This is the story that explains how I cross-classed in Ranger, to gain the Hunter's Quarry ability. It is strictly a Febrien/Arius story, so read but don't post, unless of course you are Chelsea!

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"Ranger"

Arius waited.

The fey warlock, clad as always in his ever-present black leather armor, long black cloak, and wide-brimmed black traveling hat, stood silently without the Inn of the Loose Tooth. He leaned back, resting against the inn’s outer wall, tilting his hat lower to block out the rapidly brightening morning sun. He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as Daerist snored away within his mind.

So much for an early start, Arius thought, a faint smile gracing his pale visage. They had planned on leaving before dawn, he and his companion, but the previous night had proven longer than expected.

As had become a seemingly nightly tradition, the Inn of the Loose Tooth had been packed full of townspeople come to hear the music of Arius and Ellia, the lute-playing barmaid. The two had played for hours as the innkeeper, who had been in a very festive mood, began serving free drinks to any and all, which had simply added to the celebratory feel of the evening. That much alcohol combined with the music and the festive atmosphere had made for an exhaustive, though thoroughly entertaining, night. Even Arius, who tended to speak little and drink less, had found himself more than a little drunk, playing and laughing with the people of the city until well past midnight. In fact, all of his companions had seemed to enjoy themselves, for they all had slept late into the morning, oblivious to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen below and the ever-brightening sky outside their windows.

All in all, they had made complete fools of themselves.

Arius yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up straight, pacing back and forth in front of the inn’s door, waiting for his companion to emerge. Due to Arius’ ability to enter a trance rather than sleep―all things considered, he still preferred to get a good night’s sleep on occasion―had found himself awake first and feeling only a little worse for wear after the previous night’s activities. He smiled, for he couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d been happier...

The door opened and a figure walked purposefully out into the blinding, late-morning sunlight. Febrien squinted her sapphire-blue eyes against the sudden light, furrowing her brow as she closed the door firmly behind her. She took a few steps out into the street before turning to face Arius, her traveling pack and bundle of other belongings flung over her shoulder. Arius smiled, for she looked quite put out.

“Sleep well?” he asked mockingly, raising an eyebrow as his smile broadened, nearly becoming an insolent grin.

“We should go now, before we waste any more daylight. If Skamos is to be believed, its going to take us most of the day to get there, and I’d like to have a camp setup before nightfall.” She turned her back to the still-smiling Arius, repositioning her pack slightly as she looked back at him. “Well?”

“Of course,” he replied, as the elven woman set off down the street toward the city gates. This is going to be fun, he thought, trying his hardest to hide his grin as he followed Febrien through the morning bustle of the City of No Names…

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It wasn’t really much of a forest.

The band of woods stretched away into the distance to the left of the road, looking dark and welcoming in the falling twilight. Though—by most city folks’ standards—this small forest may have seemed sprawling and daunting, to the two elves it appeared looked claustrophobically tight and cramped. Still, though, there was nowhere else, and it would have to do.

Febrien left the hard-packed dirt road first, setting off across a small clearing that separated the forest from the well-travelled wagon path. She moved briskly, a slight dance in her step, and Arius smiled as he realized just how excited the ranger was to once again find herself in the wild. He felt the same, though his reasons may have differed slightly.

For Arius, forests and woodlands had always been the perfect place to escape the chaos of city life. The feeling of being surrounded so completely by nature had eased his spirit many times, and as he neared the forest Arius sighed with relief as the familiar sounds reached him of wind in the trees and the calling of songbirds, some known to him and others distinctly different and alien.

“It has been a thousand years, Arius,” Daerist reminded him, speaking for the first time that day. “Much has changed, as you yourself have often said. Do not feel intimidated by such change, though; rather, embrace it as a chance to discover things that will be new to you.” The ancient elven spirit fell silent for a moment as Arius entered the tree-line behind Febrien, who moved with a nearly supernatural fluidity through the underbrush. When he spoke again, his voice was reassuring: “Few can claim to have such a chance, you know…”

Arius simply nodded, saying nothing as he tried to keep pace with the dark-haired ranger before him, who weaved in and out between the trees like a spirit of the forest. It was the first time that Arius had really seen Febrien in her element, and a sense of excitement filled him, for—under her tutelage—the amethyst-eyed elf realized that he, too, had a chance of learning the skills that she so easily displayed.

