I feel you glowing in the dark
When I collapse into your arms
I'm just a stranger in the stars

Cause somehow it seems when I am with you
That all of my dreams begin to come true
And carefully you carry me away

I've never felt so wide awake
Cause I'm wonder struck
I love how you take my breath away
I'm thunderstruck
To tell you the truth, I'm so afraid
That I'm out of luck
I love how you take my breath away
I'm thunderstruck
Owl City ? ?Thunderstruck?

She woke with languid movements, skin warming under the touch of Zan?s hand and a smile curled upon her lips. Slumberous eyes opening just a touch, with the azure glow glittering under the fall of dense dark lashes. Her delicate hands, still smudged with graphite, drifted in a light caress, gliding over his chest and upwards where fingers tangled in soft black hair. An airy gasp fell from her, before a heated kiss followed. Simone could taste the copper sting of blood on his lips but it soon became lost in a wave of sensual desire.

She didn?t know what this was, but the force of longing was impossible to ignore so she rode the wave of it. Her nature was capricious, often rushing headlong and allowing the fates or destiny to direct her path. However, when it came to matters of the heart, Simone had learned long ago to be far more discerning. Hearts were very fragile things. Yet with Zan, she had thrown all caution to the wind. She was indeed living dangerously and dancing precariously along the very edge.

It was crazy, wild, impossible, and if any of her friends saw her, they would think her mad, but she found she could not stop this intense attraction anymore then she could stop a hurricane bearing down upon her. So powerful, it was storm of intense yearning. One that had caught her so fiercely in its embrace, she felt vulnerable but also exhilarated at the very same time.

She didn?t know what forces were at play which brought them together. Burning so hot and out of control and Simone didn?t care. Her thoughts were usually more organized but Zan had only to touch her and all prudence just dissolved like ice on a summer?s day.

Hours later, sprawled across Zan and tangled satin soft cotton sheets, breath still rapid from the sensual activities. One dainty finger traced the lines of the tattoo on his lean features. ?Tell me about where you are from Zan.?

He was different from anyone else she had met, and considering where she grew up, that was saying something. Unusual and unique was the norm when living in the south. So her curious nature was showing itself through that question. She wanted to know.

You come around and light up everything
You stun me with your smile and all you bring
You come around and make me wanna sing
And make me wanna sing my fears away

Here among the clouds
We are safe and sound
You lift me up
Mree - "Lift Me Up"

?Your home sounds lovely and I can tell that you have some fondness for the place that has influenced you for so long, aside from that war business. I can?t say I know much about such things. The last time there was a war anywhere near where I grew up it was about 150 years ago, which many still call ?The War of Northern Aggression?. I do know about evil and the monsters it spawns? Stirring a bit where she rested against him her fingers drifted across his skin in a gentle press.

?Twelve years old? They forced you to fight at such a tender age?? Simone didn?t bother to hide the outrage in her tone. ?Back home, our draft is 18, which many think unfair because most can?t even drink until the age of twenty-one.? Her head lifted, with a shifting of a long fall of inky black hair and regarded him in the dark. Her eyes taking on a sheen like a cat, faintly glowing. ?We do come from very different worlds.?

?Your world sounds more like the lands of my birth. It?s a baffling mess there. One side claiming to be light, warring with the other painted as dark. Now, if you ask me, both factions are bracque. You know, crazy?? Her head gave a light shake. ?I have been there a few times to meet my blood father.? Strain suddenly colored her words and she instantly changed the subject.

?I grew up in the country on a citrus plantation in the wilds of Paroisse des Plaquemines. Nothing like the scent of orange blossoms in the summer, just before the air starts to cool. Pauvre Maman always had a garden, filled with all sorts of wonderful things she grew for us to eat. She also loved flowers, and our home was always filled with whatever bloom was in season, especially roses. My Defan Papa, he traveled a lot for his business, but when he was home, we would go fishing or simply go out on the boat or pirogue and explore the bayous for hours and a day. Sometimes Maman would go off with Papa, and leave me in the care of Coralie Chauvin.? Her laugh was light and airy in the quiet room as she peered at Zan once more, with her chin resting upon the back of her hands. ?I will introduce you to her soon, as she will be joining me here eventually.?

