General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.

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Regaining Suldanessellar

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The rakshasa spoke a word of power and a thick cloud quickly formed in the room, spilling its noxious gasses as it billowed past the fighters.

Xan groaned. High Priestess Demin was already badly injured, and had only been saved from an apparently imminent death by Jaheira's actions combined with his spells of haste and strength upon her; the druid had thrown herself between two of the formidable opponents, letting her ironskins absorb their blows as she carried the elf away.

One of Elhan's men was chanting; thankfully there were other priests and priestesses of Rillifane that were uninjured, but it would take time for the counter-spell to take effect. Xan's fingers rummaged through his components for what seemed like a lifetime before they settled on what he sought. Quickly, he began uttering the words; slowly and carefully, a spell he was not overly familiar with, and unwilling to miscast in such a confined space.

He managed a shout of warning before the beams leapt from his fingers, a rainbow of colours as they struck their foes and caused them to stagger with the confusion at the magical onslaught, even if there seemed to be little other effect. It was all Elhan's men needed, though; leaping back into the fray and finishing off the rakshasa before they could do any more harm.

He turned to face Jaheira; the half-elf was praying, her eyes closed and her head bowed as her hands lay gently on Demin's shoulders. If he concentrated enough, he could see the faint blue glimmer of healing coursing through the druid's arms and swirling into the priestess' frame; the faint residue of magic, not arcane as his own was, but still quite supernatural. It wasn't long before Rillifane's High Priestess was able to open her own eyes, and slowly sit up with the help of Elhan's men. Jaheira graciously made way for them, but there was no mistaking the frustration in her eyes as they almost completely ignored her presence. To Xan's relief, Demin was different.

"Thank you, my children," she whispered, smiling to them, then signalling for them to move away so she could see better. She was beautiful, even for an elf, with long brown hair that curled in ringlets as it cascaded down her back, resting on the simple, white robe she wore. Her eyes drifted over Xan – she nodded her head almost imperceptibly at him – and then looked straight into Jaheira's eyes.

"Thank you, sister, for your aid," she said, her voice returning stronger, slowly. "Your intervention was timely, indeed; and your courage exposes your adventuring background. You must be the ones who retrieved the Lanthorn?"

"Indeed, we are," Jaheira agreed, her voice much softer than Xan would have expected. "We have come to…"

"You have your own reasons for aiding us, I know," Demin interrupted gently. "It is our fortune that it is so – for now our city may still have salvation from the torturous touch of the drow."

"We would have helped even if we did not have our own business linked to this," Xan said with a sigh. Jaheira nodded her agreement, and Demin turned to look at him. Her green eyes locked with his, and for a moment he felt breathless; as if his whole mind had been left exposed for her to check through, as if he wanted to tell her everything about himself. She smiled slightly at his look of surprise.

"Welcome, Defender of the People," she said. "It would, of course, be your duty to have come to our aid; but I know you did not mean your words as such, and so they have all the more meaning."

"Priestess Demin," Elhan interrupted. "We need your help. My sister..."

She nodded to him. "The temple is sealed, my Prince, and the Exile controls it. I was attempting to lift the magic he has cocooned it within when the drow came, overrunning the streets while our minimal forces tried to hold them at bay. It was only with the visions granted to us in our prayers that we knew you had not fallen at the Temple; that we still had our People, though they became lost to us as our city was removed from existence by the theft of the Lanthorn."

"The Moonblade Wielder and his companions found the Lanthorn," Elhan said calmly. "The sister had it, buried deep within the Amnish city we suspected. Our men have returned to secure the city."

"Then the first step has been taken," Demin smiled. "But still there is the temple. The Exile-"

"The Exile that you promised I would be told about," Xan interrupted. "And tell me, when exactly were you going to tell us that they were once elves themselves?"

Elhan visibly flinched, but Xan's gaze stayed on Demin as she watched him with thoughtful eyes, the finger from one hand resting delicately below her lower lip. At length she nodded, turning away and walking to the window, where she gazed out and down at the battle-ravaged city.

"The Exiles were not always as you know them now," she said softly. "They once had names that I would have been proud to speak, and were as worthy as any other of praise. But they committed unspeakable crimes against us -- against their own kin -- and they were banished from our society... from our People."

Xan stared at her with incredulity. "What crime was so great to deserve such a fate?"