Daerist chuckled. “I highly doubt that you’ll ever be able to rival Febrien’s skills in the forest, Arius. No matter how hard you try, you will always be a city-born elf, regardless of how hard you try to forget that…” As always Daerist was right, which frustrated Arius to no end. The fey warlock was about to respond to the voice within his mind when he felt his foot snag in the thick undergrowth.

He fell, hard.

Febrien looked back from where she’d stopped several yards ahead of Arius, his grunt of shock as the breath was knocked out of him alerting her to his predicament. A faint smile graced her lips as she made her way quickly and effortlessly back to him, kneeling beside him as he cut the tangled mass of weeds and roots away with his dryad dagger. She reached down, offering her hand to him, but he ignored her as he staggered to his feet, turning his back to her to hide the flush of embarrassment that had colored his usually-pale features as he brushed an accumulation of dirt and detritus off of his cloak and armor.

“Very smooth…”

“Silence,” Arius hissed under his breath so as not to alert Febrien. He underestimated the acuity of her senses, though.

“What?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as Arius finally turned to face her, clearing his throat self-consciously. “Who is it that you’re always talking to, when you think no one is listening, Arius?” She noticed the shock that registered on her long-time companion’s face and grinned, obviously enjoying Arius’ discomfort as much as he had enjoyed hers that morning. “The others may not be aware of what’s going on, and truth be told I don’t fully understand, but I know that something is going on.” She waited a moment, as if expecting Arius to confess his secret to her.

She was sorely disappointed.

“Come on,” he muttered, shouldering past her and continuing deeper into the forest.

“Why not tell her?” Daerist asked, his voice nearly a whine. “Honestly, Arius, what harm could it do? She has a level head on her shoulders, and I think that she would understand, at least more than the others.”

“Because it isn’t any of her business.”

“I can still hear you,” Febrien stated, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Frustrated, Arius growled to himself as he pressed onward, ignoring the faint laugh that echoed within his mind.

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AMdG

Febrien slipped through the darkening forest, a wry smile playing across her face. While the mystery of her friend’s occasional monologues greatly intrigued her, she sensed nothing particularly sinister or dangerous in his eccentricity. The elf had long speculated on the nature of her friend’s affliction, but each theory seemed more impossible than the last. She longed to question her companion more thoroughly, but his discomfort was evident, and she resigned herself to letting the matter drop.

At least for the moment… she amended, her mind still turning over the possibilities.

Now the ranger switched gears, mindful of the steadily sinking disc of sun. She scanned the surrounding trees purposefully, automatically navigating the sparse undergrowth. After several minutes, she found the telltale signs she was looking for. Ahead and to the left, the slim tree trunks grew closer together, and the underbrush thickened, with fern and flower giving way to berry bramble. A clearing would lie beyond this natural barrier, the plants and trees growing thick and sturdy around the perimeter with the greater abundance of sunlight. The berry brush, too, marked open space, the thick, sun-loving branches less likely to flourish within the forest’s shadows. Glancing back, she guiltily slowed her pace to let Arius catch up. As he pulled abreast, the two elves carefully entered the nest of thorns, their light armor doing much to shield their legs and torsos from nicks and scratches. Gaining the clearing, the companions paused to survey their surroundings.

“We’ll rest here for the night,” Febrien said, gazing about the area with satisfaction.

No more than ten paces across, the glade stretched flat in front of them, rising sharply just before the forest resumed. Away to the right, the ranger could make out the chuckle and gurgle of a small stream, no more than a quarter of a mile from their location. Striding quickly toward the bottom of the shoulder-high rise, she gave a nod of approval and swung her pack to the ground. Arius followed more slowly, keeping a wary eye on where he placed his feet. Hiding a smile–for she suspected his caution had more to do with a fear of losing his pride more than his balance–Febrien untied her bedroll and spread it out in the lee of the ledge, the dark elf following suit a moment later. While the low area would siphon water toward their beds during a rainfall, the ranger sensed that the clear weather would hold, the hill thus affording them a natural windbreak.

“Will you please find some wood for a fire?” Febrien asked, digging out a shallow pit near their bedrolls. Arius inclined his head and strode toward the trees nearby. The lengthening shadows enveloped the dark-clad man as he disappeared between the trunks, a shadow upon a shadow. She had noticed his thoughtful–perhaps even troubled–silence since the incident earlier, but she decided not to dwell on the subject too much. He would come around, if and when he was ready, and her growling stomach made it hard to concentrate on little more than food. The ranger looked after him for a moment longer, then drew her bow and entered the forest’s embrace as well, barely more than a shadow herself.

