Stories of the irrational but true nevertheless.

Well, I was half right.

Our journey passed uneventfully the first day; we didn't waste time or breathe on speech, just ran forward. Normally, I feel like myself and Ann are something of wolves among the sheep in normal company; now I felt like the sheep itself, running from slaughter. And honestly, we would have been fucked if not for the oddities that started occuring....revolving mostly around Ann. Now, most everything weird I've experianced with this lot has had Ann smack bang at the center. Maybe because she's an elf, maybe because she's just lucky, maybe it's just a fluke, maybe she's special some other way....I don't know. But even with Illoria and Lim around, the oddest things still occured primarily around her.

So when night fell, and suddanly goblins sprang from the ground in the hoardes they traveled in behind and in front of us, but Ann found safty only steps away in the form of a santucary that was not supposed to be there, I wasn't surprised. We charged through the goblins and only she was badly hurt- Meyone and I were unharmed, pretty much- and put the circle between us and them. They killed each other trying to get at us, but they couldn't get past the stone ring to us.

Ann claimed a horse had been standing where the stones now were, but neither Meyone nor myself saw any horse.

We stayed the night there without incident, and headed out again the next day.

And this, friends, is when shit starts to go wrong.

It started with us being stalked by what our lovley, chattey tour guide called a land worm. More like a snake-like animal that moved in heartbeats and was big enough to swallow me-

-y' know what, I don't think I like that turn of phrase anymore. Considering, you know, that it did. Swallow me whole, that is.

I am getting really tired of being eaten by things.

See, Meyone told us that if this worm came into site and headed our way try and intimidate it.

Ann did not intimidate. She pissed.

She's damn well good at that.

She shot the thing and sure as fuck, dispite Meyone's attempts to make it change it's mind, it charged at us. And nearly as soon as the fight started, it reared down and just- lapped me up.

....it is really unpleasent to be in something's stomach. And it takes a painfully long time to hack your way out. Luckily, most of my important items survived, but just about everything non-magical I possessed got....dissolved.

I think this is the point where I first fell into the really bad mood.

About the time I hopped out of the other side of this thing's belly, Meyone started to get....wobbly. Seriousely not looking too good, folks. Ann was back well clear, and didn't seem injured- or not badly, anyway- and I prayed she'd get him clear or get a potion in him while I kept this thing's attention.

She did- almost too late, but she did- and we came inches away from putting the thing down- inches- but it wasn't stupid. It didn't want to die. And even though I tried to finish it off as it fled, flee it did. Ann fired off a shot and, thanks to 'hawkeyes' she'd purchased from my shop- keeper friend, she managed to hit it. But it got away, anyway, and she didn't get a chance to make another shot, even if she could've hit.

We worked with potions, the wand, and good old fashioned banadages and herbs to clean ourselves up, and continued on.

Nightime again, dispite our mad, almost desperate dash for safty we could damn well see in front of us. It honestly seemed as though nighttime wanted to catch us; wanted us to be trapped.

We ran. We ran until we were helping each other, urging each other, until we didn't, honestly, think we could.

And then Ann informed us she was leaving the road.

And then she did.

We didn't have much choice- we couldn't just let her sprint off by herself- and we followed her.

They followed us, goblins inches from our heels, on the sides of us, swarming like insects, sensing free game now that we were off the road.

Until we followed Ann over a bridge that crossed a line of salt, and, like before, they couldn't follow us.

One tried, and it became Crispy. Yes, that's with a capital 'c'. It burst into a little ball of wriggling flame and then poofed away in the air, ashes.

Yummy.

The others took the hint.

So, we were safe-ish-for now. Turned out we'd managed to find Fera, too- this, it seemed, was the place, according to the sign on the bridge.

We found a stream that Meyone refused to dirty by cleaning up in, so Ann scooped water from it and started to clean him up. I had no such qualms, and washed myself a bit in the stream. Ann muttered at me about Meyone's point of not wanting to dirty this water, not knowing who it belonged to, and he gave me a Look (another capital).

This is where my bad mood got worse.

I try not to let my temper get the better of me with the exception of a few people and a few situations. And I do have a temper. But this wasn't the place to go off, so I smirked and good-naturedly blew it off. We spent a peaceful night.

Sort of.

On my watch of our little camp- I had last watch, in fact- I heard what sounded like the faint noise of childern laughing. It sounded like it could be my imagination working doubletime. I noted it and let it go; catalouged it in one of the dusty tombs of my mind for further inspection at a later date. I like taking watches; dispite the danger. So my mood had improved somewhat by morning, when I got Meyone up. I'd had a creepy but seemingly calm enough evening with just my own self and my thoughts, which is nice, sometimes.

My mood instantly plunged downward again the moment Meyone was awake. Apperantly I'd not gotten him up in time for his royal-bloody-highness, and I got my ears damn well boxed for it, verbally.

Well, boys and girls, there's the last time I ever try to do anything nice for this arrogent twit. He was hurt and we were all tired, and in a santaury that was close to, if not was, our goal area. We were as safe as we were ever going to be, at least as far as I could tell, and needed our strength and energy for when we needed it.

Yeah, apperantly I'm just a lazy fuckwit.

So he woke Ann while I slid right back into my not-so-pleasent mood (isn't it funny, how Meyone is, for the second time, the cause of this mood?) and we picked up and started walking the salt line. Ann wanted to, Meyone did whatever she wanted to (and even in my rapidly blackening mood, I found and find this adorably tease-worthy) and I? Had nothing better to do. I had no plans to leave that place without one or both of them, and I could have walked the other direction, a kind of 'met in the middle' situation, but then if something had happened, I didn't particuarly care for the idea of it happening with me by myself. So we walked the parimiter.

And found nothing, of course. Bridge again, what looked like an abandoned working area. Woods, cut in half by the line, woods with blinking blue lights in the middle circled by it. No people. No sign of civilization. Then we found another, much larger bridge, with an arch over it, and a road leading two directions.

We crossed our protective line and turned around to look at the arch.

Take the word 'Fera', and move the 'r'.

In case you don't get what this spells right off, let me help you out.

Fear. Or, technically, since there was a space where the letter should have been, 'Fe ar'.

Yeah, I know, shut up, Semie.

At her urdging, I hoisted her heavy ass up to inspect the moved letter- nothing behind it- and then held her up longer to put it back.

Why couldn't Meyone do that? I'm not really sure. I guess I was the convient and closest lifter. Plus, we're a bit used to relying on one another, so maybe it was just habit that she asked me.

I grummbled about it, of course, and when I lowered her, she whiped her grimy hand across my front. I know my cursing irritates her, and it was partly that and partly habit that had me spitting a half-amused 'fuck you!' at her.

And then a hand connected with my shoulder. And I got scolded, like a fucking two year old. Like he had any damn right to tell me how I could and couldn't speak. Like he knew me. Like he had any jurisdiction over me. Fucking scolded. Self-righteouse, arrogent man had the balls.

My bad mood clicked into a whole 'nother level of bad-mood-ness. I was embaressed and pissed off, getting swiftly more annoyed with the situation at hand, strung tight as wire, and fucking well tired, hungry, hurting, sore, and irritable.

But I smiled something that felt more like a snarl and said 'my appologies' in a sheepish tone (that felt more like a grumble), flinching and rubbing my arm.

Smile, Semei.

We went back on our safer side, and continued on a ways. Hours later and we made camp again. And during my watch, it happened again- the noises. Childern laughing.

I feel incredibly stupid. I didn't think anything of it- I thought, at the most, it was something trying to lure people into the darkness, looking for the source of the kids. Bad idea to wander through the darkness on a thought that maybe there were brats wandering around in the dark. Why would there be?

