Crispian felt color rising in his face and just nodded curtly. "A new member of the League," he muttered, moving deeper into the cathederal, his head beginning to clear from the effects of the ale. A chior of monks was keeping the vigil and their low chant drifted in the air as sweetly as the incense.


Looking toward the corner where Brother Michael healed all who came, Crispian scoffed. What good was the man to him? A healer's touch had brought no aid from that which stalked his mind, and he doubted any could.


Stepping through the door into the cathederal garden, Crispian leaned against a stone railing, bracing himself for what he was imagining to be worse than a rush of tanglers, or deamons from Darkness Falls. He mentally took a stance while trying to remain appearing relaxed.


"ou said you wanted to talk?" he ventured quietly, recalling the last time he had seen Azi, and how she had seen him. He almost blanched, but fixed his jaw firmly and met her steady gaze.

 

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Azi followed her friend into the garden, his sudden change in disposition startled her. She was cautious, but not frightened or suprised as she leaned on the rail beside him. She had dealt with her father's madness for so long that she knew she could handle this situation well enough.


"I wanted to talk, yes," she started quietly, not knowing exactly what to say. When she had gone to find him, her main objective had been to keep him from drinking...


"Rather, I wanted you to talk," she said quietly. "Milord, I don't pretend to know what has happened to you. I don't pretend to know how to begin to help." Azi tried to keep her voice at agentle tone. "I do know that your recent habits of drinking will do nothing for you, but to push aside your troubles, even add to them, only to have to deal with them another day." She looked for his reaction, but his eyes only grew colder, more distant. She touched his arm gently.


"As I said, I don't pretend to know how to help you. But we both agree I've seen you at one of the darkest times in your life. Sometimes a listening ear will not solve a problem, but it can help to lift some of the weight of the burden."

Crispian let an explosive sigh out and looked heavenward. He did not want to touch what he held in his mind, did not want to risk what might happen if he let it forth. He shook his head, an ironic grin on his face.


"Azi, we came to know each other through events in your life, what,a few months past? Tatyanna's respect for you confirmed my suspicions. But this," he gripped the railing firmly, "this is ... more than I can ask another to take on... or expose them to. This," he breathed in a shuddering breath, "rage, this hatred," he hissed through clenched teeth, "is so consuming, so filling," his voice became stern, lowering to a whisper, "that it can only sometimes even be held in check." He turned smoldering gray eyes on her. "Do you really want to share THIS?" he almost shouted, slamming balled fists against his head.


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Deep in the fastness of her hold, D'Vena peered into the milky dome which enclosed the small gold hair figure. She watched the glowing movement of other small, conjured figures on the glass surface and grinned.


If he would not break, and the other two seemed unreachable, perhaps these others.


"es, show us more," she chuckled, stroking the dome with a clawed hand. "Show us, my little pawn, so you can have playmates!" An insane cackling ripped from her mouth as she collapsed back into her high-backed chair, a froth of spittle dappling her lips as she laughed.

 

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Azi jumped as Crispian slammed his fist to his head, he was beginning to frighten her. She was shaking from this display, from seeing him in so much turmoil. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something, anything she could do to help.


She wondered where all of the man's friends were, she was so new to the League that she was unsure of who was even available there..aside from Lady Mirashta..


She reached up and took fist gently, closing her hands around it.


"I don't know what to say, Milord..." she said shakily, "Except that I think it's important for you to surround yourself with friends at all times. You may feel that you're protecting others by barring this evil inside of yourself. In reality, you cannot defeat this alone. You need the support of those who care for you, at all times I think. Until someone finds a way to stop your agony."

Crispian's hand relaxed in hers and he looked again to the sky as clouds scudded across the star lit darkness.


"This...pain...it hammers, Azi, always. I have fought no foe less kind than this. None!" He swallowed hard to keep control of himself. "Nor one more ruthless." He eyes blinked rapidly to keep tears from coming, for he had enough of those. "I thank you," he said, kissing her hand. A flash of Moryan's face crossed his mind as he did so, recalling a tavern so long ago it seemed. "Please, stay with me this night, as a friend?"

 

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Azi drew her hand away, blushing slightly at his gesture.


"es," she said after some contemplation, "I will sit with you. As a friend."

They sat in quiet at the railing, and at some point Crispian sat down, leaning against the outer wall of the church and drifted to sleep, still holding Azi's hand tenderly.


The dream came as it had sometimes. A raging fire, the beams falling, being carried out of the manse as it was consumed. Arguyle, broken and bleeding, being healed, and healing energy flowing through Crispian. Jashen and Tannir there, as always, brother-of-blood and near-brother, attending his wounds. And Her, being led in bonds, then hands free, a spell, the stun of it hitting him, and then a lassitude.


The visions following were a tumult, a cascading of failures and losses. The deaths, the times the shield was too slow to block a blow that a friend took. The times standing while Oaklief, Mirashta or Darnyk were dead. The disasterous retreat toward the Milegate from Bledmeere Faste,when Arguyle, Kalfear and Edeor all fell before Crispian did, as Midgard warriors swarmed them under.


And then, the respite. Her. D'Vena, pale and naked upon a settee, arms stretched, wine chilled, expectant. And the revulsion at that image that was almost physical, bringing instead the image of Tobyas, in pale morning light, tusseled hair.


Fire. Rushing gouts of flame, flight down that hallway as beams collapsed. Slamming into Arguyle's back to push the massive highlander lord out of the way. His fault the pig-farmer lived. And Moryan, warning her of all that was happening. His fault again that she was free and in love. His fault. So his punishment.


Leaning in sleep, Crispian twitched and groaned occasionally, as a sad-eyed Azi looked on, honoring a pledge of friendship.

 

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From the shadowed doorway, he watched them. Their quiet whispers, raised voices, Crispian's head-hitting, and then the tender hand-hold. He watched as they settled to the flagstones, and Crispian drifted to sleep. Still, she held his hand.


Blinking tears, Tobyas stood, watching them.

She held his hand still, kneeling beside him as he slept. His expression twitched occasionally, occasionally he jerked or groaned in his sleep. Sighing sadly, she watched the moon rise slowly in the sky, casting its blue light across the flagstones.


As quietly as she could, she slipped her hand from his and shifted on the hard stone. A slight movement in the doorway caught her eye as she stretched her sore neck. She squinted into the darkness and saw him watching. A pang of sorrow touched her heart as she remembered the cold exchange between the two men. She realized what he must be thinking, seeing her there with Crispian.


"Hail, Tobyas," she whispered softly.

Hesitantly, he stepped from the shadows. The soft soles of his boots hissed on the paving stones. He bowed, the robe he wore swirling as he did so. "Good Lady Azi," he said quietly. "I see you also know my Liege, Crispian." He was glad for the low light of the moon, for it hid the color that rose in his cheeks. "I meant not to disturb you."