Author's note: Oh wow. Almost two months since my last update. How terrible guilty I feel. I rewrote the whole chapter because I couldn't find a flow when reading it. To be honest, I hated the entire chapter. So I sat down again and rewrote everything. Now I am pretty satisfied with how it turned out.
This chapter is a bit angsty, mainly because I think that's what you be like, when you are kind of resurrected. There is some more information on Chathi's past here and.. well… uhm… some kind of intimate moment between her and Valen.
At the moment I have two options regarding how the story ends. That's quite good, because before I rewrote this chapter I had no knowledge of where all of this would lead.
Enough babbling. I hope you like this chapter and forgive me for the lack of updates. Thank you all for reading this tale. I would like to thank Chrysanine, who reviewed every chapter until now. Thank you so very much.

Chapter 7: Ordinary Pain

"This will be our shelter for tonight, my dearest companions. I truly hope you don't mind the cold surface of the stone and the hardness it provides. Forgive me if I have to tell you that the only food I can offer you for tonight's meal is dried meat and even drier bread. But you might find it quite suitable if you consider that the only other option available to you is raw meat fresh from the harpy. It would be a great honour to take the first watch this night. If it even is night. I lost track of time some days ago and I hope you don't mind. And now, I would be quite happy if you just leave me alone, thank you for your attention."

She bowed deeply, mocking Nathyrra and Valen equally. While speaking, she never looked at them, only prepared a small fire and the frying pan, throwing some meat into it and poking at it with a blackened stick.

Valen gave Nathyrra a look that told the black elf that he felt most uneasy in the presence of the sarcastic tiefling ranger that came back to life in a miracle they still don't understand. Since the blood began to flow through her veins and her lungs filled with air again, Chathi avoided them whenever it was possible. She spoke only on rare occasions and when there was grave need of it. Most of the time she stayed in the shadows, looking for tracks or just keeping to herself. The only company she accepted was that of her leopard companion Fah, although she seemed to be bothered by it.

Nathyrra replied Valen's look with a shrug, not knowing what to do or what to say. She examined Chathi, who continued her poking at the meat until she seemed satisfied with it. Whatever that meant, considering that Nathyrra got the feeling Chathi didn't really care.

The young tiefling took two strips of meat out of the pan, turned around and walked away, leaving the rest of the foot to Valen and Nathyrra. It became a disturbing routine to the three of them. Nathyrra watched Valen reaching out for the meat, taking a bite from one strip and crunching up his face in disgust.

"She didn't season it, did she?"

Valen just nodded. "I have eaten very bad things before, but nothing tasted worse than this."

Nathyrra didn't reply.

------------------------------------------------------------

Three days ago Chathi returned to the Material Plane. Even though Valen and Nathyrra showed her that she was with friends, or companions, at least, the ranger treated them with obvious distrust and mostly kept to herself.

When they spoke with the Seer, the usual compassion in Chathi's voice was completely gone. Valen gave the priestess a brief report of what had happened in Shaori's Fell while the female tiefling only stood at his side with her fists clenched. Her face was blank, emotionless and paler than usual. Every time the Seer addressed her directly she replied in short and abrupt sentences without looking up.

Her eyes stared into nothingness. Her voice sounded like it came from nothingness. Her whole presence felt like… like nothing.

At night, the Seer tried to talk to Chathi, but she was nowhere to be found. Her room was empty, untouched. Valen sat in his own chamber, pondering what had happened to the woman. He even considered that she tried returning to the surface. At one point he thought her dead again, killed by the geas, but he dismissed it quickly.

The next morning Chathi returned to the temple, announced that their next destination would be the source of the Undead. Then she disappeared again. Valen and Nathyrra finally found her at the gates of Lith My'athar, ready for whatever might come.

---------------------------------------------------------

The sound of metal clattering to the floor forced Valen to open his eyes. For a moment he felt so very disoriented, he turned his head several times before he found the source of the sound. At the edge of the stony platform they chose for their rest he saw Chathi, sitting there with her back towards them, her legs dangling over the edge. The clatter sounded again and after the third time, he spotted what she was doing: Her khopesh, Father's Death, resting loosely in her right hand, was banged on the ground by her several times. She banged it down, the intervals between the clatter becoming shorter and soon they rang rhythmically through the cavern.