I should have mentioned something the night before. I should have at the least awakened my companions the second time I heard it. Of course it was something out there. Of course it's not just my imagination.

But I didn't, did I? No. Instead, I woke Meyone at the barest crack of dawn, none too gently, and he woke Ann.

Then I opened my mouth, and once again, my slightly-recovering mood got shot right back down. Six foot plus of man stood towering over me, scowling.

The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate me. Hah! I hate to break it to you, sweatheart, but once a towering Were looms over you, more then once, or you come face to face with a man with burning white eyes, or a half-spider, half dark elf man appers in your dreams and battles the same man, or you help pull down a (weakened) giant vampire, or, ignoring all of that plus some, fucking Talron yells at you, then it takes more then a six foot tall bald man to scare you.

What? You've never had Talron yell at you. Shut up. It's almost as bad as Ann's father looking all seriouse at you.

Bad mood levels peaking. I felt my blood start to boil as he got in my face and demanded to know why I hadn't said anything. I told him the perfectly honest truth; we were safe here, and I didn't think it was anything.

He told us there were stories of childern being taken from villages, of creatures- a creature?- that lured them out and killed them. It found their innocence appealing.

I felt absoultly ill. But bad things were out there, what were we supposed to do, charge out into the darkness to save childern that may or may not be out there by fighting something we could not see, had no advanatage over, did not know how to fight, and could not win against at night?

I demanded all that right back, and he said yes, we should have. He would have given his life for the childern.

That's. It.

I'm surprised it wasn't out loud, the way my hold on my temper went twang.

It was pretty clear by this point that Meyone's opinion of me was less then exlimpliary, that I paled in all things compared to himself and of course, Ann, who he still followed about like a puppy following orders.

Now, on a side note, I have no problem with that.

I think it's adorable that he seems to be developing an intrest in her, and that she seems obliviouse. She's just as obliviouse to Ivy's attraction to her, or so it seems. I think it's sweet and cute as hell that Ann's picked up a silent gaurdian that she doesn't want to admit her own intrest in....even though I think it's there.

I plan on having quite a bit of fun teasing, hinting, nudging, shoving, and snickering madly under my breath at the pair of them while ignoring the sidelong looks and aggrivated glares.

Back on track, though, it was getting really irritating being on the wrong side of this man just for being who I was, while it was never more clear that in comparison, Ann could do no wrong. I know she's more lady like, and often much better at using her brains then I am. It's not that I don't have them, I just sometimes forget I do.

Even Talron, dispite his....dispite what we.....he treats Ann and I as equal parts of a whole. Meyone, though, acted as though Ann was the person to turn to, and I was just the puppy licking at her heels.

And now, apperantly, I was a dispicable person.

And so, with the last fraying bits of my temper went my good commen sense. Let him think whatever the fuck he wants about me. and so I specificually acted as though I didn't care. I acted like I wouldn't have given a fuck about those kids, anyway, like it didn't make me slightly ill that two of the kids were likely dead right now, and not in a painless way.

I may not always get on well with kids, and I don't always interact well with them, but I like them, and I like to be around them. I just don't know really how to talk to them, that's all. I've not been around too many- er, well, that I can remember. And that I had let two die made me feel like a coward.

No, I still would not have gone charging into the darkness to save them. Yes, I did feel like squished shit about it.

In my temper, I snapped out that I had a bad running record with kids, and Ann, to my surprise, supplied coldly that I had gotten the last child in my care taken, though she did not say by what.

It was true, yes, and worked for what I was trying to do in my temper, but somewhere in the back of my mind, it made me wince.

I hadn't meant to get Min kidnapped. And yes, I had taken a big risk with her life, but I didn't want the girl dead.

And as to his statment that he would risk his life for a child, I said that it was good to know one of us here would.

He stopped seeing me. It's the only way I can describe what happened. He didn't even give me a dirty look.

He told Ann maybe she should take watch, next time.

My anger did not go away enough to let me feel bad.

It did not go away at all, over the next few days. Even when Ann finally found our town- after we saw another bridge and a group of susipiciouse people outside our wall of safty- I did not stop being pissed off.

And when we got into town, the cheerful happiness of the people grated on me, in my already foul temper, wearing away the enamel of my smile for every word. They doted on Ann and I was amused to note that the women seemed completly unintimidated by Meyone, sending him to chop wood in return for food, while Ann was sent to clean up. I was, apperantly, a bit barbaric in my armor (which no, I did not glamour. I was in a bad fucking mood, thank you, and I am a beligerant bitch when I'm allowed to remain in this sort of mood.) their reactions to it only made me that much more irritated, of course.

Yes, I know how little sense I make at times.

And so we started trying to discover the mystery behind these people's nightmare. But there didn't seem to be any nightmare. Everyone was annoyingly happy. They were, apperantly, preparing for some kind of festival, and here it got a bit creepy. From the way they talked, it sounded very much like this festival would be some kind of sacrifice.

Those are never ever good- I don't even have to have experiance to know that. Combined with the cheerful way they discussed it and the celebration before hand, I got a bit of a chill.

Attempts to find out more were nicely diverted. We were only told that this celebration was the passing of the rulership (?) of this town from mother to daughter.

Yeah, because that just clears it up so nicely.

We spent most of our first day working and helping out; Ann and I tried speaking to the kids. It was going fine- even I wasn't floundering too much like a damn fish- until she got up and fucking left me alone with them. I tried to continue our conversation, but got asked if they could see my daggers- they'd already played with Ann's bow. But her bow and my daggers are two differant things. For one, if you don't aim a bow at someone you have a difficult time hurting them with it. Unless you bash them over the head with the bow, and that has to be a bit dilleberate-most of the time. With the daggers- particuarly with magical ones- it's way too easy to hurt yourself or someone else. But I took them out and played with them a bit, showed off.

Then I got asked if I'd ever killed anyone.

And stupid me was honest. Hell, obviously these kids weren't stupid or naive, and they knew about that shit, to some degree. And all kids love stories involving fighting, for one reason or another. I was knew and unusual, and I doubt very much they'd had much oppertunity to speak with people like us who'd been willing to dicuss things like yes, I have fought and killed people to stay alive.

I don't know what made me paint myself in a bad light. I'd fought and killed to protect people, too, people I cared for, and I would again, without hesitating. But I was still in that ragged, piss-poor mood. So I said I only killed to protect myself, and when one of the little girls called me out on it, I couldn't defend myself.

I did not sign up for this to be a damned hero. I just want answers and to go back to my normal life.

Looks like that's what I was expected to be anyway.

That night, Ann slipped out of the window of the room we were staying in- a lady kindly let her use her kid's old rooms. I left the window open for her and went to sleep, fairly comfortable with the protection that line offered.

At least until Ann dashed back in like she was being chased. She slammed the window and told me that if the mist came in, get out of the room.

Needless to say, I was damn well awake.

She came back into the room with Meyone (fan-fucking-tastic) and together, they inspected the area while I kept an eye on them from the window. Ann said a wolf had attacked her- or rather, chased. It's body was complete mist, and all she'd seen was fangs, eyes, and paws or claws. It had stared her down and then taken off after her. We all went in a happy little group to explore the area, and found a great heaping whop of nothing. No marks, no tracks, no fur, no mist, no (thankfully) snarling, protective mist wolf. And so around the corner we went, at Meyone's suggestion, to report the incident to the gaurds.

Who did not belive a word.

At the very least, in her prowl of the town, Ann had found a little to go on- the name Jhonna, and where this person lived or at least stayed.

The next day, of course, the rumor had spread, in a not so nice way, of the person who claimed to have seen the ghost hound. Ann told me to ignore it, but it was not helping my still bitter mood.

