...

"Ahhh..." Alysia muttered held up her hand to shield her eyes. Sunlight gleamed mirror bright against the water; the ocean-front shops and warehouses seemed black in start contrast. "Astaen's blood, why does it have to be so bright."

Vich, one of the Legionnaires, winced at the blasphemy. Alysia ignored his discomfort, drinking in the acutely familiar sights, sounds, scents and auras that made up this part of Rhilshen to her. Fire-red eyes glanced over the oceanfront crowds, picking out few threats among the busy dock workers, merchants, fishermen, and sightseers. Through the enhanced awareness granted by bloodspice, she quickly noticed one aura that stood out. It was one she did not expect to see here, not now, and it recalled her to her present purpose. A challenge to mortality.

She gently nudged Hazel and Vich aside, then stepped past her escort, squinting at the moredhel fae waiting at the docks. "Chryrie." Alysia bowed her head in greeting. "...you must be wondering why I'm here, almost as much as I'm wondering why you're here." After a moment, Alysia half-smiled. "Let us hope the current Emperialle is distracted. Otherwise, she'll be convinced that I'm gathering my family to retake her throne."

As soon as Chryrie started talking, Alysia began to formulate a response. This journey and its conclusion is fated to be. You can't stop me. Don't even try. But those words remained unspoken as Chryrie held up a hand, forestalling the expected comment.

"Now, before you start protesting, I'm not going to try to stop you. I already know you have your mind set. I could see it in the Manor mirror when I scryed the past, and I can see it now," Chryrie said. Alysia smirked in silent assent and subsided, listening to the fae.

Eventually, she nodded. She knows me too well, thought Alysia, and she will not be diverted. So be it.. She turned and looked at the two Legionnaires, tossing each a small pouch of coin. "Vich. Hazel. We will be heading west in less than an hour. Get mounts, hellsteeds if you can find them, and whatever supplies you need for two weeks travel. I will wait for you at . . . oh, the Plaza of Greenthorn, is that good enough? Good. Go." The pair saluted and moved toward the marketplace. Alysia watched them with narrowed eyes, then returned her attention to Chryrie.

"They'll be gone for at least a half hour. I trust them, but they'll most certainly be questioned by the Emperialle after they've discharged their duties, and the less they know, the better. Thraci has gone to great lengths to slow down official word of my presence here, and I'd hate to spoil her efforts." Alysia didn't volunteer any more information than that, and she stretched and began to make her way away from the harbor. After the days of travel aboard a ship, the ground felt particularly reassuring under her feet, familiar and solid. Reaching a tree-lined avenue, she commented casually to Chryrie,"I wonder. What did you want to discuss?"

"You know, you ruined a perfectly good retort I had waiting. But you deserve answers to your questions, I'll grant you that." Alysia pressed her lips together in a thoughtful smile, considering her words. As they traversed a stone bridge spanning a tranquil green river, she paused in the shade of a huge willow tree. She looked squarely at Chryrie for a while. The thoughtful smile turned somber. "Please believe me when I say that you are not to blame for what happened with Yhaull. That confrontation was quite inevitable and likely planned in many aspects. It certainly wasn't the first time I've reacted like that to goading or threats against my family, and given the same circumstances, I would do so yet again. I learned much about misplaced trust and alliances with that. . . experience. But I would have rather died, than have Lucien negotiate for my freedom with the coin he chose to pay. The guilt for his price is mine to bear. If you can protect him, that is more than I have ever been able to do."

Alysia took a deep breath, listening to sound of tiny waves lapping at the stone pillars supporting the bridge. She nudged a twig off the edge of the bridge and watched ripples spread from its fall. After a while, she added,"I'm old, Chryrie. I've hidden it for many years and there are very few who I have admitted this to, but thanks to my mother, I'm just human enough to quail at the concept of eternity. I have watched worlds change, and I have not changed. I have built tombs for more than one lover and most of my children. I have become a relic, and I weary of life, of the constant struggle and strife of living.

"My fate has been foretold. So, knowing with a certainty that I will die, I would die with a modicum of grace, at a time of my own choosing. When I was much younger, I learned of a divine graveyard called the Sea of Turmoil. I've visited there once - only once, it's far to the west, even past minotaur territory. It's a place where the ancients and forgotten gods of Rhilshen go to die. That's where I'm going." She skimmed narrow hands through her hair in an unconscious gesture that betrayed a restless hint of dread. Fiery eyes settled back upon the moredhel fae.

"Ultimately, everyone dies alone," Alysia reflected. "It is rare that you can bring a companion with you into the Dark. But someone should bear witness, and best that it be a close friend. Even better that it be dear family." She smiled, wrinkling her nose as she did so. "Trust that it is truly my wish, Chryrie. Besides, one never really dies as long as one is remembered."

The erstwhile priestess nodded as Vich and Hazel made their way toward the bridge, riding swift half-blood Hellsteeds and leading two more of the same along with a packhorse laden with supplies. A cloud passed over the sun for moment, dimming shadows. She looked back toward Chryrie. "Dark Lake is yours, Chryrie. It should stay in the bloodline. Some of Javan's little street rats may make their way back there, in time. I only ask that if they do, you see that they are cared for."

The Legionnaires saluted in unison as they came to a stop. "Recognized some of the Emperialle's personal guard hanging outside the chandlery," muttered Hazel. "Might be inclined to interfere."

Alysia looked from one to the other, some complicated emotion fading from her face, then she mounted one of the Hellsteeds. "I don't want complications. Let's go."

For fate has wove the thread of life with pain,
And twins ev'n from the birth are misery and man!
--The Odyssey of Homer.


The gulls wheeled and screamed overhead.

I sat upon the shore and watched the storm raging over the sea. The last several weeks, the journey from Rhy'din, the events that had led me here... they had all taken their toll and I felt empty inside. At my back, dawn crept over the Dragonspine Mountains and cast long shadows upon the ashen wastes. Somewhere east of here, my official escort was riding back to Aeshelm. Although they would not hurry their journey, I had no doubt Vich and Hazel intended to report to the Emperialle. They were Legionnaires, and it was their duty.

Acting upon a whim, I summoned my will and gave it form, then turned toward my sister with my palm extended. Against my fingertips lay a gleaming, iridescent pearl the size of a robin's egg. "This should be kept safe. If not upon your person. . . well, there is a coffer at Dark Lake suitable for holding it." I offered no other explanation, and Chryrie did not demand one as she accepted the small orb.

I fell silent again, a victim of my own treacherous mind.

"It's not too late to turn back," Chryrie said quietly, addressing my unspoken doubts. She sat next to me, kaleidescope eyes shifting, fingers trailing through the black sand. Her voice cut through the cacophony of crashing waves, thunder, and wind. "There are other options, Alysia."

"I know. This is the coward's way out, isn't it." My words were lost to the storm. I shook my head, cleared my throat and raised my voice. "This is something that must be done. Fate cannot be denied."

Banishing reluctance and fear, I got to my feet and strode into cold oblivion.