There is always hope...

[Miri]

Celandra, her pure white hair shining brightly in the morning sunlight, walked the streets of Magincia on her way to pick up her daily orders.  She had awoken happy, and in her own bed for a change.  Often, over these past weeks, she had awoken in Gorn's strong arms and slipped out of the bed before he had begun to stir.  Last night, however, Gorn had had business elsewhere and thus she had gone to the house her mother and almost-father had built.
As per usual, she had risen early and made the short trip to town, but whilst she would normally have stopped to speak to anyone and everyone she met, today she had gone straight to the shops and claimed the deeds.  Now, on her way back to the moongate, she heard the sound of anger and sadness from the locals and stopped for a moment to listen.  What she heard filled her heart with dread.
No! surely it could not be true!
Gorn would not have turned away from everything he knew and loved.  He was too good, too strong, too noble and honourable for that!
She opened her mouth to make an uncustomary angry response to the accusations, but then she heard the damning words...
Arcane Ritual... Taken and forced into subservience, just like the elf... totally against his will...
Suddenly she found she could listen no more.  Without so much as a good day, Celandra walked past the crowd and straight through the gateway to Eldenari.
She had to see Gorn, had to be sure that what they said was true.  Even if it was, she mused, chewing on her lower lip as she walked almost blindly past the hostile creatures on her way to his home, he would not hurt her, surely?  He had told her he loved her... she was sure he had meant it, or else why would he have uttered such a thing?
No, she decided, if there was even a vestige of what had made him Gorn left inside his ravaged body, he would fight the deamon to ensure she would come to no harm.  She had faith in him.  She had to believe that there was something left of the human she knew, no matter how deeply buried.
Her pace quickened as she neared his home.  She could only hope that he would be there.  She had to see him, had to know if there was anything left, had to discover if there was any hope...


                         *************************************************


Minerva stood on the balcony of her home and surveyed the surrounding woodlands.  She had felt the power used last night and she knew it's meaning.  She also knew, thanks to whispers on the wind, who had been violated.
Weak, she raged in the silence of her own mind.  Too weak!  Them as well as myself!  They fall like sparrows without wings, bound by magics that had been outlawed by the first High King of her people, and there was nothing she could do about it for this was not her world, not her reality.  The laws that all the Races abided by on her own world did not apply here, of that she was sure, and yet it would not matter if they did for the crossing of boundaries had left her strength depleted.
It had to be Gorn, didn't it! She snorted with anger as her slender white hands gripped the balcony railing.
Oh, she had no love for the human and at any other time she would have laughed at his fate, but Celandra had told her of what had transpired between the two yester eve, the admissions made and attachements formed.  She had known Celandra being with the human had not been a good idea, had railed against it from the start, but had made no move to end it for it was her daughter's choice and not her own.  Not once had she considered the possibility of Celandra falling in love with the creature though.  She had known that she would have to be there to pick up the pieces of her daughters broken heart when Gorn died, but she had not expected that to happen for a good few years yet and the fact that Celandra had fallen for him, that just made the clean-up operation so much more difficult.
'Humans,' she growled into the wind.  'Weak and selfish!  And Gorn... Gorn is the worst of them!'
She knew what would happen now: Celandra would seek her aid in rescuing the pitiful wretch and Minerva, being a loving and doting mother, would have little choice but to try.  She never had been able to refuse her daughter anything...
Her emerald eyes narrowed as she stared over the treetops to the orc-infested mountains beyond.  In a fit of pique, she threw the largest explosive fireball she was able to conjure in her weakened state and watched with satisfaction as pieces of orc flew in all directions.  Soon, she knew, she must do her best to aid her beautiful child and then, if the attempt failed, she would see Gorn dead for his betrayal.

[Miri]

(later that day)