Then we were all pulled back to the main area of this town, where we'd already been once, because Ann's 'Jhonna' wanted a meeting. Apperantly, this was a big deal.

Of course, a public announcment was made that this ghost hound sighting was utter nonsense, from the man that seemed to be 'in charge' around here- and not five minutes later, a woman took the stage in his place.


She was stunning, and it wasn't all just her looks; she had that way about her, as if she were a queen instead of....whatever she was. And she wore a ruby amulet around her throat.

She said she'd had a vision; that she'd seen the ghost-hound had returned.

This lead to many a gasp and wide-eyed look in Ann's direction that she ignored.

Needless to say, the appolgies came in swarms after this woman got done speaking, more on this creature and the person who had seen it and come forward, and Ann managed to at last inquire about just what the hell was going on.

We discovered there was a good and bad side to this coin. It seemed that as long as this amulet was being worn, the town stayed safe. But it shortened the wearer's life significently, and after fifteen years, the woman (always woman) who wore it must hand it down to her daughter, and then die. And the father of the daughter always died, too, killed by this- wolf creature Ann had seen.

There was a memorial to the first man to fall victem to this near the town, and, assuming this situation was the 'mystery behind the nightmare' we went to check it out. Nothing odd about the tomb/memorial, except for that under the traditonal name and rest in peace, were what we later found out were words in a song. They were carved in odd, looping waves, but other then that, we found nothing out of place. And we spent a good while inspecting the damn thing. We came back later, too, and Ann found butterfly cocoons; not odd, except for it was the wrong time of year for them, she said.

We finally gave up and came back, and were put, once again, to chores.

Now, Ann had confessed the night before, after seeing her new friend, that she had fallen asleep....and elves, apperantly, don't do that while they're alive and well. But fallen asleep she had, and apperantly, she did again tonight, once we got back in. I wouldn't know; I went to sleep and, for the second night in a row, was rudely jerked awake by her.

And you wonder why my mood stayed bad. I was getting less sleep in this safe shelter then I'd gotten out in the danger zone back home.

But I did as she asked when she wanted me to go get Meyone. I accidentally woke the lady letting us stay here, but she went back to bed without too much fuss. Meyone was more difficult. He still wasn't seeing me, and it took twice for me to get him to listen. But finnally I got the big lug into our bedroom, and Ann explained that she'd seen that horse again, and meant to follow it.

She slipped out the window, and Meyone followed a moment later. I took the time to get into my armour- what, like I was going out without it- and followed after them.

We chased her on her fruitless search for her invisi-horse in the woods near the town for the better part of the night, until the tolling of an alarm bell sent us sprinting back.

We are in so much trouble, was the only thing I could think. I had a feeling I knew at least partly why there had been an alarm set up.

Sure enough, as we got back into town a shocked person announced that he'd found us, that we were alive.

But it wasn't all just us vanishing into the woods. It looked like something very, very big had taken a clawed appendage and just ripped down the side of the building we were in.

I had disturbing flashbacks of things like Primov and Draconians. But none of that was here (at least, as far as I knew) and there was no concivable idea in my mind as to what could have done this. Or why.

We were given a temporary home in the lodgings of another family, where none of us were sure we were safe.

The next few days passed uneventfully. I have never made a bigger fool of myself then I did the next few days, and the more I fucked up, the worse my mood became. And the worse my mood became, the more I fucked up.

I failed pathetically and miserably and trying to get information from childern(I, in fact, pulled a Lim Dul and opened my mouth where I should have kept it shut.)

I accidentally was seen glamouring my armor. I hadn't even thought about being cautiouse, as I was too hot over a mini argument Ann had gotten started with me. (I was getting really fucking sick of her telling me I was the reason we were there. I fucking know that, shut the fuck up before I blow up all the hell over you.) In fact, Ann and I were rather at each other most of the next few days.

Meyone, of course, already knew the information I had managed to get, and more besides, and lorded it over me in his self-righteouse, egotisitical manner that made me want to slap him and damn the consequences. No, he did not do it blantently, but his manner was more then enough to let me know that he'd just gotten his rocks off showing me up.

I had managed to find out about a man named Jules; a man Meyone had already met and spoken to. We went to see him again, and he was willing, if not nessicarily happy, to share what he knew about Ann's hound and the details behind all this that he knew. Apperantly, he'd tried to fool the hound by sending Jhonna into a dark room, then sending a man in to......um, breed. He hoped that if she never knew who this person was, the creature wouldn't be able to hurt him. Just in case, he was apperantly watching, because the thing did come.

And Jules tried to fight it off. It put him down for some time. Took him a nice long while to recover, and the beast got what it was after anyway. Nice try, though, bud, have a go next year, win a prize.

We tried to find out whatever we could on this celebration and some way- any way- we could change or stop it. But we kept hitting brick wall after brick wall, and soon all of us were frustrated and confused. We helped clean up the lady's house during the day. I mentioned that I had not pissed off anything that big lately, and to my surprise, there was something that could have been amusment in Meyone's voice when he asked me if I was sure.

For just a split second, my still raw temper flared, and I had the urdge to be a nasty little thing. But it was gone as fast as it came, and let my voice stay good-natured. I told him the only things I'd pissed off lately were gossipy old ladies, childern, mothers and Ann- and Meyone himself, I added, and was surprise to feel myself smirk wryly at him.

He almost slipped up and smiled back. I think he forgot he hated me for a second. I don't hate him. I just don't know how well we'd do with prolonged exposure to one another.

At night, we had bigger problems.

Ann had had a vision....a horrifying one, apperantly, that had her wake up screaming in the middle of the night.

To my surprise, Meyone revealed he'd had the same nightmare/vision the night before.

Jules told us it wasn't the first time. Outsiders had reported sharing visions with and because of Jhonna before. Still, this felt- differant.

We didn't get any answers when we tried. We were told we could talk to Jhonna and Jhonna's daughter, Sonya, in two day's time, and, in my mind, we should just sit back and wait for that moment before we took action.

We needed more to go on.

I got a lovely vision of my own, though I was awake for mine, and it wasn't as bad as theirs, I expect. I'd really rather not go into detail, though it ended the same way theirs had- with the words the stone eye being screamed. We had already looked high and low for the meaning of those words from their dreams, and come up empty handed.

Mystery behind the nightmare, indeed.

Well, Ann wanted to go see if something was wrong, going on the assumption that if I had gotten the vision now, awake, perhaps Jhonna was awake, too, and there was something amiss. But the house was quiet and dark, and the guards not only blew us off, they lied to us. Or at least omitted something.

I was surprised again, when, coming back, Meyone said that he belived I could very well have been awake during my little session; he said a family member had had it occur. Well what do you know, it speaks. And not just to spit at me.

Well, if he was making an attempt to be civil, I could, too.

When we finally got to see Jhonna two days later, things only got more confusing. In between then and there, we kept seeing that damn symbol in our waking lives; the most drastic being me being so sure that I was going to be crushed into goo via falling post.....when it turned out that it hadn't fallen in my direction, hadn't been a real danger at all.

But the same fucking symbol had poped up, as if it had fallen just to let us see.

Needless to Say, Jhonna didn't help.

According to her, the things we were seeing was our subconciouse trying to give us the answers we were looking for. The horse, the creepy visions, the hound, even, the waking vision- they were all us. And, she went on to make things worse, one or all of us had brought that building down. Our subconciouse had done it, for one reason or another. People have had abilites and traits surface here they never knew they had before, she told us. This place, that little amulet, tended to bring it all out to the fore.

