These days are a waste. I hate waiting and recalculating probabilities... Five mixed squads that are training on Temple grounds, are the best distraction from troubling thoughts. Artemus has some matters of his own to take care of, and I'm free to deal with the work and with my nerves.

He has finally found his daughter, and is spoiling her rotten with all the toys and plush animals. When I found an hour to spend at the Isle, I could watch Artemus in his leopard form, and Amaris. While I have no good feelings about the child (quite natural... asmodeans don't have that slimy mortal way of admiring children), I know she is important for Arty, so... I'd better learn it.

We talked a little, and Artemus invited me into the Tower. After all the previous experiences in the Tower of Earth I was rather reluctant to go in again, it isn't any fun to feel crippled and without magic. But is there anything I wouldn't do for a chance to be with the shifter? I decided to believe his words about making the tower stop breaking off all of my connections. Next morning I returned to the Temple. Elemental Towers of the Isle are too much pain for someone completely deprived of elemental magic.

The practices are very intense. I know we might have to interfere into events in the Old Temple district any moment. Keith has already configured the neural interfaces, so that the five squads may turn into perfectly coordinated collective organisms, but at the same time there's a lot of individual work with antimagic shells, living armors, and modern weapons both from Mentar Station and those Vitus bought from Drachen Walde Industries. I have already managed to earn a plasma burn on a wrist from a clumsy dodge of several arcs of bluish blasts - and from my own foolishness of not using an armor. Some of G'fenvass warriors are awfully good with plasmagun - even though they have never seen a beam weapon in their lives before. They don't even get surprised. Their faith explaints it all for them...

Well, going back there now. They have faith in Asmodeus, but also - trust in me as their leader. By Midnight, that's taxing!

Sael'bain is seriously vexed with my less violent way of thinking. He told me he was disappointed with the change that occurred to me when I met Artemus again. True... we aren't supposed to be so absorbed in personal affairs. Especially when we're about jumping into a war. But I've been absolutely taken by my duties for the last several centuries, giving up personal life for being a warrior and a priest of Asmodeus.

Usually we get a test of faith if our loyalty is in question. But at the moment, I fear it. I stared blankly at the bronze chitin of baatezu exoskeleton, and listened to his accusing voice, while remembering the Clandestine Realm. There were multiple examples of asmodeans losing their relationships after a test of faith. Duska and Jaziel, a couple of vampires that served the Lord, ended up being tested, and Duska tricked Jaziel into a deadly trap. Ged married Ariania Silkencoat, and ended up rushing into a divorce like there was fire on the end of his cloak (and hell if I know what was his Test of Faith about!). Thyme Arinathe... well, I do remember how he was just changed when he became Chosen. What would happen to me? Would there be anything worse than what I have already... enjoyed?

Tests of Faith don't always come as death and bloodshed. The most painful tests of faith are tests by promotion. Midnight's Wrath, I would hate to lose Artemus! And I would, if I'm chosen. I do not want to be shaped into a tool of His will, I've gone through too much to remain myself, would He take away this weakness that I cherish just to forge me as His weapon? Would He not see, that even with a mortal as a lover, I would still remain completely true to my Lord? I know well enough how much He has done for me. But why deprive me any connection with the world outside of the Temple?!

"You're not listening," Sael'bain remarked. "Your test of faith would be least traditional. You would be allowed to have what you've longed for. But if your relationship with this mortal leads to a major failure, you know the consequences."

Nearly bouncing off the walls, Artemus formed in the warm twilight of my study. I knew I was easy to find in the hideout - by the scent of coffee and
rustling of pages. "Evening, precious..." I looked up , putting down my favorite cup of translucent porcelain.

"Hey babe," he moved towards me and just scooped up in his arms to kiss me silly. Good that I found a moment to put down the cup! This was melting me...

Finally when both of us needed to take a gulp of air, I rubbed my cheek on his. "So how's it today?"

"Fan-frickin-tastic," he grinned setting me down, and went for another kiss. "Roshambo went 3-1 in our first match for IFL. Totally rocked the house."

Returning the kiss, I took in the happy mood, like a plant takes in sunshine. "I'm glad for you. Though good that I'm not into fists... By the way, love, what do you think of duels using real weapons but without spilling blood?"

That just made him raise a brow. "If no blood is spilled, how can it be a real duel with using real weapons?"

