The Black Ankh
Duel of Fates, Cont'd
by Laura Campbell, aka Shadow of Light Dragon

Memories not my own assailed my senses. It was like two great seas crashing together, merging into a greater entity that, while being neither, comprised both. I drowned in the knowledge of what my double had done, horrified at the truth of her deeds. The death and blood dished out by her hand made me want to rip free of this joining of souls, deny everything. It was too much. How could I retain my own identity if I had hers layered over it?

"But this is who you are, who you really are… when all pretences of 'virtue' are stripped away. Do you think your friends will ever look at you the same way again, knowing that I lurk beneath the surface? Behind that flimsy mask of morality is the face of a killer. Behind that façade of virtue is me."

The flood of atrocities battered me, bearing me down into the depths. The more I struggled against them, the deeper I was pulled. My lungs screamed for air even as my mind strove to retain some sense of self…

"Well, now it's your turn. I'm not going to lock you down in the dark for good… no. That would risk you surfacing again. I'm going to tear you apart. I was here first, you see. Virtue… morals… these things you learned and chose to cling to as you grew older… I have no use for them. I never did. This life is mine now."

Pain. Hate. Power and isolation.

"That is the life you want?" I blurted, aghast. "That?"

"It is preferable to nothing!"

I amassed the memories I knew belonged to me. As I did, I could feel them swirl about me and slow my descent into the abyss.

"Is it preferable to this?"

I let my side of the flood loose, smashing it into her consciousness as hers had struck mine. Memories flashed past. Shining, cherished memories. Things that had made me smile. Things that had made me laugh. Happiness and joy and friendship, comfort and love and camaraderie... everything that made me think that life, with all its hardships and trials, was worth it in the end.

With each recollection I felt myself buoyed up…

"You will destroy me, then?"

I could, I realised with a start. Just as she had said she'd destroy me, I knew I could do the same to her. I could do away with Mellorin, and every aspect of her that infected me. Every shadow, every shard, every evil.

"The Quest of the Avatar, Elora. You could finally finish walking that path. What's the point of this journey if it never ends? Admiring the scenery while never reaching the ultimate destination?"

"Why does it sound like you're encouraging me to end you?"

"I'm curious. You are supposed to be Britannia's example of Virtue… and here you are, with the power to achieve the perfection that is the Avatar's goal. If you refuse to destroy me, you're a sham."

I floated just under the surface of the waters. Above, filtering through the waves in broken patches, warm golden light shone. My very soul yearned towards that light.

"There are ways… and ways to destroy you, Mellorin. This way is magic. It's no different to what the dragons of Atarka tried to achieve. There's no effort to it. To defeat you this way would make me undeserving of the goal. It would undermine the whole point of the—"

Bitter, mocking laughter interrupted me. "No effort!"

Memories were thrown in my face, ones we both shared. Struggle, pain, sorrow, in a wave that near swept me away with its force.

"Undeserving!" Fury seethed in her voice. "We endure all this and more… don't we deserve something? But no! There is no rest. There never is! There is always more of the same, and additional bruises to bear. The Quest of the Avatar is Forever, but don't you ever want it to end? Don't you ever yearn for release? For rest? Or are you seriously willing to do this your entire life, without reward or respite?

"This is the life you want?"

I almost did it. Caught between the cold, dark swell below and the warm, inviting light above, I almost broke the surface and destroyed that other life.

"No," I said at last. "I don't want to live this way forever. I do want it to end. There are times I want it to end so badly I can taste it. But… it will not end like this. It will not end here."

I turned my back on the light dancing across the surface of the waves, not without regret, and plunged down.

"…what are you looking for?"

"Myself…"


It was dark. And my chest hurt.

I stirred feebly, reaching to feel how bad it was. There were bandages wrapped tight around my midsection. Cracking an eye open, I tried to work out where I was from the unadorned stone ceiling and walls. A pair of candles guttered on a rough table and there were no windows. The bedroll I was stretched out on was lumpy and the blanket, though warm, was coarse.

I almost jumped out of my skin when Shamino bent over me.

"Sorry," he said, subsiding onto a stool with a faint smile. "It's about time thou woke up."

In a flash, I remembered everything. I remembered finding him at the Bee Cave near Yew, sending the Emps into a deep sleep, transporting him to a prison on another plane… I remembered…

a daemon walked into the cell, its burning eyes resting on Shamino with something like hunger and contempt. I quirked a brow as the ranger pulled hard at his chains. His efforts served only to further cut into his own wrists, which renewed their sluggish leaking of blood.

