Several other voices rang out behind Arie. But at this point she was deaf to them. All she could feel was the pulsing from her hand where it had slammed into the stone and the echo of a death. It thumped through her weakly but it was enough that there might be something else. She Then she reached into herself and cast her blue-green fire out over the corpse. The way to death opened before her and she began down the path. She charged down ignoring the burning sensation that was coming from her wrist.

"Come!" She commanded; her voice echoed down the path ahead her. Then at the very end a figure staggered toward her as if they were being dragged on a chain. Fire rippled through her wrist dragging out a hiss of pain. Tears welled up in Arie's eyes, but she continued to pull on her Gift. A tether of blue-green rope spanned from her to the staggering figure, like a fish on a line. "Come!"

The path between her and her query was suddenly blocked by a black cloaked figure. The Dark God.

"Stop, Arie." His words though spoken softly seemed to echo through, growing louder and louder until they felt like they would break her very bones. She was not afraid, the opposite in fact, she felt her rage kindled to life.

"Why?" She spat the words at her father. The man- no the God who had never cared for her. He abandoned her and her mother to this world and only seemed to call on either of them when they tarried in his domain with souls of the dead or dying.

"This is against the order of the world."

Arie felt her rage spike and she screeched, "But making mom come back wasn't? What's the God damn difference?"

"Arie."

"No!" Her ears were roaring now. How dare he stand in her way now. After what he and sister tried to pull. After they used her mother. "You know nothing! You and all of the Gods above and below can go fuck a blighted dog. You lot asked everything of us and care nothing for the carnage you leave in your wake. Now that it is convenient, you bend the rules as you please to fuck a mortal. But when you might do some actual good and have actual consequences, you shove the responsibility off onto someone else. Your own daughter!" Her eyes burned as she gestured to herself. She could feel her Gift surging forward with her stirred emotions. It roared like an infernal beast and snapped at the God. Her father didn't even flinch as swept around him.

"Arie, your sister's magic is d-."

"Who cares! The result is the same." She cackled bitterly. "Oh wait, that's right it is different." She smiled sardonically at the one who blocked her way. "I'll have to suffer reburying mom! What do I care about this bastard's soul." She gestured to the soul stuck on the edge of her magic writhing and squirming. "He has help spread this dog shit poison and liked it! My mother, your lover," She refused to say wife, he didn't deserve that courtesy, and her mother didn't deserve that humiliation. "Was a healer. She was kind to everyone! She is worth a hundred of him." Her throat was becoming raw from her screams and she tasted iron in her mouth.

The God of Death loomed over her. Had he suddenly gotten taller, Arie wondered, or had he unleashed his own power to counter hers. She didn't know but her rage was cooling. The cold was spreading from her limbs and traveling inward to her core. The blue-green fire of her magic still swirled about her father. Bits of his robe seemed threadbare as if it was aging.

"Daughter, you must let go. You are too connected to me. My curse is affecting you."

Curse? Arie tried to speak but the words refused to leave her throat. Even breathing was becoming hard. Her vision narrowed on the Dark God. He reached out to her, heedless of her magic which was still biting at him. Hands that were like fire reached out to her. Had she fallen, Arie wondered. Pain lanced through her arm as the wrist with the ribbon was bumped. It felt like the barbed fangs of some venomous beast were ripping through her flesh. A sob ripped from her lips. Her Gift seem to gutter like a candle in the breeze then scattered. Icey hands clawed through her veins. She shivered with the cold and felt sweat drip from the heat. She gasped and her vision darkened completely leaving only vague sensations. The feeling of swaying, and the distant murmur of voices that she couldn't quite catch.

The bitterness in Arie seemed to be pulled and yanked up like someone was pulling at a bramble vine lodged in her heart. It would have left bloody gauges had it been real. But it did pull a weak sob from her. "I hate you." She whimpered at her father. "You left and I hate you." A gentle hand patted her head.

"I know, but it is time for you to return. Don't come back this way unless it is for something you truly value."

The words fat chance died in her mouth. Everything was spinning and churning. Her guts heaved threatening to spill her breakfast everywhere; this was followed be a myriad of other sensations. Another person's Gift washed over her, but her mind was so fuzzy she couldn't say who. Her wrist burned like red hot metal had wrapped around it, trying to scorch her to her bones. There was murmured words that were clearly distant swears, even if Arie couldn't make out the words themselves, the tone was plain enough. Damp fabric brushed over her skin though it felt more like serrated knifes over already tender flesh. More chatter that Arie couldn't make heads or tails of. Then there were several pairs of hands on her. Her already ruined flesh felt as if they were attempting to peel what was left off. A scream was wrenched from her tightly clenched jaw.

Someone swore; an understatement in Arie's mind.

Then she was suddenly floating in water. The temperature managed to be both too hot and too cold. She shivered so hard her teeth chattered. Out of the blue, a soft floral smell filled her nose, with the faintest touch of magic. The pain, cold, and heat all eased to almost unnoticeable levels and the haziness in her mind increased like a fog rolling in.

"..ie."

".rie."

