A/N: Much thanks to my delightful husband who choreographed much of this fight :D

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

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The Archmage

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"The link... it is severed!"

Ellesime's words carried across the branches of the tree to each of the companions; it was their signal. Immediately they began to retrace their steps, following their ranger and druid guides as they frantically made their way to their destination.

"What?! Who DARES?!"

The voice of Irenicus boomed around them as if he stood by their sides. Maiyn jumped, suddenly finding herself gripped by an immense fear that she had to consciously fight away. To her relief, she realised they were almost back at the stairs, and the others had already arrived, huddling together as they prepared to face the mage's wrath. She rushed to join them, Nalia and Coran close behind, and felt Xan's resist fear cantrip wash over her. She smiled thankfully to him and turned to see a lone woman running towards them, a perfect copy of the hazy figure they'd conversed with earlier.

"He comes," she said breathlessly. "Prepare yourselves."

Maiyn nodded, allowing her to pass as she rushed to the stairs. But instead of leaving; she paused, looking back towards the outer branches. The Queen grew pale, and Maiyn turned slowly; Irenicus was approaching.

"You had to know we wouldn't let you get away," she said, fighting to keep her voice level.

He stopped and stared at her, almost in disbelief. "You... you live yet?! You have less than a fraction of your soul and yet somehow you continue to oppose me?"

"The power of the tree has been taken back from you, Exile," Solen said confidently. "It is time for this to end."

"Oh, I will take great pleasure in eradicating this nuisance," Irenicus declared. "And then I shall re-establish my link, join with the Tree once again... I shall find a way; I shall have the power-"

"No, Joneleth. You shall not."

Irenicus paused, his eyes meeting those of the Queen. Something strange seemed to happen as Maiyn watched him -- the briefest, vaguest hint of emotion seemed to come to his eyes and flash for a mere second, before being completely washed away. When he spoke, his tone was flat.

"Do not call me that. I lost all right to that name when the Seldarine stripped me of everything that was elven, as you well know."

Maiyn heard Xan groan. The confirmation of his worst fears was not coming easy to him.

"And what shall I call you instead?" Ellesime spat back at him. "Irenicus'? 'Shattered One'?" She sighed and shook her head sadly. "Yes... it was a terrible punishment. But you violated everything we hold dear. You nearly destroyed us all by committing this sacrilege, and it has happened twice now. You will not do this again, Joneleth."

"You cannot stop me-"

"I can, and I will," she said firmly. "Why are you doing this? For power? Is that all that you exist for now, Jon?"

"It... is all I have now, Ellesime," the mage replied, his voice faltering slightly for the first time. "There is nothing else beyond my revenge. Revenge for what you did to me, that the Seldarine did to me..."

"And your revenge has poisoned your heart," The Queen stated bitterly. "The Tree touched you once, long ago. Do you remember nothing of it? Is there nothing in your heart that remembers love? Is there nothing within you that remembers our love? What we once shared before this obsession doomed you?"

Coran choked. Maiyn frowned in his general direction.

"I do not remember your love, Ellesime," Irenicus replied simply. "I have tried. I have tried to recreate it, to spark it anew in my memory. But it is gone... a hollow, dead thing. For years, I clung to the memory of it. Then the memory of the memory. And then nothing. The Seldarine took that from me, too. I look upon you and I feel nothing. I remember nothing but you turning your back on me, along with all the others. Once my thirst for power was everything... and now I hunger only for revenge. And... I WILL have it!"

Ellesime stepped back, away from Irenicus, away from the party, and allowed herself to lean on the wall of the stairway that led back to the palace. She looked at her ex-lover with sad eyes as she spoke. "Then I pity you. Would that you had used your stolen mortal years to earn your return to this sacred place. I could have loved you anew, as I loved the man you once were. But I see nothing of him here. You are Irenicus. And all that awaits you now... is death."

She turned and ran up the stairs, leaving the companions to stand against the mage as he watched her turn her back on him once again. Slowly his confidence seemed to return, and the chill in his appearance was there once again.

"We shall see, my former love," he muttered darkly to her departing form. "We shall see." He made one swift gesture with his hands, and at once a transformation took place. His skin turned the colour of stone, and a wave of blue, rippling energy seemed to wash over and shield him. In the next blink of an eye, he'd completely vanished.

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"And so it begins," Hanali stated, her eyes fixed to the pool that relayed the scene of the battle. "One must have some confidence in their success... they outnumber him easily, and they have several extremely competent individuals working together."

"The Exile is a tough opponent," Fenmarel reminded her. "It will not be easy."

"Of course not," she replied lightly. "Oh, look -- he's vanished! How cheeky of him."

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"Dispel his invisibility!" yelled Maiyn, waving frantically as she tried to direct everyone into place. This wasn't how it was meant to happen; they were meant to have the upper hand! Verya stalked past as she looked around herself with barely contained frustration, and soon became the target of the ranger's irritation.