"Oh, it can... It needs more practice in what we used to call Control - to stop your blade a milimeter from opponent's body, cut off a button, or a lock of hair, or cut a belt... the duel goes until first such mark..."
I found it hard to explain, but still it had to be explained. At least it was one thing in common in several rituals of one specific type... Embarrassing to think of them, but what if he asks about the wedding rituals again? Bloodless duels, where the winner only marked a deadly strike, where the main goal was to show both art and control... We had it as a blade dance, appropriate to signify infinite trust.

Artemus tilted his head to the side. "Could be interesting, but the duels are the only place I've need of that kind of control. Outside of it I usually just clap my hands and whoever is annoying me dies...."

"At first such duels appeared in Clandestine to practice and make sure a warrior doesn't go amok during a fight. To be honest, they were brought there by Vanion - warriors of Myr'Khul were always a bit too bloodthirsty, and in a battle often what's needed is cold mind," I tried to explain, but how would one tell about a necessary practice turning into an art? In RhyDin, the dueling sports have been a sport for much too long.

"That much is true," the shifter leaned in to steal another kiss. The subject needed to be changed. I mocked a hungry vampire, brushing my lips on his neck.

"When is the next IFL match?"

"Don't know..still have to submit my lineup, and other things. We still have to finish this week," a soft shiver in him was quite well sensed... "And I can't think when you do that."

After a minute of sharing a kiss, Art pulled me close and held me against his chest. "It's been a while since we talked...can I ask you a presonal question?"

"Any question," I nuzzled into the touch. If it violates secrecy, I would simply say I shouldn't answer. It's within our traditions to be honest with those we trust, and despite all of his dhoine recklessness, I trust Artemus.

"What drew you into the service of Asmodeus? I don't think you've ever spoke of it, wasn't sure how to ask. Just curious. No need to answer if you've no wish to."

The memory of a Bound is always fresh. I smiled.

"I was just from my homeland, fresh from seeing the civil war and chaos, from losing mom to witch hunt and from losing someone very dear to me. I had nothing to live for, and alone in a strange new world. I was looking for distraction or destruction, whichever came first. And in the middle of this depression, I found fun in reading. I am not sure if the book about races of Clandestine was placed in my way, or it was an accident," I tried to shrug carelessly. "I found information about a race created by the Lord, and admired His skill and creativity. I felt compelled to know more of Him. The more I learned, the more I felt like my life was being filled with purpose...Their order, discipline and intellect attracted me to the Temple I thought dead - things I learned from the libraries. So... I just kinda took the risks and tried to pass the entry quests."

I stepped under the familiar arc of black gabbro instead of using a direct rift. For once I decided to come the way a visitor would... I loved it here - feeling His presence in the calm cool twilight... SaelBain met me at the entrance.

"I heard you're so seriously involved with this mortal, that you two are even thinking of marriage?"

Oops. I should have remembered that Sael had been my partner for years, and reads my thoughts with ease.

"Why not. I don't think I'm forbidden to..."

"Rhaine... My dear little biomage, one thing is simply involvement, another - formal relationship. You're blind with love, I can understand this. But rushing into this so foolishly... You may trust him under extreme circumstances, but in daily life you would soon grow totally bored and tired of him. His mannerisms would irritate you if you see them every hour. I know you too well, partner. You, like any of our officers, are too addicted to adrenaline or whatever replaces it in your body," Sael's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Normal life will kill you. We had to allow such a stereotypical addiction to form, as we needed the better qualities of you that developed due to it. But at the same time, by becoming better officers, most of you had no chances of what you call personal life."

"Triple bleh, Sael. Adrenaline rush may be cool, but I'd prefer an hour of rest every day".

"An hour. But not entire day."

"As if I would ever have a chance to get bored. Either Art would give me headaches, or my duty would."

I knew that for sure - with Artemus I have no chance to get bored. But at least doubts started gnawing on my mind, probably that was what Sael wished to achieve.

There are too many things that vex me in his behavior, and that is unfortunately true. His extreme confidence. His arrogance. His inability to believe that anyone but himself has some talents in dealing with problems. Art seldom realizes that he isn't almighty... I blame this on his young age, but I abandoned these illusions when I was only fifteen... I have been hoping to get used to this. Art's presence is a drug, but... what if SaelBain is correct? What if regular routine would bore me, and the vexing traits would turn into a true annoyance?

I slammed the door shut before Sael could follow me into my study. I needed to be alone.