She will draw the attention of every being on us with her stupidity, Valen thought to himself. He considered interrupting her from her actions, but then, suddenly, she jumped to her feet, took some steps backwards and with a low growl she sprinted towards the edge, drew back her khopesh and threw it far away, gradually loosing her strength and finally collapsing to the ground, banging her fist against the cold and solid stone.

Valen found himself stricken. Whatever had happened to her in death, it sure let its marks on her. His thoughts wandered back to his own past and the many times he wished he just could die. But how would death be like, if those coming back from it suffer so badly?

Chathi's banging stopped and she went completely silent. Valen strained to listen for some moments, then he let out a small sigh and laid back down on his bedroll.

---------------------------------------------

Chathi pulled the string of her bow. The arrow appeared magically between her fingers and she took aim. The beholder in front of her was focused on Valen and his mighty flail, so she had all opportunities for a perfect hit. Finally, she was able to do something useful. Since she had thrown away her khopesh she was relying on her longbow. But during the fight against the beholders and the huge eye tyrant she felt quite out of place. Valen, Nathyrra and Fah did the whole work. Valen, who continually fought through the masses of abominations, thrashing at them with his flail, falling into a wild frenzy that still proved quite useful. Nathyrra, hauling spell after spell at the creatures while dodging their magic in response, even managed to stab at one or the other with her daggers. Fah, the great majestic cat, did her own magic with her claws and teeth, darting from beholder to beholder like a furry arrow.

And she herself, she stood in the entry to the cave of the eye tyrant, her longbow ready but unsure where to start, what to shoot. She was so terrible unconcentrated she didn't engage in the battle until now.

But in front of her was this beholder, its guards let down towards her, fighting Valen. Her bow quivered a bit and she put it down a little, shutting her eyes for a moment before she took aim once again. She felt her knees buckling slightly and she almost cursed herself loudly for being so weak. But she only let the bow sink down again, wiping the sweat from her brows with her right forearm.

The beholder crashed down to the ground with a sickening thud and Valen appeared behind it, the grip on the handle of his heavy flail tight and sure of himself. He stared at Chathi, puzzled and confused because she stood there motionless.

"Over here!" They suddenly heard Nathyrra yell and both of them turned around, finding the black elf pushed to the wall by a wounded beholder. She had no way of escape and it seemed like her spells ran out some time ago. Her hands were empty, the daggers gone. The drow clearly had no chance.

Valen scanned the scene with his eyes. Chathi stood between him and Nathyrra, he wouldn't be there in time. He only saw one possibility to save the assassin.

"Chathi!" he screamed at the ranger, motioning frantically towards Nathyrra. "Shoot it!"

Chathi looked at him with blank eyes, not understanding.

"The beholder!" Valen screamed again. "Shoot it!"

She hesitated a second, but then she spun around, readied her bow and pulled the string.

At this point, the abomination shot one of its magic rays at the dark elf. It was unclear which kind of magic it was, but Valen hoped it wasn't deadly. Nathyrra remained motionless at the wall, her eyes wide she was stunned.

A roar ringed through the cave and with brutal force crashed Fah against the elf, pushing her away from the magic ray, pinning her to the ground.

Exactly at that moment Chathi released the string and the enchanted arrow sped towards the beholder, hitting it and exploding into a shower of light, paralyzing it for an instant.

Valen used this newly gained chance to race to the creature and killed it with two mighty blows.

Nathyrra was saved.

-------------------------------------------------

"What in the nine hells is wrong with you!" He slammed her roughly against the wall and held her there with one hand on her chest, the fabric of her torn armour gripped tightly. "All the time you fought as if your life depends on it. But now…" he gesticulated with his other hand, obviously searching for the right words, "…now you don't even fight! First you throw away your precious blade," at these words, Chathi flinched heavily, but remained silent nonetheless, "then you plod behind us while you should lead us and when it comes to a fight where Nathyrra," he motioned towards the black elf standing some metres away from the scene, "needs all the help she can get you behave like a mindless clay golem! What is wrong with you, damn it!"

Chathi didn't look at him, her breathing was flat and she visibly relied on Valen's hand holding her in place. No words escaped her, not even one single sound. It almost seemed as if she ignored him completely.

"Fine," the weapon master growled, narrowing his clear blue eyes to slits, "have it your way then." And he released her from his grip. Without the support, Chathi slid down the wall and landed on her knees.

Valen threw a last look her way.

They left the caves of the beholders half an hour ago with Nathyrra asking for a short rest to collect herself, but Valen ordered a proper rest, explaining that Nathyrra should prepare her spells anew.