Celandra, princess of Sera’Tor upon far away Dor’Valath and Queen of the colonies of Ennor’Galen, walked into the house her mother and almost-father had built.  Today was not a day for her customary smiles, or for her usual cheerful remarks and greetings.  Today had been a trying day indeed.
This morning she had been so happy, so full of life in light of yesterday’s admissions, but that had quickly faded when she had heard the news.  Never one to believe bad things said of good people, she had gone to see Gorn after having retrieved her daily orders from the shopkeepers, but the meeting had not gone well.  What the gossips had said was true: the Gorn she knew, the bright and beautiful soul entrapped in a short-lived, yet wonderfully strong, body was gone.  Something had happened and now the man she had met was no more.
‘Darling, what is bothering you?’
Celandra, startled out of her miserable thoughts by the sweet sounds of simplified Pixie, looked across the room to see her mother.  Minerva usually looked stern, with her ruby red hair, sparkling emerald cats-eyes and angular features.  Celandra knew her mother was more than capable of laughing and joking, but also that the pressures of being High Queen had long since caused her to adopt a somewhat cold and hardened public image.  Only when she looked at her husband or daughter did the love she held for each become plain for all to see.  Now, however, she looked simply concerned.
‘I have learned something I do not like, mother,’ Celandra replied, her speech impeccable now that she was not forced to use a tongue so strange to her.  ‘There is more news of this liche.’
Minerva closed the book she had been reading and placed it to one side before beckoning for Celandra to join her on the comfortable couch.  Celandra, never one to disobey her queen and mother, but knowing that this was neither command nor instruction, walked swiftly across the intervening space and seated herself as near to Minerva as she could.
‘Dear child,’ Minerva murmured, placing an arm around her diminutive daughter and holding her close in a comforting embrace.  ‘Why should the machinations of that creature upset you so?  It has little to do with us, my dear.  I do not think that our laws on magic extend to alternate realities.  The humans and Elves here are unlikely to bow to our will or word and once I find the way home, it will hardly matter.’
‘It is not what they are doing,’ Celandra replied, her rich blue eyes sparkling with unshed tears.  ‘It is what they have done.  Gorn was taken yester eve… just like that nice Elven lady.  They have hurt him… turned him…’
Minerva nodded her understanding.  She recalled the elf being taken and turned.  She had felt the power it had taken to perform such a ritual and Urians anger when he had heard the news.  Then, as now, it was not her business to be interfering in: if those of this reality were so weak as to allow themselves to be taken and infested, then she had no interest in aiding them.
‘Is there anything we can do, mother?’ Celandra asked.  ‘Can we not remove the daemon and give Gorn back his body?  Can we not learn its True Name and use that to cast it out?’
Minerva shook her head and sighed before answering.
‘You know how weak we are at the moment, my darling,’ she said softly.  ‘The world crossing took a lot out of us both, and without the ability to drop form to feed, we are slowly starving to death.  Until I can figure out what is blocking us, there is nothing I can do to help your friend. 
‘I know you loved him, but he was human, Celandra.  He had a mere twenty years in him, maybe a little longer but not much.  Perhaps it is best that he is gone.  Your heart will heal in time.  It is harsh, I know, but he would have died anyway.  Humans do that.’
Celandra nodded once more, the cold logic cutting into her heart like the blades of the Faeries of home had once cut into her people, before her mother and the other people of the Prophecy had banished the vile chaos spawn into the abyss.  However, her heart warred with her mind and she knew without a doubt that she could not let Gorn go in this way.
She gave her mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek, before climbing the stairs to the study area and stepping on the porter that led to her bedroom.  For a long while, she sat upon her bed wondering what to do for the best.  She could not let Gorn go, but neither could she break the laws laid down by the first High King of her race.  To lose her name to dishonour was as unthinkable as turning to the liche herself, or leaving her lover to his fate.  The laws of her people may not apply to the other races here, as they did back home, but they certainly applied to her.
Considering the laws of home, she knew what she had to do.  She was unsure of whether the three-day rule applied to this world, after all that had been a pact between the first High King and the Elven Goddess of Death.  Varani had admitted that she was unable to hear or feel her goddess in this place, so it was possible that the rule did not apply.  Celandra, chewing at her bottom lip as she thought about it, swiftly decided that either way it could not hurt to try.
Quickly, so as to give herself no chance to change her mind, she enacted the spell that would open the gateway for Gorn’s spirit to cross the void and once more enter this world.  For long moments nothing happened.  Celandra began to worry that either the crossing had weakened her too much or that Gorn had decided not to come to her, but then she felt the first wave of pain that the boundary crossing caused.  Choking back a gasp, she concentrated her will on the spell and took the pain of the spirit into herself, ensuring that Gorn would be protected.
As his spirit entered her bedroom, Celandra almost lost her grip on the spell.  For a moment only, she faltered and felt panic setting in, but suddenly her own strength was bolstered by the loving aid of her mother and the pain she had been holding from Gorn was gone.  She turned, surprised to see Minerva standing in the corner of her bedroom and gave her a smile of thanks.  Minerva simply nodded, only the sparkle of her eyes showing the agony she held within and gestured toward the spirit of Gorn.
‘No can hold you long,’ Celandra started in her broken form of common speech, but Minerva’s softly trilled words cut her off.
‘Remember, my sweet, he is spirit now.  He can understand our tongue for as long as he is here.’
‘I cannot hold you here long,’ Celandra started again, this time in the language of pure music that was native to her race.  ‘I do not have the strength at this time.  Nor can I hold you against your will: our laws forbid it.  I apologise for having called you back, but I needed to see you, to speak with you whilst I was still able.  I wanted to tell you…’
She trailed off for a moment, uncertain now what she could say that would make enough of a difference.
‘I love you, Gorn,’ she said, deciding to speak from her heart.  ‘I cannot fight and I no longer possess the strength I once held, but I will do everything in my power to see you whole again.  Do not give up and do not despair… I will figure out what to do… somehow.’

