A Land Far Away

It wasn't the spiders. Though disturbing, the spiders hadn't bothered him now that he thought about it. Nor did the loss of most of the fine porcelain plates and crystal goblets really upset him--these were all easilly replaced by one of many master craftsmen in Evereska. Dresses could be cleaned, cuts healed, and dinner parties rescheduled. And spiders could be killed. So, understandably, it took Tahlien a while to understand what had bothered him about the incident.
He replayed the scene after all the guests had left and the girls had been located and brought to him. Startingly blue eyes, almost as clear as crystal, gazed up from smudged black faces, quietly awaiting judgement. They'd dressed as Dark Ones, hid amongst the arms of the chandelier, and dropped at least a dozen spiders down on the unsuspecting guests below. Of course, chaos had erupted almost as soon as the first spider was discovered making a frantic dash for one guest's ample cleavage.
To make matters worse, the Twins had started yelling and hissing exaggerated oaths to the Dark Queen while brandishing very realistic-looking blades. After all the angry and, for some, tearful complaints, promises never to come back, and parental compentency questions had been either quieted or ignored, Tahlien had been left glaring at these two little faces, wondering what had possessed them.
He shook his head. He had tried to remain calm. He had tried to quietly coax apologies from them. But, their explanation had angered him and no apologies were forthcoming. So, frustrated, he had yelled, berated harshly, and, finally, banished them to their room. And, the entire time, Lueiel had stood across the room, shaking her head slowly at his every other sentence.
Like she was doing now.
Tahlien gestured, "What?"
Lueuiel shifted her mass of glossy black hair from one shoulder to the other.
"Why are you still mad? It's over," she replied casually, sinking to the seat across from him.
She slouched, and Tahlien frowned deeper. True ladies didn't slouch, and true ladies didn't question their husbands. Especially about the discipline of their children. That's what husbands were for, wasn't it? To be the firm hand guiding the offspring. Fathers provided anchors; mothers provided wings.
He ran a hand through his own dark locks, sought the correct words. Finding none that pleased him, he decided just to plunge on with the storm of words in his head.
"There is no shame, Lue," he breathed. He gestured incredulously, "What they did was horrible-"
"It was a harmless prank," their Mother smiled warmly.
Was there a hint of pride in her tones? Tahlien tried to tell himself that there wasn't, but he doubted his resolve in this argument. She was proud of them. She would be--wasn't she, herself, the Jester's Handmaiden?
He ran a hand over his face. "It was not a harmless prank. Look at all the damage they did-!"
Lue waved dismissively. "It can all be replaced, Tahl."
"I'm not talking about the plates, Lueiel!" he yelled, frustration overwhelming his self-control. Later, he would reget this, but, now, it was the best way to express how serious the matter was to him.
Lueiel's jaw set and her lips pulled into a thin line.
In the seconds before she spoke, Tahlien studied his wife again as he had done so many times before. She was tall and lithe, but not thin-boned like most elven girls.Many elven boys had compared her to a fine blade--supple, strong and as sharp as one. She was quick-witted and clever. Not book-smart but intelligent enough to out-argue most of her companions and some of the older generations as well. But, it wasn't her brain that attracted the males to her, of course. Not many could get past the flawless alabaster skin that glowed with an inner light, promising softness and warmth or the cascade of ebony black hair that looked and felt like satin. Or her stormy blue-grey eyes that twinkled like stars when she was happy or, as they were doing now, flashed like summer lightning when she was angry.
Her voice, usually as bubbly as a stream, as gentle as a breeze, was level and stony when she spoke.
"Then, what in the Nine Hells are you talking about, Tahlien?"
He winced slightly. She rarely used his full name. She always called him playfully 'Tahl', even in the heat of love. 'Tahlien' was formal, distant, and, worst of all, disappointed. His parents called him 'Tahlien' regardless of how casual the conversation was. There were no pet names in his family. There was only pride, duty, and honor.
His anger flared. "I'm talking about those two little monsters-"
"They're not monsters!" Lueiel bellowed, coming to her feet quicker than he'd ever witnessed her do so before.
Not allowing his shock to stay his tongue, he rose to his feet, bellowing even louder, "They acted like little monsters today! Impersonating Dark Ones--Dark Ones, Lueiel! And, and screaming oaths to--" He almost choked with disgust. "--to the Dark Queen?!"
"They were only playing!" Lueiel gestured broadly, not backing down even a little. This angered Tahlien more.