In reality, he hoped to get a word with the emotionless ranger that became such a heavy burden to him. The way she acted these times she wasn't useful neither to them nor to the whole cause. The opposite was the fact. She endangered the mission itself.

From the corner of his eyes he watched Chathi. She was gnawing at her knuckles with her eyes closed. Her enchanted longbow lay at her side, thrown carelessly to the ground after they had left the cave. Fah lay at her other side, the huge feline head rested on her paws.

The tiefling female seemed so out of place it almost broke his heart. He had never felt much sympathy for the woman but everything had changed since that awful moment in Shaori's Fell.

Somehow he got the feeling that he needed to take care of the confused Chathi. He had to talk to her. As soon as possible.

-----------------------------------------------

Later that day Valen decided to slowly approach Chathi who sat far away from their camp, brooding. Nathyrra slept quietly with Fah next to her. Even the leopard didn't feel comfortable in the presence of her master anymore.

Valen shook his head and moved towards the ranger. He slid down the wall with his back and sat down, his left arm grazing Chathi's right shoulder.

She flinched away from him.

For minutes, neither of them spoke. Valen considered his words carefully but didn't know where to start.

"You said you don't want to die alone." He slowly started to speak. "There was a time when I wished every day to die. It didn't matter if I would die alone or in company. Just embracing death. That was the only thing I longed for."

Next to him he heard Chathi hiss sharply. At least, some kind of reaction. Everything was better than her usual apathy.

"But now, I have to say that I fear death. And I agree with you on that matter. I, too, do not want to die alone. But I never realized it, until that moment."

Silence engulfed them again.

"I have never felt so dead like now." Chathi suddenly whispered into the darkness. It caught Valen by surprise and he jerked his head to the left and brushed her with his gaze. She didn't mind and continued. "Even when I was another soul on the Fugue Plane, I still felt alive. I didn't care, yes, but I felt alive." Her hands searched for something in her pockets and pouches and finally she produced some alien looking device from one of them. "The Reaper gave me this," she held it up, but no light caught the surface of that thing and its coolness gave them nothing to see, "it made me alive again, but it made things only worse." The device rolled out of her hand and hit the ground, rolling away a bit.

Chathi raised her arms and stretched a bit, yawning and purring like a cat. Then she laid her head on Valen's shoulder and relaxed.

For an instant Valen was tempted to stand up, surprised by her actions. But he stayed nonetheless, waiting for what would happen next.

"I told you that I killed my father, didn't I?"

Valen nodded. "Your stepmother as well, I recalled."

"Yes. You're right. You are a good listener, my half-breed."

He ignored her choice of words for the time being.

"I had a half-sister. Her name was Sari Fezim. She was the child of my father and my stepmother. Unlike me, she was fully human. Until she was born, my father accepted me as his own child, even protecting me from his wife who hated me for what I was." Chathi paused for a moment and followed the movements of an insect that rushed by. The red of its heat was glowing strongly in the darkness around it. The cavern was perfectly dark and Chathi had to admit that it disturbed her. But for the moment, she pushed these thoughts away.

"It is quite common to slay tieflings right after their birth, if they have obvious marks of their infernal heritage." She gazed at him for an instant. "Or of their abyssal heritage, if that would be the case."

He gave her a small smile because she regarded him as well, but she already looked away.

"But my father was a lawful man. He knew that I was his child and that he had to take care of me. If I had horns and red eyes, it was part his fault. He dealt with the devils, not I. So he took me with him when my mother gave me to him. He gave me a home and everything an average child in Mulhorand gets. Proper education. Even though he was just a soldier he granted me a year of arcane schooling. And all the time he protected me from his wife. I still do not know why he stayed with her. Or she with him, for that matter."

Chathi moved her head slightly, causing some of her hairs to tickle Valen's neck. He flinched a little but she didn't move again. She found a perfect spot in the slope between his shoulder and his neck where her head fitted perfectly in.

For the first time since her death she felt slightly comfortable.

Valen felt her relaxing even more and he decided to leave it at that.

"When I was ten years old, my stepmother finally gave birth to a child. That was the beginning of everything."

Her hands patted her knees quietly, in a weird rhythm Valen didn't hear.

"You need to know, the only reason I could stay with my father was, that my stepmother believed she couldn't give birth to anything at all. She coped with me because she feared she would never get a child of her own. Why she decided to have an infernal one that she even didn't like, well, that is a secret she took to death with her."