[Gorn]

Gorn's spirit had been pulled in and ejected through a gate and was shocked to see the world of the living again, something he thought to never happen again. His spirit looked around the room, seeing familiar shapes, then colors, and finally the details of everything. Looking around he saw two familiar people too, Celandra and Minerva and began to speak. "I thought I would never see this world that I was ejected from again. And even my love has brought me back. I would have much to discuss but little time I'm afraid, so first off know that I love you and resisted the best I could, but you can only push back against a god for so long. I wish to come back, but my spirit has no body for now. You may call me back anytime, but do be careful. Whatever you do, it must happen after the war, win or lose, no difference." As the conversation went on Gorn's spirit began to fade out, a well known signal for it being time to go back but his spirit had one last thing to say. "I feel myself fading fast, so the last thing is a name. I remember hearing it just before I was pushed out, I believe it to be the demon's true name and it is (moderated for metagaming accidents). Now, farewell." With that Gorn's spirit steps back through the gate and it closes just after he is in.

[Miri]

As the spirit of her lover made the journey back to the realms of the dead, Celandra squeezed her eyes tightly closed and choked back tears of pain and rage.  Perhaps, she thought miserably, her mother had been right and this was never meant to be.  Had she not lost enough of late?  Her husband, her home, her children, her purpose and her strength?  Must she lose everything else as well?
She gained some comfort from the feel of her mothers arms as Minerva sat beside her on the bed and wrapped her in a loving embrace, but even that was not enough to push back the tears that now spilled unbidden down her creamy cheeks.
Why had they taken Gorn?  There were so many other humans out there, many of whom were just as strong as he, if not more so.  Why had that lich and his misguided puppets felt the need to take this one?  She had only just found him, and now he was gone...
But, he wasn't, was he?
Celandra felt a strength born of determination seeping into her and she knew that she could never give up.  But she also knew that she did not have much time.
She wiped the last of the unfamiliar moisture from her face and looked up into the serene and understanding gaze of her mother.
'Can it be done?' she asked, her fluted notes as sweet and tentative as the the most perfect of harps.
'It can,' Minerva nodded.  'But we must be quick.  There are two days left in which to see it done before we may no longer call him back, except upon Death's Night.'
Celandra nodded, understanding what her mother was saying.  Two days in which to act, or else lose Gorn forever.  They could, it was true, pull back his spirit at any time, and yet ancient laws forbade them from doing so except on Death's Night.  The Father only knew when that was on this world.
'We must be strong, sweetling,' Minerva continued softly.  'We must be ready.  If we fail, there can be no other attempt. Do you understand?  Good.  Rest now, beloved daughter.'
Celandra obediently lay down on her bed and closed her eyes.  The gentle feel her hair being stroked told her that Minerva was still there, not willing to leave her alone.  That brought a smile to her lips and slowly she began to relax.
Her mother would never leave her, she knew.  She had lost almost everything else recently, but she would never lose her mother and queen.  Everything would work out for the best, she thought as she began to doze off.  Her mother had said she would help.  Minerva had never yet failed and had not once let Celandra down.  Circumstances were different, but Celandra's iron-hard faith in her mothers abilities still remained.
Everything would be fine.


                     **********************************************

Minerva stroked Celandra's hair as she drifted off to sleep and thought on what was to be done.
She had no particular wish to save the foolish creature from his untimely demise and was not convinced that he deserved it, but she had seen the way Celandra had looked at his shade.
There had been such longing in her blue-eyed gaze, such love.  Minerva had only seen Celandra look at a male that way once before and she had seen the devastation that his death had caused.  Celandra's bright smile had faded for such a long time that everyone had feared she would never recover from the loss.
To see Celandra heading straight toward another tragedy did nothing short of break Minerva's heart.  She loved her daughter more than words could ever express and nothing in this life or the next would stop her from bringing back her smile... even if that meant brining back that worthless human.
She waited until Celandra had fallen asleep, then she quietly left the bedroom and down to the sitting room to think.
There was much to do and little time in which to do it.