"Is torture what thou hast in mind?" he demanded. Even in anger his voice was quiet, I noted.

"Torture?" I shook my head. "Shamino, if torture was what I had in mind, I'd have done it myself. And with great enjoyment, I might add." I motioned to the daemon, which grinned, stepped forward and sank one of its claws deep into the ranger's chest while he arched back against his bonds and screamed—

I jumped violently, half-rising as I tried to shake my head clear. A shudder of loathing shook me from head to toes.

Not me. Her. Not me…

Cautiously, I tried to see if he was the real Shamino or a daemon. It was only when I noticed the hammering of my own heart that I realised why it wasn't working, and by that time he'd gone to the door and called something down the corridor.

"Don't sit up," he warned, coming back swiftly. "Jaana will get angry. She wouldn't even let thee be taken off the Isle of the Avatar."

I lay back slowly, still trying to think of something to say. All the appropriate questions, like "Where am I?" and "What happened?" felt much too obvious.

"Is… is everyone all right?" I asked.

Shamino hesitated before answering. "Of our friends… all will live, now that we know thou'rt recovering. But with the war… there will be casualties."

"And you? You were rescued, obviously?"

The look this comment earned me was strangely measuring. "That odd woman… Kra'lysie? She and Dupre used that bracer thing to reach me and bring me back."

I reached automatically for my wrist, then looked at both of them in astonishment to confirm it. The aeth'raesh'al had been removed, but bandages swathed my right wrist.

"Lord British died on his knees, you know," I said, watching Iolo's jaw tighten. "I always thought he'd take it standing, like a man, instead of some cowardly—"

The crossbow's string slammed back and I cried out as the bolt speared all the way through my right wrist, the point sinking into the earth beneath. I reached automatically for the wound with my left hand, but Iolo grabbed it, pushed it down and held it there with one booted foot.

"Virtues," I gasped, when I could form a coherent thought through the pain. I laughed then, looking up at Iolo through tears of pain. "I never thought you'd have the balls to do something like that, Iolo. Always the compassionate one. The merciful. Where's that mercy now, Iolo?"

"Dupre says she bullied Arcadion into telling her where I was." Shamino went on, snapping me back to the present. I grasped at his words like they were an anchor to reality. To identity.

"Kra'lysie's all right, then?" I said, relieved. The last thing I remembered of her was…

a crunch as my sword hilt connected with her skull—

"Art thou?" Shamino asked, frowning as I put a hand to my brow and growled softly. Any answer I might have given went unsaid as the door opened and Jaana entered with Iolo. Jaana immediately checked my wounds and asked a few questions, while Iolo exchanged one of those 'long silent looks' with Shamino.

"Thou shouldst sleep," Jaana said after finishing her checkup. "It's the best way to heal, after all."

"I'll sleep after someone tells me everything I missed," I retorted snippily. "You're all starting to treat me like you did when I first became undead, so let's get that over with right now." I paused, remembering that neither Shamino nor Jaana had been with me at that point, then shook my head and continued: "Do I have to do anything to prove I'm not Mellorin?"

"Thou… uh… dost not have to prove anything, Elora," Iolo said. "Kra'lysie said she could tell the truth of who thou wert by looking at thee."

"Oh. Good." I scowled at him. "So why were you and Shamino looking at each other like that?"

Both men shifted uncomfortably. "Like what?"

"Like… like that! You know…" I eyed them in turn.

Iolo looked embarrassed. "It's… Dupre. And… uh… Kra'lysie."

"Oh?" I blinked as Jaana coughed delicately. "Oh! Well. Right! How about we… leave that bit out for now, and you tell me what else has been going on."

Iolo scratched his beard. "Thou wilt forgive me if I haven't put all this to song yet. Things have been rather busy. The Atarkan forces, for the most part, have been returned home. Those on the Isle of the Avatar, lacking the daemons' leadership, surrendered and begged quarter. With Geoffrey and Lord Draxinusom commanding the Britannian forces, the outworlders fighting by their sides and Kra'lysie using the teleportive magics of the aeth'raesh'al, each remaining force of Atarkans hath been confronted. Some surrendered, especially in the face of the dragons helping us, and some tried to stand their ground but didn't last long.