Pretty summed up, what she said was adjust or get out, because she couldn't help us. It wasn't something she was doing.

So what, does that mean that the thing Ivy sent us to figure out isn't really in this town at all? Is it the 'stone eye', whatever the fuck that is? Or something.....something a lot deeper and a lot more ominouse? Is it something to do with Meyone bringing down a building with his mind? Because, as he admited later, he was pretty damn sure he'd been the one to do it. His worry, his concern of danger, had done it. Somehow Ann had sensed he was going to cause the distaster and gotten us out of the way.

Ivy, remind me again why I listen to you.

Wait, scratch that a moment.

Ann, never fucking listen to me!

I am Semei, hear me mew.

Left you hanging a little, there at the last one, didn't I? Heh. Well, yeah, we put our stupid selves in a bad position and got attacked by a vampire for it.

The skeletons he called up- fifteen animal skeletons, at that- were....pathetic. I wiped them out while Ann took to the trees, but before I could get out of the circle that had surrounded me to the others, the vampire fused them into one giant ass skeleton that I held my own against for a few minutes.

Then the son of a bitch flipped me on my ass with it's tail, and I didn't even have time to get angry before pain. Lots and lots of pain as the fucking thing did what felt like it's best to rip me in half. It backed off for a second and I rolled away, drinking a potion and hoping like fuck that Ann was still above me somewhere, in the trees and out of this thing's easy reach.

It's been a long time since Ann and I fought as two seperate entities. That is, normally we're AnnandSemei fighting against a commen enemy, compensating for weaknesses and making sure we both make it out alive, each picking a role and sticking to it.

This time, it was Ann fighting and Semei fighting, and we just happened to be taking on the same thing. I normally know where she is and what she's doing; it's a simple fact that I can just take a bigger beating then she can, and I can hold out longer. She's stealth, I'm power, and if I don't remember that and know where she is, the next time I see her it'll be unconciouse on the ground.

This fight, though, it was enough that last time I'd seen her she'd been up. I stopped fucking caring after that, because I was the one quickly loosing bodily fluids with a vampire advancing on me.

Me. I didn't have his fucking king's blood!

I did, though, have his armour. Yeah. My beautiful, wonderful armor I love so much? Yeah, apperantly it was his, once. Just my luck the old owner would turn out to be a fucking vampire when most people just go off and quietly die when they're killed.

You know, when a guy that's come back from the dead twice as powerful, twice as pissed, twice as mean, and twice as arrogent, and twice as demanding wants his shit back? Playing 'finders keepers' isn't a great idea.

But it's mine now, damn it, and I don't go down without fighting. Besides, the bastard hit me, pretty fucking hard. So, watching Ann pop around me in the trees like a fucking squirrel, I stuck my knife in the back of a fuck-knows-how-old vampire.

I think poking a tree would have gotten a more emotional response. Hell, I think it tickled.

Then he turned around, and looked at me. Just- looked.

.....I don't, really don't, like being mind-fucked. Seriously. Not fun. Not fair. Low fucking blow, jackass. But there it is, and there I was, mooning like a calf over him, perfectly ready to strip my hard-won prize off and hand it back to him. Once, I almost came out of it- or, almost nearly came out of it, it was that tiny a moment- but then nope, nada, drooling calf again.

Then Ann tackled me. Full on, body-to-body slam that had us hitting the earth hard and did nothing to bring me around. But the man- Salic, we found out his name was, later- found his job much easier. Two for the price of one, and he caught me up with stone- stone, where the fuck had that come from?- bonds that Ann managed to wriggle out of. So she took off, and when she did, Salic jerked the knife from the tree where I'd stuck it getting ready to damn well strip, and put it to my throat.

And told Ann my life was in her hands, which meant I was ass-fucked.

I knew it, cold and sharp, all through me in this distant, chilly tingle. I felt weirdly calm, strangly okay with this, with knowing I was about to die, was going to die, here and now.

I wasn't scared- pissed as fuck, but not scared- and half jokingly considered the idea of being revived a second time, if it was possible and if Ann would do it.

I'd died once already, and hey, once you jump in, does it matter how deep the water is? What matters is what's waiting for you there, and that's the only thing that frightened me.

He asked me which of them I hated more. The man willing to kill me or the person willing to let me die. And at first, I honestly couldn't answer. And then I lied.

I told him 'both of you'.

That was a lie.

I didn't hate Ann. I don't. I'm- I expected nothing more and nothing less. It's why I knew so clearly when it happened that I'd die. Knew that Ann would let this man kill me, and would consider it a sacrifice well made.

And in reality, so do I.

For Talron. And only for Talron.

My words, though, made him offer me 'revenge'. Half-hoping it'd give me a chance to get back of level footing, to keep him talking, I asked what that might be, and he simply beared his fangs.

I surprised myself when I replied instantly 'no'. No amount of revenge was worth it. Even if I'd really wanted Ann's head, I'd already played the role of monster. Once is more then enough.

And there the conversation ended, because there, with a snarled 'fine', he slit my throat.

....I won't go into that. I won't go into how he started to feed off me. I don't think I could. I won't try. I knew, somewhere, that Ann was playing with the big skeleton. I knew she hurt it when I felt him flinch, and then again when he pulled away.

Then he chased her through the trees, while I tried to get free. And failed. Miserably.

I was only aware when she killed him when I saw a flaming ball that had been Mr. Blood-sucker go tumbling to the earth, crying out in pain.

Yes, Ann single-handedly took on a vampire. Yes, I am aware how pathetic this entire fucking story makes me look. Shut up.

Moments after he went down, who else but King and Ivy showed up, King freeing me and Ivy watching coldly while Ann made the killing blow to the vampire, retreving her dagger back from him. I think I told him I loved him. I think I cussed. A lot. Colorfully. I don't really remember. I'm surprised I said anything. I could've been hugging his leg and gotten dragged along for half a mile, for all I care.

Ann made the mistake of asking Ivy why she would be branded traitor, and both of them huffed and puffed for a bit but, of course, didn't do anything else about it and certianly didn't give her a reply. We did go, though, to what I assume is the place Ivy and King call 'home'. A horrible, cold place, with plants that sucked the life out of the earth and a general desolate feel, but oddly, I felt perfectly safe. At least, in the company of this pair. We moved inside Ivy's building of choice, past her courtyard- and I was warned not to use my healing potion, not here, as things didn't work like you'd think here- and stepped into a room considerably warmer and more brightly lit.

Ivy has an alchemist's lab.

Ivy has one fuck of an alchemist's lab.

Let's suffice to say she didn't want to just drink Talron's blood.

When we'd just met King and Ivy- before we were absolutly positive it was King and Ivy, as a pair- Ann and I had invited King inside the shelter we'd taken for the night. And he'd been as trusting as a mouse in front of a tiger. Dispit the fact that he could easily have taken us both, he'd been wary of us. Harsh, when the first thing you expect from someone inviting you inside is a trap.

Ivy's first instinct was to think I was tricking her with the blood. Giving her someone else's and calling it Talron's. And rather then be threatened or intimidated, I felt a bit- not sad, exactly, dissapointed isn't right, either- that she'd immediatly think we'd do that. Hell, wouldn't that other blood-sucker turning up be enough to proove it was the real deal?


She explained that she wanted his blood for the memories he had- memories of three thousand years. Not that she thinks he's three thousand years old. Honestly, I had my own doubts about it. She told us he was, as beast as she can tell trapped, held in Nabudel for what seemed to him to be only twelve years. Ironically enough, he was the one that, she said anyway, made the protective warding, sheilding, whatever you want to call it, around Nabudel, and it was fading as his own magic did. His own what, again?

This is just getting us in deeper and deeper.