[Miri]

Minerva, seated atop her grassy roof, opened her eyes and took a deep breath.
She had spent over a day and a half searching for a place of perfect balance in the hopes that it would bolster her flagging strength.  A creature of magic, created for balance, harmony had been the only thing she could think of that may aid her.  Being unable to take her True Form had weakened her considerably as she had not been able to feed, and her encounter with the Daemon that had taken the body of her daughter's lover had taxed her.
Two days ago, now, he had entered her home uninvited and had sought to goad her into a fight.  He had known of her failing strength and the reasons that she was slowly starving: Celandra, it seemed, had admitted such things to Gorn and the Daemon had retained some of those memories.  She was unsure of whether he had meant to kill her, whether he feared what she could do if she ever managed to reclaim her full strength and power, but it mattered little.
On a spur of the moment, she had fought him, proving to the vile creature that she was not without her defences and, calling upon what little reserves she had possessed, had beaten the creature to his knees and bound him to her with a geas.  She doubted he knew how much that had taken out of her, doubted he was aware of how tenuous her grip had been.  Had he fought her only a little harder, she would have failed.  In the end, it had only been her iron-hard will that had allowed her to overcome him.
Two days later and she still had not recovered from that encounter, but that changed nothing.  For as long as she was careful not to face him in battle, the geas would remain intact.
Thoughts of what had been done and how much it had taken brought a grim smile to her blood-red lips.  Weakened she may be, but she would never be a pushover.  She knew far too much about magic, about power and balance.  Of course, she did have one other advantage: she knew his True Name, whereas he had no idea of hers.
If ever he found out...
She dismissed the thought.  That name was the name of her soul, the name she had known from birth.  Only three people still living knew it and none of them would give it away, no matter what was done to them.
She stood and looked down at the circle that had been placed on her roof.  The rules and realities of this world were so strange to her.  At home a place of perfect balance existed only when the Elder Races had fulfiled their purpose and kept an eye on it.  Here, such a place could be made using the right items.  Never would she have thought of such a thing, but then, never would she have considered the possibility of befriending a Faerie, and that was exactly what she had done.  The newest addition to Feanturi had given her the means to create this small island of tranquility and for that she was truly grateful.  It had helped her to regain some of what she had lost in her battle with the Daemon and hopefully, in time, it would help her regain a portion of her true power.
For now, however, there was no more time to waste.  The three days was almost over.
She looked up at the setting sun and sighed.  It was now or never.
'Celandra,' she called in her own language.  'Dear daughter, come now: it is time.'
Barely a moment passed before the white hair of Celandra appeared as the princess walked up the stairs to the roof.  She stopped at the top, blinking in the soft light and cast a nervous smile at her mother.
'Can I help?' she asked tentativly.
'Aye,' Minerva nodded once.  'You must explain things to him.  I have little left in me as it is, my child.  I cannot be wasting time in trying to convince the fool that I have no plans to send him screaming into whatever hells he is aware of.  Now, did you find the one we sought?'
Celandra nodded and beckoned towards the stairwell.  Minerva watched impassively as a small cat came into sight and sat next to Celandra's feet.
'He has agreed?' Minerva enquired, one delicate eyebrow arched in surprise.  She had almost been hoping that Celandra would fail to find a willing host and that this sorry business with the human would be over for good.
'Yes mother,' Celandra assured her.  'I asked Eldryth to make sure that I had not misinterpretted his words.'
Minerva nodded and smiled.  Eldryth, the wood elf she had adopted as her own son so very long ago, had always been able to speak with the creatures of the land and air.  If he had told Celandra that the cat had agreed to play host, then it was so.
'Come then,' Minerva beckoned to the tiny creature and forced herself to suppress a chuckle as it strutted over to the place she had indicated.
It sat there, fur tawny beneath the orange sky, licking at its paws and looking decidely smug.  Oh, how Minerva loved cats!  They were so very amusing.
'Indeed,' she said softly.  'Make youself as comfortable as possible.  I will do my best to ensure that this does not hurt.'
With that, she closed her eyes once more and braced herself for the pain that she knew would come.  Calling upon the atmospheric magic as much as she dared, the High Queen of Pixies enacted the spell that would call to Gorn across the void.
Expecting it, though she had been, the first wave of agony almost brought her to her knees.  There was a very good reason her kind had outlawed such spells except in exceptional circumstances: the pain it gave to the ones it was used on or, when done correctly, the pain it brought to the caster.
She gritted her teeth and pulled more of the pain into herself.  Never would she be accused of miscasting a spell, especially not one like this, and never would she fail to do her duty when it came to the laws and purposes of her people. 
'Quickly Celandra,' she muttered. 'Do it quickly.'
Had it not been for the Daemon, had it not been for the crossing of worlds, had it not been for the imbalances of this one and her inability to feed properly, she would have been better able to withstand the almost overwhelming agony that she had forced herself to endure for the sake of her daughter.  Thoughts of everything that had caused this situation to be made her angry and that anger, white-hot and fuelled by the knowledge that there was currently little she could do about it, bolstered her strength, giving her a respite from the pain as it dulled away beneath her rage.
'I know what you said,' she barely heard Celandra telling the summoned shade of Gorn.  'But we have no choice.  After tonight we will not be able to help you.  Please, Gorn, give us permission to do this for you... Let us do what we can for you.'
The pain rushed straight back in and Minerva did not hear his reply.  She fought against it, pushed it back and further back, struggling for supremacy of her own mind and body.
'Mother, now!'
Celandra's call cut through the haze, spurring Minerva into action.  She opened her eyes, stared at the spirit of Gorn for a moment, then looked down to where the cat was once more cleaning its fur.  Swiftly, she focused her energy, creating a pathway between the cat and the spirit.  When she was sure it was solid enough, she clenched her hands, ground her teeth together with the effort and catapulted Gorn's spirit into the body of the cat.
With the spell complete, the pain departed.  The sudden absence of that which had been keeping her aware tipped Minerva over the edge and, falling to the ground, she knew no more.