"They frightened and insulted our guests!" His hands balled into fists. He wouldn't hit her--he'd never hit her and never would--but it was a trained reaction to battle. He longed for a simple battle, for his bow, for an enemy that could be shot and killed--anything but this complicated mess that was marriage and parenthood. But, this was his duty and, for his honor, for the honor of his House, he'd fight this battle as he'd done so many before.
By now, Lueiel had crossed past him to the window, gesturing as she walked and spoke. "Maybe our guests need to get a sense of humor. Maybe they need to be shaken up a little. Have any of them actually seen a Dark One in their life? Fought one? And, I didn't hear one believable oath screamed. I heard laughed cries of 'Spider Queen! Spider Queen!."
Tahlien turned to face her, a hand over his eyes. "You know what they meant. Where did they learn that? Did you teach them?"
His wife shook her head, "Why is this bothering you?"
"Answer me--did you teach them that?" Anger emboldened him further. "Did you suggest they frighten the guests? Were you so bored, Lueiel?"
"Why are you lecturing me, Tahlien?" she asked with a sigh.
A thud echoed in the study, momentarilly silencing all speech. Lueiel's eyes were focused on something across her line of sight which, to his horror, Tahlien realized was his arm. He followed its silk-clad length to where his fist had connected to the wall by her head. Disgusted with himself more than anything at that moment, Tahlien spun away with a growl. He threw himself back into his chair by the hearth and attempted to calm his temper.
"They're only children," he heard Lueiel say, almost a whisper.
"That's no excuse, Lue," he replied gruffly. He steepled his fingers, rested his forehead against his fingertips. Hearing no immediate argument, he continued, "One day, they'll represent our House--"
Lueiel scoffed, "No, that's Eihtahl's place.They will be someones' wives."
Tahlien smacked the knuckles of his left hand into the palm of his right hand, accenting every word.
"They...may...not...be...brides...alone. Did I say that was their fate?"
"Fates," Lueiel corrected firmly.
Her husband blinked, confused, "What?"
"Their fates, not their fate--they're not one being," she corrected, a slight hint of annoyance underlining her tone.
He gestured dismissively, "They're twins--"
Now it was her turn to growl. "They're two little girls who just happen to look alike. They're individual souls, and I'm getting tired of all this talk as if they were a freakish, two-headed dragon!"
"Lue..." he sighed. He was losing steam and slowly realizing that he was also losing the argument. He gestured weakly, "I just want them--and you--to realize what one 'little' prank has done. Our guests were very important nobles of other Houses--possibly future family and tutors. Their opinions matter to the Twins' future."
He inwardly groaned. He'd done it again, but, strangely, Lueiel was not arguing. Silently, like a spector, she glided to the chair across from his and sagged into it. Tahlien felt his gut twist with guilt and dread as he studied her. Dark circles were under her eyes and she looked paler than usual, bordering on slightly grey. Her breath came in long sighs, and her arms rested limply on the arms of the chair, trembling ever so slightly. He swallowed, cursing himself for not paying attention. The argument had drained her. It was so easy sometimes to forget how fragile Lueiel really was. She tired quickly doing the most mundane things, and this day must have been especially taxing on her--being proud wife, hostess, and, possibly, accomplice.
He slid forward in his chair, words of concern forming on his lips. She held up a pale hand, silencing him, then let it fall slowly back to the chair's arm.
"Have you heard enough?" she said, seemingly to the air itself.
Tahlien looked about (up first, learning from earlier to always look up first), but, failing to find anyone, looked to Lueiel for an answer. She slowly turned her gaze to the closed door. He followed her gaze and was somehow surprised when it opened to reveal his daughters--scrubbed clean of their disguises and dressed in their nightgowns of matching blue. Guiltily, he attempted to tell them apart. Was it Myo with the pouty lips? No, they both had pouty cherub-bow lips. Was Kyo taller? No, they were as indistinguishable as clover. Lueiel gestured them to her side, and, eerilly, they started forward on the same foot. They clutched each others' hands, but their free hands were tightly wrapped around identical stuffed toy faerie dragons. Tahlien wondered briefly if they planned their actions. Surely, not at a mere five years old-?
A warm smile spread slowly across Lue's face as she studied her daughters. With a sigh, she smoothed their glossy black hair and caressed their shadow-tinged cheeks. However, during this affection, their eyes were locked warilly on Tahlien. He swallowed hard a large knot of guilt and sickness. How could he have been so angry at these two blessings of the Allfather? They were so young, so innocent. How could they have realized that what they were doing wasn't funny to everyone-? Weren't stories of the Dark Queen and her minions told to frighten children to sleep, and, in some cases, presented as jest in the playhouses-? He felt wretched but tried to keep a stern, stoic expression on his face. If they didn't know, they had to learn.
