispersed, it revealed a triad of figures, at first dimly glimpsed through the swirling haze, then growing increasingly visible. The individual in the center raised a finely arched brow over a callous golden eye. "Venger," she sneered.
The former Archmage, for the first time, scowled at the word, baring teeth that were no longer fanged, but every bit as angered. "That is not my name," he stated in a cold and level voice, regaining his proud posture as he glared back at Kadysse and her consociates.
The wicked siren tossed her scarlet hair, which fell in cascades over the shoulders of the midnight black gown that she was once again wearing. She shot an amused glance in the direction of Mordreth on her right and Bane on her left before addressing the man in front of her again, her voice a cruel purr.
"That's right -- it's Dungeon Master now. You should know, fool, that we shall never acknowledge you as a 'master' of anything," Kadysse announced with a vicious grin. "Not even to this accursed dungeon of a Realm. You are a traitor to the One whom you once called 'Master,' yourself. Or do you not remember?"
"I remember hatred coursing through my veins," the Dungeon Master replied calmly. "As well as the brutality, evil, and savagery that accompanied the serving of your Lord. I recall the countless lives and lands that I destroyed in His name. But I also recall the sense of freedom and peace at being released from His control."
"You are more of a puppet than ever," Bane snarled over Kadysse's left shoulder. "This Realm is the Master that controls you now. You are chained to it in servitude, when you could have been ruling in domination."
The former Venger raised a civil eyebrow to the reptilian creature who now donned his former garments. "I serve the Realm and its people," he responded, "As it was meant to be. And if it is a bond, then so be it. Better to attend to the righteous than cower in dread from a Master who would smite on a whim."
"And your precious Young Ones?" Kadysse asked. "You believe that the ones who -- redeemed you can save you? As well as your beloved Realm . . . should our Master's whim be to strike down everything that you see?"
Dungeon Master held his head proudly, glaring at the evil trinity. "They have saved us," he affirmed. "With the purity in their hearts they have beaten you." His eyes traveled steadily over the beings before him. "Just as they did me, in my folly, time and time again." His ruby eyes flashed and focused in a dead stare. "As they will continue to do to you if needs be." He straightened and summoned a commanding voice. "I ask you to leave this place and carry out your Master's evil elsewhere."
"An ultimatum? From you?" Kadysse threw her head back, her wicked laughter echoing over the massive dolmens and swirling into the churning fog. Uni stomped at the ground in a frightened dance as the malevolent cackle rang through the chilling darkness. The Dungeon Master raised a hand to calm her.
"Fool," Mordreth growled deeply, "The only thing you have accomplished by bringing them here is the heightening of our Master's hatred for you and your abominable Realm. And," he added as his bony helm curled into a satisfied sneer, "You have doomed your pupils."
Kadysse ceased her vicious laughter, locking her feral eyes onto the Dungeon Master's. "Your threats are hollow. Ours, however, are not! It was foolish of you to believe that He would not tend to this matter personally," she hissed. "But you always were rash where the Master was concerned. In your haste for what you call 'freedom,' did you even conceive that He would want revenge upon you for your betrayal? . . . As well as on those who stole you from Him?"
Dungeon Master's eyes widened reflexively, with more alarm than he would have liked, bringing a pleased smile to Kadysse's lips. She broke away from her companions and moved to stand directly in front of him. The evil woman may have been dwarfed by him in terms of size, but the chill smile both on her lips and in her eyes gave her a bearing of superiority so strident that she may have been ten feet tall. She placed a hand over the area of his heart and lightly curled her fingers inward, toying playfully with the fabric beneath them.
The Dungeon Master did not move or react.
As the Dark Mistress looked up into his face, her golden eyes met his garnet ones and she spread her hand out flat over his chest.
"Does this new heart of yours beat faster now that you know what you have done?" she sneered, so softly, yet so coldly that it may well have turned the fog around them to frozen crystal. "You have given the Master exactly what He wanted, fool. And you did not even know it! Strange how you were unable to do so as His servant -- but as His enemy you have delivered His adversaries directly into His hands." She leaned as close as she could to the hardened face of the Dungeon Master above her and said in a cruel whisper, "How deliciously ironic."
Slowly, Kadysse began to withdraw from him, her vicious smile still hovering across her mouth and her eyes still focused unyieldingly on his. Her hand trailed up his chest to his face where her fingertips lightly stroked his cheek – a cheek that had once been a macabre fish-pale blue; one that was now a fair ivory tone, though, at the moment, blemished faintly with crimson – but whether it was from the frigidness of the air or from something else couldn't be certain. Kadysse allowed her fingertips to linger upon his face briefly before sliding them away as she stepped back. It may have been a parting touch of affection had the woman before him not filled her every movement with such mordant hatred. "Farewell then, . . . Venger!" Kadysse finally said, deliberately spitting out the despised name through her teeth, her voice rising and dripping with disdain. Her shoulders shook with the beginnings of renewed mocking laughter.