                                  *******************************************************

Celandra stared at the prone form of her mother in horror. 
She had known that Minerva was weaker than usual, but she had not once thought that she was so far gone.  Her mother had always seemed so strong, so capable, so alive.  She had been born with a power that had not been seen since the days of the Firstborns and nothing had ever fazed her.  Now, because of a request, the indomnitable Pixie Queen lay broken and spent upon the floor.
Celandra chewed at her bottom lip, too shocked to make a move.  Why had she not said anything?  Why had she not refused?
The soft fur of the cat rubbing against her leg brought Celandra out of her stupor.  Quickly, she rushed across the rooftop and placed her hands on her mothers head and chest.
'Please...' she whispered into the silent dusk.  'Fight it, mother.  I know you can... Please don't fade...'
Not knowing what else to do, Celandra slipped her arms beneath the maiden who had brought her into the world and protected her from all harm for nigh on a thousand years.  She lifted the almost weightless form of the maiden who loved her enough to almost kill herself in an effort to make her daughter happy and carefully placed her down in the circle of harmony that her Faerie friend had helped create.
'Tathua!' she cried, the cursed name of the Goddess the Pixies had once called their own floating away into the night like a broken promise.  'Please, Father, do not abandon us now.'
Her heartfelt plea to the Force known both as Magic and Life complete, Celandra sat back and gathered the small fluffy body of the cat onto her lap.
'There do be no more I can be doing,' she said, speaking now in the language of humans as she scratched the cat between the ears.  'Now all is waiting.  Waiting for mother to live and wake, waiting for war to be over and Daemon to leave as promised so can go back to own body... Does know her spell worked, does know you be inside with the cat soul, Gorn.  Only can hope all do be working as planned afterwards.'
A mew of sympathy from the cat that now housed the soul of Gorn for safekeeping brought a small smile to Celandra's lips.  Suddenly she knew without a doubt that her mother would awaken, that when the war was over Gorn would be restored to his former glory, that everything would turn out all right given time.
She had faith.

[Gorn]

souls spirit felt the pull of another gate, and thought that this was the one to push him into his body. as he went through the gate and was getting his visions, he could only see the basic shapes again. The next moment before they could all come back he felt a massive pull again, and assumed it would be his body, returned. This of course was not meant to be so as he felt his sould being crammed, shoved, and shrunk, a strange feeling, like rapidly growing shorter, and of course gaining a tail in the process.

He looked around in new eyes, the eyes of a cat. A bellow would come to his mind, but only a meow could come forth. He observed as Minerva fell and knew he could do nothing but comfort Celandra, but how could a cat talk and comfort her? So he did the only thing he could come up with and that is rub against her leg. He knew somewhat of the situation, about the fading power of Minerva and could do nothing to help. The night would be long for the new cat Gorn.

The next day would bring extreme oddities. during the day it was a lazy, sunny day, when the door bursts open. It's rare for the house to have a visitor, but this was opportunity in the making. The dark visage obscured by the evening sun through the door would be Gorn. his daemon infested body returned. What he was doing there Gorn's spirit did not know, but it would not be for good. While still unfamiliar with the body, we went forth and jumped at him anyway, claws ready. Upon landing on the unknowing Gorn there was a magical lapse as Gorn's old spirit fused back into his body, an old magic rule of disembodies spirits ejected unnaturally. Gorn fought for control of the body with vengeance and won for the most part. But this is a lord of warfare and knew that while the demon still existed, he would not be able to control himself in battle, but he had his body, though overly occupied, for now.