"Kyo," Lue began softly (she sounded so tired, Tahlien grimaced inwardly), "Myo..."
Both pairs of eyes drifted to their Mother's shadowed eyes. She tilted her head, admiring them with proud, tired eyes.
"What you did today was fun, wasn't it?" she asked, much to Tahlien's horror. He decided to trust her and remained silent.
Two identical heads bobbed up and down slowly. Being so young, they didn't know how to hide their smiles (or, Tahlien thought, they saw no reason to-?) and their little faces beamed shamelessly. He stifled a disapproving sound and watched Lueiel instead. Her eyes went from one set of big, open eyes (so much like hers) to another and back.
Her smile didn't falter as she said, "It was fun, but it hurt some of our guests. I know it was funny to watch them run and jump around, but they didn't think so."
Tahlien could already tell that the two girls didn't understand and was going to interject some fatherly guidance when Lueiel continued to speak.
"If I were to decide one day to eat all the food in the scullery, what would happen?" she asked gently.
In unison, the girls replied, "You'd be fat!"
A tired smirk crossed their Mother's face and she nodded slowly. "Yes, I'd be fat-" Here, she puffed her cheeks and held her arms out, pantomiming extra weight. "-but how would you feel with no food for dinner or breakfast or snacks?"
The two girls looked at each other and seemed to come to a wordless agreement. Their little expressions fell to sadness.
Lueiel, an exaggerated pout on her face, nodded.
"You'd be sad, and your Father would be sad, and all the servants would be sad," she nodded slowly, kindly.
"But...but we could get more-!" (Was it Kyo? Or Myo?)came the reply.
Lueiel nodded sagely, "We could, but what if I ate all that food, too?"
The other (Tahlien cursed himself for not knowing) who had remained silent before said, "You'd be really fat..."
At the same time, "And we'd be really sad."
Their Mother nodded slowly, brushing a stray hair from one of their faces. "So, it's not a good idea if I eat all the food, why-?"
"'Cause we're hungry," was the response, in unison.
"Because me doing that would hurt you and your Father and the servants, yes?" Lueiel questioned softly in the sing-song way that mothers everywhere adopt when teaching a lesson.
Two little heads bobbed again. Lueiel paused briefly then said, "So, what you did today is kinda like me eating all the food. You had fun, but it made your Father and Counselor Casaro and Lady Vermus and everyone else at the party sad. And, didn't it make you sad to upset your Father?"
Tahlien felt his gut wrench again as the little heads turned towards the floor and tiny, helpless yesses were uttered from the canopy of night-dark hair. He forced himself to remain stoic when all he wanted to do was grab up these two strange beautiful little girls and hug them and tell them that he'd over-reacted and, yes, maybe it was funny to see the commander of the Swords of Evereska jump up and scream like a little girl when the spider crawled over his hand and, yes, they did make very convincing Dark Ones and--and--anything but how much they'd shamed the House and how they'd have to set a better exampleif they wanted to be ladies one day and uphold the honor of their House. He wanted to tell them how proud the Jester probably, without a doubt was, and, honestly, he was, too, at how clever they were, how sneaky they were. But, he couldn't and wouldn't because more was expected of them...of him.
Lueiel had her eyes firmly on him as she asked the girls, "What do you say to your Father, then?"
"I'm sorry, Father," came the stereo reply. Tahlien closed his eyes briefly. They were sniffling, close to tears.
They have to learn, they have to learn, he kept telling himself in his mind. And, Lueiel was waiting to see what he would do. What could he do-? They had to learn, and, unfortunately, he had to be the voice of reason. He was suddenly angry at Lueiel.How dare she cast him as the villain in this? How dare she force him to choose between love and honor? He shook his head. When it all came down to it, there was only good and evil, and he had to decide which his daughters would become.
He tore his eyes from Lueiel's expectant gaze and laid his steady hands on the tops of his daughters' heads."At least you realize you were wrong," he said firmly.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Lueiel briefly close hers and look away from his face. He frowned slightly, then ordered the two girls to bed. After receiving a kiss and hug from their Mother, they exited the room somewhat slower than they had entered. A few moments later, Lueiel rose without a sound and left.
With a sigh, he said to no one in particular, "May I be the worst enemy you ever have to face, you poor little things."

