"Her fate is mine to seal. Let me handle this."
As the Sharran approaches, deep within Aylin's soul she feels a connection that she hasn't felt in ages. Just a sliver, but Aylin would know the feeling of Selûne's essence – even just this faint trace – anywhere. But how in the hells is it coming from the Sharran.
Aylin own divine blood sings as it connects to this essence of Selûne deep in this woman's soul. She gets glimpses of a younger version of the woman in front of her is surrounded by adoring parents – wearing small holy symbols of the Moonmaiden. Of the girl surrounded by Sharrans with a giant wolf trying to defend the girl before her and the wolf are taken by Sharrans. Finally the now older girl freezing up while fighting wolves trying to prove herself in front of a drow woman wearing the insignia of a Mother Superior of Shar.
Deep in her soul she knows that this woman could end her suffering her in the Shadowfell. One way or another.
This flash of connection ends as Shadowheart turns back from whatever conversation she had with her allies.
'Moonmaiden. Guide me and this lost little light.' Aylin tries to relax her shoulders but Gods she is tired.
"The fate you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love – only servitude. Until, of course, your mistress inevitably discards you. And there is much she does not tell you – a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death."
The Sharran's allies talk to her as Aylin feels deep in her soul that this woman could end her suffering here in the Shadowfell. One way or another.
The spear slung across her back reeks of divine magic it's almost sickening how different the magic on the weapon is from her mother's own holy weapons gifted to her champions. Then it all clicks into place like a sprung trap on a door. Yes, this woman will actually be able to do what centuries of Sharran's failed.
"Well, well. Well. What's that I sense? A spear intended for my heart. Empowered by your goddess, aye – empowered to kill the child of a god." Anger creeps into her voice. But she knows she has to reach this woman. For both of their sakes. By Shar's cold left tit will Aylin let herself die – truly die- before she can kill Ketheric.
Aylin swears she can hear Isobel chiding her. Telling her that she can get more flies with honey than vinegar.
"Do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you – a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark." The Sharran's face changes and Aylin knows her words are starting to get to the woman
"What did you say?" Shadowheart asks with a slight change to her voice for the first time since she and her allies landed on this rock. Aylin's mother warned her of Shar's sick games with some of her followers – of memories being removed – some say to take pain away. But Aylin knows it this case it is to add to the pain of a girl who lost her two loving parents.
"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you? What do you know of your own heart – your own life? I sense more in you than you know."
Aylin heart continues to pound in her chest – perhaps she has gotten to Shar's would be champion. But the second the woman shakes her head (as if to shake the words from her brain) Aylin knows that she has failed.
"Whatever you think you know of me won't matter, once I become whom I'm meant to be," the woman snarls out before reaching back to grab the spear from her back. Aylin's stomach turns as the spear flashes with a purple glow giving the Aasimar her first good look at the spear.
The spear's wooden shaft gives way to fine twists of metal into a star with a black gem and ends in a fine point. What mockery is it that the weapon that will kill her resembles the same weapon that Isobel wielded with such mastery before her death.
Then for the first time in a century, Aylin feels a sense of remorse. Remorse over failing to protect Isobel all those years ago. For failing to realize Ketheric's imminent betrayal as he led her to this realm. Of Ketheric still roaming the mortal plane – the bastard. That her words were unable to reach this woman and with her death – Gods her actual death this time- will send this lost light further into shadows and the despair that awaits the woman before her.
She watches as the woman looks down at the spear then her eyes level with Aylin's. A faint movement of a foot – just like Isobel used to do before striking out with her spear to impale those that stood in her way. Then she watches as the spear doesn't strike out at her like a snake but goes flying off the rock that has held her prison into the vast nothingness of the Shadowfell.
'Perhaps not such a lost light.' Aylin finds herself walking towards the edge of the glyph that has been her prison.
"I can't believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me… what will happen to me?" Shadowheart's voice sounds so broken that has Aylin the chance she would be trying to comfort the woman. Aylin knows what it feels like to be broken – to feel lost.