Stepping carefully, the lithe woman slunk through the trees, all senses on high alert. She listened for movement, holding the longbow ready but pointed downward, lest something that was not food or foe should cross her path. After a few minutes, she spotted a young buck, but held back. A deer would sustain the two elves for several days – better to focus on small game for now, so that Arius could get some practice while here. Moving on, she continued to scan the forest for the movement or sounds of wildlife. Hearing a slight disturbance to her to her right, Febrien turned slowly, her eyes straining in the failing light. Thirty paces in front of her, a rabbit nosed through the carpet of fallen leaves, rooting about for tender new leaf shoots. Ever so slowly, the ranger raised her bow, sighting in just behind the animal’s shoulder blade. With an inborn sense of danger, the rabbit rose up onto its haunches and froze, sniffing the air. Febrien let her breathing slow. The sounds of the forest fell away, her vision narrowing. The rabbit snapped his head toward her, driven by some primal instinct.

She let fly.

The arrow sung through the air, delivering a clean and painless death. Nodding in satisfaction, the ranger slung her bow across her back and approached her kill. Squatting, Febrien deftly removed the arrow and picked up the limp form, taking care to avoid the small amount of blood that spilled forth. It spattered lightly across the leaves, bright ruby droplets in the last rays of sun. A heart shot, then – her arrow had struck true. She stood once more and headed back toward camp, her belly already starting to growl. The wild elf stepped from between the row of sheltering trunks as Arius dropped an armload of kindling next to her shallow depression, eyeing the dead rabbit as she joined him.

“I’ll teach you how to do this tomorrow night, before nightfall so you can better see what I’m doing,” the ranger said, laying the creature down and depositing a mixture of leaves, dry grass, and small twigs into the hole. “But look well, so you get the general idea,” she finished, quickly piling the branches and small logs upon it. She then pulled out her flint and steel, striking a well-placed spark and feeding the fledgling flame that appeared. Soon, a modest fire crackled with heat, the dancing light casting flickering shadows on the undersides of the tree branches. As Arius watched, perplexed, the dark-haired woman produced a flat, medium sized stone and settled it among the coals near the edge.

She then picked up the rabbit and retreated to the edge of the clearing, pulling out her hunting knife as she went. The warlock followed her out of a morbid kind of curiosity. He watched as the ranger sat down on a fallen log and neatly went to work, field dressing the rabbit and stripping off its skin. Arius’ eyes widened, but he said nothing, holding his tongue as the dark-haired woman efficiently cut the meat off the small creature, wasting nothing. In a short number of minutes, she had finished, and she rose gracefully to return to the fire. She carefully laid out the strips of meat on the flat stone, and soon they were sizzling merrily, throwing off an inviting smell.

“I’m going to the stream to wash before we eat,” she informed her companion. “Can you turn these in a minute or two, so they don’t burn?” Arius merely nodded, glancing uncertainly at the roasting strips as his fellow elf disappeared into the darkness.

Febrien found the nearby stream with no trouble, relishing the cool breeze upon her face and the glowing moon above as she passed through the trees, silent as a ghost. She squatted at the edge of the murmuring water, and soon she had cleansed the sticky streaks of blood and fur from her hands and arms. Upon gaining the camp once more, she was relieved to find their dinner nearly ready and Arius settled next to the fire, his dark mood having lifted somewhat. She listened closely as they ate their meal, alert lest he should speak to the unknown presence once more, but he finished eating and retreated to his bedroll without incident. The ranger doused the fire and followed soon after, the sounds of nightbirds and burbling water lulling her quickly to sleep.




Febrien stepped lightly through the forest, excitement quickening her stride and playing a smile across her face. The companions had slept late, treating themselves after the day of traveling, and were now setting off to explore the forest before beginning Arius’ training in earnest. The dark elf’s mood had improved considerably, and he now kept pace with her with little effort, his longer stride somewhat making up for her greater ease of movement. As they went, the ranger pointed out edible plants and berries along the way, Arius doing his best to take in their names and appearances as they passed, cataloguing them for future reference. Neither spoke of yesterday’s occurrence, content to leave the matter alone for the time being.