Verry nice..More? Or doth the jester but tease

This was soo adorable. The thought of all this adorable elf children is really great. Childhood and home life with parents are such a fleeting times in the big picture of elven life.

(ps. as far as formatting, breaking up the big chunks of text into smaller ones helps with the readability since there is no /p or PP or tabbing of paragraphs when you paste in)

Cloud_Dancing wrote:(ps. as far as formatting, breaking up the big chunks of text into smaller ones helps with the readability since there is no /p or PP or tabbing of paragraphs when you paste in)

This. Just a blank line after each paragraph to break it up and make it more readable.

Was very enjoyable nonetheless

Really wonderful read, Uniskorne...more please

Wow, I'd be horrified too! Good prank but damn

Moon Elves in Everska dressin up as Drow to scare guests would be like children dressing up as brownshirts to go to a bar mitzvah

Amianna Kennyrurdrenn was beautiful. She was slim but Nature had accented her in the right places. Her skin was flawless and the color of evening shadows. Her hair was ebony black, lacking any of those odd blue tints that most of her Kin had, and her eyes were a brilliant harvest moon gold. Even her name meant 'beautiful lady', and, as far as any of her peers, tutors, or Elders could tell, Amianna was perfect.

She had top marks in all her classes, was part of several organizations on and off campus, and had, for the past few years of her life, spent most of her waking hours doing community works to promote tradition, pride, and awareness amongst the residents of Evereska. Everyone agreed that she was either going to be a wonderful, influential Lady of a major House one day or had a promising career in any field she chose, probably ending in commissions and awards if not bardsong sung about her from Evereska to Evermeet to Arvandor. She was good-natured, polite, well-mannered, well-versed, and well-spoken. She was a devout follower of Corellon, had hinted at an interest to become a priestess (which made the Temple drool in anticipation), and was seen regularly at prayer between classes and before duty (any of them) called. Adults of the community spoke favorably of her in conversation and delighted in her presence when the occassion demanded that she interact with them. She was a credit to her parents and to Evereska, a fine example of what good, loyal, patriotic Evereskans could produce and nuture in a child...

Then, there were the Dwinanea Twins.

They were almost too pale to be considered Moonkin, and their eyes were death-stare clear and too large. They were too tall for their age and too thin. They had not ripened completely into womanhood, bearing still that awkward half-state that made young females the universe over look like twigs with bumps or boys with socks in their shirts. The overall effect made them look like freakish two-legged fawns. And, like fawns, all they could seem to do is gambol or hide.

She'd spoken with several of their shared tutors (a fact that angered her somewhat--how dare they share classes with her?) and had found out that they were failing horribly. When she questioned why they hadn't been suspended or, better still, expelled, the subject had either been avoided or a pitiful excuse had been given as explanation. It'd taken her some research but she'd finally found out the true reasons that the Academy humored these pathetic lesser-House failures: they were twins.