As she spoke, the three evil creatures moved closer together, malevolent light permeating out of their eyes and lending itself to a horrific aura beginning to shine all around them. What started out as renewed laughter from the Mistress of War became a ghastly screech as a column of light exploded out of the triad and rocketed skyward, forming a crackling pillar of blinding magic. Venger watched as the shaft of light pierced the heavens and, after several eternal moments, vanished beyond the stars, leaving no trace of the evil creatures who had been standing before him.
"Pity," said a dark and unctuous voice from behind. The being once known as Venger turned and met a set of hollow, inimical eyes hovering within the shadowy and unsubstantial head of his former minion. The Dungeon Master regarded Shadow Demon with an expression of stone. "Pity that your pathetic father managed to escape my true Master's wrath," the living umbra sneered as he flew tauntingly close to the towering mage. "But his precious son, his beloved Young Ones . . . as well as the lives of their children . . . make for an even trade." He darted in front of his former lord's face, eyes squinting into a malicious smile. "Wouldn't you say, . . . Master?"
Venger glared scathingly at the creature who had once been his servant. "When?" he asked.
Shadow Demon almost seemed to give a small shrug, a minute gesture of disinterest. "When it suits Him," he replied. "Kadysse, Mordreth, and Bane have gone to rejoin Him. When He is ready, they will all come for you." Shadow Demon paused before adding, "As well as your Young Ones!"
The Dungeon Master took a reflexive step forward, causing the living shadow to shrink back in alarm. Shadow Demon froze for a brief second, then sank through the ground below him, retiring to the dark places where he resided to wait for his Master.
Alone again with Uni among the ancient megaliths and the luminary thick fog, the towering mage lost himself in deep thought. He seemed to stand motionless for a very long time before the unicorn nuzzled his arm gently. Awakening from his reverie, the former Venger placed one hand gently upon the withers of his loyal steed, and gripped his crystal amulet with the other. The latter hand began to tremble from his intense grip as the tear-shaped pendant glowed with an intense red light. "Come, my friend," he said, almost hypnotically, to Uni. "We must return."
The ominous clouds collecting over the land gathered too quickly and the mage lifted his head to face them. For the first time in two hundred years, the first time since becoming Keeper of the Realm, the Dungeon Master raised his eyes to the heavens . . . and was afraid.
* * *
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be continued
Author's Notes: Sure, things are all nice and calm for the Young Ones right now, but, obviously, all that is about to change – drastically! In chapters to come look for Eric's sword to make another appearance, Teri has more dreams of a future that doesn't look too bright, the evil trio returns for a final showdown (and they may not be alone!), an enemy appears that the Young Ones never would have suspected, Hank and Sheila test their mettle to save their family, and oh, yeah, someone may die. *shudder*
By my count, there should be about 5 chapters left. Hope you enjoy what's to come!
I should also mention that the mysterious meeting place at the end of this chapter is the same one in which Venger meets with the old Dungeon Master at the beginning of Michael Reaves' script for the unproduced "Requiem" episode. Any confusion caused by references made to that text can be cleared up by reading the story found at http://www.mindspring.com/~michaelreaves/D&Dpreface.html!
Special Thanks: To my friends and all reviewers!
Choo, John W. (who is writing his own terrific story!), Mayumi-H (whose RE fics are just great!), Callisto Jellicle, Lady Iapetus, Lain (current ArtMaster of the Realm 2002), Rod G., Charlie, Ossian, Mimi, Illusioness (a.k.a. Saoirse), Claire J. Cracknell / Bea, Rapier, Thomas, Danny Mitchell, Eric Sachs, ShadowDrake (who I hope writes more D&D soon!), Toni, SarWolf Snape, Stacy, Mike, Mistri, Kristy Marie, Miran, srg3332, Claire, Haystack, Jacob, carlyd, Thomas, ShadowCatJen, Northstar, Tomm Byrn, QOShea, thechairmanh2k, Beetlejuice, Tarvok (the constantly vigilant), Maz, Chance (the ever-supportive), Tommy, Cassie, Dre, Caryn, Joey, Goddess of Gushy Stuff (my 'snogging muse' *G*), Kat / Ntrophi and Lady Kayoss (with whom I love to discuss all things literary and, though they are not authors in this fandom, have helped me with this story more than they know), of course Heidi and EQ (my sounding boards), and Kimmy (Mistress of Darkhaven) whose incredible archive of stories by so many talented authors is one of the reasons I have written anything at all!
Also, the portraits drawn by Lain (without whom I would never know what the "New Dungeon Master" looked like *g*) can be found in the art gallery at http://www.zaksrealm.net/The_Realm.html.
Thank you! :)