A.N.- Why do I bother putting this at the top it only makes me cry --

A.N.- Please read and review!

Camp Fire Tales

Pain woke her from the darkness, Vrisiphiel tried to open her eyes, but they refused under the constant ache paralyzing the nerves. Her body felt light, adrift, and detached. She tried to latch onto something, anything, but in the empty void she only felt herself drifting further. Another spike of pain blasted through her, and she grabbed hold onto it like a drowning person clutching a straw. Never in her life had she appreciated pain like she did now, if she could feel the pain, it meant she was still alive. Alive.

Slowly, Vrisiphiel's senses returned. It was late morning, judging by the warmth of the sun shining on her face. She flexed her right hand, not yet having the feel of her left, feeling the smooth texture of the fabric beneath her. She was lying on a soft bed, below a window, with the scent of peacebloom carried over the warm breeze.

She was in a thin shift, with her wounded shoulder wrapped in bandages. Tracing her hand over burning flesh, the induced pain sent waves of nausea over her.

The young woman winced, and sat up to look at her surrounding. Smooth wooden walls, the heavy metal doors shut, while the windows open. The room wasn't big, about fifteen steps long as it is wide. A wardrobe in the corner, next to it a coat hangar, which upon hang a newly made blue robe. She could not see her old dress, though it was probably torn beyond patching. And there was also a standing mirror, tall as a man.

The girl in the mirror smiled at her, tangled brown hair cascaded down pale face to the shoulders, but those pair of green eyes shined with spirit. She climbed off the bed, and approached her, the hem of her shift dragging across the cold floor. She reached out for her. The mirror was icy cold to the touch, and she jerked her hand back in shock.

Fire, smoke, and darkness, far as the eyes can see. Foul stench in the air, and purple mist shrouds her.

'Vrisiphiel!' A voice called out to her. 'Say something Vrisiphiel. How did you end up on the floor? Come on now, hang in there. You lad, go get Master McCoy! Of course now! Run your legs off or I'll feed them to the wolves.'

Her body was shaking, wait no, someone was shaking her. A worried face hung over her, she tried to place a name to it, but all she could think of was the dull aching in the back of her head. And the burning field.

'You're awake! Thank goodness. Are you alright? Can you speak? Are you in pain? Now where's that healer you lazy no good slack off piece of canine feed! It's alright now, let's get you back into bed. The healer will be here soon.'

Khelden. The name finally surfaced. And it was then the young woman realized she was lying in the mage trainer's arms, his back to the mirror. She tried to raise herself up, but the mage mentor held her down.

'Don't move, you might cause the wounds to bleed again. You are on a good road to recovery, after what the healer called a miracle,' he picked her up, and laid her gently down on the bed, pulling the duvet over.

'I… thank you.' She said quietly.

'It's the least I can do. The town owes you that much at least,' upon Vrisiphiel's puzzling look, Khelden explained. 'You killed Garrick, no small feat that. Now the rogues will leave us alone for the time being, until they can get themselves a new leader.'

'You did well,' he laid a hand over her forehead, patting aside the stray locks in her eyes. 'Taking out a Defias leader. Just lie back now and get some rest. I'll go find out what happened to old fat McCoy.'

'I'm not fat,' someone coming through the door said. 'Morning lady mage.' The healer frowned. 'You look paler than last night. What happened?' He kept his eyes on her, though the question was directed at Khelden.

'Found her by the mirror, she must have gotten up and fainted.'

'That's a little naughty of her, she's in no shape to be out of bed. I thought I told you to stay here and keep her in It.'

'No body gives orders to me, not even McBride, and certainly not you.'

'Well suite yourself. I'll just go back to my nice spot under the sun and you to heal her.' Despite his talk, McCoy came to her side and placed two fingers on her wrist. 'She's in good spirit, likely just still weak after losing so much blood. A day more of rest should see her on her feet. I'll get someone to make some stew for her.'

Khelden nodded, relieved.