"She and He were well known in the elven court of Suldanessellar," Demin sighed sadly. "He, at least, was a great asset to our kind and kin -- he was the greatest of our mages, as skilled as any of elven blood could be without divine assistance. He even had the favour of the Queen. It was not enough." She paused, turning to look back at them, a sorrowful look in her eyes. "Of the two, the 'sister' was the insatiable one. She was not as regarded, but she held great influence over her 'brother,' and pulled him into her madness. Together they sought more than was possible; they wished the power of the gods, and they were not concerned about the consequences."

"The Seldarine?" Xan gasped. "No... Surely not..."

The priestess nodded. "He of the Exiles performed a dark ritual, and committed a grave offence against the greatest symbol of our longevity: the Tree of Life. He sought to merge his essence with the divine tree, draining it and stealing its energy. He failed, but there was a price to pay for the rest of us."

"What happened?" Jaheira asked sharply.

Demin closed her eyes. "He disrupted the elven connection to land and nature. There was a great shock that ran through Suldanessellar, and many of our weaker citizens lay near death. That he would endanger so many for he and his sister's selfish goals was one thing, but to threaten the very nature of what makes us who we are was unfathomable."

"It fell to my sister, Queen Ellesime, to judge his crime," Elhan noted. "She acted as she had to."

"She was… harsh," Demin stated carefully. "Having forsaken everything elven, they were to be outcast so they might learn how precious our ways are. Of spiritually high regard, our Queen petitioned the gods and a divine curse was placed upon the Exiles. All their connection to the elven spirit was severed."

"My sister thought it a punishment worse than death," Elhan continued quietly. "A life no longer than a human's, and their elven spirits banished from the paradise all Elvenkind are entitled to. The price they were to pay for their actions."

"And so Bodhi has turned to vampirism to counter the effects," Jaheira mused.

"The divine are not fooled so easily," Demin replied. "Her transformation has not been as she expected, and she will not avoid her fate with the route she takes."

"And Irenicus seeks a wholly different path," Jaheira muttered darkly.

"A better man would have learned to appreciate what he had lost," Demin agreed. "Perhaps learning humility and seek to make amends. He has not proven to be a 'better man.'"

"No, he has not," Xan replied dryly. He found his hand gripping the hilt of his moonblade tightly as he spoke, and he tried to lessen his grasp; tried to relax slightly. "He has taken the soul of my... our companion, as his sister did to her sister."

Demin's eyebrow rose. "Then that is the way he found to restore himself."

"And now he has made a pact with our most despised enemies, and resumed his original plot!" exclaimed Elhan.

"The plight of our companion is at least comparable to your own troubles," Jaheira said coldly in the prince's direction. His eyes flashed angrily as he looked over to her, but he said nothing.

"I have no way to accurately measure the cost of our decisions on you and your companion," Demin said quietly. "Reparations will be made, if there is anyone left here to make them. Your companion... he is not with you?"

"...She is not... no," Xan said hoarsely. "She... she will come. When..."

"When she can," Jaheira finished firmly for him. "For now, we must ensure that Irenicus does not succeed in whatever he is attempting -- though it looks as if reaching him will be difficult. We can, at least, aid you with the drow problem."

"They are group of exiles helping another, both so full of their petty hatred and jealousy that they would stop at nothing to strike at our hearts," Demin sighed. "The Exile brought to the city magical constructs and demons, and a... a black dragon, which landed in our clearing. I was trying to fight, but there were too many. So many have already fallen..."

"We need to reach my sister," Elhan said gently, moving over to touch the priestess' arm gently. The contact seemed to shake her from the melancholy that had enveloped her at the memory of the battles, and she offered him a sad smile.

"There is a way, perhaps," she said, frowning slightly. "The temple is dedicated to Rillifane Rallathil. He can summon the spirit defenders of the forest to protect us... and has the power to break the seal on the palace."

"Then we must away there with all haste!" Elhan declared.

"No..." Demin said, shaking her head. "It is not so easy, my Prince. The Leaflord must be awakened, his avatar summoned, in order for the spirits to come. The Exile's creatures have desecrated the temple and stolen the artefacts I need."

"Where are they?" Jaheira asked.

"I do not know," the priestess admitted. "There is a talisman of Rillifane, a cup, and a... a moonblade." She smiled wryly to Xan. "We have had our own Defenders, through the ages."

"Then we shall locate these," stated the druid determinedly.

"The goblet was golden, a chalice of elven life," Demin added. "I suspect it was part of the tithe offered to the dragon for its services, as it is an intelligent beast and will not be here at the simple behest of the drow."