But, she said, he was without a doubt the King of Nabudel, she knew that for a fact. No mistaking it, not after what happened next.

She was- is- trying to find a 'door' to Nabudel. Find it before undesierables do, first. Because, she said, there was a chance that if things kept going the way the are, there was a chance any old someone could just walk into Nabudel and use what they found there. So she wants to get there first, and then?

Well, I don't know what she plans on doing then. But she hoped his memories might help.

It didn't.

After she played with, then drank her little prize, there was about two-point-five heartbeats where we all, inlcuding herself, experianced a wave of well wasn't that just as anti-climatic as all fucking hell?

And then she stummbled.

I'm glad- really, really glad- I didn't step forward to help the way instinct wanted me to. Because if you have never seen what looked like the undead version of a person having fits, it's just not pretty. I was honestly scared for her, for a moment, even with King holding onto her, supporting her as best as possible- she put some major gashes into him, too. I was honestly scared for us, when those fangs of hers flashed, when we saw her wings. Magnificent. Horrible. Terrifying. Amazing.

Confusing as fuck, friends.

When she seemed okay again- after she was done gasping for breath, as if she could breathe- she told us my magnificent king had crammed his memories into the proper twelve year span without even trying, and that there was no way she could make much sense of it. It left her dizzy and out of sorts, and it got us no where and only frustrated. She said she'd be alright, though, and I would, too- she checked my neck and the bit wound left on me.

She told us who the man had once been- not a very nice guy, let me say, a power hungry ruler with issues galore- and advised us to avoid the man who had once owned Ann's bow. Though she did add that his bark might be worse then his bite.

And then I got the start of a lifetime. I didn't have to worry about eventually heading south, or what if Ann didn't want to go there. Because Ivy suggested we did, to find out more about the crystal in our packs and for some reason of her own, as well. She warned me, though, not to wander off the beaten path in search of my own- in other words, no Damon hunting- and to find a man named Danelle, in a town called Jaradul.

She warned us to be very, very careful. Avoid the shadows that don't move, she said, stay with people, travel during the day, and don't be heros. And Ann should not be an elf. If we wanted to go, there was a ship in port, for three days. Not a lot of time to decide. My mind was already made up, even while part of me shook it's head in violent denial. Bad idea, that part of me screamed. Bad. Idea.

I think that little corner of me is called 'commen sense', and I don't often listen to it much.

And with that, we let King escort us out. I teased him about man-handling a lady- wherein Ann informed me no lady used language like mine, which was true enough. He laughed and I stuck my tongue out, and I don't think he quiet knew if he should rip it out of my mouth and shove it up my ass, or tolerate me the way he had been.

Sue me. I know King is fucking dangerouse. Give me a fucking break, we all are, on some level. Even Ann. Even me.

Everyone we call companion or friend around us is. Some more, some less, but they all are, and I don't go tipy-toeing around Ann just because she could put a dagger in my back. Could. I treat Ann like I treat Simon like I treat Dagon like I treat Talron like I treat Damon. Like freinds, even if it's only to a point.

The only people I handle more cautiously are the ones such as Madam Dryad, out there in the woods. And her less out of fear and more out of 'if I don't say this just right she'll tell me to get fucked and we'll be back at round one'. I don't fear her, but I know when the time comes for me to measure and watch what I say and how I say it. And Master Hunter, as well, because I don't know him well, and because I respect him. And he? Could kick my ass without blinking. And would. If Ann or I ever happened to become lycan again, our newfound partnership with monkey-toes would be ended in a blink.

But King? King does not frighten me. Simple as that, friends. Almost never has, really; only for a day or two, upon our first rocky encounters. He's not bad, no matter what Illoria thought, and he's certianly far from really, truely evil. Dangerouse, yes. Issues galore, why not. Bad attitude, gruff, raw, mercanary, all that is without a doubt true.

But he protected me, even if Ivy told him to do it. He went beyond what he had to, and I remember plain as anything the way he did it. Almost willingly. And I felt absoultly, perfectly safe with him, being alone with him.

Aside from the fear that I might wind up with a cracked rib if he tossed me again.

But I degress, now.

My point is that I stuck my tongue out the same way I would have at Ann, and when he snarled I just grinned my biggest grin and waved. He stared at me for a long moment. I admit, no matter how not-afraid I might be of him, that stare is damned unnerving, combined with those fucking teeth, but I held the grin and I managed to mean it until the snarl went away. Then he took us home.

And nearly made me laugh out loud when I thanked him, and he actually said, 'you're welcome, my lady'.

I could almost hear the 'so there'. Point to King, allow me to be all appologies.

He pointed us in the right direction for home, we said our goodbyes, he took off again and we headed back.

And we began to get ready to go South.

After we'd bought supplies and packed, I headed off to say....goodbye.....to Talron.

There was a time, I know there was a time, where I could form coherant sentances around this man. I damned well remember it. I remember being able to bless him right the fuck out. Hell, I'm sure I still could.

But when he starts getting all- all- gentle with me, every word I think of goes out the window, and I am either going to cry or laugh.

I warned him that I was going to try and find Damon, and bring him back here. For answers, for his own saftey. And I warned him that I might not- for one or another reason- come back at all.

I expected him to at least ask 'why', but instead he said he'd have to learn how to sail. And that's when my brain turned to mush and leaked out my ears.

He'd come and find me. He'd as good as said he'd come and find me, or try to, if I didn't return.

And you wonder why I'm falling into a black hole over this man.

It only got worse when he said he'd make sure a latern was lit and hung from that tree in the courtyard until our return. Mine.

.....Why am I trying to find Damon again? Damon who?

That was a joke, people. A joke.

And off we went to the South, on a ship that looked like shit when we boarded but turned out to be hugely grand and very comfortable- I have no fucking idea what they did to it- and in two uneventful weeks, we reached the place that I had once called 'home'.

A place where you couldn't go outside after dark, where dark came early and left late, as if the sun was lazy or sleepy and couldn't be bothered to do it's job properly. A place where monsters spent the entierty of the first night scratching at the walls and running about outside the walls, giving me the willies. Where the doors had no locks (if there were doors) and people stayed in close packs like frightened sheep.

A place of unparraled beauty. Horses running across the wilderness and a lot of wilderness at that. It was breathtaking, during the day, magnificently lovely to look at.

Made you wonder what hid under the surface of the seemingly calm water, what monster waited for you to be foolish enough to enter.

We were the only two going to Jaradul, and our trip was taken at a startlingly fast pace with horses that didn't seem to tire, in almost utter silence. The man riding with us was tense and on full alert, and it didn't make for a comfortable trip.

We stoped, ten minutes out from our destination. 'The horses won't go further', the man said, and told us it was ten minutes on foot, and to be fast.

No arguments from either of us. The path leading to the city was very pretty, with sun streaming through trees and flowers and trees and greenery and plants.

But there were patches of shadow that didn't move, and things burrowing under the ground. Right at us, and fast.

We hit the gates at a full sprint, slamming it behind us, panting and wide eyed like two foxes that had just barely made the saftey of their den.

The city was empty.

Deserted, not a sign of life anywhere, and looked as if it'd been that way for some time. I could read the writting on the signs, even though this place held no memory for me- I suppose I saw it somewhere before, while living here- and the signs swinging outside every building was a family name.....with etchings, tallies, underneath.

I did not think it was number of family members. It looked more like number of dead.

Plauge. I couldn't be positive, of course, but I had the sinking feeling it's what happened here.

Swearing to myself in frustration and wondering what the fuck we were meant to do now, with no one alive and no way back besides on foot, we heard the sounds of life.