'Well don't just stand there, come, leave the lady alone so she can get some sleep.' McCoy hauled the dumbfounded mage through the door by the collar. 'You're coming with me, those boars aren't about to just hop in the cauldron by themselves, you've got to persuade them.'

The moon came up and made its way cross the starlit sky, falling behind the western hills as the blue darkness gave way to orange light. Start of a new day, and start of a new life for a young mage.

'You're leaving?' Khelden looked up at her from his book. 'But.. you haven't fully recovered yet. It's too dangerous.'

Vrisiphiel had come to bid the trainer farewell, after the Marshal asked her to deliver a message to Goldshire. She did not expect Khelden to take the news well, but the look on the man's face nearly made her decide to stay. No, she had to leave, the sooner the better too.

'I'm fine, really. Beside, I would really like to have a look around Goldshire, didn't get much of a chance with all that rain last time.' She wasn't lying, one would never know by looks that the young woman had been on the edge of death just three days ago, the stew Master McCoy made really brought strength to her body.

'What about your studies... you're a bright woman Vrisiphiel, I'd hate to lose a student like you. With just a months worth of study you could become a real mage, just like you've always wanted.'

She didn't reply, the young woman could find no words for this man before him. She only looked at him, her eyes green as spring forest.

The mage trainer sighed. 'I suppose nothing I say is going to change your mind,' he took out a piece of parchment and wrote a few lines on it before signing at the bottom. 'Here, take this. It's a letter to my colleague in Goldshire, Valdios Ellmara, you'll be able to continue your study with him while you're there.' He held out the letter, which after a moment of hesitation, she took and carefully slotted in the side pocket of her bag.

'Farewell, Vrisiphiel.' The older mage said. 'Thank you for everything you have done.'

'Goodbye.' She turned away from him, not daring to linger any longer less emotions take her.

'Take care out there.' Khelden Bremen said as she headed for the door. 'The light shine upon you.'

Looking over her shoulder, she smiled. 'You too.'

Out in the hallway, the healer caught up with her. Holding a small chest in his hand. With great care, he opened the lid, revealing a intricately engraved silver ring.

'A parting gift, as a show of our gratitude. Lady mage,' McCoy explained. 'This is one of the thousand soul keep left over from the ages of past. It is a rare artifact nowadays, but not much use if I just leave it in the chest for another thousand year.' He pressed the ring into her hand. 'Wear it, and your spirit will remain unharmed, despite what perils you may go through physically.'

'Usually, when a person dies, their soul dissipates, and they are gone forever. But with this, the wearer's soul will be bound to ancient monoliths, where the soul will go to upon the fall of its body. There, one of my brethrens have to power to bring the wearer back to life, or the wearer may wish to find his fallen body and re-establish the connection, and resurrects there.'

'This… I…' The young mage gaped in shock, her minds reeling at the magnitude of this gift.

'But still be weary of taking risks, the powers of these rings may become exhausted, and the wearer's soul become vulnerable once more, so avoid death if you can. The ring is a last resort.'

'I.. you can not give me this, it's… I cannot take it,' she shook her head, trying to return the ring to the healer. 'I am not worth of such a thing. Keep it for someone more worthy of it.'

The healer closed Vrisiphiel's hand around the ring. 'There are none other.' He guided her hand to her breasts. 'In the past few days, I have seen more courage in you than any other man combined together. Your have the heart, the mind, I see the potential you have, lady mage. I see the roads of hardship and danger ahead of you, and the greatness they lead to.'

'Take it. And find yourself.' McCoy said firmly, and let go of her hand. 'Earn it.'

The ring felt cold in her hands, so alien, so... unfitting. Vrisiphiel opened her hand. The ring lay peacefully in her palm, its smooth surface reflecting age without the loss of its magnificence. Still, and unmoving, the ring laid. At last, she picked it up, and wore it.

'Thank you.' She bowed before the healer, 'thank you.'