"Arie." The faint voice called from deeper in the fog. It was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Who's there?" Come to think of it, where is here, Arie wondered. The voice only answered by repeating her name, no urgency or malice in it. Finally, she shrugged and did the only thing she could, follow the voice. Perhaps, that would allow her to figure out what was going on. Vague shapes and low voices appeared in the fog, but when Arie move toward them they disappeared. Frustration swirled in her. What was this, she wanted to yell. Just then an archway appeared in front her. This time it didn't disappear. Instead, a soft light issued from it. Arie stepped closer to peer at it. It was made of impossible smooth white stone, like marble. But no marble she had ever seen had veins of rainbow light and flecks of starlight. The whole thing was cut from one stone, and the artist hadn't felt the need to carve anything into it. Odd, why was this here, but then again, Arie still wasn't even sure where here was. She sighed and decided to step through the archway.

The light flared, blinding her as she stepped through. When she had blinked away the tears, she was standing in a well-furnished room. Rich carpets, well-stuffed armchairs, delicate tables, fine tableware were set out in what looked to be a noble reception room. Not unlike the one that Lady Judith had attached to her chambers. The difference was in the stone walls. The stone was pale white. The palace in Corus. How had she gotten here, Arie pondered.

"My lady Josiane, are you sure? If you allow this humble servant, I will fetch the artifacts of the Gods for you." A small sniveling voice groveled. Arie turned with a start as two people came in room from behind a tapestry. The man was holding the fabric back was talking to a beautiful young woman. Her golden locks were pulled up in courtly fashion, her face had makeup perfectly applied to reflect a dainty maiden. But something about the way she smiled at the simpering man, made Arie's skin crawl. There was madness buried in the depths of that pretty face.

"My dear Ark," she caressed the man's face. "If you leave then who will keep me company? How will I ever be safe without you."

The man blushed, terribly flustered at her softly cooed words and her brazen touch. His eyes flashed with the heat of desire. Arie got the feeling the young woman knew exactly what was on the man's mind. It felt like she had been carefully stoking that flame for some time now. Again, Arie's skin crawled and she shuddered. These two really were a pair made a twisted God.

"Your wish is my greatest desire."

The pretty woman's bright red lips spread in the most maidenly smile. It was a smile that would make one think she naïve to men's desire, but it was not unlike some of the courtesans that Arie had once known when they were drawing in 'fresh' patrons. "Oh, are you sure? I am not too troubling for you?" Arie nearly gagged, while Ark looked positively delighted that he might receive some small kernels of affection from this woman.

"I will do anything for you, princess."

Josiane managed to make her face flush with blush, but her eyes remained cold. "Anything?" She asked demurely.

"Anything!"

"Do you think," she shook her head. "No, that would be far too much to ask of you."

"No, no! Anything for you."

She made a show of looking conflicted before hesitantly asking, "Could you assist Lord Rodger with his experiments?" Ark's expression fell instantly. It was plain to anyone that young prince and this man were anything but friends. Lady Josiane's pretty face fell into a somber expression and she pouted, "See, it was too much. Think nothing of it."

Ark swallowed his pride and shook his head firmly. "Your wish is my command, my lady. Shall I go now?"

"Please, it would be very helpful if you could offer your assistance and magic for our plan."

Ark bowed low. "Then I will go." He turned smartly and strode off.

Not long after he left a maid came in. She had probably been listening at the door. Josiane snorted derisively, turning it into a maniacal giggling. The maid's face blanched at this sight, a slight trembling to her hands. She looked absolutely petrified by her lady's mood. "Say, Helen, do you think Roger will kill him this time? I hope so! Maybe he will drain the wriggling worm of all his Gift. Wouldn't that be funny. After all I had to listen to his boring speech about the weapons of the Gods." She tipped her head back and cackled. "What a fool believes in that pig slop."

Arie couldn't bear to be around this girl any longer. She turned and fled back through the archway. Josiane's voice was cut off the second Arie was through. Before she could so much as sigh in relief, another gate came out of the fog. Steeling herself, Arie stepped through this one.

An elegant voice drawled, "If you don't understand that much, then you are only fit to power my spell." The man that spoke was about six feet tall, had the fair skin of a man of privilege, and had conventionally attractive features. His brown black hair was brushed and oiled to shine with out looking slick, and his beard was well trimmed. But something about those blue eyes had the hackles on Arie up. If she had been a dog, she'd have wanted to bite and kill this man before he could something. Every warning bell in her mind was ringing, and she instinctively kept to the shadows of this already dim room. Arie suspected they were underground, but she couldn't be sure.

"I am following my lady's orders." Ark sneered.

Roger; because he could be no one else, gave the greasy man a sardonic smile. "I am sure you are the ever the faithful dog. But I have no use for beasts."

"The Smith's God's cauldron does exist." The other man insisted.

Roger snorted. "Of course, it does. If the Dominion Jewel exists the other treasures of the Gods are sure to be real as well. That doesn't change the fact that we do not have enough time to find it, never mind that I have no desire to use it."

"But-!"