As they bantered companionably back and forth, the forest suddenly thinned and opened onto a copse filled with great, silver beech trees. Obviously several hundred years old, their branches swept the sky high above the elves’ heads, stretching well above the surrounding forest. Their massive trunks sent roots twining about the hollow, easily spanning the several feet that separated each tree, and great limbs split off at regular intervals, providing an irresistible climbing opportunity. Febrien broke into a grin, tugging at Arius’ cloak as she sprang forward.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve found a decent climbing tree?” she asked, her excitement infectious. Smiling wryly, Arius advanced as well.

The wood elf swung gracefully into the lower limbs of the closest beech, gaining her footing and climbing swiftly toward the canopy. The dark elf followed, stepping up to the trunk and glancing at the lowest limb. Reaching up automatically, he suddenly stopped, snatching his hand back just before his fingers made contact with the smooth bark. Staring at the exposed skin, he glanced up to Febrien, high above, and then clenched his hands into fists, burying them in his pockets once more. He hung his head and instead leaned his back against the sturdy trunk.

You are being a fool, Daerist informed him scornfully.

Arius merely glared at the ground as he heard Febrien descend once more. Taking in his posture and his brooding glare, the female elf realized her friend’s dilemma. Stretching out to lay on her stomach along the lowest limb, she gazed at her companion, no more than a foot below.

“Will you deny yourself even now?” she asked quietly, laying her chin on her crossed arms. “You would not free yourself of your gloves unless you believed the curse to be truly broken.” She raised her head again. “It must happen sooner or later.”

“You don’t understand what it was like,” Arius retorted, glaring up at her. “You cannot understand the need to completely separate yourself from everything, lest you should destroy it. It is not an instinct that is easily broken.” He looked to the ground once more.

“Can you not try? Just once? You will never know this freedom you have been granted unless you reach out and take it.”

Arius turned to look up at her. Daerist was uncharacteristically silent, and the elf sensed that he was holding his breath, in effect, afraid to sway the elf in the wrong direction. Gazing at Febrien’s earnest face, he wondered if she might be right.

Could it be possible?

The warlock’s emotions warred across his face, fear and uncertainty battling with impossible hope. A thousand years of survival instinct sought to overthrow the dawning question of the impossible. Against all odds, hope won. His face dark with resolve, Arius freed his hands, one arm reaching tentatively for that which he had desired for so long. His fingers inched closer to the smooth, silver bark, slowly gaining a foot. An inch. A hair’s breadth. At the last possible instant, he faltered.

Seeing the change of emotion, Febrien made a decision. Faster than she believed possible, her arm darted forward, before Arius could draw back. Grasping the elf’s still-outstretched hand, skin meeting smooth skin, she held fast and pulled, swinging him upwards onto the neighboring limb.

Arius gasped.

The sensation of Febrien’s hand upon his own sent electricity throughout his body, and it took the elven warlock a moment to realize exactly what had just occurred. As he steadied himself upon the limb of the ancient beech, Febrien’s hand still clasped firmly within his, Arius was suddenly seized with a gut-wrenching fear, and he pulled away from the ranger, nearly yanking the woman from her branch altogether. Fire filled the formerly-cursed elf’s iridescent eyes as he glared daggers at Febrien, his hands clenched into trembling fists.

His voice was full of cold wrath as he spoke. “How dare you!” he shouted, standing up and miraculously keeping his balance on the narrow limb. “Do you have any idea what could have happened, Febrien? What could possibly possess you to do something so… so foolish!?”

Febrien’s eyes were wide with shock at Arius’ tone, and she was speechless. After a moment, a smile spread across her beautiful features, and soon a soft, musical laugh emanated from her. She knew it was probably a mistake, but she couldn’t help herself, for her companion’s reaction was entirely uncalled for. Had he taken even a second to notice, Arius would have found that she was quite alright, and very much alive.

“You find this amusing?” the fey warlock asked, his eyes flashing with contempt. “Damn you, Febrien! You could have been killed! Do you know what that would mean for me, to have killed another person who is dear to me? I’ll not be responsible for the death of another that I lo—”

“Will you calm down,” Daerist chided silently, interrupting Arius’ furious rant. “You’re the one acting like the fool, Arius. I’ve told you and told you, the curse that had tormented you for so long is no more. Do you think me a liar, or a deceiver who would claim to have lifted your burden falsely?” Arius was silent for a moment, and Febrien noticed some change in his demeanor as some small part of his anger drifted away on the wind. Daerist went on, his mental voice sounding exasperated and, if Arius could judge such things, more than a little hurt.