[Miri]

Celandra strolled through the woods and over to the house that her mother and almost-father had built.  As per usual, she had collected the daily orders from the human shopkeepers in Magincia, most of which were almost completly useless to her but she did not overly mind that.  The humans were in need of help and she did so enjoy helping people.  Besides, it kept her mind off the tragedy that had come hand-in-hand with the triumph of the night before.
It was wonderful that Gorn was safe, but that joy had been severely dampened by the knowledge that her mother might not pull through.
Climbing the few short steps to the porch, Celandra paused momentarily to smelt some ore she had collected and to brace herself against the sadness and guilt that would come when she entered the house.
If only she had not been so selfish!  If only she had considered the harm her request could cause...
She stopped, midway through her self-recriminations as she saw Gorn dozing on the couch.  Not the kitten-shaped Gorn, but the human-shaped one: the Daemon that had stolen his body.
What was he doing here?
She had not thought for a moment that he would have risked returning to her home after what had happened between Minerva and he.  Not unless he knew...
Swiftly, she pulled out the small skinning knife she carried for sheering sheep and moved to stand defensively before the stairwell.  She knew there was little she could do against him: he was a deamon of warfare and she had never learned to fight with anything other than her magery, but that did not faze her.  Her mother lay upstairs, defenceless in her unceasing sleep and the cat that housed Gorn was somewhere in the house as well.  She might not be able to beat him, but there was no conceievable way that she was going to allow him to walk by her without a challenge.
Besides, for as long as her mother still lived, the daemon was still bound by the geas.  The simple truth that he could not harm her did not bring her much comfort, however, for there had been nothing mentioned about him harming her mother or any cats.
'Get out!' she said loudly, forcing her voice to sound strong and sure.  'You are not welcome here!'
She watched in trepidation as the monster stirred and sat up.  He blinked once or twice in the afternoon light and then simply stared at her.
'Get out,' she said once more, gripping the handle of her small knife that much more tightly.
'I have only just returned,' he said softly, no note of anger or threat in his tone.  'And you say I am not welcome?'
'You will never be welcome here,' she answered hotly, her fear and anger causing her to speak more plainly in a language that was not her own.
It was then that an awful thought struck her: if he had been resting on the couch then he must have been here for some time: more than enough to find and hurt her mother... or the cat.
The horror of the thought rooted her to the spot and she found herself unable to move, even as the Gorn-lookalike strode across the room and came to a stop in front of her.  She managed to force herself to bring the knife up, ready to poke him with it should he take one step closer, but he swiftly took it from her hand.
'Celandra,' he almost whispered, staring down at her with the sparkling eyes she had loved so much.  'It's me.. Can't you see that?'
Wanting to believe, but wary of the daemons lies, Celandra shook her head, turned on her heel and ran up the stairs.  She had to see if her mother was well, to be sure the daemon had not harmed her.
It took only a moment for her to reach her mother's bedroom, for although she was small and willowy in build, she was also swift.  She pushed aside the sliding door and peered into the room.  Sure enough, there lay her mother, eyes closed and face serene in sleep.  She did not breathe, but that was not out of the ordinary: her race never did unless they were talking.
Hands on her dainty shoulders caused Celandra to jump in startlement.  She spun around, meaning to push the deamon away so that he could not get to Minerva, but as she faced the him, his lips met hers
She tried to push him away, but was unable.  He wrapped his arms about her shoulders and waist, holding her close, giving her no room to escape.  She could feel the warmth of him, smell the odour of sweat, leather and armour polish and suddenly she sensed that he bore her no malice.  Everything she had known of him, everything she had missed these past few days, everything she loved about him was back where it should be.
She stopped struggling, stopped worrying, stopped everything but feeling as that kiss, so full of warmth and yearning, continued.
Eventually he pulled away, breathless and beautiful.  Celandra reached up to stroke the soft skin of his cheek and smiled.  She did no know how it had happened and right then she did not care.
Gorn was back, himself once more, and that was what mattered.
Now, if only her mother would wake, the world would be right once more.

[Damira]

"So you are Gorn's savior..."said Damira while looking at Minerva's sleeping eyes. "It must've been a big sacrifice you have made for the love of your daughter".
She put her hand on the queen's forehead, a sadened smile covering her face. "Yet, I'm not surprised, Majesty. You must be a wonderful mother, and an equally wonderful queen, if a good person like Celandra is so broken by your disease, and if Aradiel is willing to let go of the debt I have to him to aid you."

What she was going to do would be profitable for her too anyway. She needed the pixie queen's knowledge in magic to fight against Abraxius. Damira had heard that Minerva didn't trust humans, so it was a way of proving she was worthy of her trust. Damira never had betrayed anyone. Except Eowerenia. She had failed to protect her. And she would probably fail to protect others too. That's why she needed an expert's help.

"If you still insist on paying your debt, Damira, I know of a way to do so," had said Aradiel to her friend. "You can help someone bear the life in this world, someone trapped here, from another world." She had looked at him, not sure of what he was demanding, since himself was a very potent healer and mage. "You will have to sacrifice a part of your own life force, to lend it to her. It's as simple as that. Or may I say, more simpler than it looks like." And Damira accepted, a debt being a debt. Also, Minerva was in this state because she helped Gorn retrieve his body. Damira owed her something.