"Just because a no name mage like you, would need such artifacts, doesn't mean I need them. Now, get out of my sight. The air down here is foul enough without your desperation polluting it further." With a flick of his hand, Roger sent a spell chasing after Ark. It sizzled as it flew, warning enough that the handsome man was serious. Ark yelped like a whipped dog and scurried out of the room. Arie followed him out and couldn't help but feel like Roger's gaze was on her back.

A soft chuckle. "That fool doesn't even realize he's haunted."

Arie felt her blood turn to ice. She ran out before the sorcerer could send a spell her way. Once was out of the gate, she continued running, she had no desire to be anywhere near that man. It was only was Arie was sure she had put enough distance between her and that arch. Goose flesh crawled up her arms and she rubbed at them if only to give herself something to do. What is this place, she wondered again. The events she saw; if they were real, had to be from the past. But why was she seeing them? This had never been part of her or her father's Gift. Her mother had had the Sight, but it had been extremely restricted, to the point of being virtually useless. Was this perhaps some dream magic? But how was that even possible?

Another archway appeared in the fog. Arie took a deep breath and walked over. She hesitated at the edge, worried about what she would see on the other side. After biting her lip, she forced her feet to step over the threshold. One the other side was a dimly lit room. At first, she thought she was back in the previous room, but instead of the smell of damp earth, the smell of dust and old parchment filled the air. Paper was shuffled in the darkness. Arie followed the sound around a bookshelf where she found Ark rifling through papers, books, and scrolls. Only a small ball of magic light lit this corner.

"I'll show him. Where is it, where, WHERE?!" Ark was muttering to himself like a madman as he searched through the papers. He was filthier than any of the other times she had seen him. And his ruddy eyes seemed abnormally red. Then he hissed, "Finally." He had ripped open a particularly old and tattered scroll. Arie cautiously approached and looked over his shoulder. There was a depiction of a smith in the process of forging a giant caldron. This was followed by the smith giving it to a female figure. Words flowed around these images and moved farther into the scroll. Arie growled her frustration, at not recognizing the words. Ark whirled around at the sound. He peered at Arie and the room around him, then grunted in annoyance, going back to his reading. For a long time, he studied the scroll before he seemed satisfied. Only then, did he stuff the roll of paper into a bag he carried and made to leave.

As Ark was walking through the door, he stumbled on a large bundle of cloth laid out across the floor. Ark sneered at the bundle. "Thank you master, you've been of such great help." The mage aimed a vicious kick at it, turning it over. Again, Arie felt her stomach rebel. The sight of what was once another man's face looked more like a mass of meat with bits of white peaking out. The front of the man's Mithran Priest robes were soaked through from the blood, making them almost unrecognizable. She had known Ark was pitiless, but she thought he would have at least a little bit of caution when it came to the priests who studied magic and were thought to be close to the Gods. A vain hope.

Arie reached down to the priest, she wasn't even sure what she could do. It was clear this man was dead even if she didn't feel it. A small sound of surprise escaped her when her hand passed through the corpse.

"I'm sorry. I can do nothing for you, but I promise to avenge this wrong." Arie swallowed heavily and stood up. She forced herself to walk away from the body and back out of the archway. She looked around for the next and found it a little off to her left. This time there was no hesitation as she strode through it, to the gloomy damp room beyond. It was the same room Roger had been in, but it had changed drastically since that. The floors and walls were covered in an interact pattern that Arie didn't like. A massive pot sat in the center of the room over a small enchanted fire. It's contents bubbling with a sickly grey color. The rest of the room had crates and makeshift tables. All kinds of books, brewing equipment, and mage paraphernalia cluttered the surfaces. Seems Ark had turned this place into a makeshift workshop.

A soft eerily cheerful whistle pierced the silence. Ark appeared from the shadows as greasy as always, but cheerful.

He sighed, "At last. How does it feel, eh Roger? I'm up here dancing on your bones about to do what you couldn't, and you're rotting in the Black God's realm." He chuckled to himself, quite pleased. "Who's the dog now?" He kicked at something hidden by the caldron. "Nothing but worm food now." He snorted. "You'll have to excuse me, your lordship." His voice was laden with sarcasm and derision. "I have things I have to do." The crazed mage moved away from the bubbling brew and went to one of the tables. Arie immediately went over and tried to sweep the contents of the table to the floor, only for her arm to slip through it all. She wanted to scream, her rage and helpless fury returning. But a lance a pain through her skull put a stop to that. The room spun violently, until even the color washed together.

Arie groaned.

"Arie? You awake?" That was Neal.

"Arie! Are you okay? Say something!" That was Jess.

"Bucket." The word was wheezed out.

Jess said, "Huh?" It was Neal who reacted with speed of lightning. He pulled Jess away and yanked a pan out from under the bed. Arie rolled to the edge of the bed and promptly vomited. Sourness filled Arie's mouth as she expelled what little was left in her belly. She swore to long and loud. Then she collapsed still partially hanging over the bed.

"Thanks," she grunted at Neal.

"Don't do that again."

Arie grunted.