A man, with a bald head and a scrap hiding his vital parts, and not very fucking much else. Any other situation and I'd have been blushing, but this man was hauling a cart that made my stomach sink, going from house to house.

Counting the dead- checking, maybe, for any left alive. When he slipped into another building, I walked up to it- and knocked. Yes, I knocked, okay?

He cracked the door open, and simply watched as I explained myself- the stuck out a tongue that had been cut off. No help from this one.

He did, though, take us to people that could help.

A temple, full of men that looked much like himself, (though all these, thankfully, seemed to have tongues.) And we were lead to a man who seemed to be their leader.

I came straight out with it- who we were looking for, though not the full truth of 'why'. I'd been right, too, about it being a plauge- people suddanly just started dropping dead. No symptoms. This temple full of men (yes, men, we were the only females) belived their faith had saved them.

The man knew I had at least been born here- though I don't know how-and knew Danelle, and said not to go around pronouncing his name, that his art was forbidden. But Danelle hadn't been here for this , had left before it happened, and if we wanted to find it, we were to go to a place called Farrah, two days away on foot, and help with them with the 'mystery behind their nightmare'.

So much for not being heros.

So much for only traveling during the day.

But we were given as escort- only one man brave enough to stand up at this leader's request and offer to help keep us alive (or try to, anyway) on the road. Of course, our escort turned out to be this man's son. His name was Mayone, and once he escorted us-

-he couldn't go back. A sacrfice more then I ever expected from a group of strangers. He was very interested in Ann, in her elvishness, and to my surprise, she seemed....interested back.

Two days walk, hu?

This could be fun.

Emotionally worn. Soon to be physically damaged. Again. Who knew.

So we got back to the keep. And we rushed through, going with the next morning’s shipment of fish almost straight through to the citadel. We arrived without any notable incident, but once there the trouble began.

First we went to my shopkeeper friend about the psy crystal in my pack. He took it without fear and apperantly talked to it, and informed us it didn’t seem to be evil or have bad intentions. He didn’t talk to it much or get much information from it, but enough to sooth our concerns. He did know a little about the monster it had been placed in, but again, not much.

It was after Ann challenged him on the size of the sandworm he’d said he wanted us to kill that he stopped, and regarded me for a long, long time. I don’t know what about the sandworm comment made him ask it, but ask he did.

He didn’t ask me if I was alright- he flat out asked what was wrong.

And so I told him- everything I knew and remembered.

And I got one fuck of a shock.

This guy knew me since I was a little girl, and he knew my parents. I was surprised to find out that they were even still alive, let alone knew anyone in this area- and with him, my entire perception of just what the fuck is going on here started to change.

This man told me information on my past that literally made everything I said in the last entry null and void. Damon isn’t the one to blame, here- I am.

The shop keeper told me that I’d come into his place since I was small with my father, and then with Damon- my father, apperantly is a wizard who’d been here long before Damon ever came over scouting for the wizards, who’d lived in sanctuary here. I’d stayed with my mother, who’d apperantly not been thrilled with my father’s choice to deal more in necromantic arts. She, this little man said, was more connected to life. She and my father had split up some years ago, before I’d lost my memories (or even before I’d met Damon) and he didn’t know where she’d gone.

He said my father was a great man- apperantly they’d been friends- and that himself and my mother, on the other hand, had never really gotten along.

And he said that Damon and I had not been in love. He said that to him, who’d known me since I was little, it seemed like an act- a good act, but never the less. He said that Damon seemed to be very much in love with me, though.

So yeah. Seems I’ve had this entire thing just fucking backwords.

Damon’s not the nasty , manipulative son of a bitch- apperantly, anyway. Apperantly, that’s all on me.

You know what really is fucked up? I would do that. Make someone think I was head over heels for them to get them to do what I wanted.

Yeah, I’m a bitch.

Anyway.

The shopkeeper told me that my father was in the wizard’s tower that we’d wound up kind of inadvertently helping spring up inside the citadel. He said that he no longer held the sway he once had, but he’d contact my father for me.

After I’d gotten a little more information on myself- and doesn’t that just sound painful?- we thanked him and left. And we headed back to my tomb- and that is still as eerie as fuck to say- to…..make sure it was just an empty tomb.

And it was, too. I felt rather silly when we left it, empty-handed and without even a hint of anything….wrong.

The grave keeper, with some pushing, told us what the spirits he spoke to said Damon said. The whole ‘it should have been me’ bullshit again. But nothing else, and nothing useful, so once more we left.

And now we pick up on the second half of our storyline; that of a girl named Sparrow, apperantly. Or at least called Sparrow. After human ‘Ann’ became elven ‘Anjha’, I’m not really trusting any moniker given to me via my pointy-earred companion any time soon.

Ann lost Sparrow a long time ago. That is to say, they were, apperantly, good friends, and then she took off over here from her home, and then she vanished. And Ann came looking. Says something about Ann, really, that does, to up and leave your home to find a friend that might be dead or worse.

So yeah, Ann’s been looking for this girl, and, I think I mentioned before, right before the whole
Primov thing we’d been sent on a wild goose chase through her subtle puzzles.

This will be relevant in a few minutes.

But while looking for a kid that Ann had known about a year ago, who might be able to help us out, we saw him. That fucking little Halfling wise ass who’d half taunted, half teased me while Ann fought his companion. He was standing on the corner, watching us with a glower- watching Ann.

We headed in that direction. Origonally, I intended to be what I usually was when Ann was dealing with anything in this line- a quiet protective shadow, playing the role of simple brawn, rarely speaking.

I mean, it’s for more than one reason; partly because it’s what I am in this situation. I don’t know enough about it to be more. Ann naturally grabs the lead, just as I do when dealing with

Damon and his ilk, and she knows more specific questions to ask- hell, she’s better at that then I am, anyway.

So I only speak when I think she’s forgetting something that might be important, and I’m usually wrong, or when she needs to be told to shut the fuck up and stop provoking- which she will deny vehementaly-or when I get pissed off, or when the conversation takes a bad turn.

And I had to do that in spades now. Nearly immediately the Halfling started off the conversation agressivly, with attitude- and of course, Ann responded in kind. Always did. Hell, I can’t say I’m completely innocent of doing that myself. I managed to defuse most of the situation, though the tension hung in the air anyway. The Halfling knew Sparrow, knew she was in danger, knew more about it even then Ann, knew that we- she- was looking for the other elf. He didn’t give us much information- any, really. He more like told us- through a sort of riddley manner- that they’d….worked?....with her, didn’t think Ann was the one good for this ‘mission’- I assumed meaning that of finding her. Told us to stop asking questions, stop trying to find them, stop leaving trails and stop being so easy to trail, which pissed Ann off to no end and made me rather embaressed.

He told us not to trust him- but who else could she trust?- and then slipped off into the crowd.
Ann went after him, and came back to me a few minutes later as a cat. A disgruntled cat- apperantly she lost him. I’m not utterly surprised, though frustrated for her. I understand what it’s like, to want answers so badly and not have them. We continued our search for the kid, but with the exception of some little brat that wanted to be paied, we found nothing. I made a note to go back to the girl, who reminded me so much of Min it made me a bit ill.

We left, then, and headed back to the same, eerie part of the citadel we’d gone to so many times before- the little area the menagerie called it’s own. We meandered through the actual show itself, hoping to speak to our tour guide. But the man was worse then talking to the fucking Cyclops. All he’d say was that he gave tours.

Then he shut the door in my face. I’ll tell you, I’d had just about enough of people shutting me down like that.

I bit down on the temptation to kick it. Or just open it myself, in a slightly less conventional manner.

Very hard.