A chill went down my spine. True... and this is part of the reason why Bound try not to interact with mortals. They age and die. We belong to magic, in a way we ARE magic, and we're doomed to see them age and die. Darquan warned me about such things...

"How long do your kin usually live?" I asked, my question making little sense. It was an insane hope, fragile and hardly possible.

"Since for the last several hundred years, no one has lived beyond that fifteen year limite marker. And since I'm mostly human in physiology, my animal half will keep me preserved till I'm around 80. At my earlier fifties and sixties I should still have the body and endurance of a man in his mid thirties."

Eighty years. Even with prolonged youth, this is merely a moment. So many dhoine realize they're mortal, and seek immortality... Sometimes they find us, and try to rip it out of our hands. To be honest, when we just met, I thought he killed Darquan for the rune of Binding, which some foolish dhoine think can help to live forever.

"I see..." my gaze wandered over his face, fingers traced his cheek lightly. "I hope you don't think that I'd be scared off by this?"

He closed his eyes and shivered in a chill. "I hope you won't be, but I felt it should be discussed. I don't want to die on you Rhaine...." His hand rested over mine gently. "But I won't accept any form of immortality if it changes me from the being you love." A warm smile slid onto his lips. "Immortality isn't worth the price of making you see me differently than what you have come to hold so dear..."

There would still be a woman that would be with him in old age. So... what difference does it make, if it would be me or someone else? The thought itself, that for some reason I would be deprived of him, made me shudder. Would it matter if it is time or some woman that would take him from me? Well, it would. Time is something my kin have always fought, be it time-space manipulations of lyrrath or living designs of giarre. Our victories were always costly, but they were victories. And women... I can not afford to destroy someone for selfish reasons. All deaths have to be rational, and cold-blooded murder out of jealousy sounds very dhoinelike.

Art's voice distracted me from multitrained thought. "So what am I, Rhaine?" His voice was soft, and lips almost touched mine.

"My precious. The man that has become more to me than binding itself... mortal or no, it won't change the way I feel towards you, it isn't your mortality that has my soul.. I love you too much to let you live and die without me, my precious"

However, my mind rushed to dedicate a few threads to mulling over this problem. If I'm so seriously involved with him, mere decades of his life are not enough.

Something is wrong with Art. I sense he's trying to change something in his life, and can only hope that won't be his involvement with me.

Did my letter turn him off? Did he consider my offer too miserable to discuss? Yes, I could have offered something that would involve Trance, but... I'm scared of it, scared senseless. Last time I was en-Tranced, it took coming into the Temple to free me from this state. What would be next?

Last night we met in the Red Dragon Inn, for an evening together without anything to distract us. I used Elynne's advise for dressing, and had my share of stupid looks from locals. Fashions of Mentar Station seem to be too different from local ones. Blue-steel colored summer dress appears to be too short for tastes of locals, and one of them considered me a... hmm... street girl, so I left one dried aged body on my way to the inn. But this left me vexed. Which was worst - Art didn't even notice. Men! It took the shifter some purring to have me cooled off. Purring and a long walk home. Would I lose these walks if the changes he's dealing with would occur?

Nuff. This is turning into paranoia.

As we left the Annex, I inhaled the night air. It was delightful, I loved it. Art's eyes closed, and he seemed to have teh same thoughts. I reached to steal a kiss from him, and we walked toward the suburban portal to the Temple. We both needed a walk and some time together after we watched Topaz losing her baronial ring.

Another thought was nagging on my mind. For two days Artemus has come to meet me, and in both cases I was sitting with Jase. True... Jase is insanely handsome in my eyes. He is an ideal donor and energy source. But Artemus means so much more to me...
As we walked between the trees, outside of ever-noisy city, I wrapped my arm around his waist.

"I'll ask you to help me brush up on tactics in magic dueling. If you can keep from using that ridiculous mentor tone, that is."
I remembered quite well their duel at Arena a long time ago, when Art's tone made me lose patience and rush out as soon as the duel was over. I'll never tolerate that again. But my words got a laugh from him.
"Mentor tone? I don't have a mentor..." Then got that "Oh" look and nodded. "I promise not to use it. And I'd be glad to help you with the brush up on tactics. Could use it myself."
A kiss sealed our agreement. I was thinking about kicking that fae Wyheree out of her tower. I have no need for keys, but such a blatant misuse of innate powers irks me. You're supposed to have the duels as a sport, not as a way to brag something you were born with.
My thoughts jumped, from Towers to his daughter. Amaris. Last time I have seen her, she lived with Art in the Tower. She reminded me of Mystic, of my precious little kin. I naturally voiced my question.