“Do you think that I would give up eternity in the Blessed Isles, with the ones I’ve loved and lost, and bind myself to you for no reason at all? I promised you that your curse would be broken, Arius, and it has. It’s time for you to live, my old friend…”

“Arius?” Febrien said softly, the amusement that had been so prevalent in her eyes replaced by confused concern. “I… Forgive me, Arius…”

With a wave of his hand the raven-haired elf leapt lightly down from his perch, landing easily on his feet on the ground below. Without a word, Arius stormed away into the forest, leaving a stunned and worried Febrien behind to dwell upon the consequences of her actions…

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He couldn’t stop shaking.

The forest around him became a blur as he pressed onward, putting as much distance between himself and Febrien as possible. Images tore through his frantic mind, fragments of long-buried memories combined with the terrible scene of what could have happened only moments ago with Febrien.

He stumbled, falling to the ground in a heap, the breath knocked from his lungs from the impact. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, body still quaking, eyes clenched shut as he tried to block out the image of Febrien’s lifeless eyes, her face slowly deteriorating as the power of his curse ate away at her flesh. His stomach twisted, and he vomited for what felt like an eternity. The vomiting turned into dry heaving as his stomach emptied itself entirely, the bitter taste of fear and bile still fresh in his mouth.

“Enough of this, Arius,” Daerist’s voice cut through his terror-stricken mind, a soothing presence in the otherwise hopeless darkness. “Calm down, my friend… Calm down and realize what has truly occurred, rather than what you fear may have happened…” Arius made no response, though, as he dug his fingers into the earth of the forest floor, clenching the dirt in his fists as he struggled to slow his breathing, his body still wracked with uncontrollable tremors. “Arius,” Daerist continued, his voice soft and soothing, “Arius, open your eyes. Open your eyes and just look down…”

Something in Daerist’s tone, coupled with the relative strangeness of the spirit’s request, managed to pierce Arius’ despair. Wondering at what Daerist meant, the black-clad elf slowly opened his eyes, finding his vision blurred with tears that had miraculously remained unshed. Blinking them away, Arius stared at the ground below him, between his hands, seeing nothing that seemed particularly unusual.

Daerist spoke. “Your hands, Arius,” the former Galdrian King said, the barest hint of humor coloring his mental voice.

Arius did so, and immediately he gasped in shock. His hands—his bare, ungloved hands—were planted firmly in the thick undergrowth of the forest. His iridescent eyes widened as he stared, just waiting for something awful to happen, for the living green carpet beneath his hands to shrivel, to turn to ash, for the frightening, hellish pain that would shoot through his body…

But nothing happened.

The wind, soft and fresh, blew through the canopy above, rocking the limbs and singing through the leaves. Birds called from all around him, as if calling to him, reassuring him that their beloved forest home was at no risk of destruction at his hands, and in his mind, Daerist sent a sensation of pride, of comfort. Nothing was dying, nothing was being eaten away and blown off on the wind like dust, and the only pain in his body was due to the heaving tremors that had rocked him only moments before.

“You see? The only things that suffer and die at your hands are within your own mind, Arius…” He chuckled, but there was nothing deprecating about it, merely the amused laugh of a parent who has finally witnessed some great change for the better within a stubborn child. “I have told you and told you, there is no more need for you to be afraid, no reason for you to remain apart from those you hold dear. For you, my dearest friend, will never suffer under such a curse again, I swear it…”

“I know,” Arius finally said, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion.

“You know? Then why do you still fear it so?”

Arius was silent, and though he spoke no words, the churning, dark memories that swirled like a storm of doubt throughout his mind spoke volumes to Daerist.

“Why do you still grieve so, when so much time has passed?”

Daerist received no answer, for Arius simply closed his eyes and let darkness wash over him as he remembered…

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Over a thousand years earlier…

Music drifted out from the small house

Arius staggered forward, leaning his forehead against the closed door, letting the soft tune of the lute turn his thoughts away from the terrible mistake that he had made barely an hour earlier. That the man called Tempest had deceived him Arius had no doubt, for the wild, raw power that had been promised had turned out to be only a small amount of decidedly dark and sinister energy that now coursed through his body like fire in his blood. The pain had subsided only a little, and the elf wondered if he would ever truly be rid of it.