That was it. No other reason than the accidental conditions of their birth. She was appalled. She was shocked. Mostly, she was angered. Then, she had found out that they were being groomed as Knaves of the Missing Page. If she were one to use
colloquial language, she would've used the foulest word she could have thought of to express her emotions and thoughts on the subject. But, she wasn't so she settled for livid. She was livid.

A mere coincidence of circumstances had handed these irreverent girls endless possibilities, opened innumerable doors, and all they seemed to care about was pulling childish pranks on anyone and everyone. And what response was given? They were passed. Because they were 'special'. She understood that they had accepted the Jester as their patron, but she knew some of the Jester's Children and they were nothing like these two. They knew how to spread mirth without causing mayhem. They never pulled a prank that would, ultimately, hurt someone. These two never considered this possibility in their planning--if they even went so far as to plan. Most pranks ended with the Twins stifling laughs then making a hasty retreat from the scene, leaving everyone else to assess the damage and clean up the mess.

And, their manners--! She was convinced they had none. Every attempt to engage them in polite, civilized conversation resulted in either blank stares, sarcastic remarks, or the same, tired, annoying request--'Which one of us is Kyoro? Guess right and we'll talk to you!'. All said at the same time by both of them. It was enough to make someone pull their own hair, and they never apologized. Never seemed to think they had to. Not to peers, tutors, or other authority figures. Oh, she could recount their every misstep, mistake, and misconduct, but it would do no good. What was worse was that some of her peers considered them 'cute' and let them hang around them like creepy stray kittens. Even her own parents spoke in awed, hushed tones about the Twins, calling them--and this really made her want to start swearing--'Gifts of the Allfather'.

So, understandably, Amianna was, yes, livid when her friends invited the Twins to a much-planned, much-anticipated secret dormitory party. Though her friends usually defaulted to her logic (since she was the smartest, most beautiful, most popular one amongst them--it happens the universe over), they failed to do so in this instance, citing a need to nurture and guide the little lost fawns. If not for the dirt grinding between her molars, Amianna would've seen the wonderful selflessness of her peers. All she could see was a ruined party.

Then, someone had saved the day (or night, being the case) and produced three bottles--three!--of Elverquisst. She grinned wickedly to herself. And who had accepted a bottle for themselves?

Yes, the freaky stray kittens.

She'd poured herself a small glass of the potent liquid and had watched, gleefully, as the Twins passed the bottle back and forth between them. After a while, she'd lost track of who the bottle had went to last, but, all in all, did it really matter? Their eyelids were droopy, their words slurred or totally incomprehensible, and, somehow, in the course of the party, they'd misplaced their tunics. Amianna chuckled into her cup. They'd lose a lot more than that by the end of the night. More than a few of the males present were eyeing them in that undeniably lustful way young males (yes, the universe over--some themes are just that universal) do in the presence of alcohol and females.

Huh, she smirked inwardly, wouldn't it be great if they wound up pregnant by some lesser-House dimwit-?

Her joy was cut short as one of the Twins (didn't matter which one) rose shakilly from the pillows on the floor. Amianna watched her stagger to the door, and, at that moment, a cold predatory instinct washed over the beautiful elf girl. Making
sure to look as casual as her slightly fuzzy senses and motor control would allow, she set her cup down and slipped out of the room after the lone Twin.

The Halls were quiet, as was expected. No noise from the party would be heard--one of her friends had invited an upper-level classmate who could caste silence spells on an area--and there was no activity from the other rooms. Her excitement made her senses super-alert, and every slight noise became ten times louder. She kept three or four doors behind the Twin but could clearly hear her muttering about the heat. Amianna covered her mouth. The poor little fool was drunk, probably for the first time in her young life. A few motions from the Twin saw her leggings left behind in a crumpled puddle. Amianna shook her head, grinning madly.

Where was she going-?

