Disclaimer: for the billionth time (sigh) I don't own anything but the concept.
A/N: hmm, now for the chapter I first wrote when my older brother died. Nice. Glad I rewrote it, because it was probably crappy as all hell. Read on, erstwhile appreciators of literature!
LFK
Neverwinter Academy, Fighter's Training Hall…
"Come on, lad, I know you can do it! Let's go back to the top and keep working from there." Kaerion Galadorn sighed internally as he watched the young, fair-haired boy awkwardly draw his over-large sword and settle into his attack stance. "I remember when I was first learning my craft," Though I'm sure ANYONE is better to begin with than this guy! "And it took me many days to master this first kata. Just keep trying and you'll soon get it!"
"Um, okay Lord Galadorn!" the lad, Bim was his name, straightened up after the confidence boost from the paladin and began his practice sweeps anew.
"Alright then," Kaerion backed away to watch with a feigned critical eye and then returned to his spot on the wall. "You go on ahead. I'm watching." How in the name of Lathander was I roped into this? All I wanted to do was find the bloody mess hall! Suddenly, he heard a mumbled curse and then a thump, followed soon after by the clank of steel on stone.
"Don't worry about me, Lord Galadorn!" Bim shook his head dazedly as he stumbled to his feet and then struggled to lift the greatsword up after him. "Just, practicing falling is all!"
Kaerion took one look at the state of the lad, blue and white uniform torn in various places from his OWN blade, and groaned into the palm of his hands. Of all the places! He thought with tired remorse as Bim's blade squealed on the bare stone, WHY did it have to be Neverwinter?
Less than two weeks ago, Kaerion had been enjoying a well-deserved, short break between campaigns against evil in only the best of ways; eating hearty, drinking smartly, and wooing the women of Shigai, his hometown in Kara-tûr. Though a proclaimed native of the Far East, the paladin's roots lay in the Sword Coast and Waterdeep, where his family had carved its own niche in the vast merchant empire.
And speaking of home, Kaerion's thoughts returned to the present, and he found his gaze had wandered far a-field from his bumbling trainee and to the wall on the other side of the hall. Why does that person seem so familiar? As he watched, the deeply cowled figure jumped and then began speaking rapidly to a dark-skinned fellow who joined it against the wall. Just that one movement, a slight shift in the folds of his cloak, revealed pale ivory skin, a curvy, feminine build, and what appeared to be a black tipped tail.
A woman! And a demon at that! Where have I- "Wait a moment!" he started forward as he realized what made her seem so familiar. Something about her tickled the back of his mind insistently, almost begging for recognition. "That's-" just as he was about to approach the strange pair, an explosion rocked the room.
"What in cough blazes hack was THAT!" Kaerion exclaimed as the memory disappeared in a flash, aided in part by the lungful of colored gas he'd inhaled and a narrow escape from Bim's panicked swing.
"Watch what you're doing with that thing!" the paladin shouted as he caught the blade in the palm of his gauntleted hand and wrenched it away from the boy. "This, Bim, is –not- a toy!"
Meanwhile, as Kaerion lectured the boy firmly on the use of a weapon, Sergeant Hearse was chewing out poor little Master Jaroo, the gnome mage in charge of arcane training.
When the room finally returned to normal again, with Jaroo, and Bim to a lesser extent, completely humbled, Kaerion noticed the mysterious woman exchange a few more words with her companion and then stride off in Hearse's direction.
Now I wonder… the paladin waited until he was sure they were headed in his direction before quickly turning around and heading in the direction of a free combat dummy.
Making sure he was on the side facing towards Hearse's platform, Kaerion drew a longsword and dagger from his impressive arsenal and began warming up with the flourishing dance of steel that made up the swashbuckler's discipline. As he shadow sparred with the wooden limbs of the dummy, blades flashing in complex patterns and forms, the paladin kept a sharp eye on what was happening less than fifteen paces away.
"Ah, my favorite half-breeds!" Hearse boomed, loud enough for Kaerion to hear quite clearly. "What can I do for you today?"
"I was wondering if you had any new opponents for me." The woman replied pleasantly, warm tone dispelling the cold aura draped about her like a cloak. The rest of the conversation was carried on too quietly for Kaerion to do much more than follow the change in speakers, focusing most of his efforts on the melodious voice of the woman.
What is she? He wondered as he paused in his dance to wipe sweat off his forehead. He was beginning to regret coming out in full kit to be tested by his new commanders, though he did indeed look impressive in his silver plate and gold cloak. She sounds and speaks like an elf, yet she associates with a half-drow instead of her own people. There are no high elves here, so that may explain her cloak, yet from what I saw, she has the complexion of one of the Tel'Quessir. No, the better question is Who is she?
"How about him?" Kaerion snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Her voice, and turned to see the cloaked woman pointing directly at him.
"Me?" he pointed at his own chest, nearly forgetting the keen dagger in his hand until it scraped across his breastplate. But Hearse had already turned away to consider the proposition.
"Fine," the big man huffed, stroking his beard, "but there will be conditions! Practice weapons only! I don't want to send either of you to the infirmary before the big dance."
"Yes sir!" Kaerion blinked as the woman, skipped, away towards the weapons racks with what appeared to be a genuinely eager grin.
"Uh, sir?" he walked up to Hearse and bowed slightly. "Why didn't I get a say in this fight?"
"Because I wanted to see this!" Hearse chortled, beer belly rumbling under the links of his chain shirt. "You, the newcomer and wild card warrior, versus her, un-proclaimed champion of the academy and envy of all."
"Yes, yes," Kaerion replied hurriedly, "but who is she?"
"That, my boy, is for you to find out." Hearse looked up as the woman returned with two padded sticks the length of her forearm. "Now hurry! You are using real weapons against her, but make no mistake, that is no real advantage."
Kaerion bowed again and then walked towards the chalk circle beneath the platform where She was already waiting, weapons ready.