She fell into silence and her eyes were full of memories, a faint blue shimmering in the darkness. ?I stay in town nowadays. Hard to keep up appearances back home. Amelia and others have helped me set up for the next phase. Luckily, for me, passing down names is common even for some woman where I grew up. I gave half of the orchard to Coralie?s son, who knows what I am, because his Maman is half Fae. She is also my Nanny, or Godmother to make more sense. He maintains the family business, and keeps my secrets too.?

A rare somber mien settled upon her delicate features with lips turning downward slightly. ?Humans are very superstitious so care must be taken. They generally destroy what they don?t understand and while some might say my youthful appearance is due to some voodoo gris-gris. In time, they might become fearful which is one headache I don?t need. So staying in town, does help. As one of many is easier to get lost.? In her search for how to deal with her own issues, she had discovered others facing the very same thing. Changing up their lives every so often as to keep hidden in a world that was moving past them so quickly.

Her moods were always mercurial, as Simone never liked to linger long upon the downside of most things. She often tried to lighten up such moments with humor. ?I shall have to tell you one day about the first time I was jumped by a hunter. He thought I was a vampire due to my lack of aging. Was quite amusing when all his tricks failed. I am neither allergic to garlic nor holy water.?

Zan was easy to talk with. She had told him things about herself that people she had known for years would likely never know. Simone may not be sure what all these emotional waves were but she did feel comfortable enough to share some rather intimate details about herself and her life. Tiny little things that were important to her and gave some clues to what made her tick.

And we're happy here, but we live in fear
We've seen a lot of temples crumble.
Some of flesh and blood from love under glass.
Will we come undone? Will we turn and run?
And will we know it when we find it?
It's a game the way we dance along the edge.
"Dance Along The Edge" - Concrete Blonde

Drawn out of her contemplation of the area, she looked up with a blink of azure eyes. Her dark head tipping slightly. ?Oh, yes you can put those books over to the side near those shelves I haven?t used yet.? Stepping over she took a stack off the top of his burden and gave a soft laugh. ?Thank you for helping me with this less than exciting task. I do appreciate the help.?

That bundle of tomes found a place on the shelf a moment later and she was moving off again, taking up a tumbler of tea and a sip followed. ?I followed that Drow, cher, but the one I located is not one of the kindred. Not if walking in the sun is an indication.? A few knickknacks found their way to another shelf as she spoke.

?I shall try again to track him down again, as I have the idea that he may know your friend. While my knowledge of that race isn?t the best, I read that they do general congregate around each other. Safety in numbers being the idea, I guess.? The book she held was lifted in emphasis and a cheeky smile dancing upon rosy lips. ?I also have a few things I need to take care of today. A few things for a client. I then wanted to take a few more sketches of that glen for Sjira.? Simone rarely discussed what exactly she did for her various clients. She was always discreet in her dealings and considering that some of her duties were of personal and monetary natures so it would be dreadfully crass to speak of them.

?So darlin? you are off the hook in the helping me. I need to go and get ready. Should be a busy day.? Another amused smile playing upon fae features and after a lifting up on her toes to press a kiss to his lean cheek and she was off. Heading up the stairs to her room.

Later that evening she caught a lucky break and spotted the Drow they had been discussing so she took the opportunity when it presented itself.

Later that evening:

Simone caught sight of the drow as he made his way along the cobblestone streets toward the Inn, his hands pushed deep into the duster he wore. She paused, watching him entering. A smile instantly bloomed upon her lips and she was heading towards the inn with a slightly faster pace. A light summery peach skirt drifting airy around her legs. Sandals made a faint sound as she headed up the steps and after a polite nod to a few on the porch she was heading inside.

His task for the evening was clear as he reached for a bottle of whiskey from the back bar and set it on the bar. The bottle of single malt was soon accompanied by a rocks glass. After opening the bottle, he poured the amber liquor a few fingers deep in the bottom of the glass.

After a quick look about for the dainty lady Simone had hoped to find tonight but when she didn't find her, she made her way towards the bar. Having noticed the drow already there, she figured now was as good a time as any to make some inquiries, but first, she needed some iced tea, the most common non-alcholic drink of southerners there was. Hence she slipped behind the bar with a smile to Welverine as eased past him to get to that pitcher in the cooler.

The drow casually shrugged off this duster, tossing it lightly atop the oaken surface of the bar, before making his way back toward the patron side. He stood at the far end, slowly rolling up the sleeves of the cerulean colored tunic he wore. Arcane runes, in silvered ink, could be seen all along his forearms.

Over the rim of his glass, a quick glance was given to the young lady behind the bar. Welv took a much needed sip of the whiskey before laying it to the oaken top once again. He leaned lightly against the top, bracing the weight of his torso on his forearms.