But the pain wasn’t even the worst of it. Arius clenched his eyes shut, finding only the darkness again, as he had every time since the encounter with Tempest, and the dark blood rite that had rid him of the powers of his heritage. Tears ran down his face, not for the first time, as he realized that never again would he be able to sense and manipulate the subtle streams of natural magic that flowed and coursed through the atmosphere around him. It was akin to having been in a sunlit meadow full of natural beauty one moment, and then immediately thrown into a lightless, dank dungeon the next.

On top of everything else, Arius also knew with sick certainty that his friends within the home would be able to sense the changes in him…

Reaching forward slowly, Arius took hold of the door-handle, steeling himself for the confrontation to come. The door opened inward, inching forward, revealing little by little the scene before him. Sitting on a stool before the home’s small hearth was an elven woman of staggering beauty; slender, fair-skinned, and golden-haired, clad in a pale blue gown of soft silk. Her fiery green eyes, glowing within her pale face like emeralds, turned toward the opening door, locking on Arius and lighting up with affection. She put aside the lute she had been holding on her lap, standing to her feet as the door opened further and Arius slipped in. Across from where the woman stood sat another, a gnome who smiled broadly at Arius as he made a final flourish across the strings of his instrument before laying it gently on the floor beside him.

“We were wondering where you’ve been, Arius,” the woman spoke, her musical voice hitting the amethyst eyed elf like a blade through the heart. “I know you can take care of yourself, but still I wish that you’d at least tell me when you’re going to be gone so long.” She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly to the side and clasping her hands together behind her back. “I worry, you know…” Whether it was some unseen aura that cloaked Arius in invisible shadows, or whether some slight catch in his step or posture caught her attention, the woman’s lovely features became clouded with fear and concern. “Arius?”

He tried valiantly to contain his despair, to hide his agony and terror behind a mask of calming reassurance, but it was no use. He lifted his head and tried to smile at Nanethiel, but the moment his eyes caught her own, the elven woman gasped, bringing her hand up to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Even Jeyld could sense some deep change within Arius, for he took a reflexive step back, his sharply in-taken breath hissing, impossibly loud in the sudden heavy silence that dominated the house.

Nanethiel’s eyes filled with tears as she ran forward to embrace her long-time companion. She may not have known exactly what had happened to Arius, but she knew it was something terrible, and that was enough. At first the dark-haired elf tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, placing his hands on the woman’s shoulders and trying half-heartedly to push her away. Eventually, though, he succumbed to the bottled up fear and anguish that had been building within him, and he buried his face against Nanethiel’s neck as he wept, terrible sobs wracking his body.

Instantly a dark presence filled the room, a pressure that threatened to crush the three friends, and a cold wind of ill-aspect seemed to emanate outward from Arius and Nanethiel. Several feet away, Jeyld found himself shivering, and he was shocked to discover the puffs of steam that accompanied each exhalation. Shaking off his astonishment, the gnome bard returned his attention to Arius and Nanethiel, where an even greater shock awaited him. A nimbus of dark energy had surrounded the two elves as Arius continued to cling hysterically to Nanethiel, oblivious it seemed to the events unfolding around him. Over the weeping elf’s shoulder, Jeyld could make out Nanethiel’s face, and her expression turned his blood to ice.

The stunningly beautiful woman’s face was contorted with pain, her mouth open slightly, a soft, low moan escaping from between her blue-tinged lips. Her eyes—her crystalline, clear emerald eyes—were enormous, bulging out from her pale face, and bloodshot. All across her face small, vein-like black lines were spreading, crisscrossing the elven woman’s features even as blood began to trickle from her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.

“Arius!” Jeyld shouted, the panic in his voice enough to snap Arius from his hysteria.

Arius’ eyes snapped open at the sound of Jeyld’s exclamation, and widened as he noticed the swirling cloud of shadowy energy that had encased Nanethiel and him. He pushed the woman away from him, sensing that something was horribly wrong, and when he caught sight of her twisted visage, his stomach twisted as Tempest’s words sprang unbidden to his mind:

“Everything you touch will be destroyed, or wither and die, and everything you love will be stripped away from you…”

Nanethiel staggered back, a look of incomprehension breaking through her tormented features before she fell to the floor, writhing and convulsing in agony. Her once-fair skin darkened and began to flake away like ash, her emerald eyes shriveling within their sockets as blood continued to flow profusely from her mouth and nose. Finally the elven woman’s back bowed and a final, sorrowful gasp escaped her before death finally released her from her suffering.

She fell dead, nothing but a dissolving husk of her former self.