"Go!" she shouted to the cat, causing Verya to give her a reproachful look. "Go! And take that squirrel with you!"

Verya let Yessie bounce onto her back, and stared at Maiyn for another second with a hurt expression, before bounding up the stairs and away from the battle. The elf felt relieved -- she was happier knowing the two creatures were out of harm's way.

She could hear Irenicus' voice as it began another chant, but she could not tell where it came from. Anomen had his eyes closed, beseeching Helm for the gift of true sight while the mages scattered, taking up positions to try and cover as much of the open area as they could. Nalia and Imoen were looking on helplessly, unsure as to what to do while their opponent was hidden from view, while Xan was midway through the familiar conjuration to grant the companions haste in the battle.

"Protect yourselves!" Maiyn heard Jaheira hiss at the two younger girls, who both nodded and began projecting mirrored images while weaving more minor spell protections around themselves.

The next thing Maiyn experienced was an almost overwhelming feeling of nausea and she lost her footing, stumbling to the ground. As she stood up, she was horrified to notice a gleaming sword shooting past her of its own accord, and aiming straight for Imoen. Close behind it, was a now enraged Minsc who seemed to be intent on preventing it from reaching his witch. As if that wasn't enough, Jaheira and Coran had both sunk to their knees, hit by the full force of Irenicus' wilting conjuration, which had left them vulnerable to the attacks coming from his summoned stalkers.

"What..." whispered Anomen, having finished his entreaty to his God; his true sight revealing the archmage still swiftly murmuring the words to yet more spells as the party tried desperately to reform.

"He stopped time," murmured Maiyn darkly. "Get to Irenicus -- I'll help Jaheira."

The knight nodded, charging forward towards the mage as Maiyn entered into melee combat with the closest stalker. To her relief, she could see Solen striking at the other, giving Coran some time to drink a potion of healing. Jaheira was murmuring softly to herself, naturally tending her wounds as quickly as she could.

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"I always thought that stopping time was underhand," Hanali mused, reclining on the bench as she watched the continuing battle. A goblet of wine appeared in her hands, and she looked up to Fenmarel, raising an eyebrow. "Can I get some for you?" she asked.

He glared down at her. He was refusing to sit, pacing around the clearing agitatedly as he watched the battle. The Exile knew exactly what he was doing, and the group had been thrown into disarray almost immediately. It would not do.

"He did make the most of it, though," the goddess continued conversationally. "He has provided distractions to himself; ones that they would be foolish to ignore, and he has shown them just what he is capable of."

"His arcane power is greater than theirs."

Hanali smiled serenely. "His actual power is greater than what they believe they can achieve."

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Imoen didn't like swords. She especially didn't like them when they seemed to be flying through the air straight for her. Swords weren't meant to have lives of their own; Lilarcor was proof positive of that, but at least he could be stuffed in a scabbard for a few hours if they wanted peace and quiet.

To her relief, Minsc seemed to be as annoyed with the magical sword bearing down on her as she was, and she hoped he'd manage to reach it before it got to her. Just in case he didn't, she felt for the hilt of her own shortsword, finding little comfort in realising it was still there. The sword got closer and closer, then abruptly pulled itself back and took an almighty swipe at her. She closed her eyes instinctively -- when she opened them again, there were only six Imoens left.

A few pinkish-purple globes flew over from Imoen's right, ramming into the magical weapon but they had no effect on it at all. She heard Xan calling over to Nalia -- telling the younger girl to concentrate her spellcasting on Irenicus, and to ignore the sword. Imoen almost felt put out by that, but Minsc had managed to engage it by that point, proving to be a fair match for its enchanted prowess.

So Imoen took a few tentative steps backwards, and began casting a spell of her own. Irenicus wasn't the only one who could summon help, after all.

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"The young human girls... there is more to them than meets the eye," Hanali murmured thoughtfully.

Fenmarel regarded his companion sceptically. "One of them, yes," he said. "The other is a Bhaalspawn, remember."

"Oh, yes," Hanali replied. "It's so easy to forget, sometimes. She's so... normal."

"They all are, in the beginning."

"All of them?"

There was a pause. Fenmarel sat down beside Hanali, but he looked as if he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Most of them, then."

"Two Children of Bhaal... against the Exile. Really, it should be a foregone conclusion."

"He has the soul of the stronger Child," Fenmarel reminded her. "That will be affecting it."

"Mmm. Perhaps," the woman acknowledged. "That is, in part, what makes this battle so much fun to watch. It's all so... personal."

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Coran got to his feet, and made the time to dust himself off. He looked once again, rather hatefully, at the sword in his hands. Solen had engaged the creature that Irenicus had summoned to defend himself, and so Coran decided to go straight to the source of all this anguish.