Ice then tea and she was a happy camper. Dropping a golden coin into the till a moment later. She still hadn't managed to figure out the exchange rate so better to over pay then under. Glancing out the window she noticed the dragon with another smile before heading back around. ?Evening.? Offered to Welv as she drifted past him with that fragrance she always wore trailing scent of jasmine. Making sure she had some distance of course. ?Mind if I ask you a question sir??

His azure eyes narrowed on the one with the inquiry, for he was far from being in a social mood. A gentle sigh escaped his lips as he considered his next words. ?That depends on who is asking??

The folder was laid upon the bar surface, while azure eyes still faintly veiled but the lowered lashes, taking his measure and reading that aura of his. Dark it was, just as she thought, but he was a drow and she had heard they tended to lean that way. ?My name is Simone. My question is really for a another who is also seeking an old friend. Do you by chance know one called Welverin?? Thankfully, her curious accent didn't mangle the name too much.

Simone was cautious, but not nervous as she continued to regard the Drow curiously. The only movement made was the lifting of a hand to tuck a wandering strand of inky black hair back behind a noticeably pointed ear while taking a small sip of that sweet tea.

A silvery-white brow rose slightly as he looked to the folder atop the bar. His eyes soon met hers trying to determine what this woman was all about. He didn't answer right away, instead turning his attention to rummaging in the pocket of the duster atop the bar. He pulled out an etched silver case, soon opening it to drawl out one of his smokes. He lifted it to his lips. A simple cantrip, a somatic gesture of the hand and the cigarette was lit. He inhaled slowly before turning his attention back to Simone. "Perhaps...perhaps not. That depends on why you seek him out."

?Well, like I said. My friend Zandramaschal, is the trying to locate him. I thought that you might know of him because he is of your race.? Ever so polite she was and her smile was the most charming one she had in her own arsenal. The use of magics even those tiny cantrips meant her own glamor and unique talents might be far too obvious. So, she went on pure personal charisma to carry her through.

Maerissa smiled to Icer upon entering and crosses toward the bar where she paused just long enough to dip her hand behind it, and as she lifts her hand, a glass with her favored drink appears. With a sip from it, she turns to the end of the bar and smiles. "Good evening Welverin. A pleasure to meet you again."

?Ah, so you are Welverin then.? Velvet soft laughter as Simone regarded the Drow and her dark head tilted to the side with easy humor. ?You had me confused and I am going to hazard a guess, Zan will be as well because you are not as he remembered you to be. Of that I am certain.? Cryptic and murky that comment but it fit perfectly.

He took another slow sip of the whiskey as he studied Simone's face, etching it into his memory incase he needed to recall it later. He sighed gently and he shook his head, Maeri giving him up just in greeting. He smirked to Maeri."Good evening." He turned his attention back to Simone. I know a Zandramaschal...there are not many by that name...but he is definitely not drow."

?I thought you to be a different drow as the one he sought. One he believed to be more like him. If you follow my gist, darlin'? Azure eyes just twinkled with silent humor as she saluted him with her glass of tea before taking a sip.

Maerissa glanced between the two for a moment and then she took another sip before slipping up on a bar stool and taking a lean. For some reason this might prove to be interesting.

He met Simone's eyes a long moment, considering her words. His tone was quiet, "Last I knew Zan was taking a dirt nap. You sure you are speaking of the same man?" Once again the whiskey was brought to his lips. "And no offense....as cute as you may be....the Zan I knew never had much use for friendship."

?Here, this has my address on it. I have only just moved in a week ago.? An elegant calling card, the type one might have seen during a bygone age but was still commonly used today in certain circles of course. ?Zan, tall, raven black hair, blazing green eyes. Celtic and tribal tattoos. Any of that ring any bells??

Welverin took the card inspecting the writing. "That sounds like the one I knew, but I don't understand if he wanted to find me. Why in the Nine Hells didn't he just come himself?"

Maerissa's attention was drawn for a moment toward the porch. A slight cant of her head, as if she were hearing something whispered. Then her attention was drawn back to the conversation at hand.

?He didn't know where you were Welverin. He asked me to keep an eye out for a Drow. I think you do fit that requirement. Now, if you would rather meet him some place more neutral, then by all means give me a location and I shall pass it over to him for a meeting.? Her tone held a wealth of patience as she replied serenely to his response. "Another tasked him to find you. To be honest I get the feeling that one is likely not so kind."

