Disclaimer--I do not own the forgotten realms setting, but I do own the characters used within the story. In other words, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THEM! I SWEAR I'LL SIT ON YOU!
AIDEN'S FLAME
A.N.--Sorry to disappoint y'all who thought this would be the fight, but I promise this is almost as entertaining as the attack!
Chapter 8
"Aiden, do you want to get us all killed?" Zenalic demanded, scowling at him with the two captains standing aside him. "What if the spell falls? It is unpredictable once applied to that many people!"
"And if it does, we shall still have the element of surprise on our side, and it will help us to no small extent," Aiden replied.
Zenalic sighed and nodded, conceding.
"Once in," Aiden continued, "we head back through the main entry into the stairwell," he gestured at the map, tracing his finger through the first floor into the staircase to the second, "then we go through to the third and so on. Our main target is here." He pointed to a room on the sixth floor. "This is where Zul is.
"After we kill him, we will make our escape any way possible. It is more than likely that we will be being followed, and may have an army awaiting our return through the stairwell. If we are truly lucky, Zen will teleport us out. If not, we fight our way out."
"Why would you be unable to teleport us?" asked Flamecaller.
"It is difficult to teleport when in the Underdark, and when possible, it requires a great deal of strength. If I exhaust my arcane energies in the battle, then the spell will simply be beyond me," she replied.
"Two of my best are wizards," Faridim stated. "Both will be there, and will allow you to reserve your strength."
"Good, but he is a necromancer of no small skill; it will exhaust a great deal of my strength when I battle him," Zenalic said.
"When you battle him?" intoned Faridim and Flamecaller as one. "You make it sound as though you intend to fight him alone!" Flamecaller exclaimed, laughing.
"I do indeed," she replied.
"You cannot stand against a drow wizard of his strength alone," Faridim said, his smile quickly fading.
"This is my battle," she said, still calmly, attempting to take a page from Aiden's book.
"No, you cannot do it, you will die!" Flamecaller stated.
"This is my battle," she repeated, letting some emotion slip into her voice.
Faridim started to say something again, but Aiden quickly caught his eye and shook his head. "If she wants to face him alone, she shall," he said. "However, if she should appear to be in danger, we will step in. But if we are fighting the drow, it is best she face him alone. Our hands will be more than tied."
The other two reluctantly nodded. "So be it."
Aiden stood in front of the desk, staring. It was not the desk itself that made him stare, rather what was laid upon it.
There lay a sheathed sword of beauty beyond even elven match, with a glowing amethyst in the hilt.
The sword had not tasted blood in a very long time. Since the day his father had died, the blade had never even been exposed. The sword was his father's and Aiden, who feared not the blades of a hundred drow or the full wrath of a dragon, feared it. He would hardly even touch the hilt, scared as he was.
He turned as he felt a hand on his back.
Zenalic stood behind him, smiling as greeting. I must have woken her, he guessed. It was very late, the sun having set hours ago and the moon reaching its zenith.
He smiled back at her, or tried to, for he found himself incapable of anything but shock as she pressed her lips and body to his.
They kissed continuously as they clung to each other, hands fumbling for buttons and garments quickly discarded. Even once they stood unclad, they did not end the kiss. Slowly they edged to the bed, where they lay nearly silent for over an hour. And still that silence remained for some time after they were finished, Aiden staring off into space and Zenalic falling into sleep.
Finally, Aiden stood and Zen stirred, turning to him. "I am sorry," he said. "But I must do this before dawn, and if I do not, we have no chance of succeeding in our raid. Be careful, and stay back." He walked over to the table as Zenalic sat up, covering herself with the bed sheets.
He picked up the sword, his left hand on the sheath and his right on the hilt of the sword. He drew it forth and oblivion rained into his body, pain raking every muscle in him.
He screamed. Or did he? Could he? His entire body seemed beyond his control. He had been rejected by the sword.
He knew that he would soon be dead, the price one paid for attempting to tame the blade and failing.
He cursed himself even through the pain, wishing he had had more time with his new lover. I will not give in! he screamed mentally to the blade. You will have to strike me dead before I will!
Lightning flew from the blade into the room, bolts narrowly missing Zenalic, who stood baffled. I will not! he repeated, as flames of purple emerged from the blade and rippled through him. The pain was unimaginable, and seemed to last forever.
Then, it all stopped, as suddenly as it had started. He opened his eyes. He was alive! The blade had deemed him worthy, and so he lived.
He turned and looked into the eyes of Zenalic, who stared, utterly bewildered.
He smiled at her as his eyes flashed with the purple fire that soon receded. "Do not worry, I shall explain all in time." He threw the sword aside, realizing that the scabbard had disappeared in the consecration, being replaced by the ring now on his right hand. The sword disappeared in a purple flash just before it hit the ground.
He took her into his arms, and their night began again.
A.N.--I had to add in a little romance, so I hope y'all like it, and I promise next chapter will be the fight! (if I get reviews!)