He didn't know what he'd been expecting. He'd heard Imoen talking about him, and about the way they'd been captured by the mysterious mage, and in the end, he'd expected a little bit... more. The mage wasn't particularly tall, and definitely wasn't as honed as the fighters in the group were. He did seem to have some degree of competency in magic, but Coran had always been a firm believer that the sword was mightier than the wand.

So, the elf deftly made his way forward towards Irenicus, dodging past Solen as his elven kinsman landed blow after blow upon the stalker he was fighting. He noticed Jaheira and Maiyn tackling a similar creature slightly further back, and so he moved quickly to try and join Anomen as the priest drew back his weapon ready to strike.

A flash of light engulfed the knight, freezing him in place as Irenicus turned slightly, his attention drifting over to Nalia at the far side of the area. With a grunt, Coran swung the Sword of Chaos as hard as he could, cursing loudly as it bounced harmlessly away from the mage's stoneskin. Undeterred, Coran repeated the swing, desperately trying to crack the protections as soon as he could.

A green glow shimmered around the Exile briefly as Xan's chant finished on a high note, and the grey tinge to the mage's skin was gone. Coran roared with appreciation, pulling his sword back as Irenicus let fly his own cantrip; a pink sphere that smashed into Nalia, having no visible effect. The young girl looked stricken, however, and panic was evident on her face. It was enough to distract Coran, and he mistimed his swing, only just managing to nick Irenicus in the arm.

A golden light flared around the mage as he was hit, and Coran had to shield his eyes from the glare. When he managed to look back, Irenicus had projected mirrors around himself, as well as a globe of charged energy that easily absorbed the acid spell Xan had fired towards him. Coran cursed once again, earning himself a rather poisonous glare from Jaheira as the druid and Maiyn cautiously began approaching, having finished their own foe. Solen was also inching his way towards the mage, waiting for a command from one of the others as he warily eyed their enemy.

At Maiyn's slight nod, Coran launched himself forward, letting his sword cleave through the air and into the side of Irenicus. His initial joy at avoiding the mirrored images was short-lived as his blow turned out to be completely ineffective against the mage's magical defences. Various cries of dismay were heard as the group wondered how to penetrate the protections, and the fighters drew back slightly as Imoen yelled a warning.

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"Oh dear," Hanali said. "The Exile protects himself from both their magic and their force."

Fenmarel's fist was clenched tightly as he watched. He was not enjoying this one bit, and Hanali's laid-back attitude was beginning to really get on his nerves. Instead of responding to her, though, he merely tried to ignore her as well as he could, watching as the group shifted around, unable to work out a way to hurt their enemy.

"My own is passionate, is he not?" she asked, a slight hint of pride in her voice. "He has dedicated himself to the fight, and he will be undeterred by the obstacles in his way. This is his chance to gain his own revenge on the one who hurt the keeper of his affection."

Fenmarel's eyes narrowed as he peered at his companion. "You promised you would not interfere-" he began.

"And I am not!" she exclaimed, frowning at him. "Whether you want to believe it or not, his feelings run as true without my guidance as they do with my... encouragement. You will see."

Fenmarel grunted.

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The Efreeti cackled manically as it swept past, brandishing its sword at Irenicus. Xan watched as it went straight up to the enemy, making absolutely no difference to the situation, except for adding even more colour than Coran could manage to the scene. Irenicus was still chanting; Xan was not familiar with the words, but he had a terrible feeling of foreboding about the way that the mage's voice was becoming higher and higher. Suddenly, it turned into an almighty wailing shriek, and the Efreeti screamed in agony as it disappeared in a flash of light.

The others were not faring any better; Maiyn had put her hands over her ears, and was reversing back as quickly as she could. Unfortunately, Anomen was in her way, and she only succeeded into knocking the still paralysed body of the priest over, then tripping over him herself.

To Xan's dismay, Jaheira crumpled to the ground lifeless. Coran and Solen were also pulling away from the range as well as they could, stumbling alongside each other as they tried to fight the effect of the sound. The enchanted reached into his pack, pulling out his old scroll-case and leafing through the parchments inside as quickly as he could. He had not looked at many of these spells for several years, always believing them to be beyond his capability, but his demonstration earlier was causing him to rethink his competency. He found the scroll he wanted, and pulled it free from the others, standing back up as he grabbed the necessary components from his pocket.

With a determined clearing of his throat, Xan began the words of the spell strike.

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"And so, Corellon's own begins to realise the power that has been available to him for many years," Hanali observed.

"At least he didn't need to lose his wife, or find himself brainwashed into loving someone he would normally have walked right past," Fenmarel replied bitterly. Hanali threw him an amused look.

"I can tell by your tone that you disapprove of things that have happened. But can you? Really?"

"Yes," he stated abruptly.