"Habari. Ani mitsrigi niana kume?" (May I ask what your name is?) Kaerion bowed formally in the Kara-Tûran style and then settled into his fighting stance, longsword and dagger exchanged for a single bastard sword and shield.
The woman froze and then nodded stiffly, returning the greeting and adding, "My name is irrelevant to an unproven boy. Fight well, and I may consider it." As she spoke, she swept her cloak off her shoulders and to the ground, revealing more of the mystery that had gotten him into this mess to begin with.
I see! Kaerion couldn't tear his eyes away from the exotic woman before him. A fey'ri! Now I remember!
"What're you looking at?" Her tail lashed angrily, flicking side to side like a feline's, as her amber eyes deepened into a light rose. Sharp, silver horns gleamed within the complex braid that fell to her waist.
"Nothing." Kaerion replied as his face went up in flames. "Are you ready, or do you want to talk more?"
"You aren't ready for this, pretty boy." And then, right before his eyes, she disappeared.
Kaerion barely had time to raise his shield in defense before two strikes impacted with stunning force against his left arm, jarring the limb straight to the bone. He felt her slide by him, but was too late again when the arch of her foot slammed into the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward a few steps.
"I told you, you weren't ready," he looked up and she was standing before him, breathing evenly and without hint of discomfort in her black tunic and pants. "This city is without hope if those bastards running the place think you're the best there is to offer!"
"Ready?" Kaerion laughed, startling the woman, as he tossed his shield to the side, not noticing as the crowd that had surrounded them shifted out of its path. "I was just testing you! I've heard of you, fey'ri, and your accomplishments. Perhaps you are a match for me, though I think not!"
"Really," she drawled, reversing her grip on both weapons. "I've yet to encounter anyone who could match me in fair combat, and it'll be long before anyone does!" she launched herself at the paladin once more, and was surprised when he met both her blades with his own at the wide hilt of his bastard sword.
"Hmm, don't think you were expecting that." Kaerion gave his most infuriatingly charming grin and was rewarded with a snarl as she broke the lock and then slammed a foot into his gut before dancing away with a self-satisfied grin brightening her features. The following exchange tested both combatants to their limits, each move punctuated by harsh breaths and the clash of steel on steel as first the woman and then Kaerion pressed the advantage.
Finally, breathing hard, Kaerion shoved her back and lowered his sword.
"What?" she demanded, ignoring both the sweaty strands of hair teasing her lips and the sting of bruises on her arms and upper body. "Why are you stopping?" several observers murmured uneasily at the smirk that twisted her lips, and the bright light in her golden eyes.
Gold? Shade wondered as he watched his friend suck in air as she watched Kaerion intently. I thought this was a serious fight, yet she seems to see it as fun Only once had he ever seen the golden light of happiness in her normally reddish eyes, and, now that he thought about it, it had been during their one fight against each other.
Kaerion seemed to realize this fact as well, and laughed heartily before calling out, "Perhaps we should make this more interesting!"
"How?" she actually laughed! "I thought you were enjoying yourself! I know I am. I've yet to face anyone who has given me as much trouble as you, Master Paladin."
"Why thank you," Kaerion bowed slightly and returned the grin. "And I you. Now, I suggest a little wager. Should you defeat me in the next ten minutes, I'll…" he paused in thought. He was here to help Lady Aribeth protect Neverwinter, as well as find a cure for the plague, and surely this woman was as well. "I'll speak to Lord Nasher on your behalf." He ignored her frozen look of shock and continued. He'd seen the silver bracelet bouncing around her wrist, and the sight stoked his formidable temper. "But, if I win, then you will allow me to escort you to tonight's ball, where we'll speak of our communal homeland, among other things."
She seemed to think for a moment, torn between pride and years' worth of caution, before nodding in agreement. "Majandra," she added, more of an afterthought. "I am Majandra Damar."
Majandra… Kaerion nodded, and the battle resumed in earnest. Right off the mark, Majandra landed three hard blows to Kaerion's sword arm before being forced back by an undercut to her gut followed by a swift riposte into her right shoulder.
"Gahh!" she stifled a moan as the sharp blade pierced through her shoulder with a surgeon's precision and immediately slid out, warm red blood spurting onto her clothes and across Kaerion's breastplate. She could feel the demonic rage, power, surging through her body, aching for release, and, for once, she was grateful to the piece of silver giving her a reason not to.
"Damn!" Kaerion immediately lowered his sword and moved closer with a hand ready to catch her should she fall. He completely missed the smirk on her face, and was surprised when she took his hand and pulled him over her shoulder. He hit the floor with a crash and groan, and realized only a second later that she was straddling his waist with a padded blade to his throat.
"Tie…Kaerion?" Majandra held him down for a moment and then stepped back to offer him a hand. Her injured hand.
He stared at his for a moment, at the already healing wound in her shoulder, and then accepted, letting her heave him to his feet unaided.
"Tie…Majandra." They stood like that for a while; hands clasped tightly, and simply unraveled each other with their eyes, each searching for the lost link that would connect their pasts. Finally, someone broke through their thoughts and brought them back down to earth.
"That was one hell of a fight. Well done, Majandra." Blushing furiously, a trait she despised about her ultra-pale skin, Majandra broke Kaerion's grip and turned to face her "jailer".
"Mikhail." She said tonelessly, though a slight twitch of her lips let lie to the game they were playing. "Come to make sure the 'dangerous demon' hasn't slain anyone? How long were you here?"
"Long enough to see you take a trouncing and have to resort to trickery to eke out a tie." Mikhail replied in the same fashion, chocolate-brown eyes glittering in amusement.
"Ah, trickery it wasn't." Kaerion put in humbly, missing the quick glance of respect and thanks from Majandra, and the nasty glare from Shade. "I should know by now that in a real life situation, hesitating will get you killed. I hesitated, and Majandra would have killed me for it."