"It's only since today that the allied outworlders have begun to be transported to their respective homes. We started with the enemy soldiers, and ran into trouble right from the start. Not with them, but with those nomads. The mezzini. They wanted to just kill them all. Some of them, especially Jae'tar, have very large grudges. Fortunately, those telepathic cats have been helpful in keeping everyone in line.

"There hath been surprisingly little antagonism between the goblins and humans of Tarna. I think fighting on the same side hath given them something to think about. Oh, and Nystul was speaking to Bishop and Prince Felix about their little blackrock problem? Dost thou think the Horn of Praecor Loth and Mors Gotha's spellbook might help them?"

I blinked. "It's possible. I had to go through quite a bit in order to make sure the Horn would make a big enough noise though… and that's just where Castle Britannia is concerned. Who knows how loud it'd have to be for the entire world?"

"Still, it'd be worth a try, wouldn't it?" Iolo asked, and I nodded emphatically.

"Lord British, though he's still recovering from his own ordeal, is being kept busy speaking with those who want to make Britannia their new home. He wanted to stay here and help tend all the wounded with Jaana and our other healers, but Jaana forbade him to exert himself any more than necessary, and thou knowest what she can be like. Not even our liege will cross her when she's in one… of her… er…" The bard trailed off as Jaana smiled serenely in his direction. "Aye," he went on, clearing his throat. "What else?

"The daemon portal at the Shrine of Humility hath been sealed, and reports tell that the undead forces around Stonegate have dispersed." He glanced at Shamino, who shrugged.

"Thou knowest more of what's going on than I do," the ranger said quietly.

The bard leaned against the wall and frowned thoughtfully. "We have… the other body close to hand," he said at length. "Next room over, actually. The body thou wert a liche in. Kra'lysie said we could burn it, but we didn't want to chance something going wrong and… well, we just weren't sure whether thou wouldst still be…"

I inspected my hands, reached up to feel the familiar heavy length of my hair… Alive. I put a hand to my throat, but couldn't feel the Ankh amulet there.

"They're on the table," Iolo said, nodding to where the candles glowed.

"They?" I sat up, ignoring Jaana's exasperated sound, and saw both a gold Ankh and a black one. I picked up the first without hesitation, fastened it around my neck and quickly lowered my head to the pillow before Jaana's withering glare could bore hole into my face. The amulet was cold against my skin at first, but warmed quickly.

"What about the other one?" Shamino asked.

"It means something, doesn't it," I said, examining the amulet. "I'm a… copy. I get that. A 'dark' copy. But why would that affect a necklace?"

"Have you never suspected that your Ankh is more than just a necklace, Master?" Arcadion asked.

"Who cares? It's an Ankh. I'm not the Avatar, no matter what he might think. He just doesn't get it!"

"You're quick enough to claim you're the Avatar to Elora's face."

I snorted. "That's just to keep her off balance. I'm not the Avatar. I'm just the reason she exists." I held up the Black Ankh between my thumb and forefinger. "The darkness beneath the shining veneer of Virtue. Maybe this is what you get when you scratch off all that gold leaf…"

"Leave it for now," I said, aware of the silent stares. "Half of me wants to get rid of it, but perhaps I should keep it. As a reminder."

"I'd just as soon forget," Iolo muttered, his face darkening.

Silently, I echoed his words. Aloud, I asked, "What about the Crown of the Liche King? The Lifestealer?"

"The crown Lord British is taking care of," Iolo said. "I'm not sure what he intendeth to do with it, but I wouldn't be upset if he had it melted down and turned into horseshoes. Kra'lysie gave the Lifestealer to Jae'tar and said she was returning it to the protection of their people."

"It sounds like everything's been taken care of," I said, wrapping myself more comfortably in the blanket. I was starting to feel warm and sleepy.

Jaana smiled. "I half expected I'd have to tie thee down, Elora. So much is still happening, but thou'rt going to just let things be taken care of without thee?"

"I think I deserve some rest," I said, grinning back. "With your approval, druidess?"

"A rest soundeth good," Iolo declared, glancing back briefly as the door opened to admit Julia, Katrina and Mariah. "Perhaps even a holiday."

"Unless that holiday doth include a long ocean voyage, I wouldn't count on it," Julia said. The serious tone of her voice got everyone's attention. "Glad to see thou'rt awake," she said first, to me. Then, apologetically, she added, "Katrina and I were helping Mariah to explore the caverns here. We found these."