Breath measured, Amianna followed the Twin through darkened halls and up winding staircases to the roof of the Academy's main building. The Twin exhaled loudly, throwing her arms up to the sky, seemingly worshipping the full moon hanging low in the sky. The arms dropped to the breast binder (why was she even wearing one? Flat-chested mouse!), and, within a few motions, it was thrown to the wind. The Twin swayed, looked down at herself, then, almost as an afterthought, slipped off the remaining piece of underclothing, waving it like a flag before sending it to the breeze as well. She swayed a few moments then staggered towards the edge of the roof. Amianna held her breath as a dread anticipation washed over her.

Then, she smiled ferally. It would be so easy, wouldn't it-? Yes, it would.

She stepped from the shadows and approached the Twin from behind, smiling as benignly as she could muster. Her heart raced as she neared the unsuspecting Twin, and, for a second, she hesitated to touch her. The second passed, and she clamped her hand firmly about the Twin's thin wrist. To her credit, the Twin didn't scream or even gasp--she just blinked blearilly over her shoulder and squinted at the unfamiliar face.

Amianna smiled, letting her take a few more staggered steps towards the edge. "You should be careful up here--" Which one was it-? Nevermind. "It's very high up, and you might fall."

A leg swung out over open air, and, this time, the Twin gasped. Amianna's smile broadened to an animalistic snarl as she took a step forward, unbalancing the Twin, forcing her to lean forward over the edge. One leg and one hand was the only thing
keeping the Twin from her death, and, Amianna smiled triumphantly, the hand could slip at any moment. The Twin's eyes were large, pleading now as the other leg swung weakly, failing to find purchase. Amianna let her grip slide to the Twin's hand and a pleasing whimper escaped the Twin's mouth.

Amianna chuckled hoarsely, sneering, "Jester's Luck to you, Cousin!"

...and she let go...

But the Twin didn't fall forward. Her arms pinwheeled backwards as a weight pulled her down to the roof where she stayed, either fainted from the shock or unconscious from hitting her head on the tiles. Amianna stared dumbly at the Twin, a roar of outrage bubbling up in her throat. But, before it could escape, a weight smashed the beautiful elf girl across the back of her head causing her to stagger blindly before she felt air under her foot. Instincts took over and she attempted to throw herself backwards from the edge, but only succeeded in spinning her to face her back to the ground. Her scream of terror froze in her throat, and so terrified was she that she almost missed the hand clamping about her wrist. The stars cleared from her sight slowly, revealling the horrible grinning face of the other Twin.

"It'd be so easy, wouldn't it?" the Twin hissed. "Poor drunk girl stumbled to her death although you valiantly tried to save her. They'd worship you, wouldn't they? And, as for poor Myo, they'd say, 'Well, those girls were strange' or 'I heard they were distraught by their Mother's recent passing'."

Amianna stammered an excuse, an apology, an unintelligable string of syllables meant to preserve her life, deny the obvious, and pacify this suddenly not-so-freakish, horribly cold hunting cat before her. An ugly smile curled the Twin's lips.

"It'd be so easy, wouldn't it?" she repeated. "Poor drunk girl stumbled to her death although I valiantly tried to save your life. I guess I was too drunk, and, poor Myo, she was already passed out when it happened. Some strange, drunken tryst gone
wrong. What would they say about you, I wonder? 'Well, the pressures of being everything for everyone must have gotten to her' or 'Well, she was too perfect--always wondered what she was hiding'."

"But--but--but I--I saw you drinking!" Amianna stuttered, trying to buy a few last moments of life.

A cruel, mirthless laugh escaped the Twin. "You saw a Twin drinking, probably didn't know or care who. Poor Myo must've drunk half a bottle. Oh, I'm bleary, but I'm not drunk. What? Trust you and your friends so much so that I would drink myself into oblivion? No."