"Whatever, we both of us know how that battle would have turned out for real." Majandra tossed her practice blades at one of the still-gawking bystanders and then bent to pick up her cloak, sweeping it around her shoulders with a well practiced motion. "Meet me in the audience chamber before Lady Aribeth's speech, and we'll discuss our plans for the ball. You can ask her about Nasher there as well."
Kaerion just nodded and cleaned his blade before sheathing it beside the greatsword on his back. "Will do, and see you then." He turned and bowed to Mikhail and the still unnamed darkelf. "Gentlemen."
Majandra and her companions watched as Kaerion made his way out of the training hall and in the direction of the mess hall, his prior destination to begin with.
"Wow," she muttered under her breath as she watched the walking tank leave. "He's really as good as they say. If that had been a real fight, I could've ended up dead!" she paused, and then smirked. "Nah! I just didn't try hard enough! Paladin my ass!"
"You didn't seem to mind it when he checked out your ass!" Shade growled as he stepped in front of his friend's vision, ignoring the sharp glare Mikhail sent his way.
"Excuse me?" Majandra's voice was icy cold, and the rose that tinted her eyes could have melted the skin from his bones on the spot. "I don't think I heard you correctly. You did just say that you want me to kill you and introduce you to the masters of the Abyss, right?"
Shade ignored her words and grasped her tightly by the hand, red eyes boring into her own with frightening intensity.
"All I wanted was to ask you to accompany me to the dance, yet you wouldn't even give me the time of day! Do you know how long I watched you from afar, learning your schedules and routines, your favorite foods, your favorite ways to humiliate people, the way you fight before I mustered up the courage to approach you? I talked to you, shared in your jokes, followed your lead, and BEFRIENDED YOU! And what do you do? The first chance you get, you go traipsing off into the arms of a bloody paladin! By Cyric, you make me sick!" Shade was breathing hard by the end of his rant, eyes slightly unfocused and sweat beading his ebony brow.
"Sorry, Shade," he didn't see her fist as it swung through the air to connect with his jaw. He looked up at her from the ground, eyes wide with shock as he realized what he'd done. "But I don't feel comfortable spending time with someone who stalked me!" she sneered down at him, spat at his feet, and then stalked off, tail lashing furiously.
"Now what made you think that was a good idea?" Mikhail finally asked when the silence had gone on long enough, and his charge was out of sight. "You of all people, her so called friend, should have been able to see how she really felt about the paladin. Fool." The stolid man hoisted the half-drow to his feet and then pushed him away.
"But why didn't she listen to me before? I dropped enough hints, so I thought." Shade replied mournfully, eyes locked on his boots as though they were the most interesting things in the world.
"You know how she gets when she find something to occupy her mind, idiot. There isn't enough excitement in her life here, and, just like the great cats of Calimshan in the zoo, she's wasting away from boredom."
"I see." Shade said mournfully, hiding behind his white bangs in shame. "Well, goodbye for now, I guess."
Mikhail just nodded and headed off in the direction Majandra had gone, back towards their rooms.
Majandra and Mikhail's Suite, Neverwinter Academy…
"Just who the hell does he think he is!" Mikhail hunched is shoulders slightly as he neared the room he shared with the volatile daemonfae, anticipating the tongue-lashing, or at least the temper tantrum that would be awaiting him on the other side of the oaken door.
"Calm down, girl." He said as he stepped into the room. "He was just… shooting his mouth off?" Expecting the suite to be a wreck, Mikhail was surprised to no end by the site that greeted his eyes. Instead of the innards of pillows and shredded cloth scattered across the floor, instead there were sheets of parchment lying in crumpled balls across the floor.
"What are you doing?" the weapons master asked as he made his way across the cluttered floor, stepping carefully around what could've been demonic mines for all he knew. "And why isn't the room completely destroyed like last time?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" Majandra grumbled as she wrote swiftly and neatly with the quill pen, shoulders shaking every once in awhile from the suppressed rage. "I'm writing that damned report Nasher ordered I write for his intelligence department concerning this 'plague'"
"I see." Mikhail sat on the couch and said no more, adding to the scratch of the pen the whisk of a whetstone across his glaive, a curved pole arm. For hours, the two friends sat in silence, each engrossed in their own work, until a heavy knock came to their door.
"I'll get it." Mikhail said as he set aside his spear and stood up, muscles creaking from disuse.
"whatever." Majandra grunted as she continued writing. The piles of parchment had grown exponentially in the last three hours, and she still didn't have a satisfactory paper.
You know what? She thought, ignoring the low murmur of voices behind her as Mikhail and the newcomer spoke. This is stupid. She crumpled up the piece of paper she was working on once again and tossed it to the side before taking out her final sheet.
The plague of Neverwinter can only described as a curse for a few specific reasons. She wrote. Firstly, plagues and sicknesses usually originate in one area before spreading to infect others. This plague began almost simultaneously in all four districts of the city, barring the city core, suggesting foul play or interference. Secondly, there has been no word of plague from any of the surrounding villages and environs, therefore it couldn't have been brought in by trade, as was suggested by Lord Nasher. A supporting fact to this is that it is the dead of winter here in the northern regions, and all sicknesses move slowly, as does trade.
Finally, and perhaps the most defining to one such as I, is the content of the blood of the victims. Blood, a usually pure substance, especially that springing from the heart, was instead laced with streams of dark magic, nearly undetectable unless specifically looked for. The only reason I knew of it was the inadvertent ingestion of blood from a group of human guards that attacked me in the city core.
As ordered, I have presented all of my knowledge to the officials of Lord Nasher and the guardians of his city. It is my hope that this, as well as my good behavior in the past months, will be reason enough to free me from my bonds and give me leave to exit the city.
Majandra Damar, Survivor
"Majandra! I have good news!" Mikhail said excitedly from behind her as he closed the door with a sharp clack.
"Uh, what?" she replied warily, unused to the amount of emotion the normally stoic man was showing, and had been showing pretty much all day.
"Here!" he took his hands from behind his back, revealing a finely carved leather sword belt with two sheaths clipped on each side.