I may have given into that urge, if Ann hadn’t gone to where the dog-boy- who’d I’ve started to call ‘Mogli’- and his intemidatingly tall (isn’t everyone, just about, to me?)….master? lived- or at the least stayed. Ann’d brought us here looking for information on something called a Cloaker.

What is a cloaker, you ask? One nasty son of a bitch. Unlike beholders, I’ve never actually dealt with one that I can remember (and with beholders, that was only a matter of weeks ago. It feels a lot longer.) but I don’t need to have. Imagine you find a pretty cloak, or cowl, just- hanging somewhere. Oh, nice, you think, lucky me, I’ll be a cheap asshole and steal this pretty cloak or cowl I happened to find.

So you do, and then, later, you learn why being a cheap asshole is bad. One of the reasons, anyway.

Because no sooner do you steal yourself this lovely item, then does it come to life and try and kill you. And I’ll tell you what, unless you’re really fucking good or really fucking lucky, then there’s probably not much ‘try’ involved.

Ann fought one, once; it had Lim by the nape, and if he’d not gone were, I may have never met a one Lim Dul. Or at least, not as such.

They don’t live on our plane, that’s one thing- they can’t survive long, unless someone keeps them alive. They feed off chaos, off streams of the stuff, and the people who bring them here usually feed it to ‘em somehow, until they’ve done what the person brought them to do, I guess.

They use them as attack dogs, pretty much, although we were also told they could be trained, to a point.

The person who told us all this was referred to us by the tall man, and was a dwarf with a metal, telescopic eye on his head. ‘A nasty got him once’, he said. Gruff, rugged, brisk and sharp, but calm and oddly likable.

He gave us more information then he really should or could have for the amount we could pay, and perhaps information that would, eventually, be helpful. At least now we know more about the little fuckers.

We left the man’s building, escorted out by a man who’d brought us in- a man who was half mechanical, like the captian that we’d gone to about the hunt, but who seemed incapable of doing anything but grunting at us.

Didn’t really seem to be a rude grunt, though. And yes, there are different kinds. Because I said so. Pay attention sometime, and you’ll see I’m right. If anything, it was oddly expressive, and made it hard not to smile. That would have been rude.

As it went, we headed back down to the graveyard, this time without bothering the gravekeeper, and inspected the mosleum- much larger and more expensive then my own, but then, this one actually held bodies, and more then one at that, and was made by people who had money to spare. This was the same place I’d been- what, months ago, now?- with this lot, looking into something called a deadwood tree and a bloodline of a family full of people that weren’t so nice.

It’s a long story, but it has to do with Toby, that ‘special’ friend I mention all the time, and lots of people dead, and perfume that you just don’t want to fuck with, and a corrupt clergy. Yeah.

Corrupt clergy trying to win power in the worst way they could possibly want to do so, and pissing Toby off something fierce. Because for them to get this, he’d have to take a nosedive and let their little masterpiece take his place.

Can you guess what Toby is yet? Like I’ve just been so helpful.

Anyway. I won’t get too far into that, either, because there is no corrupt clergy, not anymore.

There was never a corrupt clergy that anyone ever knew of outside of us and a few important people, and I doubt they’d like it much if they knew I was writing about it.

But suffice to say this place was not a nice one, and these people not good ones, in so much as I knew. Ann had last seen the cloaker she’d fought here, but there was no sign of it or anyone in or around this thing. Dead end.

So we went back to the ally where I’d found the girl, and I wound up paying the little bitch to take me to the kid Ann’s met. Who turned out to be her brother….who was now a squire. Apperantly mostly due to Ann.

See, good things do happen because of us! Or at least, her.

The kid was nervous and jittery, but he knew he owed Ann, so in he went and came out with the man who’d taken him on. Watching him, listening to the word-play of this man and Ann, I didn’t see anything that struck me as not right about him, not blatently. I like kids, from babies up, and hoped this guy was treating that one decently. I should have payed more attention to the man, but I had my attention of Ann’s questioning. The red-haired man knew the symbol Ann had, called them ‘spies’, said that we weren’t enemies with them or we’d be dead already. He told us they didn’t test people very often, and that to be doing this, they had to have really liked Ann’s friend- or respected her, at least.

He didn’t want to say much else, but what he did say…..at the very least eased my hackles. This group seemed to be beneviolent, in the general whole, towards us. Just…..wanted something big from Ann.

The same force in me, driving me to find out about Damon and his group, is now coursing in me again, though. I want to know. I want to know who these people are, and what the fuck Ann’s friend is running from.

I can’t say I’m especially emotionally tangled up in it. I don’t know this girl, and I don’t paritcuarly care about her. I do know Ann, though, and I do care about her, to a degree. She’s been beside me throughout the entire chaos that is Damon and my rapidly-becoming obsession, the least I can do is shadow her through this. And so I will, as far and long as I can.

But the point remains that, while Ann and I make a pretty good team, we have devided interests. And our interests are on two separate roads, hers spinning off over the mountains to the desert, mine right here at home and then sliding down a cold path to the south. There was, at first, no doubt in me that I’d be going west with her when she went. It was just default. She’s something like a partner, and I something like defer to her, and when the thought of going where she went came up, I didn’t second guess myself. I didn’t like leaving Talron, and yeah, I was scared as fuck, but oh well. It wasn’t even a question in my mind. If she’d want me, I’d go. She needs someone at her back, and it’s nice having someone at mine.

But now I have to wonder. Now that I do have my own set of interests, and it’s not a matter of

‘I have nothing better to do, why the fuck not?’, what happens if I don’t want to go west? Do I have a choice? Would it make a difference?

I told Damon I’d go with him. I wouldn’t have expected Ann to come with us, wouldn’t have even wanted her to. It’s my business and my problem- if she’d trailed along, I’d be okay with that, but I’d be just as okay if she’d wanted to stay.

Yeah, I’ll explain that in a second.

I just don’t know, and it’s too early to worry about it.

Anyway. After we investigated this tomb, we went back to the one for me- and watched Damon put a flower on it, place his hand on it, and then lower his head and walk away.
I was torn like a wild animal for a long time, then I turned and bolted, racing around to cut him off.

I was leaning back, propped up lazily when he walked by, eyes on the ground. And, suddenly, feircly, I wanted-

To hurt him, to hate him. I wanted him to hate me. Wanted him pissed off, wanted to be pissed. I wanted to make him feel the sick twisting in my gut, wanted to see something on his face besides anger or bitter amusment. I wanted to see emotion there, wanted to see what my words did to him, wanted to see him hurt. I wanted it, right then and there, more then I’d ever wanted anything in my entire fucking life. I wanted him bleeding in front of me, wanted an honest reaction, wanted him to loath me and scorn me. I wanted to see if he really cared. I didn’t want him to care. I wanted this to be hard. I wanted it to be easy. Everything I thought I’d made choices about flew out the damned window. I was as confused and mixed up as I’d ever been, and right then, right fucking there, I wanted him down.

All I was sure of in that moment was that if I couldn’t cut him with my dagger, I’d do it with my tongue. Sometimes, I’m better with that, anyway. I was in that cold place again, the place I’d been when we’d met Simon, where everything was cold and clear as a pond in winter, and all I knew was hurt him hurt him hurt him hurt him.

And I did, too. Or I tried my damndest. But for every sharp, sarcastic word, he presented soft applogies and seemingly heart-felt pain. For every demanded answer, I got a quiet, achingly sad avoidance.

His voice, his eyes would have broken my heart if I’d been talking with Talron. He looked like a kicked puppy, and soon that cold, clear place started to muddle up again, and I started to feel like I was kicking a puppy. I couldn’t make him bite me. Once, he came close- once, I pissed him off. Well and truly got his hackles up, I saw it. I saw it come and go just as fast, and you know what? He had no fucking right to be pissed off anyway.