The Twin took a step forward and Amianna yelped as she leaned out further into the air. Her body went rigid and her breath seized in her chest. She was going to die. All her life played before her eyes, and, suddenly, it seemed so shallow, so worthless. Everything she'd ever done would mean nothing to the gods if she died after her last few minutes of life. She'd almost killed Kin and taken joy in it. Tears of fear and self-pity welled up in her eyes and her mouth blubbered multiple, simultaneous apologies. The Twin tilted her head, studying her like some small, alien creature. Then, eerilly, a smile curled her lips.

"Which one am I? Answer correctly, and I'll let you live," she grinned.

Amianna almost cried out in outrage and despair, but she kept quiet, attempting to replay the last few minutes in her racing mind. Tears spilled over her cheeks. She couldn't remember who was lying on the roof. This one kept saying who, but she
couldn't remember. Her eyes flew over the girl--the only thing--keeping her from death. School robes, slightly rumpled and not laced properly--gave no clue to the girl's identity. Same face, same eyes--everything identical to the unconscious one
laying a few feet away.

Amianna blinked as her eyes flickered over the prone figure then back to her Twin. She looked again--there! A slash of color in their hair. One green, one red. Could it be so simple-? Like collars for pets-? Or bands for hunting birds' legs-? The colors had to mean something--could it be so simple-?

"My arm's getting tired," the Twin yawned casually.

"You're Kyoro! Kyoro!" Amianna cried, clinging to the hand that held her wrist. She laughed manically. "'Ky' means red! You're Kyoro! I'm right!" Doubt stabbed her. "Right?"

The Twin stared at her for a few moments too long then her face broke into a huge grin.

"You're right!"

Amianna felt herself pulled forward, the sensation of falling, then the cold, welcoming hardness of the rooftiles under her. She laughed and cried simultaneously, hugging her stomach, trying not to retch. Through bleary eyes, she watched Kyoro pick up a thick book nearby (so that's what the pain had been) and kneel down by her sister. She tucked the book under her sister's arm then gently, lovingly smoothed her hair. Perhaps sensing Amianna's stare, she stood and looked in her direction.

Amianna unconsciously flinched.

"There's some lessons Myo has to learn, and I can't teach her," Kyoro sighed. She looked back towards the edge of the roof, saying, "And, if you, for some stupid reason, decide to bring this unpleasantness to light, you'll wish I'd let you drop."

Cat-quick, Kyoro shot past where Amianna lay and disappeared down the stairs.

Amianna Kennyrurdrenn was beautiful, and, as the High Priest of Corellon watched her take her vows, he marvelled at the power of Corellon. Surely, the Allfather was strong and good if His Grace could move such a beautiful girl to take up his sword and walk in His ways. There were undoubtedly any number of young males who would miss her--she'd requested a missionary post--but, in the long run, she would do for her Kin so much more good as a priestess. There was only one thing that truly bothered the High Priest about her decision. When asked what made her choose Corellon's Path, she merely answered:

"I felt His hand grasp mine in the light of the moon one night and was shown mercy."

Brilliant, Uniskorne..thanks very much

You know a better ending would have involved a splat.

Very well written, but I want to jump in with an annoying bit of Evereskan Canon knowledge, don't hate me for it.

One of the properties of the Mythal that protects Evereska, since its founding and even surviving the phaerimm siege to be re-established is a permanent spell of feather fall and spider climb over the whole city.

It is common practice for the elves of evereska to ascend towers by walking vertically up their sides and in through a high window or balcony, I doubt anyone would have been in any danger even if Myoro had pulled a naked swan dive off the tower higher than eastpeak.

Not trying to rain on your parade, well written little story.

Oh Audark. I recently read that fact getting ready to explore the Western Heartlands, too.

So I assume, much like Hogwarts School of Wizardy and Witchcraft, their little "prep school" must exist somewhere in the wilds just beyond Evereska's fabled Mythal thus providing a proper locale for the education of Elvenkind's best students in the healthy country air.

also lessone learned from Lucy Lawless on the Simpsons:

"A wizard did it! Next question!"

The sun was gone. The sky was blackened by thick, rolling clouds of greasy smoke. Wild residual magic crackled in the air giving it the taste of metal. The Mythal was breeched. Kyoro could hear the roar of the flames, the clarion call of the alarm bells but she could not move.