"No way," Majandra breathed as she reached a hesitant hand for her long absent weapons. "Does this mean what I think it does?"
"Yes," Mikhail replied simply, an honest smile gracing his features as he watched his young charge buckle the belt around her thin waist and then close her eyes with a shiver of pleasure.
Majandra! Demon Child! Rekkei and Tekkei-maru's voices exploded in Majandra's head like a long dormant geyser; painful as the bond between girl and wakizashi was reopened, but just a soothing as sinking into the warm waters of a hot spring.
I've missed you both so much! She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, but two streams of clear liquid slipped down her cheeks regardless. When she'd lost her weapons, her only friends and lifelong companions, she'd held off the grief by keeping angry and busy, aided by the hostile environment she was in. Now, though, all the pent up grief surged to the fore, and she felt her shoulders shaking.
"Hey," she looked up through swimming eyes to see Mikhail standing over her, chocolate eyes brimming with compassion as he brought her to his chest in a comforting hug. "Shh, it's ok. I know how you feel."
Pfft, how would he know how we're feeling right now? Rekkei snorted in Majandra's head, a comforting, though perpetually angry, presence in her mind.
Oh, shut up, Rekkei! Tekkei replied wearily, a soothing voice in the dark void. Can't you see that he's a weapon master? He'd know.
"How?" Majandra voiced Rekkei's argument with a soft voice. She hadn't let anyone in like she had Mikhail since her father's death, yet she found that they still barely knew anything about each other.
"It's… a long story." Mikhail said finally, still rubbing soothing circles around her lower back. "One that I've told few people. Heh, frankly, no one's really asked before."
"Tell me?" Majandra's voice was like that of a young child begging for a bedtime story, completely ignoring the good news that Mikhail had promised before her breakdown. "We'll trade a tale for a tale, promise."
"How about this," Mikhail scooted away from the girl self-consciously and returned to his seat on the couch opposite Majandra's desk, picking up his glaive carefully. "I'll tell you my story when we return after the ball. Lady Aribeth has requested your presence at the graduation taking place in an hour, and you need time to get ready."
"What do you mean she requests my presence?" Majandra asked, gaze resting on the carved ivory haft of Mikhail's weapon. She'd seen the gentle look in his eyes as he sharpened it late at night when he thought she wasn't looking, as well as the fierce anger when any other dared touch it. "I was already going to the ceremony anyway with Kaerion, and I can simply deliver the report to any of her little lapdog paladins the next time we go out, or….OOHHH!" she exclaimed nearly keeling over backwards in her hurry to stand. "You mean-?"
"Yes," Mikhail said with a proud smile. "The combined efforts of myself, Aribeth, as well as a few of the instructors here have managed to persuade Lord Nasher that you are safe among the citizens of the city."
"Yes!" Majandra threw her arms around him for the second time in an hour and then jumped back, a look of shock covering both hers and Mikhail's faces.
Now where did that come from? Tekkei-maru asked amusedly from the depths of her mind as the fey'ri and weapons master moved away from each other.
Wherever it came from, it's sickening! Rekkei-maru replied irritably.
"Um, I think something's wrong," Majandra muttered as her pale skin flushed red. "I'm not normally this, well, emotional, if you know what I mean."
"Neither am I." Mikhail replied, shaking his head slowly at the strangeness of it all. "What's different about today?"
"Nothing," Majandra thought for a moment and then added, "the only atypical thing that happened was…. Jaroo's smoke attack! It must have swept most of the academy for at least five minutes before dissipating. Everyone must have been breathing it in."
"Do you think that would also explain Shade's behavior?" Mikhail stood, expression shadowed with worry at what appeared to be another untimely coincidence to the plague.
"Maybe," Majandra replied, "if so, I've got to find Shade now and apologize for hitting him, among other things."
"You go and do that," Mikhail stretched his tense muscles before sitting back down with his glaive. "I'll make sure the report is delivered to the proper authorities and then meet you in the graduation hall in an hour.
Majandra nodded her understanding of the plan and swept out of the room in a flurry of cloak and tail.
"Well, I guess that leaves you and me, my dear." Mikhail stroked the blade of his weapon with soft fingers and got an answering rosy glow and feeling of warmth from the sentient weapon.
Rogue Training Center, Neverwinter Academy…
"What the hell was I thinking?" Shade growled to himself as he tinkered with the lock on the practice test in the Rogue's training hall. "I never would say anything hurtful like that to Majandra! She's the first friend, true friend, I've had in years! I'd never touch her in that brutish fashion." His mutterings continued as the stubborn lock refused to yield to his picks.
Suddenly, Shade heard quiet steps behind him and felt the threat of violence looming in the air. Just as he heard the beginnings to an all too familiar spell, the half-drow whirled around and tossed a throwing knife in the direction of his attacker. There was a bright flash of light, and Shade felt his heart stop dead in his chest. The last thing he saw before death claimed him was the beaky nose of a gnome and the jarring yellow and purple uniform that only one being could possibly stomach.
"I'm sorry…Majandra…" he whispered as air whooshed out of his lungs for the last time.
"Hehehe," Jaroo chuckled insanely as he glared down at the body of one of the most competent students in the school. "One down, and many to go! All for the glory of the Masters!" his magically conjured gas was already wrecking the emotional stability of all the inhabitants of this excuse for a school, and, soon enough, none of the students would be able to fight with any ability, much less pick up the right side of their weapons!
With another soulless laugh, the gnome spit on Shade's body and exited the dark training room, confident that the next wave of horrors would take care of any students he and his compatriot didn't annihilate.
Fighter's Hall, Neverwinter Academy…
Hearse was watching the doorway to his Hall when he saw a flash of purple and yellow from the corner of his eye waving the confirmation he'd been waiting for. With a deep chuckle, the burly man watched with satisfaction as his blissfully unaware students stumbled about drunkenly and without a clue as to what was really happening as one of his black-garbed henchmen began relieving them of their weapons. Soon enough, the clean up crew of little vermin would arrive to take care of the wannabe adventurers and his thankless job would be over.