"This moonblade..." Xan began hesitantly. "It is... it is dormant?"

The priestess shook her head. "Unless its wielder has fallen in the battle, it was as alive as the one you carry. He was defending the city, though... I do not know where you would find him now."

"What about the talisman?" Jaheira asked.

"It should be safely held in the House of the Talisman," Demin said with confidence. "You -- the Wielder." Her eyes turned to Xan. "You will know the secret to securing it. Get it before the drow can cause any further destruction to our home!"

The enchanter just nodded, following Jaheira as she swiftly left the house, a grim expression on her face. Elhan followed them; his men close behind, before he paused, looking back hesitantly.

"I should stay with the Priestess-"

"Then stay," Jaheira interrupted sharply. "Your men can come with us; assuming that they would be able to acknowledge my existence and accept my orders?"

Elhan stiffened. "Your aid is appreciated, outsider, but-"

"But nothing," Xan cut in. "Jaheira is an accomplished, intelligent and strong woman. You'd be a fool to let your prejudices interfere with your judgement."

The other elves exchanged wary glances, hovering uncertainly behind their prince as he obviously tried not to glare at the mage. Eventually he let out a long sigh and threw his hands up in defeat.

"Follow the half-elf and the Wielder as they order," he said coldly, heading back into the Demin's home. "You know your objective -- your loyalty lies to the city."

Jaheira gave Xan an incredulous look. He shook his head wearily, rubbing one of his temples with his hand as she let out a mirthless laugh.

"The elf seems to be unable to pronounce my name," she noted dryly.

"It can be quite tricky," Xan muttered, stopping abruptly as he noticed the druid's glare. "But we should move on with this futile attempt." He looked around; there were still faint sounds of fighting coming from other areas of the city. Elhan's men would have to be able to contain the surviving enemies as much as they could to allow their own small force to enable a way into the palace. Only then could the city be properly freed.

"How far is the House of the Talisman?" Jaheira asked the assembled elves. Some of them shuffled their feet, and most of them stayed silent, though a few were brave enough to mutter incomprehensibly. The druid folded her arms and tapped her foot.

"If none of you can answer me, then we shall not progress far at all."

"It is not far," said one, suddenly. Xan remembered his name as Solen, the one who had moved to defend Jaheira before. "This way -- you can see it from here," he continued, moving over to stand beside an ivy-covered walkway, waving with his hand as he pointed to another cluster of tree-homes a little way away.

"Then we shall head there first," Jaheira said firmly. "The moonblade wielder-"

"Belegir Redleaf," Solen interrupted helpfully. Xan tried to hide his smile as Jaheira threw him a half-glare, half-bemused glance.

"Where does he live?" she asked him, now completely ignoring the silent masses.

Solen frowned slightly. "He is unlikely to be at home," he noted reproachfully. "He will be at the heart of our defences, I would imagine..."

"Is there any chance he could be locked inside the palace?" Xan asked, a sudden feeling of hopelessness coming over him.

Solen gave him a pained look. "There is... a possibility..."

Xan groaned. Jaheira rolled her eyes and marched up to the enchanter, prodding him harshly in the ribs and causing him to yelp in pain.

"You have a blade of your own," she pointed out. "Can the ritual not accept it?"

The assembled elves all widened their eyes as one. Even Xan found himself staring at the druid. "Well..." he began.

She raised en eyebrow expectantly at him.

"We do not know what the ritual shall involve," Xan continued, fidgeting slightly. "It may, ah, consume the items as a sacrifice, or it may draw out the powers of the sword, and…"

"And?"

"And take the power of its wielder, too, if he is there," Xan sighed.

Jaheira nodded slowly. "That would... not be good," she said, much to the enchanter's relief. "We shall keep an eye out for this Belegir, then. He must be within the city somewhere, and we must hope he has not found himself trapped somewhere we cannot reach."

The elves nodded and followed the druid as she marched off in the direction of the House of the Talisman. Xan closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with one of his hands as he wondered, once again, why the Seldarine had chosen him to become involved in all this.

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"By Silvanus..." Jaheira's uttering was barely a whisper as she stood side-by-side with Xan, surveying the destruction before them.

"Not even those who sought refuge inside were spared," he noted sadly. They'd entered the House of the Talisman to find several defaced elven corpses strewn around amongst pools of blood. There were no drow casualties to the enchanter's dismay -- every single victim appeared to be a defenceless citizen of the forest city.

