Author's Note: ah…. Yeah, updating this year has not been my forte… Thanks to those of you reading and/or reviewing the rewritten chapters! Chapter Four and more to come!

Kaia Moonchild

Neverwinter Academy…

"…And this is where those of our martial minded students train," Aribeth stopped at the entrance and gestured to the open hall, heart bursting with pride for her hardworking students as they paused in their exercises to salute her and her esteemed guest.

"You have a great set up here, Milady Aribeth," Kaerion Galadorn said politely, watching with an appreciative eye as two half-elves–one as dark as the other was fair—sparred with each other with live weapons, sword and staff clashing together with quick, efficient strokes. "Do all of your students have skills like those two?"

"Shade and Saria are two of our most competent students," Aribeth replied, leading Kaerion along the edge of the room so they wouldn't disrupt the atmosphere excessively. "But, most of the rest--besides our newest members, of course—are equally able, if of lesser skill."

"I see," the paladin of Lathander plodded along behind her like a golem in his heavy plate mail, greatsword clanging against the back of his thighs with every step. "What are my duties to be, then, Milady? It seems to me that you have some of the best instructors gold can buy training your future adventurers right here."

"Be that as it may," Aribeth paused so Kaerion could see the Arcane Magic training area before continuing onwards. "The students here don't have anyone they can call a real leader. That's why I want you to begin training them in group combat strategies. They've got to come to understand that they won't be aiding Neverwinter individually, but in teams of four or five people with different specialties." They walked by the dimly lit Rogue training hall and continued on to the Divine Magic lecture hall to observe clerics in training healing injured classmates and turning summoned skeletons and the like. "You will pick three other students to be part of your unit and begin the new class after the midday meal."

"As you will, Lady Aribeth," Kaerion tapped his gauntleted hand over his heart in salute. "Now, where should I stow my gear? Where will I be sleeping?"

Idiot! Aribeth mentally berated herself. "The dorm rooms are back the way we came, just before the Fighters' training hall. I'm afraid I have other duties to attend to, but if you'll direct your questions to one of the students, I'm sure they can aid you. Farewell, Kaerion."

"Farewell, Milady," Kaerion bowed and watched as Aribeth collected her squire and headed towards the entrance to the school. Now, he thought, retracing his steps back to the Fighters' Hall. Who to ask? His gaze fell on the two half-elves from before and a grin stretched across his handsome, rugged features. "Shade! Saria! Can you spare me a moment?"

"So as you shiver in the cold and the dark,

Look into the fire and see in its spark—

My eye

Watching over you

As you walk in the wind's whistling claws,

Listen past the howling of the wolf's jaws.

My song

Comes to you

And when you're lost in the trackless snow,

Look up high where the eagles go.

My star

Shines for you

In deep, dark mine or on crumbling peak,

Hear the words of love I speak.

My thoughts

Are with you

You are not forsaken

You are not forgotten.

The north cannot swallow you,

The snows cannot bury you.

I will come for you.

Faerün will grow warmer,

And the gods will smile

But oh, my love, guard yourself well—

All this may not happen for a long, long while

Majandra tapped her foot in time to the legato beat as Sharwyn, the fiery haired—and tempered—bard strummed her lute in the final bars of one of the Sword Coasts' traditional ballads and then bowed to the crowd filling the Trade of Blades tavern to the brim, reveling in the appreciative applause. Fey-touched, Rekkei snarled as the bard sauntered past Majandra's table near the back of the room and close to the exit, hips swinging seductively. That bard must be touched to produce something as…wonderful as that.

"Rekkei, you sound almost…sane," Majandra chuckled into her ale to mask the movement of her lips, eyes following Sharwyn as she joined her group of friends, a tough bunch of mercenaries, in a private dining room partitioned off from the main common room. "Must be going soft amongst all the non-evils!"

Shut up, you bleating goat's whelp! Rekkei screeched in reply. Majandra tuned out the cursing in the back of her mind with practiced ease, downing the rest of her drink in one gulp before dropping a coin on the table and walking out into the golden afternoon. Desther's voice had been screaming in the back of her head for an hour now, but she'd ignored the summons in favor of finishing her meal and listening to the bard sing.

"COME TO ME!" Majandra's world went white as pain knifed through her head, Desther's voice exponentially louder then before as he screamed in her head. "RETURN AT ONCE!"

"Oi, you okay, lady?" Majandra felt a strong, steady hand lifting her to her feet before she even realized she'd fallen.

"Fine." She replied, staggering out of his grasp. "Too much ale."

"As you will, my Lady," a deeper voice responded, and she opened her eyes to see a tiny Halfling and a gigantic half-orc that she recognized as part of Sharwyn's group from the Trade of Blades. "Do you perhaps require aid in reaching your next destination? I am Daelan of the Redtiger clan, and it would be my pleasure to escort you without a fee."