Graduation Hall, Neverwinter Academy…
Kaerion made it to the graduation hall at the agreed upon hour just as Majandra came around the opposite corner with an apprehensive expression on her face.
"Majandra!" he called out, proving that she seriously hadn't been paying attention to where she was going as she noticed him for the first time. "I'm glad you could make it, but you look like something's troubling you."
"Have you seen Shade?" she replied distractedly, one hand stroking the blade at her hip nervously. "Mikhail and I realized that the smoke we inhaled during that accident was making us a little less, uninhibited with our emotions, and I just wanted to apologize for something I did."
"Well, that does sound serious." Kaerion frowned in reply, "I haven't seen him, but I'm sure he just wants to be by himself until he can face you."
"I'm sure that's it," Majandra nodded and then seemed to come back to herself. "Right then, are we doing this thing or not? Lady Aribeth awaits us inside." The paladin nodded and held open the door for her as she strode into the room confidently.
"Ah, Majandra!" Aribeth looked up from where she was standing at the center of the room and called her over with a happy grin. "Come, bring our guest and speak with me. I have something of importance to tell you." Ignoring the stares of the other students in the room with them, Kaerion and Majandra did as they were told and approached the lady paladin.
"My Lady," Kaerion bowed to his religious superior, "I am Kaerion Galadorn, Paladin of Lathander the Morning Lord, and his representative to the city during this horrible time. I was honored to accept your request that I come, and hope that I can assist you in any way possible."
"Thank you for accepting our request for aid in these dark times, Lord Paladin. I trust that with your help, we will have the city cured of this plague in no time, and or people safe." And with that, the introductions were put behind them and Kaerion, with a glance from Majandra, left the two women alone to talk.
"So, Majandra," Aribeth smiled warmly at the other woman and dropped her informal manner. "How have you fared these last two months? Well, I hope."
"There've been ups and downs, milady," Majandra replied honestly, yet unable to be as informal as the friendly paladin was trying to be. "Truthfully, today has been the best as of yet. Oh, and thank you very much for giving Mikhail the authority of," her smile turned into a sneer for a moment, "taking me out on walks through the city in the evening."
"it's the very least I could do," Aribeth replied, her own expression darkening as she recalled the fight and how much she'd had to sacrifice just to allow the innocent, well, mostly innocent, fey'ri a few hours of freedom.
"Oh, well, it was more than anyone else has ever tried to do for me." Majandra muttered as she broke eye contact, but not fast enough to hide the flash of vulnerability and loneliness.
"Majandra," Aribeth was reaching out to the younger woman when she felt a strong warning from her connection with her lord Tyr. "Everyone! Draw your weapons for we are under attack!" as she spoke, she drew the enchanted bastard sword swinging at her side and charged at the black-garbed man who appeared in a corner of the room with a burst of magic.
"What the hell?" Majandra exclaimed as she twisted out of the way of a horde of magic missiles that went careening into a group of students behind her. Her eyes flashed deep crimson as she heard their death screams, and she charged the mysterious assailant with a snarl on her lips. The mage barely had time to whimper before Rekkei and Tekkei-maru bit into his flesh like hungry wolves and brought him to death's embrace.
On the other side of the room, Kaerion was engaging a third assassin with a group of graduates, and they already had him on the defensive. Kaerion saw his opening and struck without mercy, watching with cold eyes as he impaled the man on the length of his sword.
Aribeth took her man down in record time as well, the only evidence of a slight struggle being a tear in her right shoulder and the red hair that hung over her eyes.
"Who are you working for?" she demanded of the fourth and final intruder as she and the students cornered him against the wall. "why have you attacked this place?"
"You think I'd tell you anything, bitch?" the man snarled. Majandra was watching him intently and could see his hands moving behind his back in an all too familiar spell.
"Dammit, Aribeth, get down!" she threw herself at the paladin just as the spell went off.
"For the Masters!" the man cried the massive fireball consumed his body and those of the poor souls standing nearest him. The concussion from the blast took out a pillar and some of the ceiling above them, and marble rained down upon their heads.
Majandra came too a short time later as the irritating sharp edges of Aribeth's armor poked her in her aching ribs.
"By Lathander," Kaerion groaned from across the room where he'd been thrown, shaking his golden head to clear it and remove the dust and pebbles that had gathered there. "There's a reason I hate mages…"
"At least you're alive," Majandra replied as she forced herself into a seated position beside the unconscious paladin. "I'm willing to bet we're some of the few still alive after the attack, which I'm sure occurred in other parts of the academy. This felt a little too concentrated, almost as though they were trying to take out the strongest first."
"I agree." Kaerion replied as he retrieved his blade from where it landed not far from him and sheathed it. "We need to get out of here and investigate."
A groan from beside Majandra had her bent over with clear worry in her eyes as Aribeth struggled out of unconsciousness.
"Are you ok?" Majandra asked as she helped the woman sit up. "Hurt?"
"I'm fine." Aribeth replied shortly, and the look in her eyes surprised both warriors. "But we need to take care of the invaders before anything else. Now, Kaerion, I need you to do something for me." She stood slowly, unaided, and fished a chain from around her neck.
"I am yours to command, my Lady," Kaerion replied respectfully as he and Majandra got up as well.
"Good," she nodded and held out an iron key to the paladin. "This key opens the great doors to the restricted side of the academy. I want you to take it and find the Waterdhavian Creatures. I know I've spoken to you about them, and how they are our hope for a cure to the plague. I need you to defend them from the attackers at all costs. Surely they believed I would be wherever the creatures were, that's why they were so powerful. For me to go would be leading them straight to their prize."
"I understand." Kaerion replied as he took the key and, without another word, stomped out of the room.
When they were left alone, Majandra turned to Aribeth and said, "How come you gave him leave to go fight? What am I supposed to do?"
