Shuddering from the chill water and still a bit groggy from the ale, Crispian shuddered as he glared up at the elf. All his training was needed to stay his hand from the hilt of his sword, for Hibernias had long been foes.


"-you have to help me," he croaked, falling to his knees. "I can't keep fighting her." He lifted blood-shot eyes to the elf, tears running down his face. "This thing," he thrust the sphere forward, "is no match for her."

 

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Insane and insidious laughter floated on the air of the dungeon level. Already, seven other prisoners had been removed when they went insane from the constant noise.


The two guards, ears stuffed with wool and ensorceled by magic to withstand it, stood before the cell. The once thin, now approaching emaciated, figure in the cell coward toward the far side. Whether from their presence or the light they bore none new.


"Now dis here one, Eli, you need to keep an eye out fer. She's mad as a lurikeen and nastier than a troll set to a baff, you git me?" the old guardsman said around his two teeth. "e git too close and dis one here'll be yer brain, what littles you got of it." He snorted and spat into the cell. "Git down ye witch!"


With malicious eyes, she watched them retreat to their safety. A ethereal barrier diffused them as they step through the door at the corridors end.


"Pain and hurt," she whispered. "They all shall know pain and hurt!" She muttered to the wall for a short time and then her head snapped up.


"What?? Elves? Hibernian magicks!" Her eyes showed all whites for several heartbeats. And then she laughed again, a low, merciless laugh. "Nay, brat-boy, ye'll not escape like that. Pretty, pretty boy to use a woman for the likes of Carrington. Should have stayed to the farm, pretty boy-o!" She spat thrice on the fall and made some swirls in the puddle of it.


With a laugh, she smeared symbols on the wall over ones long-since drawn and faded.


"Oh, no," was her quiet whisper as her fingers twitched and moved.

Ayslyn smiled softly. "It wasn't meant to be. Not by itself at least. She's feeding off the darkness within you. The darkness that she planted. The sphere helps to close that off. With it, you have a chance. But the thing that will break you free is your own desire and the assistance of your friends. You talked to me of how you had lost your focus. Find it again." he dropped out of the tree and stood, nose to nose with Crispian. He poked the young man in the chest. "Look here for your answers boy. Hold tight to your pride, your sense of fairness. All the things that earned your friends hearts, and the respect of those you led. Those are the weapons and armour that will defeat D'vena. That is her weakness. They will help you to beat her. But," he paused. "If you truely want to break her," he reached into his packs and tossed something to Crispian. It was a bible, and a well read one. "I prefer the second half myself. Look to the advice your savior gives. It's good advice no matter which god you follow." He grinned at the confusion on Crispian's face. "Now if you will excuse me. There are other things that I must attend to." He leapt up, catching the branch above him, and swung up into the tree. Crispian tried to watch where he went, but he was lost in the foliage.


Ayslyn leapt from branch to branch, not disturbing a leaf. He hated not telling the lad everything but he had more than a few suspicions about what the spell might intail. He thought that D'vena might be sensing some of what Crispian did, and that made it dangerous to let him know everything.

 

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Staring into the tree at where the elf had lept but moments before, Crispian swore. "FARKIN' ELVES! DAMN TREE LOVER!"


He stared around a few moments longer then look down at the Bible. A bible? he thought. He flipped idly through the pages. It was a beautiful work. The illuminations were truly artful.


He squinted at one page. He stopped on Psalm 40. Quietly he read.


"I waited patiently for the Lord; He turned and heard to me and heard my cry; He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand; He put a new song in my mouth..."


He closed the book and tucked it into his pack, shaking his head. "Farkin' Elf," and turned back toward the Albion frontier keep. The dappled sun was warm, it seemed. Grinning, barrel helm tied to his belt, Crispian walked back toward home and a battle yet fought -- for his own soul it seemed.

 

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Tobyas knelt in the church, head bowed in prayer. He clutched his scriptures tight as he prayed. He sough guidance, but none came. There was no great calming, no feeling of awe with the Almighty.


Finally, he stood and walked from the building, bowing to the night sacristin as he passed through the postern door. The great Chapter house loomed large against the night sky as he walked into the night.


He wandering steps carried him through Camelot, through parts of the city he had never dared to approach when he was just a tavern-boy. The life of the city was so different from a Cleric of the Church. He almost wanted to laugh, but could not make it happen.


He paused at the edge of a square where a commotion was raised, but slipped off before he could be noticed or called into service. What could any involved in that do for a young man in love with the unattainable? THEY were probably all caught up in realm-shaking politics. The grey streaks of dawn found him on the banks of the river near the east-gate, trying to make his choice between devotions - the young Lord or the Almighty Lord.

/bump (More, more!)

Azi trudged wearily toward the east gates of the city, her mind heavy with many thoughts. She knew there wasn't much she could do to help. She had been through numerous tomes a few days before. Tomes on curses, demons, witches...she had exhausted herself reading page after page until her candle had burned to a wick in a puddle. But she had hunted a bit, and was ready for some more. Perhaps she would find something today...with a little more research.


She wandered along the riverbank toward the city, avoiding the roads as usual. It warmed Azi's heart a bit less than usual to cast her magic on the weapons of the young charges hunting river spritelings and other creatures as she made her way toward Camelot.


Then she saw him.. a young cleric, vaguely familiar, sitting on the bank, staring wistfully into the rushing water. She made her way to his side, and began her incantation to bestow his weapon with the power of the earth.

The enchantments fell about him and the young cleric looked up, his eyes still red-rimmed from crying.


"Thank ye good lady," he said around a shy smile.

Azi looked down at the cleric's tear-stained face, feeling a pang of guilt. She shouldn't have disturbed him, it was obvious he was not hunting here. But now..should she offer a shoulder to this stranger or carry on toward Camelot? She stood for a moment, awkwardly torn, took a few steps back and lowered herself onto the grassy bank.


She removed her soft boot, pulled out a small stone, and smiled shyly at the cleric.


"That," she held the stone up for him to see, "has been with me since Cornwall." She rubbed her foot a bit before slipping her boot back on, still feeling a bit awkward. "Sir," Azi hesitated a moment, a look of sincere concern in her eyes, "are you quite alright?"

Swallowing back a sigh, Tobyas swallowed.


"Well enough, good lady, for a man in love that cannot be returned," he smiled. "Cornwall, you say? I hear my love is there," he smiled at her.