I levered myself up with one elbow and took the proffered document. The others crowded around as I unrolled it and spread it across the blanket. It revealed a navigational map.

"A sea chart," I said slowly. "Peering closer, I read the runes near the bottom aloud: "'To the Serpent Isles'. All right." I glanced up at Julia. "This is cause for the grim face?"

"It was in a room full of things belonging to Batlin," Mariah put in. "Along with this." She held out a much smaller scroll. The edges of this ones glowed with a faint, magical aura. "It's safe," she added when I hesitated. To Iolo, the mage said, "Thou… wilt want to see this too, Iolo."

I took it, glancing once at Iolo's worried face. His wife Gwenno had been on an expedition to the Serpent Isles. She'd departed over a year ago now. A single pull untied the ribbon which bound the scroll. At once, the glowing parchment lifted into the air, writhing as though caught in a strong wind. Red light filled the small room and the Guardian's voice sounded from the walls themselves…

"Batlin: In the unlikely event that the Avatar stops me from coming through the Black Gate, I command you to follow the unwitting human female Gwenno to the Serpent Isles. There I shall outline my plan to destroy Britannia."


I drifted in and out of sleep for the next few hours. My dreams were uncomfortably vivid, and I often woke without being able to tell whether the things I'd seen had been actual memories or nothing more than nightmares. I was too tired and sore to try and make sense of them, and half of me didn't want to look more deeply into Mellorin's version of events than I had too. Even so, when I took the time to think back, her memories overlapped mine and were impossible to ignore completely. It was like trying to look out at the world through a pane of tinted glass. Perhaps even two panes… each a different colour.

I gave up after a while and got up. The only clothes in the room, besides the cotton shift I was wearing now, were the leather trousers and boots Mellorin had been wearing. There was no shirt.

I tugged each on in turn, gritting my teeth as the effort pulled at my wounds. I tucked the shift into my trousers, hoping the effect didn't look too out of place. With luck I wouldn't run into anyone… But then, I didn't intend to go far. I had to put some daemons to rest before leaving with Iolo and Shamino to take Batlin's message to Lord British.

In the next room, like I'd been told, was the body I'd inhabited as a liche. It was the first time I'd actually seen it in full, and it wasn't a pretty sight. I leaned against the closed door and just stared at the wasted shell for what felt like an age. The corpse was a withered husk, an unwholesome grey colour, and bore many rips and tears in its dead flesh.

"Not very attractive, is it?" Kra'lysie's voice came from the corner, and I jumped.

"Will people stop doing that?" I demanded, trying to calm my racing heart.

The dragon-woman smirked. "You're too used to being able to see in every direction and sense the presence of others, Avatar. You'll have to reaccustom yourself to being merely human again."

"It's over, then," I said, staring down at the body. "Somehow I thought there'd be more to it." I chuckled a bit. "Even now, I half expect… her… to jump up and try to strangle me, or blast me across the room."

"I could blast you across the room if it'd make you feel better."

"Thanks," I said dryly, "but it wouldn't be the same. What are you doing in here, anyway?"

She tilted her head. "Those were some interesting dreams you were having. This was the closest place I could listen in without looking obvious about it." She came closer. "So. What did Arcadion accomplish? You're not Mellorin, but I never saw what Elora looked like before she became undead. Who are you?"

I opened my mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I'm either Elora with Mellorin's memories, or Mellorin with Elora's."

"Hm." Golden eyes studied me. "That answers my first question, but not the second."

"I thought it answered both."

She snorted. "Oh please. Not another identity crisis."

"I'm Elora," I interrupted, before she could make some uncomplimentary remark on my psyche. "I know I am. But sometimes it just gets confusing. I remember doing things that I didn't do, but it feels like I did. I remember feeling pleasure in some of those acts, and that pleasure sickens me on a scale I can't describe."

"Definitely Elora," Kra'lysie murmured. "Perhaps it will pass. Did you ask Arcadion? It was his idea, wasn't it?"

"It was. And I haven't. Yet." I considered the dragon-woman's suggestion. "Maybe it will pass. Memories fade, right? So in time…" I bit back a sigh.

Kra'lysie shrugged. "I understand you may be accompanying the bard and the ranger to these Serpent Isles in search of the former male's mate. Will the knight be going with you?"