His shoulder shifted a bit when he took his gloves and bracers off his hands and arms, but Chathi didn't mind. Her head stayed where it was. Not that it mattered anymore to him.

"Well, when Sari was born, I found myself neglected. Not even my father cared for me from this point on. His only sorrow was Sari, sweet little Sari. He wanted her to become a cleric of Anhur, his god. The greatest honour for every house. A cleric in the family. Even though I had met every requirement to become a cleric myself he never spoke of it. When he talked about taking Sari to the temple and showing her to the clerics there, I couldn't believe what happened. She was only two! Can you believe it! She was two years old when he decided that she would become a cleric!"

The emotion of her voice felt good in Valen's ears and he was glad that she wasn't so lifeless anymore. It felt weird, being glad of Chathi being angered, but, well, the whole situation itself was pretty weird.

He nodded quietly.

"I couldn't take it anymore. At night, I went downstairs and took the khopesh from my father's gear. I felt betrayed, unloved, yes, even hated. So I sneaked into their bedroom and slashed their throats. The khopesh was too heavy and too large for me and it happened to be quite difficult to aim properly with it. My father got the cleanest cut I could manage, but my stepmother got some in her face as well. I guess she deserved it."

She shrugged nonchalantly and again he felt the tickle of her hair on his skin. For a second he mused that this was probably the most intimate moment he got with the other tiefling.

"This night, I spared little Sari. I was sure that she wouldn't survive anyway. So I took the khopesh with me and ran. It was night, I was still a child by then and I knew I wouldn't live long in Skuld. With the blade in my hands I wandered through the streets until I reached the temple of Anhur. The broken spirit I was, I entered it, asking for help."

Again, she paused, gulping audibly. Valen almost knew what would come next.

"They only saw the fiend in me and chased me away. They even threatened to slay me, so I fled. To the next temple. The temple of Horus-Re, the god-king of the Mulhorandi deities. Again, I was chased away. Do not ask me why, but I did not give up and went to every other temple, until I stumbled up the stairs to the temple of Set. They welcomed me. They saw potential in me. They taught me to use the khopesh. And they gave me a new home. And a new hope. But…"

Her voice broke away and she turned her head, burying her face into his neck. He felt slightly uncomfortable but didn't dare to move.

"…they, as well, saw only the fiend in me. And how they could use my power, my heritage. An evil tiefling was the perfect servant for an evil god." Her voice was small, barely a whisper. "All my life people treated me the way they treated me because I was a tiefling. There were even moments when I considered breaking these horns off of my head."

She went silent, pressing herself against his side. All the time he had listened carefully but now he felt thrown back into his own past. Though he despised his abyssal heritage he never even considered breaking his horns off of his head or cutting off his tail. Yes, he wanted to get rid of his powers and his abyssal part, but never of physical traits. He grew up in Sigil, a bustling city full of beings like him. It never really mattered. But it must have been completely different in a society where people are used to the sights of tieflings, but either consider them as something to chase away or as something to use for their own benefit.

He shifted a little and brought his left arm behind Chathi, putting his hand on her side and pulling her closer.

Her arms went around his waist and she pressed herself even tighter at him, not minding the cold metal of his armour. He almost wished that he had taken the breastplate off before he allowed them the rest.

"All the time…" he heard a timid voice from his side, "… I thought Sari dead. I was so sure she died because of hunger or that some filthy thief put an end to her life. But I was so wrong."

He caressed her side carefully with his hand in a vain attempt to calm her down.

"On the Fugue Plane, I met my mother. She told me that Sari was alive. The devils used the guilt I felt because of Sari against me. All the time I thought she was dead. And I felt guilty because of that. Because I never gave her a chance. But what now?"

She looked up at him with great red eyes he could barely see. But he felt the sorrow in them.

"What happens now that I know she's alive?" She croaked, resting her forehead against his breastplate. "The guilt only grew stronger and I have the feeling I gave my life for hers. It feels, as if I had to die so that she can continue living."

He slowly brought his other hand up and placed it on her neck, rubbing it slowly.

"That's why you feel dead?" He whispered.

Chathi only nodded.

Then she stopped talking. She allowed herself a rest in his strong arms, allowed him to rub her neck and caress her side. And he allowed her to invade his private space.

For the first time in days Chathi finally found sleep.