"She's good. Growing like a weed," Art replied, the grin sliding to his lips. "Good thing I can keep up with her. And if Shandren's family keeps being snobby to me I'll only let Shandren see her. They don't have a right to be in her life. Not when I was raising her on my own for all these months. Where were they? Even in this place, whole families don't just disappear."

Quite possible, I thought. Families here care little for those they consider dislikeable, and few people in the realm love Art. For a good reason, I admit. But another thing for Shan's family to dislike him - because he has me now. Because he didn't wait for her for a dozen years, and returned to me.

"They may be upset with you because of me," I said plainly. Yeah... someone has chosen to abandon the memory of sweet brainless kitty and to stick to the cynical vampire bitch.

"Screw them," he turned and lifted my chin up. "Shandren is not a leopard, permanent mating wasn't possible to begin with," his face getting really close to mine, nose to nose. "I searched for her for months, almost burned out my powers completely before I resigned myself to the idea that she had died. I even spoke with Antonio, Kinadria's husband on what to do."

I remembered Antonio, have seen him in the Inn, and could think that he would at least have the tact to say something about living on. Antonio, unlike these cats, has some brains in him.

"And what did he say? Something comforting?"

"Something like that, but he waited longer than I did. I think mostly because he's older and has had enough relationships he wanted to finally settle down. I'm just moving on, Shandren's the only one of them that Amaris needs to know. She wants tomeet them when she's older, I'll not stop her."

"Sounds like a good idea... I do not know them, but from what you told me about Shan, I wouldn't trust them too much. A family limiting the freedom of a gifted child, deserves little respect."

Vampire instincts of my artifical body are messing with my head. Seriously and surely. Something needs to be done about this.

Today I decided to check on the progres of map project. I found Jase in the library, delving in the chronicles. I know he reads a lot, and of course I took time to rearrange the books to make sure he gets the right impression from them. This guy has a keen eye and sharp mind, judging by today's conversation about the great Champions of Asmodeus. I gave him access to a special selection of chronicles on the secure shelf, and offered a lunch.

Usually new Snake accolytes underestimate the power of meals on humans (and not only humans). Relax, talk more openly, and listen with a more open perception - isn't this what we actually need from them? I ordered a selection from mrrshan cuisine, and led Jase to the gem-like dome of my study. Informal settings are often useful for delving through someone's impressions...

Mrrshan food impressed him. Taking time to swirl "Seaside Ruby" in the glass, tasting "dzrohi korci tkemali" (marinated grilled meat in plum and cherry sauce), Jase asked if I was trying to affect all of his senses. Should be some payback for his scent, shouldn't it? I was getting more and more dizzy. The wine could hardly overpower this scent.

For some reason Jase was really curious about antimagic shell. His questions showed pretty decent knowledge of magic theory, quite surprising for someone who doesn't use magic outside of the dueling rings. So I couldn't help asking about this. He nodded a bit thinking a bit further before blinking. "Ohh..sorry its just so interesting..even though I may never use magic it still is so amazing to think and ponder on how it could possibly work"

This made me gasp.
"You may never use magic? Why?"

"Its written in my dna..in no way shape or form can I use magics or attack and or defend against another..I dont know why but thats how it is..." there was a sad sigh to that last part, indicating a clear and sweet opening in the defenses.

"Sounds horrid," I shuddered, remembering my time without magic. "I wonder if abilities granted by the Lord can bypass this... they bypass my own limitations, so why not... but again, to try you'd need to be one of us, and it's too serious of a step to take for an experiment"

"Yes...but what about..hmm" he seemed to have given some thought to this. "If I was damaged quickly and then healed..with small changes in my dna..a large change could overrie what hte rest say...could that work?"

Aha, he knows what DNA is, and so is literate enough to talk over this in more detail.

"It could." I nodded. "Changes in DNA can also be done via retrovirus types, or via chain reactions. But again, we need to try"

"Pain doesn't bother me too much..I have delt with certain...situations most dont survive from so.....I've at least addapted to that..the question is how would my body react after words."