"If you are sure," she shrugged, turning back to the pool to watch the battle. "You are not as innocent in all this as you might think. You decided to accept her as a cleric of your cause when you knew what she was. You did so because you were as intrigued by the unavoidable Bhaalspawn wars as we all are."

"She was my faithful servant. I gave her nothing I do not give others."

"You do not turn everyone who prays in your name into one of your priests," Hanali remarked with a raised eyebrow. "Plenty offer tribute to you, and follow their paths and professions without benefiting from your divine gifts. By naming her as one of your clerics, you were able to avoid the attention that would otherwise have been focussed on your... relationship with her."

Fenmarel grit his teeth. "Who I choose to serve me as a cleric is my own business."

"Of course," she replied lightly. "Most of your followers are the feral members of our People, and most tend to be woodwalkers... your clerics, until Maiyn, were always those who seemed to be lacking a clear path. You gave it to them. She... she had a path, and an affinity for the tenets of the way of a Forest Guardian. I know you chose her because of what she is."

Fenmarel stood up and he stalked away, not acknowledging the goddess' words at all. Together, they continued to watch the battle.

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Nalia watched in horror as the mage displayed his invulnerable status, and then as Jaheira fell to the ground; the first casualty of the battle. Her voice would not come, though, no matter how hard she tried to invoke her spells, or cry out warnings to the others. She'd been rendered useless by the mage, and there was nothing she could do for the group except watch as they were slowly decimated.

Her hands rested on the hilt of her small shortsword as she leaned against the trunk weakly. There had to be something that she could do... there were spells, of course, that could reverse the curse, but she'd never thought she'd need them. If they survived this, she'd make an extra effort to look into that particular area of study.

Her fingers drummed against the cold steel, quickly at first, then becoming slower and slower as she realised one thing she could do. Hesitantly, she pulled the sword free from her belt and moved down the branch towards Imoen, managing to tap Minsc on the shoulder and evade his rather wild attack as he turned to face his transgressor.

She opened her mouth to tell him to go and help the others, before realising how pointless that would be. So instead, she pointed at her sword, waved it around a few times, and then pointed at the enchanted blade that was jabbing Imoen's mirrors at that particular point in time. Minsc gave her a rather strange look, and she sighed silently.

"She's telling you to go and help the others," came Imoen's voice as the other girl appeared, being chased by the sword; she gave Minsc an almighty shove, pushing him towards Irenicus as she drew her own sword and stood by Nalia's side, ready to face off against the magical blade. Minsc looked uncertain for a moment, and Imoen pointed over to Jaheira's body.

"Go and help!" she repeated. "We just need to keep this thing busy until the spell runs out!"

The berserker nodded, turning away and roaring in rage as he dashed off with Larry in the air. Nalia smiled over to Imoen weakly, and then adopted her best defensive stance. The sword had paused, assessing them both for a moment, before launching itself at them once again.

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It will be concluded soon," Hanali said gently. "I fear... I fear that Exile may be too powerful."

"It is not over yet," Fenmarel replied gruffly. "She is strong -- she can defeat him, especially with the aid of her comrades."

"One has already fallen," Hanali pointed out. "His arcane power is still relatively untapped because of what he is. It will take time for Corellon to remove all the benefits he stole from the Tree of Life, and until then, he will have more spellcasting ability than they could possibly imagine."

"She has the taint."

"You would want her to use it?"

Fenmarel shrugged. "If it can save her life, then it would be foolish not to," he said calmly. "She is aware of the dangers surrounding it."

"The presence... it is still there?"

"The essence of the dead human god has taken the place of her soul," he sighed. "I had hoped that her spirit returning to her would mean the corruption of His influence removed forever, but..."

"But?"

Fenmarel smiled humourlessly as he looked at Hanali. "But since the taint has now discovered the way to work around the soul being in place, I don't have much hope left."

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Maiyn choked as the air was stripped dry around her, and it felt as if her body was being cooked. Solen and Coran had managed to be less affected by the repeated arid attack, though even they were coughing and searching through their pockets for vials of healing. Maiyn desperately tried to pull the cork from her own healing potion as she sat on the branch, aware that Irenicus was slowly moving towards her. Minsc rushed past, oblivious to the fact that he could not penetrate the mage's defences, and he was ignored as the Exile looked down at her.

Inside Maiyn was in turmoil. The taint was not happy at all with her progress, and it was all she could do to try and block her father's angry roars as he demanded she utilise the powers he'd gifted her. She refused; she would not use the Slayer's form again, not even if her life looked as it might depend upon it.

Another flash of light engulfed Irenicus -- when the glare had died down, his globe of energy had disappeared, and his mirrors had vanished. The golden aura that had infused his form was also absent, and as Minsc turned to deliver another blow to him, he raised his hand and pointed at her, uttering one single word.

"Die."