The other elves were carefully examining the fallen, looking for any signs of identity. Some found jewellery; some were able to find specific tattoos. Only one or two were recognisable merely by glancing at their face. One of them was a child, probably barely old enough to understand the meaning of the hatred that had claimed his life. The discovery of his body had chilled Xan's heart; he pushed the futility of the task from his mind as best as he could, and found a renewed determination inside. He had a duty. He would do all he could to help Suldanessellar, and to protect those who lived within its safety.

"Over here." Jaheira had moved away, examining a small box that she'd found on a shelf. The rest of the house had been turned upside down, and even this small compartment showed signs of ill-treatment. There were a few small dents on the surface around several small plates that were raised slightly. Although a lot of the paint had eroded away by what seemed to be acid, Xan still recognised the pictures and could identify the runes. He nodded to the druid, taking it into his own hands and studying the layout intently.

"This here," he murmured, his finger tracing lightly across the image in the top left corner, "is the Rune of Corellon Larethian. But you know that, don't you?"

Jaheira smiled wryly and nodded.

"And this," his fingers moved to the right, "is the mark of Rillifane Rallathil. Note the curve of the trunk and the vibrancy of the leaves..." He coughed slightly, realising how dreamy his tone must have sounded. It felt to him like a lifetime since he'd last held something so beautiful in his hands, despite its damage; but he knew he had no time to feel nostalgic or sentimental.

"What about that?" Jaheira pointed to another arborous picture.

"The Tree of Life," Xan said easily. "And the symbol of water to let it grow, so it in turn can feed this..." He pointed to the final rune. "Suldanessellar."

Jaheira nodded silently as he began to push the runes. First Corellon, then Rillifane; then Water, the Tree, and the city. There was a gentle click, and Xan slowly opened the lid. Inside lay a tiny amulet; a beautiful rendition of Rillifane's symbol, painted and carved with an expertise that caused Xan to catch his breath. Even Jaheira looked slightly awed by the small ornament.

"We have our talisman," he said softly.

"And now we must move on," she replied, looking around at the bodies again. "You!" The elf she addressed looked up to her, the sadness of the scene still etched clearly onto his face. "Go to Elhan," she continued, her voice becoming much gentler. "Tell him of the carnage we discovered, and see if there are any free to help tend the fallen."

The elf nodded at her, swiftly moving from the home without a single word. Xan watched as Elhan's other men slowly moved away from the bodies, readying themselves to move on; preparing to put the sights they'd seen to one side in their duty to the city. Jaheira nodded to them.

"Let us avenge these victims, and every other in the city, by ensuring we succeed at our task," she said firmly. There were mumbled words of agreement, and the elves looked more determined. Bows and swords were griped more tightly, eyes were raised from the floor to glare towards the outside. The druid wasted no more time with words, leading the way back out to the platforms and walkways of the city, the elven fighters following her while Xan brought up the rear. He stole one final glance back at the house and the destruction within, then sighed. It was with a heavy heart that he moved away.

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They fought trolls and golems mainly, clearing a way through the city. Occasionally they'd see another group of fighters from General Sovalidaas' unit who would relate what information they'd gauged to their elven comrades. Daylight was beginning to fail, and the fear was that although the majority of the enemy forces had been defeated by the arrival of the Prince's men, the drow reinforcements would still have enough allies to keep their control over the majority of the city.

"We need to find the wyrm," Jaheira noted grimly, looking around at the elves still following her. Only a handful were injured, but even less had any healing left in them. It would not be an easy fight. "Solen," she continued. "Go quickly -- see if the General or your Prince can spare any others to aid us."

The eager elf nodded, darting off without question. Xan was less sure of the druid's decision.

"Is this wise?" he asked.

"We need to face it, as well you know. Not only could it be the biggest threat left to this place, but it likely holds one of the objects we greatly require."

The enchanter sighed, defeated. "You are right, of course. I worry about our chances, however."

Jaheira smiled at him. "You would not be Xan if you did not see the worst outcome in an endeavour," she pointed out, making him grimace slightly. "But we have a very good chance. We have faced a dragon before, after all, and we will have plenty fighting alongside us who are skilled with weapon and spells. And speaking of the arcane..."

"I have some ability left," he said, answering her unasked question. "Not enough to comfortably face such a mighty foe, but..." He sighed. "Well, the Gods prefer to see us struggle, it seems."