Before Nanethiel’s death had a chance to fully register with him, Arius felt a searing wave of pain tear through his body, forcing him to his knees. Suddenly, without warning, an explosion of vile, cursed energy swelled up around the elf, billowing upward where it bashed against the ceiling over and over again, until finally breaking through with a horrendous crash. The glass in every window—an expensive luxury for most—shattered outward from the detonation, accompanied by a shrieking, mournful cry on the wind, and Jeyld was knocked off his feet and thrown against the wall behind him. He slumped to the ground, unconscious.

His body quaking with unbearable pain, Arius could do nothing but lie on the ground in agony as darkness washed over him…

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Thunder rumbled high over head.

A few droplets of rain hit the ground around Arius, snapping him out of his daze and returning him to the present. He stood shakily to his feet, bringing a fist clenched shut and full of earth up before his face as the rain began to fall in earnest, its pitter-pattering music in the leaves above filling the forest around him. Opening his hand, Arius let the dirt and detritus fall from his grasp, returning it to the forest floor. Pulling his cloak tighter about him, the formerly-cursed warlock turned back toward the direction from which he’d came, back toward Febrien.

“Are you afraid?” Daerist asked as Arius shuddered from a combination of cold rain and colder memories. “Do you think that she’ll think less of you now, after your outburst?”

“I don’t know… Perhaps.”

Daerist went on, “I don’t think you need to worry about it. She is a good friend, Arius, and not one to be so easily turned away.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The elven spirit that dwelled within Arius’ mind said nothing, though a sensation of approval flooded the elf’s body as the full fury of the storm broke around them.

I hope you’re right…

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AMdG

"I cannot say as I blame you for being concerned, Arius. We went through a lot together and I understand your mood far better then some royal poltergeist." A mocking tone interrupted Arius' and Daerist's internal conversation. Arius felt the small glimmering scale on his hand grow warm and tingle. "But I can assure you that the old bore is quite right." A faint note of music in the air sang out the arrival of a small figure. Arius couldn't help but grin at the spectacle of his short friend. "Greetings oh creature of forest and song and so on and so forth and need I remind you that I am keeping an eye on you at all times, Dark Elf?" Jeyld gave Arius a grin and winked at him.

"Old bore indeed, you miniature, egotistical-"

"You can stop right there King Daerist. I do not take kindly to those that soil my good name, even if you happen to have been dead for... well... a long time." The look of shock upon Arius' face made the former gnome grin once more. "I'm almost a god do you think it's so hard for me to hear the voices in your head? Your conversations with the past have kept me amused in some boring times, old friend."

A dark look clouded the Warlocks face. "You have been listening in on my thought's, Jeyld? Is nothing sacred to me anymore?"

"That scale is a part of me, Arius. It connects you to me, and I to you. That's how it allows communication as well as a few other minor tricks." The gnomes grin, as infectious as it was, did not spread to Arius' face.

"You have violated my privacy! My moments alone-"

"Have nearly gotten you killed time and time again!" Jeyld suddenly grew in height, his wings spread wide and his eyes crackled with lightning, his very voice boomed with thunder as he towered over Arius. "Do you have any idea what I have put on the line for you? Do you understand just what those scales represent? My very existence is tied to yours! If you fail then I cease to be, Arius! When you die you will go to your afterlife but I will fade away!" Jeyld calmed himself and returned to his normal size. "I have given you everything, old friend. If I must use every advantage to protect you then I shall. You four are more important then you shall ever know." He smirked at the look of awe upon Arius' face. "You and I must keep an eye out for him, King Daerist. Keep watch over him."

"A divine commandment?"

"No... merely a friend's plea for another." Jeyld's figure slowly faded away. "Remember, Dark Elf. I am always watching."

Arius started to turn away when suddenly the gnome appeared once more. "One more thing, it completely slipped my mind what with the stresses of the conversation and all," He laughed, "Anyway, I suggest you apologize to Febrien for your little tantrum. Most un-becoming of you, Arius. You acted like such a child." And with a flourish of his hat, a mirror image of the one on Arius' head, he was gone once more. And then was back. "Always watching!" And gone again. Arius waited in case the eccentric gnome appeared again, but he stayed gone this time. With a shake of his head he contemplated the strange outburst. As he walked back towards Febrien he could hear Daerist muttering.

"Never could stand the theatrics of that one. Such a flamboyant creature, prone to drama and over-reacting." But Arius heard, just beneath conciousness, as if the old spirit was whispering. "Might as well do as he asks though, just in case."