"You're coming with me, Majandra," Aribeth replied, and the glint in her almond shaped eyes nearly gave the fey'ri pause. She'd been told how frightening her eyes could be when she truly lusted after someone's blood, but she didn't think they could be as terrifying as Aribeth's own were at the moment. "We're going to clean up the scum that think they can operate like rabid beasts in my city. Now come, we have vermin to kill." And with that, the two women stalked out of the room with bare steel glittering in their hands and hate in their eyes.
Kaerion
Creeping down the eerily silent halls of the academy was a nerve-wracking experience to the high-strung paladin. Each slight shift in the shadows cast by flickering torchlight had Kaerion whirling towards the sound, sword bared and shield raised for defense.
"Hehehe," Kaerion stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of high-pitched voices coming from nearby. "Master say we got get loot treasure much much!"
"Oh yes!" another of the little beasts crowed to the sound of coins and jewels jingling in a sac. "Money for clan!"
"Goblins," Kaerion hissed in disgust as the small green-skinned monsters came into view. "Dirty vermin!" he checked his blade and then howled a war cry that made his targets' greasy hair stand on end.
The four goblins barely had time to shriek in fear before the paladin's blade cleaved through their bodies with frightening efficiency. Their heads hit the ground in a series of thuds, one after the other, followed by the crash their armored bodies made soon after.
Kaerion flicked his blade clean of the multi-colored blood staining the steel and continued onward in his search for the Waterdhavian creatures and any survivors he might encounter.
He hadn't been walking long when he heard the quiet sounds of a human in distress. Heaving a world-weary sigh, Kaerion entered the large study to find a uniformed boy with shield and mace huddled against a dark corner with tears trickling down his pale cheeks.
"Here now," Kaerion said gently, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible. "Don't cry. You're safe-"
"No I'm not!" the boy cut him off as he scrambled to his feet, weapons held threateningly. "You're probably working with them, just like some of the others! I had to watch as Hearse cut down my brother Bim! He was my only family in this city!"
"Ah, Lord," Kaerion shook his head tiredly, "Poor lad. That would make you Pavel, then. His little brother."
"So you're not with them?" Pavel replied as he took a tiny step forward, hope flickering in his eyes. "Take me with you! I can fight, and I know this part of the academy better than you probably do!"
"And how would you know anything about the restricted areas?" Kaerion asked with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't they usually restricted for a reason?"
"Um," Pavel blushed profusely and looked at his boots with a sheepish grin. "I was interested in one of the maids that worked here and, well, she showed me around."
"That sounds innocent enough," Kaerion agreed after a moment of touch scrutiny. "Well, you can't stay behind, so you'll just have to prove your worth by watching my back. Let's move out."
The paladin and boy disappeared back into the ruins without another word spoken between them.
Majandra
"Just die already, you little bastards!" Majandra snarled as she cut down a goblin scrabbling at her back with a dagger just in time to meet another attacker as it launched itself at her torso. She raised Rekkei-maru a foot away from her chest and sneered at the look in the goblin's eyes as it realized it was about to impale itself. There was a sickening thud as the hilt jarred against her chest, but Majandra was ok in the most important way the goblin was not. "I don't like wasting my time fighting you little, shits!"
The "little shits", as she'd so kindly put it, had evidently decided a group attack was better than watching their comrades die at the end of her deadly blades, and threw themselves at her in a flurry of stabs and blows from their tiny weapons.
"Oww, dammit!" Majandra growled as she went down under the dog pile of dirty, greasy, slimy creatures. A good four goblins held down her arms apiece, but they made the huge mistake of leaving her legs free.
"Haha, we gots you!" one of the larger goblins crowed in her face. "Masters be pleased with demon girl." Majandra's eyes narrowed and flashed in anger. The poor goblin would never know what hit him.
Across the way and out of range of Majandra's chaotic battle, Aribeth was fighting her own battles against the true fighters of the insurgency. Black robed men, at least ten of them, lay crumpled at her feet in bloody pools, and yet still more came.
"You cannot win, intruder!" Aribeth said with steel in her voice as her bastard sword cleaved through the wimpy metal of her opponent's rapier. She laid the blade at his concealed throat and added, "Tyr will grant you the mercy of a swift and just death should you tell me who you are working for and what your goals are."
"All glory to the Masters!" the man's maniacal laugh was identical to the others' as he slipped away from her blade and charged her with a belt knife.
"So be it then," Aribeth murmured as she whipped her blade up and over her left shoulder. The man's head hit the bloodstained marble floor with a thunk, followed soon after by the rest of his spurting body.
There was finally a lull in the seemingly respawning enemies in black, and Aribeth paused in time to see Majandra drop the larger goblin's body onto the floor with the other shredded corpses. The fey'ri glanced over when she felt eyes upon her, and smiled wickedly at the paladin, eyes gleaming almost insanely. Her tail rose in the air, teasingly seductive as it caressed her left leg to hang in front of her eye, and she flicked blood off of it with frightening nonchalance.
"A lovely night for a dance, wouldn't you agree, my Lady Paladin?" Majandra asked in a husky tone as she slinked towards her companion. Her eyes were blazing crimson, and that same smile was still on her lips. A white fang peaked over her lips, tipped with a bead of blood.
"Majandra," Aribeth replied warningly as the fey'ri moved ever closer. "I'll have to ask you to stay away from me until you explain what you're on about."
Majandra threw her head back and laughed, an eerie, chilling sound that echoed throughout the hall. "Do you not wish to dance with me, paladin?" Rekkei-maru twirled across her fingers and into her palm like magic, the blade gleaming crimson like her eyes. "I don't want to be disappointed!" She seemed like she was about to attack her companion when a shudder ran through her whole body.
"No," the blade dropped out of her hands as they rose to her head and clenched into fistfuls of hair. "NO! Rekkei," her voice sounded like the old Majandra again, just as soft but without the blatant sexuality and overwhelming assertiveness. "Get out! I control this body, not you!"