I do not remember the Edge City this way! People, thousands of dhoine. And no magic. There's general background, like natural radioactivity, but where is a single structured spell? The world has not become non-magical, but why aren't there any magic users? And there are the Temples? The Edge City was the stronghold of thirteen Temples, thirteen religions... I would understand if the fortress of Takhisis was turned to dust, this sourcepoint of insanity.. but the light-hearted, flowery temple of Mystara? The Spire of Morrigu? What in the Hells has happened? Why...

Why am I not feeling His presence?
And I run, in silent horror, afraid to believe the obvious. The Gods are gone. Lack of faith, drowsy laziness, lust for power, they tried to poison the Temples back then, but now they were the victors.

Only the building's outline can be seen from the shape of ruins, but I remember it.. I do. Three spires, three Paths - Sword, Snake, Crystal. Been to the top of two of them, never excelling much in diplomacy. The practice hall. How delightful it was ages ago, to meet one on one with Cyan, and realize that he does take this duel seriously... that any practice fight is with real weapons. Now only the walls remained, and not even all of them. Statues of the Lord - in the canonical Dark Rider shape, or in semi-abstract devil form. So long ago were the days when Tenebris and I practiced there, and the sound of clashing steel was our song, our music... Champion's strong hands disarm me, and his own broadsword is flung aside, and my world fades in his fiery, crimson eyes... and we hardly care who won or lost the training duel, as...

Pebbles crunch and rumble under my feet, and suddenly I slide into the Knight Lounge. It used to be a warm hall with a fireplace, with a ring for friendly dueling, with the soft reddish torches light... Now it's dead. It's all gone...

"You have returned," a dark smoke rises to my left wrist. Glaeddyv Sierthii, The Souldrinker. He had been waiting for me, hiding from stranger eyes. I stop moving. What would a sentient artifact have bumping into its... head? I have no idea, and I hardly wish to know. Centuries ago someone tried to kill me with this sword. They did. And only Lord's interference has pulled me out of dreamy sweetness of the Trance. So what's next, Souldrinker? Another attempt?

"No. You and your Lord have won"

And what are we up to, since we've won? The black smoke curls around my wrist like a bracelet and turns to stone. Now I can't remove it even if I wish to...

"Serve the victors. I've little pride"

Old dark stains near the ruined fireplace. Blood? Or spell, splattered over antimagic shell? A heavy two-handed sword slightly melted, as if from a plasma pulsar. I remember this weapon, sword of a close and trusted friend. Scent of death. Piotr... Was it here, near the fire, where we enjoyed sitting and throwing around ideas and thoughts, where we chatted about anything - was this your last rest? Are you... no more?

"He was one of the last protectors of the Temple. Those strangers burned him with his weapons. Vanion Redgar from the temple of Pantheos hardly held up for longer"

"How do you know?" I addressed the sword directly

"A weapon senses death. Especially a weapon from the Far Citadel, created by Sierth the Shadowmaster"

"Where's everyone? are they all dead?"

"Danimoth Haldane was awarded immortality. I did not sense the deaths of Ged and Renata Araya. Others are gone. The world is progressing, Giarre Rhaine. The time of Gods is gone. The Clandestine Realm is open to galaxy, and magi exiled. The Witchhunt has destroyed everyone who wasn't deprived of power with the leave of Gods. I have watched. I have known you would come, the Last Champion was too painfully deep in your heart, you would have returned for him"

Tenebris... The mentioning of him pushes me down on my knees. Midnight, doesn't that look stupid... But where is he? Is he... with the others? No, I don't want to believe this, I can't believe this! It's impossible that our Dark Paladin ...

"He was one of the last to die. Warriors of Morrigu resisted at their best, he was severely outnumbered. I remember how you have searched the Hells for him. Too late, Giarre Rhaine. You shall meet him on the Other Side"

The blade's voice is dull. I crawl out of the ruins. Dust and dirt on my light-blue uniform. Past is dead... buried in the dust. Everything inside me is dead. Nowhere to rush. The colorless voice of Glaeddyv Sierthii whispers, and my memory takes in the insiginficant details of what happend years ago. Why have I returned... we are no more... .

I feel nothing as I drag my hardly obeying body into a tavern. The mix of new and old is screeching, like iron claws on window glass. Wooden tables and plastic chairs. I need no human food, but old reflexes pull me into ordering something. Something - what? I do not feel the taste. Feeling anything is in the past. I merely strive to achieve the thoughtless emptiness that would at least show me what to do...

And I awakened with a scream.