Where is Myo?


She looked around at the other cadets of the twin academies forming into ragged ranks in the square. She looked at the bow in her hands as if she had never seen one before.


Blasts of fire erupted from the buildings on either side of the square. Shattered rubble and sparks rained down on her. She felt herself falling backward.

Then He was there. His black and red armor singed and covered in blood..maybe his..maybe the enemies'. His blazing green eyes locked to hers.

Tal'auron


The ground beneath her shifted and cracked. She lost her footing as he was torn from her grasp. She wanted to scream wanted to reach out to him. Something rose from the fissure that now seperated them. A form of monsterous size bathed in fire and shadow. Horror filled her, freezing her blood in her veins. The monster fell on the green-eyed male and crushed him. Dragging the limp and broken body with it the creature turned on her. A scream froze in her throat...



Kyo woke with a gasp. The echoes of the creature's roar still ringing in her mind.

Not again....please...not again

"They're like rats!"

Myo awoke, holding her breath. Her hand was clenched in a fist while the other searched fruitlessly above her head for arrows that were not there.

And Kyo's words echoed in her mind.

She flexed her fingers, feeling the numbness slowly ebb to tingles. She would have this nightmare for years to come, she knew. She'd watch Kyo pull her rapier with a smirk, she'd nod and draw her own sword, then Kyo would walk forward into eternity. She'd watch the kobolds--kobolds, Kyo!--swarm from the antechamber of the cave. She'd watch Kyo swipe at a couple while three more grabbed her cloak from behind. She'd watch as Kyo was pulled, in slow motion, to the cave floor, rapier flying from her hand, and, horribly, she'd watch the little beasts joyfully stab her sister to death.

Myo rubbed at her eyes, not surprised to find tears in them. Though she'd told herself a million times that there was nothing she could've done to change the outcome, she still blamed herself. She'd put on as brave a face as she could for Daertho, knowing that, of all people, he'd hurt worse than she would. But, here, alone in the back of a trader's caravan, she could be completely honest:

She'd watched herself die.

It was frightening to watch your sibling die, but, somehow, when she had your face, it was much, much worse. Myo inhaled deeply and sat up. She'd had visions of a sort all before the Battle of High Hold. She saw herself dying--but isn't that the tricky part-? If you're a twin, how could you possibly know who was to die if you only saw a face? You assumed it was you, but...

She groaned inwardly. She'd laughed at Mirela after High Hold. Called her a faker. Well, guess I'll never get to tell her--well, she's a card-reader, she probably already knows, Myo thought with a smirk. Her mind replayed all the people she'd known at Silverymoon. Rumors would probably say she'd died, too, and that was ok--she could show up and it'd be a great joke. She hated leaving as she did, but...there was too much Kyo in Silverymoon.

She finger-combed her hair, belted on her sword, and hopped out of the covered wagon. The sun was just turning the sky pink and the air was crisp and cool. She looked about and vaguely, vaguely remembered the area. Amazing how a month can change things. With a few quick skips, she positioned herself close to the front of the caravan.

A greyed human woman who'd seemingly smoked the same pipe from the beginning of the trip (Myo never saw her refill the pot), nodded her greetings from the seat of the lead wagon, then pointed with one gnarled, bony hand towards the horizon.


"Dere she is, m'dear," the woman grinned.

Myo peered into the distance and could just make out familiar shapes, now bathed gold in the risen sun. Evereska. Unbidden, a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Been 'way long, haveya?"

Myo nodded slowly, fingering the gem in her pouch, Daertho's words echoing in her mind: I was going to have it cut and fitted for a ring. You can put it in the family crypt instead of her body. She nodded back to the lady, sensing the want for an answer.


"Glad t'be back, den?" Each word came with a puff of smoke.

Myo grinned wide, "I am. Corellon help them!"

Somewhere overhead in the trees, she heard a chirp. Myo tilted her head as it chirped again. Her grin melted to a sad smile. Kyo...

*Chirp*

The twins will not soon be forgotten...thanks very much for bringing them to The Marches.