Jaheira nodded her agreement. "It shall soon be over," she said quietly. "We will have most of the pieces we need to enter the temple. We shall only need to find the moonblade wielder-"

"Or his corpse," Xan interrupted dolefully.

"-and then Demin can perform the ritual to free the spirits." Jaheira looked at him curiously. "Have you ever witnessed the spirits of the forest before?"

"No," he admitted, "though I have heard tales of their magnificence and beauty. It should be... quite a sight."

Jaheira nodded thoughtfully. "And then, there will be no option but to enter the Palace."

"What of the others?"

"I... I have hope that they will arrive soon. Truly, I expected them to have arrived by now, but... but..."

"They will be on their way," Xan replied. He didn't know why he was so sure of it, but for once... he was.

Jaheira's eyebrow rose in a magnificent display of wonderment. "You should try this optimistic mindset more often, enchanter," she chuckled. "It could come to suit you."

He muttered darkly under his breath, ignoring her continued amusement. The sun could only just be seen across the tops of the trees in the distance, dangerously close to the horizon. Their time was limited; but thankfully Solen appeared not too long after, more than a dozen elves following him.

"We go," Jaheira announced, turning and leading the way to the platform that Solen had pointed out to her. Before she descended the ladders down into the clearing, she allowed everyone to cast their preparation spells, doing likewise herself. When everyone was glowing, with lights of green or blue or purple -- and sometimes even a strange mixture of all three -- they quietly began to descend into the wyrm's lair.

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The battle was bloody, but the numbers of the elves was the factor that turned the fight to their favour. A plentiful tithe was located, and Solen identified the cup that they required from dozens that had been piled onto the hoard. He was one of four elves who accompanied Jaheira and Xan as they returned up to the city, the other elves breaking back into groups preparing to patrol the platforms in the night, or staying behind to tend the wounded before also moving back to defend against the expected drow invasions.

"There are some of the injured men at the city entrance," Solen said to Jaheira as he walked by her side. "They have been fighting here since our troubles began, and they may know of Belegir's location."

Jaheira nodded her approval at the idea, allowing him to lead them down the winding paths that went past various homes and buildings. They encountered no resistance -- General Sovalidaas and his men had worked tirelessly to eliminate the threat to their home, and now the biggest worry was the re-appearance of the drow soldiers while the elves were injured and tired.

And so they made their way quickly, and Solen wasted no time when they arrived; moving between his comrades as he sought the information that could lead them to their final object. Jaheira and Xan found themselves standing off to one side again; the druid watching the elven man quickly gather the details they needed, while Xan looked around worriedly as twilight began to take its hold. It was a minute before either of them noticed the squirrel sitting in the middle of the platform, looking at them with large, black, beady eyes.

"I'm glad at least some of nature's creatures can be so relaxed," Xan muttered, looking away again before a niggling sensation entered his mind. Slowly he returned his gaze to the rodent. It was still staring at them, its whiskers twitching frantically.

"There is something... unnatural about this creature," Jaheira said, her hand lowering to the hilt of her weapon. "It... it does not act as it should..."

"No, wait," Xan said quietly, reaching out to stay the druid's weapon hand. "You are right -- this is no ordinary animal. I can sense the magic on it, and if I didn't know better... if I didn't know better, I'd say it was a-"

His words were rudely cut off by a cheerful voice, sounding completely out of place in the war-ravaged city, but still managing to cause both the enchanter and the druid to be washed over with a feeling of relief and happiness.

"There you are, Yessie!" Imoen bounded into view, virtually melting into appearance as she passed through Suldanessellar's magical barriers. The squirrel chattered and bounced over to the girl, clambering up her body until it was perched on her backpack, still eyeing Xan and Jaheira with a hint of distrust.

".. A familiar," Xan finished, groaning slightly. Imoen looked over at the sound of his voice, and squealed in delight, rushing over to hug them both.

"They're here!" she yelled, Xan still in her embrace. He flinched at her volume, especially with his ears in such close proximity to her mouth at the time. When she finally released him, he managed to look up. Standing there watching him with a delighted smile was Maiyn, Verya stalking past her silently. Anomen and Minsc stood at either side, and behind them were another two figures. Xan's initial spark of joy was quickly dampened, even though he'd known and expected their arrival.

"Coran, Nalia!" Jaheira exclaimed, moving forward to Maiyn but also noticing the others. "It is good to see you all again."