But while he wouldn’t bite, he did nip rather hard; he knew where to poke and how to defend himself. I threatened to kidnap him; he challenged me to try. I demanded he tell me which way to jump; he told me figure it out your own damn self, moron, in so many words. I called him on the Man In Black, and, once again angry, he vehemently insisted they didn’t work for him. I told him he’d die
trying to stop Feng. He told me I was wrong. I told him I only cared because he had my answers.

He called me a lier.

I told him the truth. He looked as fucking smug as a fox who’d gotten away with the henhouse.

He also told me it was my father’s fault I’m in this situation. He told me my father trusted me more then him- belived in me more.

He told me he was going after Feng, back ‘home’, back to the south, after him to stop him. And that he’d send word to me when he came back alive.

Now I was only confused and upset again, and, with him about to leave, sorry I’d set out to wound. I hugged him with an apology and then I let him go….fighting the urge to just kidnap him the entire time. He’d said I was welcome to try, but in an hour they’d come looking for him. And they’d bring him back.

And then I watched him go, and I thought, I let him go. Maybe I should let him go. But I knew I never could.

We made one last pit stop, checking on the shop keeper to make sure he was okay after talking with me, and then we headed out again. We made it back to the keep with no incidents, and by the time we’d gotten back, I’d worked myself up again. I marched up to the keep, eyes on my feet, entire body stiff and jaw set, mind racing. I stormed past everyone, shoved past gaurds and maids alike, slammed into Talron’s chambers and grabbed him by the wrists where he sat.

I lead up to what I’d done slowly and distinctly, without looking at him, but when it came to saying what I’d actually done, I spat it all out so fast I didn’t understand me.

Apperantly, he did though, and his expression was utterly unreadable. And then he said, pretty much- ‘okay’.

I was kind of shell-shocked. I stayed kind of shell-shocked when he admitted he’d been frightened I’d been going to say I’d gotten back with Damon.

That, apperantly, was worse then being offered as food to a vampire. He wasn’t happy with it, that’s for fucking sure, nor my way of getting it. But we got it, and he wasn’t pissed at me. In fact, he seemed faintly amused, as well- frightened, upset, amused, and faintly annoyed.

And when we left, he still hoped to see me at dinner. I couldn’t be happy about it.

There was too much I had to discuss with him.

I never got the chance, at least, not that night.

Y’ see, the bat-shit insane vampire showing up kind of distracted me.
Walking out in the middle of the night with a cup of ancient blood?

Really bad fucking idea.

Two for the price of one.

I needed to write again. Just because so much has been happening so fast, and life just calmed down enough for things to settle. 'Course, settling means my stomach's in fifty fucking knots, and my chest is tight, like I've gone stupid and broke a rib, and not done anything about it.

I'm scared. Like, really fucking scared, if I stop and give myself a moment to think about it. Everything seems bigger then me right now; feels like I'm caught up in a current too fast and hard to fight.

But some things- some things aren't so confusing anymore.

Like Damon, for instance.

I still- I want, so, so badly to belive him. He seems- they all seem- so.....so oddly gentle. I don't know if that's the right word, here. And frightened, in a way. And sincere. And some vauge, distant part of me wants....it's horrible, but some part of me enjoys the thought. On, come on, what female wouldn't? It's exciting and romantic, isn't it, the entire concept? Of a husband and wife standing side by side for a goal, the tragically sad seperation, the man trapped with memory and the woman lost without one, the thought of being the queen in this game of chess rather then a pawn.

Something you'd find in a story. I like the thought of it being true. I want Damen to be crying over me, because then it is true.

But there is a differance between heart and head. And while that is all what my heart thinks, my head won't shut up, either. And I know which is better to listen to.

My head tells me isn't it a little odd that you're not allowed to know or remember anything? My head tells me that isn't it a little odd that Damn visits an empty (?) gravesite on the same day at the same time, and cries over someone he knows is alive and well? My head tells me that if it were so important that I know nothing, I would still be in the dark. My head tells me that no one good could associate with someone like The Man In Black.

I yes, I did question weather or not my gravesite held anything. It's a bit odd of him to go there like that. I'm planning on a bit of nosing around there.

Our werehunter's words are still ringing in my head, his question about why anyone who supposedly loved me would let me be in the situation I'm in. It's a good question.

Talron.....is a good man. One of the best I think I've ever met. Strong and dependable, brave, powerful, kind, feirce, loyal.

I don't know Damon. I do know this man. I will not loose him to what may or may not be someone I once cared for in the past.

I will not loose him to my own fucking idiocy.

Talron is mine, now. Has been mine, I think, before I ever openly claimed it. And I do not share.

Ivy.....vampire you may be, but you just remember that. I do not share my toys. And if I so much as think you're going to hurt him or sink your talons into him- if I so much as think I've mislayed my trust, I don't care what you are or how old. I don't care how powerful you are or who you have protecting you. It may take the rest of my life. I may die trying. But if my Talron is hurt-

I will destroy you.

Degressing.

The were.....must be destoryed. Every last one in the citadel, they need to die. Now. Soon. Before lycanthropy changes anymore and it's impossible. It's a last minute, desperate resort, and I won't even inquire into it if I don't think we've utterly hit a dead end, but- if we can't get help from the werehunter, why not go from the other end of the bridge?

Can't be turned were if you already are. It's mearly an issues of how far I trust King. How far I trust Ivy. And right now, I'm not sure that's too far. I don't mistrust them, exactly....but do I trust them enough to make myself that vulnerable? Trust them enough to let King turn me?

And then there's the matter of Simon, who I'm faintly concerned for. It's only been a few days, but it feels like longer- and I don't like not knowing what's going on. I don't like not having control of the situation. And you know, we've been convinentaly forgetting what pulled my little rag tag band of- um, allies?- together in the first place, that is right smack bang in the place we've sent Simon devling. Okay, maybe that's not exactly true, but it's not untrue, either.

I'm talking, of course, about the taint. You know, that little thing we've been so fucking able to forget in the flow of everything else? Yeah, you don't just forget something that can turn you into a walking nightmare if you fucking piss it off. Or, you know, just happen to be unlucky enough to be standing there, minding your own business.

We need to find out more about it, is my point. Not that I especally want to, nor have any real reason to.

I mean, why do I care about some disease killing off people I don't know? Except for that it might not always be people I don't know. And won't that be a bitch, if I say 'fuck all of you, deal with it your own stupid selves', and then poof, someone I really kinda like ends up caught by it. I mean, if it happens to me, it's as simple as making Ann- or rather, letting Ann- kill me, no problem, what the fuck ever. I like living, but I'm not stupid.

But it's more complecated if it's someone else.

And then, of course, there's the little group that attacked Ann just a few nights ago. That's mostly what we're going into the citadel for, Ann and I, to see if we can find out who these people are and what they want. Plus, I kind of want to see what else we can find out via the theif's guild, if anything. Seems like these are people it might be good to get information from, now that I know what information I actually want.

We're still in way over our heads, but you know? These are the things we can handle; the things we can deal with, right now. Baby steps, and whatever else happens, happens, right? But I know I'm done with playing right into people's hands, and I won't do it anymore. I will find out what I want to find out, and no one will stop me. I will get what I want, and no one will stop me.

As for the ultimate evil, the threat to the world, the set of events destined to be set off, the events we set in motion that could destory everything?

Well, we'll just have to burn that bridge when we come to it, as the saying goes, right? Handle what we can now, and maybe- just maybe- we can actually stay above water in this current, instead of drowning.