He stood from the lean, taking another long drawl from his cigarette. "I have a shop in the West-End near the docks. It is easy to find. If Zan wants to talk, he can find me there. The sign hanging above the door reads "Venomous Whispers". He will recognize the name..for if it is the same Zan he worked for me for years." Welv reached out to snuff the cigarette out in a nearby tray. "But tell me one thing...did this other..that tasked him to find me...was a name mentioned?"

She turned so her back is against the bar. A glance out toward the commons as she continued to sip her drink. While her attention was seemingly drawn to other things, Maerissa couldn't help but glance in Welv's direction at the mention of the shop.

It took her a moment to filter through her often-cluttered memory and from that, she plucked a name. ?I believe the name may have been Marisse, but he only mentioned her maybe twice that I can recall.? Simone didn't add that Zan had seemed less then pleased at the thought of that one also.

His eyes narrowed, his tone becoming a bit solemn. "I see.". . .not much could shake the drow up, but the mention of that particular name definitey aggitated him. "I am not sure how Zan got mixed up with that one, but you both need to stay away from her. Kind is not a word she understands. She has no regard for life what so ever. I hate to tell you this, but Zan is in way over his head."

For a moment Maerissa took on a soft gold glow, almost like a bubble shimmering just over her skin. She rose then and made her way toward the hearth, drink in hand, strangely enough still filled almost to the brim.

That news gave her pause as she looked curiously at Welverin. It was obvious that Simone didn't like that information in the least, as she carefully placed that glass of tea down upon the surface of the bar. ?Is she dangerous then? I suspected she might be, as I felt something akin to disgust when he spoke of her. He has no fondness for her. Of that I am sure.?

Maerissa chose a seat on a couch that was near the hearth and curled up there, legs to the side a she leaned against the arm of the couch. Still able to draw from the comings and goings in the inn, she sat quietly now, sipping her drink.

He shook his head lightly before lifting the glass to drain the whiskey within. "I have seen her personally gut someone from stem to sternum, because she didn't like the way someone smiled at her. Dangerous doesn't begin to describe what she is capable of. If she has Zan's ear...you both best be looking over your shoulder." He gave Simone an apologetic look. "You will have to excuse me. I have a few things that need my attention, especially with this news. Have Zan find me."

?Of course. I most certain shall send him your warnings and regards.? Her dark head dipped in a polite nod towards Welverin, while she was already collecting that small folder. Simone didn't pause, just spun about and was heading for the exit, as she now had to find Zan. Offering more polite nods to those out on the porch as she passed, and she was heading off into the darkness, soon racing towards her home.

Welv lifted his duster from the bar top, giving Simone a brief smile. He moved toward the hearth a moment on his way toward the alley door. His tone was teasing, even in the given circumstance. "By the way. I still haven't forgotten about those eggs." He knew Maeri would hear him, and a light smirk played on his lips. "I wish I could stay and catch up but unfortunately I have to take care of a few things."

A note that the conversation seemed to be drawing to a close, Maerissa regarded him for a moment. Then in reply she offered ?I will stop by your shop to discuss business.?

Welverin offered Maerissa a sincere smile, the first all night. "I look forward to it. Take care Maeri...and please don't ring the bell before noon." He gave her wink before continuing to the alley door

"Woke up this morning, shot out of bed
When I heard the sirens running through my head
Turned on the TV, saw my darkest fear
Imminent Destruction was finally here"
~From Imminent Destruction, A Song by Eternal Decision~

After setting down the quill next to the ledger Welverin was updating, he looked up from the leather bound tome. His azure gaze fell upon the familiar face of the raven-haired warrior standing just inside his office door. A sincere smile formed on the drow's lips.

?Well now, look what the cat has dragged to my door. It?s been long time Zan. What has it been . . . eight . . . nine years? The last I heard you had taken to ground.? Welverin?s eyes narrowed as he looked to Zandramaschal?s face in an attempt to assess his old friend's mood.

There was a clattering of fangs followed by the clicking of a tongue as the shadow imp on the desk shifted its pupil-less milky white gaze to look between Welverin and Zandramaschal. The abyssal creature craned its neck unnaturally and sniffed the air toward the warrior?s direction.

?He smells like no feline, Master . . . the human smells of dog . . . undead at that.? The imp chattered in a low hiss.