"I haven't asked him, but I expect so. Iolo's his friend. And I doubt he'd pass up the chance to hunt Batlin down." Shamino, in fact, had been more emphatic about coming than I could imagine Dupre being. Shamino had said it was because he'd missed out on this adventure, as well as the whole Labyrinth of Worlds ordeal. I had a feeling there was something more to it, though.

"You should encourage him to go with you," Kra'lysie said.

"What? But I thought you and he… were…"

"Yes?"

I floundered. "Getting to know each other?" I suggested lamely.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," she said. "He'll want to go with you, and he should. I have to stay here for a time and finish helping everyone get back home, then return to Atarka. The tril'khai think the mezzini will do something rash now that the Guardian's armies are in disarray. They might even try to attack the capital now that Killorn Keep's fallen."

I blinked. "What? When did this happen?"

"Before we took them off Atarka, apparently. But I thought Altara said you would—Avatar?"

"I will not serve you!" I shouted. My voice reverberated from the super-heated stone walls. Sweat plastered my shirt to my skin. "I don't care what you want! I'm not Mors Gotha. I'm not your war leader and I'm not your Avatar!"

It matters not what you are, only who you belong to.

The Black Sword came free of its scabbard. "You even try and touch my mind and I swear I'll bring your little tower cr—"

I ripped myself free of the memory of pain. Kra'lysie was staring at me, but her expression told me she'd seen everything.

"Mellorin did it," I said quietly.

"Even though you possess her memories, it's clear you haven't looked at them all. Aren't you curious?"

"If you'd had an evil twin, would you want to look at everything she'd been up to? Relive it as though the experience was your own?"

"All right, all right. I was just asking." Kra'lysie shrugged, then gestured at the corpse on the floor. "What were you intending to do with that?"

"I believe you suggested setting it on fire. I was going to get Arcadion to do that, but since you're here… would you mind?"

Kra'lysie smiled. "Not at all."

The dragon-woman muttered an incantation and the body was immediately alight. We made a quick exit from the room before the smoke started to swirl, and when the door was shut a second incantation filled the doorway with stone. Kra'lysie ran one hand over it.

"That should stop the smoke from leaking out. And there should be enough air in there for the fire to do its job."

I nodded, and we stood in the cold tunnel for a while in silence. I had the feeling that once we parted here, it would be goodbye for a time. She had her tasks to accomplish—tasks she appeared to be taking seriously, and I had mine. Despite her sometimes caustic nature, I knew I'd miss her.

"Thanks," I said. "For everything, Kra'lysie. We couldn't have won without your help." Holding out my hand awkwardly, I added, "I owe you. Anything, anytime. Unless… I'm saving the world, or something."

"Aren't you always?" But she shook my hand anyway. "We're even, Avatar. If not for you, I'd be wallowing in self-pity back on Ambrosia. All this would have happened without me." She shrugged a shoulder. "Armageddon might have happened, and I'd have been dead without even knowing the why of it." Her next words seemed to come with more difficulty: "Thank you."

I noticed a glittering on her wrist as we released hands and asked, "Will you destroy it?"

"The aeth'raesh'al? The main portion of its power has been destroyed. The looping forces of the Lifestealer, the Shade Blade and the Crown of the Liche King basically fed it more power than it could handle. It's just a teleportive device now, and that kind of thing is always useful."

"More useful than a teleporting island, hrm?"

She grinned and nodded. I didn't argue with her right to keep the bracer. Even though I saw the use in it myself, and the ability to travel not only within Britannia but across planes opened entirely new realms of possibility, the bracer had been made by her people.

Plus, despite her assurance, I wasn't too keen to lock the thing around my arm a second time.

"I guess we'll see each other again," I said, before the silence could draw out any longer.

"We will," she confirmed. "Until then, Avatar." Abruptly, she turned and walked away up the passage in a swirl of crimson robes.

I watched her retreating back for a second, then likewise turned to get back to my room. Before I'd taken a step, though, Kra'lysie's voice called down the passage.

"Avatar! One more thing. I understand you intend to free Arcadion one day?"

I looked back at her. "Yeah?"

"You may think that a promise is something to keep, even when made to a daemon, but I just wanted to remind you of something. Arcadion's connection with Life magic will not have ended once you stopped wearing the Crown of the Liche King. Remember that before you ever think of releasing him. You may have trusted him with your life, but do you trust him with everyone else's?"

A lifting of her golden brows, and she had vanished around a corner.