So the lady paladin started to pray to her god, begging to transfer some of her own life force into the inanimate body of the pixie. As soon as she ended her prayer, Damira felt comfort, like she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like all her recent unrest, the whole war itself, was far behind her.

Then came a pain. Distant first, like buried deep somewhere near her heart, then it grew stronger. It began by invading her heart, stopping the beating, then took place in her lungs, stopping her from breathing. She wanted to scream, but only blood came out from her mouth. Damira felt like pieces for within were being eradicated from her.

The process didn’t last long, but enough for the lady to feel the worst pain she had felt. Then it had just stopped, leaving her weak and scared. She managed to stand up somehow, and looked over the queen. That made her feel relieved. Minerva, who was pretty cold, had no temperature at all. Weird for an elf body, but normal for the pixie within. That meant the queen was taking the control of her body again, that she had enough energy to wake up soon. Damira had made it. She had saved the queen.

She went to open the door, and saw Celandra, who probably had waited behind it all the time, holding back her tears. Damira greeted her with a faint smile, before to leave without saying anything. She didn’t want to be there when Celandra would notice the blood on the floor.

Damira felt good that day, although weak. She had helped someone who not only needed it, but also deserved to be helped. And she had paid her debt to a close friend.

                                                                        **************

Aradiel knew when Damira was done. It was satisfying in a way, even though he felt guilty of involving his friend into that. But soon, Damira would not be the same. Aradiel worked for it to happen. Beind in the Empire’s court was harming her, and probably killing her slowly. So he felt it was better for her to be hurt now, and feel better later.

Aradiel smiled, feeling like a great task was accomplished. And he was right.

[Miri]

Minerva battered against the inside of her body in frustration.
This was not supposed to happen!
She had known that overtaxing herself in such a way was likely to result in unconciousness, but she had thought it would work out the way it usually did on her own world: that the enforced starvation and weakness would cause her body to melt away leaving her true form to float free and feed once more.  However, all that had happened was the body itself had fallen and refused to respond whilst she lay inside, trapped and fully awake.
It reminded her, uncomforatbly, of the time she had been captured and collared by Sinella, daughter of the Witch King and traitor to her own race.  It had been much the same: the collar cutting her off from the magic stream, rendering her blind, helpless and without even the merest sensation of light, sound or touch.
Still, it had given her much time for thought, in the pauses between her ineffectual escape attempts.  That, in a way, was a blessing for now she understood what she had to do to save her own life and that of her daughter.  However, there was nothing she could do about it whilst she still lay trapped inside this body.
She paused for a moment and sighed in the reccesses of her own mind.  How could this be?  Being nothing more than spirit and magic, she had always been able to come and go at will, had been perfectly able to float straight through the bodies of others, and yet she was now incapable of getting out of one.  It made no sense at all.
How long had it been since she had brought the soul of Gorn back from beyond the veil?  Days? Weeks? Months?  She had no way of knowing and that in itself bothered her a little.  She remebered that the spell had been complete, that he was safely riding in the body of a cat under the protection of Celandra, but who was there to protect her daughter?
Balek would do so, she knew, as would Urian, but neither could be at Celandra's side all of the time and despite her own best efforts, Celandra had never learned to defend herself with anything but her magery, which was more or less a moot point considering how weak she must be by now.
At the thought of her beloved child coming to harm, Minerva renewed her efforts to break free.

                 *************************************************************

Celandra stood outside the door to her mother's bedroom, choking back her tears as she reflected on the happenings of the last few days.
Watching her mother fall like that had been a great shock.  Never before had Celandra seen her mother succumb to anything.  Minerva was always so strong, so proud, so alive.  Even on those occasions when she had pushed herself to her limits in an effort to finish a spell or project that would aid her people, Minerva had always walked away with her head held high and her back as straight as ever.  It was somehow world-shattering to see her fall to weakness and exhaustion, as if everything had gone wrong with the universe.
She had placed the unresponsive body of her mother into the circle of balance and had watched over her all through the night, but there had been no change.  In the morning, Urian had returned home.  That had not been a good time.
As odd as their relationship would seem to outsiders, what with their constant catty remarks, bickering and the simple fact that they always kept a little distance in public, Celandra knew, as did many others who knew the pair personally, that they were deeply in love and that nothing could come between them.  So, it had not been unxpected for Urian to be worried, nor that he would blame Celandra for the current state of his wife.  It was, after all, her fault.
After her well-deserved berating, Celandra had watched silently as Urian had tenderly picked up the unconcious form of Minerva, carried her down the stairs and laid her in the bed they shared.  After that had come the waiting.
She had tried not to show it, tried to be strong in an effort to make her mother proud, but Celandra had been deeply worried.  Since it had happened, Minerva's skin had not only taken on the fleshy colour of the elves, as opposed to her normal snow-white, but she had also become icy cold - something unheard of for the heatless pixies.  Nothing about this felt right at all and Celandra had not known what to do, save wait and watch.
Then had come Aradiel.
She had liked him instantly, trusted him without question and believed him when he had told her that he would find a way to help.  There had been something about him, and not just the fact that he was an elf, that had reassured her.
A short while ago he had brought the Lady Damira to the house.  Celandra had heard nothing but good said of the Paladin Queen, yet still she had been a little confused and perhaps just a tad wary.  However, at this point, as her mother continued to fade, Celandra was willing to try anything that might save the couragous maiden who had given her life, and so she had led Damira up to the third floor and into the room where the High Queen of Pixies lay in the dim light like an elf in state, just waiting for the week to pass so that she might be put upon a pyre.
That last thought brought with it a stab of pain and a few of her tears broke free.  Angry with herself, Celandra brusquly wiped them away.