Welverin?s gaze shot toward the imp immediately, his tone sharp. ?That?s enough, Neqa?el. Mind your tongue or I will cut it out. Zan here and I are old friends.? After snarling at the drow, the imp leapt with cat-like grace to the top of a bookshelf across the room. The fiend was still chattering quietly under its breath as it disappeared into the shadows

Welverin shook his head lightly and looked back to Zandramaschal, a look of annoyance on his face. ?Sorry about that. It is hard to find good help these days. Please, sit down.? Welverin gestured to one of the plush leather chairs in front of his desk with an extended hand. ?I think you had better tell me your story of how you arrived back in this city from the beginning. You see, I ran into your little friend in the Red Dragon the other eve. What was her name? . . . Ah . . . yes, I remember now . . . Simone, that?s it.? Welverin reached to the etched silver case sitting next to his ledger. After opening the case and drawing out one of his cigarettes, he lifted it to his lips and lit it with a quick cantrip consisting of a quick somatic gesture. He slowly exhaled the smoke obscuring his features briefly. ?I must say I am quite impressed. I didn?t think you had it in you. She is quite the eye candy isn't she?.? The drow took another slow drag as the features of his obsidian colored face brightened fleetingly. After exhaling the smoke once again, he chuckled. ?Tell me you are bedding that sweet little morsel. ?Welverin raised a silvery-white brow. ?I can assure you if you are not sleeping with that one . . . she will most likely be off the market soon.?

Zandramaschal had taken a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk but Welverin could quickly tell from Zandramaschal?s narrowed eyes and the stern look on his face that the man was less than amused with his choice of words. Welverin shook his head lightly once again and chuckled. ?Oh, you actually care for this one. How quaint.? Another slow drag was taken as he let the tension ease just a touch. ?My apologies Zan. it seems I have touched a nerve. You have seemed to have lost your patience, but don?t fret . . . I think I see it lying there right next to your composure.?

Welverin had indeed touched a nerve, and it was taking every bit of that fore mentioned composure to keep him from leaping across the desk and throttling the drow. Zan had become quite protective over Simone. Not only did he care for her but she had stolen his heart from the first night they had met. Zandramaschal stared at the drow for a long moment as he let his brief anger subside. There were much more dangerous matters to discuss and Zandramaschal knew just how arrogant his former companion had always been. He tried his best not to take offense.

As he studied the drow?s face, Zandramaschal leaned up from the leather bound chair. He could hear Welverin?s heart beating in his chest as well as the blood coursing through his veins. He could hear his lungs fill with air with every intake of smoke from the cigarette he smoked. Simone had been right. Welverin was no longer kindred and was Zandramaschal was completely confused.

?By the Fates, what has happened to you Welverin? How is it even possible that you are now walking under the warmth of the sun?? Zan asked of the drow.

Welverin reached out to snuff out his cigarette in the bone ashtray on his desk, which was in fact the halved skull of a gnome. After reclining back into his chair, Welv studied Zan for a long moment. A subtle smirk played over his lips. ?That?s right. You were not around to see the aftermath of our little confrontation with the Xin?dranis Cabal. You had already gone to earth licking your wounds and tucking your tail from your injuries, leaving me in the sadistic hands of the Tzmisce.? Welverin paused and locked eyes with Zandramaschal. ?I don?t blame you . . . that whole situation was screwed up from the beginning. We were in way over our heads. We had no chance against the forces of the Sabbat that day.? A sigh escaped the drow?s lips into the air. ?I won?t go into details for we have much more pressing matters to discuss . . .but to answer you question briefly. . . the Tzmisce used Koldunic sorcery and an artifact called the Bloodstone of Seth to rip the Gift from my being. The Dark Council thought to lessen my ability to stand against them but they were quite mistaken.? Welverin stood from his chair and moved around to the front of the polished black walnut desk, closer to Zandramaschal. The drow casually took a seat on the front corner edge of the desk, letting one polished boot dangle in the air. His other boot was still upon the ground. ?That is a tale for another day. What I want to know now is how in the Nine Hells you have become mixed up with my ex-sire Marisse. Are you mad? I warned you about that lunatic decades ago.?