Aribeth watched in shock as Majandra stumbled back against the wall and slid to the ground, pounding her head against the stone as she went into a verbal argument between herself and her alter ego.
Finally, the hall was quiet, and Majandra seemed to have calmed down a bit.
"Majandra, tell me what's wrong." Aribeth knelt beside the shaking girl, for that's all she appeared to be now, and, careful not to make any sudden movements, laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can trust me to help. I trust you, after all."
Instead of flinching away from the touch, though it took all of her willpower not to do so, Majandra let out a shuddering breath and released the tension from her muscles.
"After a battle," she rasped after a moment, voice hoarse from the effort to rein in the blood lust that still pulsed inside her, "I would ask that you stay away from me and not touch me until you are assured of my," she paused and grinned crookedly, "sanity. My temper can be rather fearsome, and the Demon doesn't distinguish between friend and foe while threatened." She looked up into Aribeth's gentle expression and added, "It's my fault for not warning you what I was capable of before going into battle alongside a half-demon. I apologize for what happened."
"What exactly are those blades of yours?" Aribeth asked after a moment. She was stroking Majandra's hair gently, trying to calm the fey'ri down before they got into another battle situation. "And why did you call out the red one's name? I have many questions for you that need to be answered for the good of all if something like this has the ability to set you off."
Majandra's expression froze, and Aribeth winced as the open, vulnerable look in those amber eyes slammed shut with indefinite finality.
"We should move on," Majandra got to her feet, completely disregarding Aribeth's questions and the hurt look in the paladin's eyes. "We'll be overwhelmed if we stay in one place long enough for that tracking spell on you to lock on again." She strode off without Aribeth, and didn't turn once to see if she was following.
Aribeth watched the fey'ri stalk off with a worried expression on her face. She'd always known Majandra had a violent streak in her genetic makeup, but this had been the first time she'd seen the Demon in her friend in full, bloody action. She thanked Tyr that Majandra was an honorable woman seeking to aid Neverwinter, and that Nasher hadn't ordered anything overly rash. She was terrified of what the results might have been after seeing the carnage Majandra was capable of.
So, Majandra, Rekkei-maru whispered from the depths of her mind as she strode along the darkened hallway in search of a quiet place where she could order her chaotic thoughts, and calm down from the bloody high she'd just been on. How did you like the feeling of being a true Demon, if only for a moment? Did you like the power it gave you to see that paladin quaking in her boots as you stalked her like prey?
"Shut up." She growled, trying her best to ignore the newly unwelcome voice of her "evil" blade in her head. "Just, shut up."
I'm sorry, Majandra, Tekkei piped in a second later. I didn't know how linked your emotions were to our relative domains. It appeared up until now that we were to be nothing more than guides, consciences to balance your demonic and elven natures. We'll have to investigate more into this.
"We'll do no such thing!" Majandra snapped. "I just have to stay in control, that's all. No more blood rages, no more using Rekkei in battle.
What! The crimson blade pulsed angrily on her thigh as it shouted in her head. You'll do no such thing! Just admit it! You ENJOYED being the cause of Aribeth's fear, of the raw power you had!
"You're right!" Majandra shouted in reply, almost wishing the blades could have physical bodies if only so she could hit her errant companion. "I liked it too much, which is why I can never experience that kind of raw energy again. It would destroy everything Father made me, and I won't let that happen!" all three fell silent at the truth in Majandra's words and, though still fuming at the rejection, Rekkei promised not to mention the subject until they were out of this situation.
"Stupid Paladin and her questions," Majandra muttered irately as she stalked down one of the more familiar and better-lit halls, almost daring someone to attack just so she'd be able to take her frustration out on somebody.
She was passing the doors to the Rogue's Hall when she thought she saw a flash of familiar white.
"Shade?" she whispered as she stepped into the room warily. "Is that you?" she murmured a few words under her breath and an orb of white light brightened the room considerably, inadvertently revealing one of her worst nightmares.
Lying spread-eagled in the middle of the room was Shade's twisted corpse, dull crimson eyes staring blankly into her shocked amber.
"Oh, no," Majandra whispered as she knelt beside his head and stroked his forehead gently. "Not again. Please, not again."
Majandra? Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Tekkei-maru said gently, blue magic working against the negative red she could feel unbalancing Majandra's Ki in favor of the Demon. There isn't anything we can do for him except pray that his elven soul could enter Arvandor.
He was a good warrior, and a strong companion to you, De- I mean, Majandra. Rekkei-maru added grudgingly. Even Majandra's evil conscience had felt the hurt when Majandra's father was killed, so she could understand the feelings going through her charge.
"I was too late." Majandra murmured as a single tear trickled down her face. "Again. Why am I always too late to save those I care about? Why am I always alone?" that single tear was all she allowed herself to shed as she carefully unbuckled Shade's sword belt and tied it around her waist so the sheath of his katana was parallel to her hips.
"Goodbye, Shade Darkstalker," Majandra bowed formally to her fallen companion and placed a light kiss on his sword hilt. "May you live on forever in the tales of your comrades and the blade of your sword."
"Majandra?" Aribeth called from nearby. "Where are you?" without another glance at the body of her friend, Majandra walked confidently out of the room and into Aribeth's line of sight.
"There you are!" the elven paladin exclaimed as she saw her companion step out of a dark room and acknowledge her presence with a tiny smile. "I was afraid you'd left me alone in there," Aribeth finished with a grin. Both of them knew that between the paladin and the fey'ri, there was enough honor to gorge even the stuffiest cleric.
"Yes, I was definitely planning on leaving my only ally against Nasher and his army of bigots in the lurch." Majandra replied with that crooked grin that both annoyed and attracted Aribeth. Why was she feeling this way towards the beautiful fey'ri when she had Fenthick as an able and willing lover?
"Um, yes, well," Aribeth stuttered as she tried to get her mind off the confusing questions and back to the task at hand. "Shouldn't we move on?"
