Thoughts and Decisions

[Miri]

Minerva sat on one of the comfortable couches in the seating room, her legs tucked beneath her and a book in her hand.  It was an interesting book: one Abraxys had given to her on the history and culture of his kind.  Each page that was turned served to convince her a little more that the Faeries of this land were not the same as those she had fought against for the majority of her life.  Now, however, the pages were left unturned and the interest had been put aside for the moment.

The news had filtered into even this quiet clearing.
Damira, the human Paladin Queen, had gone to serve the lich.
Some of the people were sadenned by this, others were angry, but Minerva could only nod her head and smile grimly.
Her source of information had spoken truly: he always did.  He had told her what had occured in MarketVale and why Damira had made her choice.  It was one that the Pixie queen could understand.
To see everything you have ever known and loved be destroyed around you, or to do the only thing in your power to avert such a disaster?
Damira had chosen the second option: offering herself for the sake of those she cared for.  It was a terrible bargain, a terrible choice to have to make, but it had been made through love.  That, too, was a thing that she understood and it served to increase the respect she had for the paladin.

Minerva chuckled quietly.
Respect? For a Human?  Who would have thought such a thing possible?  And yet, from the sacrifice Damira had made to save the life of a Pixie she had never before met, Minerva's regard for her had sprouted.
The Pixie Queen grimaced at the thought of lost opportunities.  She had meant to thank Damira for what had been done, had intended to seek her out and offer what aid she could, short of joining the war itself, but thus far she had not left her house.  She had been awaiting the return of her strength.  It was coming back, slowly but surely.  Perhaps, she thought grimly, that waiting had been a mistake.  She had forgotten just how quickly the humans lived their lives, jumping from one thing to the next as if the sun would not rise on the morrow.  That forgetfulness may have deprived her of her chance to tell the human lady just how grateful she was for the sacrifice made.
Would she now get that chance?

One thing was certain: whatever she owed Damira was outweighed by the paladins own choice.  Unlike the Gorn affair, where the fool had been overcome and forced aside, this had been something Damira had wanted.  Such a bargain, however distasteful and whatever the reasons for its making, could not be interfered with.  To do so would be to dishonour the lady in question and that was something the Pixie Queen would never do.

Once more, Minerva found herself chuckling quietly.  For once, a human had proven themselves to be honourable, to have worth, but it had taken such a decision as this for that to become clear.  The irony was not lost on the ruby-haired ruler.

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

I stood in the dim light of a new dawn and wondered what to do next.  The trees around me sang their sadness for all to hear, telling the tale of how the courageous Paladin Queen had given herself to her enemies for the sake of those she loved.

If only Valendril were here, he could have penned lyrics and a melody befitting of this tragedy: a song to make the very stars weep, as he had done only once before, when two of the Firstborn Dragons had fought and one had died.

I sighed, thinking of that song, thinking of what I had heard that night and what it meant to me.
I had not known the lady in question, but I had seen the reactions of others whenever she had walked by, the respect and awe in their eyes when their gazes came to rest on her countenance.
A tragedy indeed for her to have been forced to do as she did.

Raising my gaze to the sky above, I brushed a lock of auburn hair from my face and watched as the last few stars faded away beneath the brilliance of the rising sun.  Like those stars, much had faded for me of late: my hope, my sense of worth and my belief in my own abilities.  As the golden light of a new day came to gently brush aside the velvet darkness of night, I saw my own life mirrored in that sky, and finally I had my answer.
The shadowy grip of the lich was extending across the land, but shadows had never held any fear for me.  I had used them as a tool for longer than I could remember and I had come to know them well.  The lich himself, however, bothered me.  His existance grated on my nerves as only one of the undead was able to with an elf, but more than that, his unlife was as a slap in the face to Lahessa, the goddess of death.  I may not be able to hear her voice in this place, I thought with deep determination, but that did not mean that I should stand aside and let such an abomination go unchallenged.

I took the twin daggers from sheathes at my hips and gripped them tightly, the cold feel of the fine mithril blades reminding me of another oath I had made in the past.
'Lahessa,' I whispered into the wind, knowing that she would hear me whether or not I screamed my words for all to hear.  'I, Varani, can no longer stand idly by and watch everything fall apart.  In your name, my lady, I choose to fight.'

My new oath done with, I fingered the cool metal of the blades the elf I called my brother had made for me before I had begun upon the path that led me to this place and time.  They were, as always, sharp.
It had been a long time since I had retired from the path I had chosen, many centuries since the Hags Handmaiden had disappeared leaving the Dark Kin sleeping a little easier in their beds.  With that in mind, I knew I needed to practise, to regain skills I had not used in so very long, to remind myself what it was to kill.  This time, however, would be different.  This time I would not hide behind the guise of another.  Instead I would embrace the darkest parts of my prior life and cause them to exist alongside the person I was now.
Determined, strong of will and purpose, I slipped into the nearest shadow and began to exercise myself for what was to come.