"Not what will happen – what will you do. Your past is not yet lost. Your future not yet fixed."
"Lay a hand on me in friendship, not quiet-Sharran…," Aylin goes down on a knee in a gesture that nearly repulses her – how many times had she been killed just like this?
"… and I will fight the battle that has been waiting for me this last century. Then – oh then, we will have much to discuss." Her eyes lock on Shadowheart until her words finish and then she can only think to hang her head. The lost Selûnite (now disgraced champion of Shar) hand is light on her shoulder. Unable to believe it she looks to the hand the second before it leaves her shoulder.
A jolt runs through her and Aylin almost beings to think the woman actually cast a spell on her. Suddenly she feels all of the years of anguish and torment recess into the darkest reaches of her mind and an impossible weight pressing onto her shoulder. One of the warmth, strength, and love that had been so far away from her in the recesses of the Shadowfell.
She finds herself falling forward and her fingers just cross the threshold of the line that has been her prison and has taunted her for a century.
'My little light,' Selûne's voice is awash with a century of mourning for her daughter and elation with this renewed connection to her. Aylin feels her strength enhanced with her divine blood thrumming in her hand. She punches the ground and the divine energy pulses up her forearm and she knows her eyes must be glowing with the traces of the same energy.
"Our Lady of Silver. Hear me!"
Her second punch sends the divine energy to her shoulder.
"She Who Guides, The Moonmaiden Selûne -"
The third punch and she can feel the divine energy pulse through her whole body. She Looks up before getting to her feet with strength renewed and her steps cross the boundary of the glyph. One her feel she sees what one could think are small moons dance around her.
"MOTHER OF THE SO-CALLED NIGHTSONG. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!"
Her divine blood pulses through her body as she calls out to the Shadowfell.
The end of the Nightsong brings the Moonmaiden's Sword into the light of Selûne once more.
She feels her feet leave the stone as her armor – armor that Isobel loved helping her in and out of – forms around her body. A column of moonlight reaches out to her hand and forms into her greatsword – long lost after Ketheric Thorm kicked it from her hand after stabbing her in the back. Then warmth surrounds her as her wings – the beautiful wings that allowed her and Isobel to fly away to privacy or to cocoon the two in to shelter from a storm or cold wind- form and stretch out for the first time since they were ripped from her back.
"I am resplendent. You have given me a great gift, little warrior. Don't you find it oh-so-curious that you would spurn your Dark Lady? Perhaps you feel a stirring of the truth already. But that will come later. There is a battle yet to be fought. You have done what we feared was impossible. You have released me from a century of sorrow. Your power is great. So too must be your weapon. You must choose what you will wield. And the Moonmaiden will provide. Thus I have said; thus will it be so."
Her mother's own power surges through her and a silver and golden glaive appears in her hands as she hands it to the woman that freed her from her century of torture and death.
"Are you ready to kill Ketheric Thorm?" She has to stifle a laugh when the Tiefling grin goes wide. The group in front of her all nod and then she takes to the air of the Shadowfell.
The somewhat weightlessness of the realm a welcomed aspect as she flies for the first time since trapped here. She exits the portal and takes to the darkened skies over Reithwin and over a long-standing inn bathed in moonlight – the same moonlight that emanates from her as she flies through the air. Her only thought is happiness to witness some of her mother's worshippers still stand against the dark. As the darkness plaguing the lands lifts her thoughts focus on killing Ketheric.
The fight against Ketheric is brutal and Aylin knows that there are new additions to the countless scars across her body. But after Myrkul's chosen falls with the help of her newfound allies Aylin finds herself looking around the entry hall of Moonrise Towers. While she could fall asleep at any second she doesn't want to rest here. Not in the corrupted place that Isobel loved so deeply.
Aylin looks towards the exit and wonders if she can make it to the inn she saw from the sky before exhaustion takes her. She takes a step but her subsequent step is halted by a voice she hasn't heard outside her own tormented mind in the Shadowfell.
"Aylin"
The paladin turns to see what final trick awaits her and her heart nearly stops as she sees her beloved at the base of the stairs.
"Isobel"