Time passed, although not much.
What felt like an age later, the bedroom door slid open and the Lady Damira stepped out.  She looked weak and shaken, but she smiled before passing by on her way out of the house.  Celandra watched her go, a new worry added to her list.  She hoped that whatever Damira had done had not caused her any harm.  It was bad enough being responsible for the fate that had befallen her mother.  To add the distress of such a noble lady to the mix, especially when she was so busy with trying to save her world and people from that lich and his cronies, would be more than she could bear.
Even so, Celandra brushed aside that thought as she ran into the bedroom to check on her mother.  As she neared the bed, she came to a halt.  There was blood on the carpet below.  That was worrying.  But it was not that which caused her to pause.  She could feel the power of what had just been done, feel the ebb and flow as the magic slowly settled back into place.  That feeling was somehow intoxicating after having been so long without the senses and sight she knew in her true form.
Cautiously, altough she knew not why, Celandra approached the bed.  The sight that greeted her brought a smile to her lips.  The colour was fading fast from Minerva's cheeks!  Whatever the lady Damira had done, it seemed to have worked.  Celandra pulled up a chair and settled herself in to keep vigil.  When her mother awoke, she wanted to be there to say she was sorry.

                    ********************************************************

Minerva railed against her imprisonment, refusing to give into despair by becoming angry.
After all she had done, all she had been through in her life, she was not going to allow this to beat her!
In her two thousand years upon the worlds, she had seen her first husband fade in an effort to save her, lost an unborn child, lost her memories and later regained them.  She had adopted an elven son, bore a beautiful daughter and spent three hundred years preparing herself and four others to fulfil a prophecy that, had she failed in her task, could have destroyed the Elder Races for good.  She had banished the Chaos Faeries into the abyss, travelled to the Daemon Realms to rescue lost kin and later gone to into the abyss herself on a suicide mission to ensure that her enemies could not break free.  She had sentenced her only natural son to death for treason, become a goddess for a day with the strength and belief of her people in order to rid the world of a Daemon-Faerie demi-god and had taken part in more wars than she could rightly remember all in an effort to ensure the continued survival of her people.
In essence, she had lived, loved, lost and fought in equal measure and she was not about to give up now!
Suddenly, she felt the oddest sensation, like being stretched thin and pasted to a wall.  As strange and uncomfortable as it was, however, she revelled in the knowledge that she could at least feel something again.  That meant that somehow her situation was improving.  She had no idea what had happened to push things along, but she made a metal note to find out.
Gradually, heaviness settled in on her and she knew that, somehow, she was rejoining the body that had entrapped her.

Later, possibly much later, Minerva opened her eyes.  The first things she saw were the sparkling blue eyes of Celandra and the smile of joy her child wore.
'Sweetheart,' she greeted her daughter quietly.
'Mother!'
Celandra jumped out of the chair and threw herself upon Minerva, wrapping her arms about the queens neck and shoulders in a tight embrace.  Minerva, happy to once again be awake and glad that Celandra was unharmed, slowly reached up to hug her daughter.  Her body still felt leaden, stiff and weak, but nothing could be allowed to come between herself and her child.
'My darling,' Minerva spoke softly.  'What happened?'
Celandra released her hold, but did not move away from the bed, a fact for which Minerva was grateful.  Instead, she took Minerva's hand and began to talk.
Minerva listened in astonishment to the tale but she did not for a moment disbelieve her daughter.
This Damira... the one who tried so hard to pull her people together to fight for their lives... Minerva would have to seek her out and thank her when she was a little more sure of herself.  Proud she may be, but she had never been above giving either thanks or praise where it was due.
Perhaps Balek and Urian had been right... perhaps some humans had worth after all.