"Of course." Majandra grinned again and strode off after the flustered paladin.
She likes you, you know? Tekkei-maru said as Majandra whistled the mourning song she couldn't sing over Shade's grave.
Yeah, Majandra replied mentally as she gave the slight woman a once over. I know. Perhaps she'd see this folly out until the end this time. It wasn't everyday someone, much less someone of the same gender, found her appearance attractive. Her experience with romance was near slim to nil after her years on the Planes, though she'd learned the ways of love from the best.
Kaerion
"Good, Pavel, good!" Kaerion laughed heartily as he watched the lad pound skeletons into powder with powerful strokes of his Morningstar.
"Haha, I actually like this, Milord Galadorn!" Pavel replied with a satisfied grin from the havoc he'd reaped on the ones responsible for his brother's death. "Perhaps I am cut out for hero work after all!"
"You never should have doubted yourself in the first place." Kaerion chuckled as another skeleton veritably vaporized from a hard tap. The paladin just didn't have the heart to tell the boy that these lesser skeletons were little more than fodder to slow down armies, not the real deal. He felt the boy should have some taste of vengeance before he could be told otherwise
"Well," Kaerion grunted as he stood up straight from the wall he'd been leaning on while watching the fun. "I think it's about time we moved on. From what you've told me, we just need to get across the large entry way and we'll be in the stables that hold the creatures captive."
"Yes, sir!" Pavel saluted with his powder-covered mace and fell in beside his instant hero without having to be told twice.
"Well," Kaerion said as they stared out at the three goblins and score of skeletons that stood between them and the creatures. "It's now or never."
The small skirmish was over almost before it even began after a single use of Kaerion's turn undead power. The three remaining enemies had, instead of doing the smart thing, raised their weapons and charged the paladin and his semi-squire
"Well," Kaerion said a moment later as he stared disgustedly down at the three goblin corpses. "That was rather short lived. We'd better get to that stable, especially if they made it all the way here already.
The two men ducked into the musty smelling building and were greeted with chaos.
Two men, one older and garbed in Helm's colors and the other younger and dressed as a Tyran, were standing back to back in the middle of the room, fending off a large group of goblin "elites".
The younger, a moon elf with blond hair from the looks of him, turned to Kaerion and called out, "the creatures! Protect them! They mustn't escape!" almost as though his words were prophecy, the gates locking the Waterdhavian creatures in were destroyed by the attackers, and the four creatures almost immediately escaped out the door or through their own wizardry.
"Dammit!" Kaerion cursed as he and the three others cut easily through the goblin group. It seemed that since their duties were done, they were told to simply let the fight end. Of course, the goblins were too stupid to realize surrender was a choice.
"Who are you?" the elven man demanded the moment the last body hit the ground. "And did anyone else make it out of the academy alive?"
"My name is Kaerion Galadorn." Kaerion bowed quickly, hiding a wince as he felt the muscles in his back creak in protest. "This youngster with me is Pavel, and we were sent to guard the Waterdhavian creatures."
"And a right good job you did of it," the older man grumbled sourly as he straightened his red and black robes. "Any earlier and you would've been able to do the deed yourself instead of watch it happen!"
"Don't mind Desther," the younger man responded with a disapproving glare at his counterpart. "It's just the stress, and the fact we lost our only cure in the space of a few seconds! My name is Fenthick, priest of Tyr and consort to the Lady Aribeth."
"I see," Kaerion replied. "Well, Aribeth is the one who sent me, so I suppose you're the one I was to report to."
A few minutes later, Kaerion had agreed to meet Fenthick and the others in the Halls of Justice at the end of the week, where he would be given his next assignment.
"It looks like it's time to start a new chapter in life, Pavel." Kaerion said as they were leaving the ruins of the Academy. "Are you sure you wish to stay by my side and fight for the lives of the people of this city?"
"I'm not sure if I'm hero material," Pavel replied slowly, honestly. "But I'm willing to give it a try in your service. Do you think the temple of Lathander would allow me to change my Tyran allegiance to them?"
"I believe so," Kaerion replied. "I believe so. Now come. We must find an inn to rest, somehow." The two men were swallowed up quickly by the city of Neverwinter, all too aware that their adventure had only just begun.
Majandra
Majandra and Aribeth arrived at the stables after hours of fighting and evading the men that seemed to appear out of nowhere in waves. Finally, when it looked like they were in the clear, the two women had made their way back through the labyrinthine hallways and to the stables.
"No." Aribeth whispered as the wrecked building lay before their eyes. "We were too late. Now, the whole city will suffer because of my blunder." All of the magically sealed stalls were swinging open, and there was evidence of a struggle from the blood on the floor.
"Pull yourself together!" Majandra snarled, and Aribeth's head snapped towards hers with an expression of startled hurt on her face. "We don't have time to place blame or think of what ifs." Majandra continued more gently once she had the paladin's attention. "Now, we must focus our goals on figuring out who was responsible for this and how we're getting the damned things back."
"You're right." Aribeth said after a moment. "Of course you're right. I understand what you mean, and am in perfect agreement. We have no time to lose! We must make haste to the Halls of Justice and rally our remaining forces unto our new goals."
Are you ready for this? Came the combined voices of the Maru's as Majandra watched the determined paladin slip out into the night with a quick gesture for her to follow.
"I was born ready." Majandra replied seriously. She paused in the doorway to look back once and whispered, "Shade, Father, watch over me in this new chapter of my life."
There was an empty silence in the tomb-like academy as the last remaining student slipped out into the night after her companion, wary to the webs of treachery and deceit being woven upon the very air of the city.
A/N: WOAH! That was long! Way long! But you guys deserve all thirty-one pages of this for my long absence. If you were reading closely, you would have caught the less than subtle hints at future pairings, but I'd still like to have your opinions. I'm a big Aarin Gend fan myself, but what's life without a triangle or square thrown into the mix? Next time: (theoretically) Chapter One