"An' I'm Tomi Undergallows!" the Halfling struck a jaunty pose and winked, faltering a bit when he didn't get a reaction. Damn, Boddyknock told me the ladies couldn't resist the "Tiny Man Power Pose!" "Eh, but yeh kin call me Tomi like everyone else, I s'pose…" Tomi finished weakly, hiding his slight form behind Daelan's massive presence.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Majandra replied shortly, dismissing the two mercenaries as she turned her back on them and stalked away, heading towards the nearest alleyway. She'd barely made it to the gaudily decorated Moonstone Mask when Desther's voice sent her stumbling into the wall opposite the palisade of the inner Core. This is my spot, you stupid old man fart! Rekkei screeched in retaliation, eliciting a slight smile from Majandra as she paused to collect herself before unsheathing her claws and leaping onto the grimy wall. Chips of stone fell in her wake as she made her way to the equally gaudy roof of the "pleasure house." The teleportation ability? Not only was it short range in her current weakened state, it was just a show to frighten Desther and his cronies, and give their plans for her an element of instability.

They obviously weren't scared of you before, now were they, runt? Rekkei sniped, eliciting a pained hiss from Majandra as she pulled herself over the gutter onto the arched roof, claws scraping on the tile until she made it to the flat ceiling. Desther's repeated summons had hammered her mental shielding paper thin, granting Rekkei more freedom of speech than usual. Any more, and Majandra would find her consciousness taking a long, forced nap whilst Rekkei painted the town red. Literally.

"They should be afraid," Majandra shot back, leaping to the next building and landing on all fours with cat-like grace as she ducked to avoid any casual glances up, unlikely as they were. The people of Neverwinter's eyes seemed to be rooted to the ground in fear and despair.

Suddenly, just as Majandra was gearing up for another cross-alley jump on her northbound journey to the Blacklake district, she felt another tugging at her soul. She looked down into the street, and, for a split second, her eyes gazed upon the most incredibly piercing emerald green orbs she'd ever seen in her life. The almond shape eyes seemed to gaze straight into her soul, judging her past, present, and future, and finding her wanting. Yet they also held a kind of…reverence almost, as though their owner felt the same tug within that Majandra was feeling.

Mine? Those eyes seemed to whisper, questioning.

Yours! Majandra felt as though her soul were screaming out, straining to reach and soothe the sadness ingrained in those portals to the forest. Forever yours!

A thousand lifetimes later, Majandra fell back, head reeling as she was released from the eyes' gaze. "Woah," Was all she could utter as she felt herself returning to normal function. "What in blazes was that?"

"Milady? Milady? Milady Aribeth, are you well?" Aribeth shook her head and found herself staring into the worried, pale face of her young squire, Pavel son of Palin. "Are you alright?" he repeated as Aribeth reoriented herself.

"I'm fine, Pavel," she replied finally, eyes refocusing. "Come, let us continue to the refectory for lunch, shall we?"

"Uh, of course, milady." Pavel stumbled along clumsily as they continued the short trek to the Halls of Justice.

Was that it? Aribeth mused as she made her way on autopilot, nodding absently to the patrolmen who saluted her and people calling out her name. Is that what I've been searching for all this time?

"Um, Milady?" Pavel interrupted her thoughts hesitantly. "May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead," Aribeth replied, sighing internally. Three years in her service, and Pavel had yet to drop the overly formal manner he wore whenever in her presence.

"W-was," he stuttered, "was it a vision? What happened just now?"

"I," Aribeth hesitated, unsure of how to respond when she herself had yet to understand exactly what she had just experienced. "It was more of a…meeting… I'd say. Honestly, I'm not quite sure how to describe it, Pavel. Perhaps I will seek guidance from our Lord when we return."

"Thank you for answering my question," Pavel bowed hurriedly, unaware of the wagon coming around the corner just as he did so.

FWAP! Aribeth winced as Pavel rose from the bow and stumbled right into the wagon's side, managing to shock the mule pulling it into rearing, overturning the wagon and throwing it's driver to the ground.

"Tyr grant me strength…" Aribeth muttered as she plastered a smile to her face and moved to help Pavel out of yet another mess.

"What took you so long?!" Slap! "Hmm? I've been summoning you for hours!" Slap! Majandra took the strikes stoically as Desther vented his rage on her body.

"Calm down, Desther," Fenthick murmured idly from his position by the window. The slim man wore a pensive expression as he stared out into the serene streets of the Blacklake district. "An extra hour or two is meaningless in the long run. The Mistress demands the plan be put into motion tonight, as the sun sets." His eyes flashed reptilian yellow and then faded back to a dull hazel, eliciting shivers from all in the small chamber.

Possession? Majandra wondered as she rose to her feet and leaned up against the wall, content with being ignored for the moment. Rekkei, do you sense the presence of Tanar'ri or Baatezu? I don't.

It's…different. Her alter ego replied a moment later, hesitatingly. Majandra simply nodded, watching the elf surreptitiously as he, Meldanen, and Desther conferred over a map of the Academy, deliberating over the placement of troops and traps for the coming hours.

"Majandra." Meldanen gestured for her to come over and she did as she was bid, bowing slightly as the circle of men parted for her to have a clearer view of the battle plans. "Though you will ultimately be in command of our infiltration forces, it has been decided that you will enter the Academy alone through a different route. Your mission will be to isolate Lady Aribeth de Tylmarande in her study and kill her."

"How are you so sure she will be there?" Majandra replied, easing into the role of a commander despite her prior reservation. "If she's as able as you say she is, won't she head straight for whatever it is she's hiding in that school of hers? That aside, she'll definitely have a unit of protectors with her regardless." Desther had hinted of an ulterior motive to attacking, but she hadn't been enlightened as of yet.

"No she won't." Fenthick replied confidently. "Aribeth delegates, and never sends men to do what she herself won't do. She'll choose to go alone and recover whatever important documents she has in her study, purposefully drawing the stronger opponents after her so her students have a chance of survival. She also has a strong paladin at her disposal, one I believe she'll trust to defend the objects we're interested in."

"I see." Majandra replied, eyes narrowing suspiciously. How does he know so much about this Aribeth woman? Who is he? "That said, aren't we falling right into her trap by sending me alone? What about the units you previously assigned to me?"

"She'll be expecting orcs or the like after dealing with goblins and humans for the most part," Desther replied, eyes burning with intensity as he envisioned the bloodbath-to-be. "Not an immortal assassin of your caliber. As for your troops, they will be part of the diversionary forces dealing with the students. We've already seen about replacing key faculty members with our own agents, so the rout should be quick and clean after the first initial resistance is defeated."

"If that's all you wanted to know, I'd like to move on," Meldanen, the strategist, interceded firmly before Desther could get any farther in the beginning of another bloodthirsty rant. "This, Majandra, will be your entry point into the Academy," a blue light sprang up around a window on the blueprint of the school, highlighting its proximity to the outer wall of the Beggar's District. "After you've entered the hallway, you'll find a staircase leading up down the hall to your right." As he spoke, a line of blue magic mimicked his words, outlining the path she was to follow. "Once you've gone up two flights, leave the stairway and begin making your way down the hall to the left through the primary dorm and refectory area. Now, you have two options once you've reached this area. You can either climb the walls to the rafters and travel that way, or you can use this," he handed her a small black gem about the size of her eye, "and create an illusion about yourself so you will blend in with the other students. We're giving you a twenty-minute grace period before we attack, so, depending upon how you use your time and for fast you're going, you may be able to make it there before the students are alerted to your arrival. If you're caught, kill all witnesses."

"That's one of the few requirements we have for you," Fenthick added. "Don't be seen, don't be caught, and don't be killed."

"Simple enough." Majandra nodded shortly. "Anything else you require of me?"

The three men shared a look before Meldanen responded. "No, that will be all. You have three hours to prepare before we move out, and I recommend you visit our arms masters to make sure you're well equipped."

"Right, will do. We, though? I was under the impression you three would be staying behind."

"Desther and I will be present during the attack," Fenthick replied. "Meldanen will remain here to coordinate the raiding squads and oversee the battlemap. Is that all?"

"Yes, sir," Majandra bowed slightly and retreated from the room, leaving the men to talk amongst themselves.

It's neither Baatezu nor Tanar'ri, Runt, Rekkei spoke up for the first time in nearly two hours, the intrusion into her thoughts causing Majandra to stumble. Something…more. Bigger, yet smaller. Older, yet…new?

"Knowing what it isn't is all well and good," Majandra muttered, scowling at a goblin soldier that dared look up at her as she passed it on the way to the room she'd been issued. "But do you have any idea what it COULD be? I'm not going to be the pawn of any bloody god war, or the like." She shuddered, body feeling as though it'd been drenched in icy cold water at the thought of her past mistress. "Not after…her."

Whatever. Rekkei's voice lost its sanity and picked up a shrill, mad edge. We're fighting again! War, bloodshed, violence, sanguine glory!

And once again, I'm one ace shy of a full deck… Majandra mused amusedly as she kicked open her door and entered the spartan room. A bed in the corner, a footlocker, and a desk underneath a barred window were the only comforts to be had. Not that she needed much more, really, for a place she'd spent maybe one week of eight in. Sighing internally, the fey'ri unsheathed her wakizashi and laid them out on the desk, followed by the collapsible spear she used during aerial combat, once upon a time when she had wings. Added to the weaponry was the sack of healing potions she carried at all times, a whetstone, two rings—spell resistance and minor regeneration, and an amulet that silenced her steps and dispelled her shadow.

"May as well get ready, then…" heaving a heavy sigh of resignation, Majandra picked up her first blade and immersed herself in the whisking sound of the whetstone on steel, soothing her mind in preparation for the mindless bloodshed to come.

A/N: So this chapter is finally done! (you have Hakubi to thank for this one) the next chapter? eh...let's say this year and it'll be a surprise! oh, and tf? I hope you like where Saria is going :) Cookie for the person who knows where Sharwyn's song came from. Neverwinter, yes, but you have to name the book. That's two hints! RR people, and a new chapter may be up before you expect!

Ja!