Zandramaschal sighed, out of habit alone. He wasn?t happy that Welverin had insinuated he had left the field of battle early. ?I didn?t have much choice Welverin. Indeed I went to ground after being overrun by the shadow mages and their summon minions. If you remember correctly I saved your arse many times that day and took over a score of them down and a few of the Tzmisce themselves before my injuries became too much to bear.? Zandramaschal shook his head. ?My injuries were sever enough that I was forced into tupor and that is where I have been for the last eight years. Until a few weeks ago, when Marisse woke me up.? Zandramaschal?s eyes narrowed as his tone became a bit lower in volume. ?She is looking for you Welverin and has tasked me to drag you back to her feet.? Zandramaschal smirked. "What I need to know now is how you are going to help me put that crazy wench back in the ground.?

Welverin smirked once again. "I actually have a few ideas regarding that. I set plans in motion shortly after I learned from your companion, Simone, that Marisse was in the city. I have a few loose ends to tie up and I need to speak to a friend of mine, Tasha. I should have a concrete plan in a few days." He looked to Zan, a serious countenance in the drow's gaze. "In the mean time, get wherever it is that you are laying your head heavily warded. I will send word to you when I am ready. In the mean time . . . stay away from demented bitch, Marisse. Unfortunately, now I have other matters to attend to. I am assuming you can find your own way out."

Zandramaschal stood from the chair and started to walk to the office door. Upon reaching the threshold, the warrior half-turned in his stride. "It was good to see you again Welv. We will talk again soon." With out another word, Zan closed the office door and started his journey home, to Simone.

Welverin stared at the closed door that Zandramaschal had just exited through. He shook his head knowing the blood bath that was mostly sure to come. The drow stood and made his way back behind the desk. He whispered absently."It was good to you too, my old friend. Hopefully Marisse wont find you before I can figure this mess out." The drow lamented as he picked up the quill once again and looked back to his ledger.

"Another Love"
A Song by Tom Odell

I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care
But it's so cold and I don't know where
I brought you daffodils in a pretty string
But they won't flower like they did last spring

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright
I'm just so tired to share my nights
I wanna cry and I wanna love
But all my tears have been used up

On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up

And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fight
But my hands been broken, one too many times
So I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rude
Words they always win, but I know I'll lose

And I'd sing a song, that'd be just ours
But I sang 'em all to another heart
And I wanna cry I wanna learn to love
But all my tears have been used up

On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up

I wanna sing a song, that'd be just ours
But I sang 'em all to another heart
And I wanna cry, I wanna fall in love
But all my tears have been used up

On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up
On another love, another love
All my tears have been used up


As Welverin?s eyes opened slowly, the drow suffered a moment of disorientation. Just how long had he slept? It took his eyes a moment to focus to the light of the afternoon sun coming in through the windows of his loft apartment above the import shop. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips, he had slept more soundly than he had in days and he felt completely rested. The past few weeks had been extremely busy. The renovations of his new business had kept him up into the early hours of the morning and now there was the situation that had arisen with Marisse. The latter situation needed his attention foremost. Welverin slipped from beneath the silken sheets and placed his bare feet upon the wooden floor, soon rising to start his day.

The drow paused at the foot of the bed taking a moment to pull a pair of black soft leather breeches from the ornate trunk located there. After pulling the breeches up his legs and over his hips, he moved to the bathroom. He took a moment to wash the remnants of sleep from his face. As he looked in the mirror, a touch of despondency touched his azure eyes, fleetingly. He didn?t know how he was going to face Belial again. Welverin had not seen Bel since they had returned from their brief furlough to the forest, she had been busy dealing with the concerns of Onyx House and Welverin had been busy with the responsibilities of his import business. It had been a few weeks since he had even spoken a single word to Belial. As he moved from the bathroom toweling the moisture from his face, the drow moved to the wardrobe to find a tunic, a well-tailored shirt of cerulean dyed silk. As he pulled the tunic over his head, his thoughts were still troubled. He was starting to feel uncertain. The sensation of closeness he had with Belial was fading and a sense of disconnection was starting to steal over him.

As he tied his long silvery-white locks back into a pony tail, his feeling of alienation was quickly turning into one of frustration. Belial had stolen his heart, and he would always love and care for her but as he stood there looking into the mirror, he silently wondered if he was still in love with her. What was he even thinking by walking back into her life? Every time he had tried it had been nothing but a disaster. The whole concept of complete monogamy to one person was a little foreign to the drow, and honestly a bit unrealistic in his opinion. Welv did realize that Belial would not have the same opinion but currently he wasn?t even sure if that mattered. How would he have known if an emotion of any importance had taken hold of him at this point? It seemed quite possible to him that he was starting to feel quite distant from Belial or simply nothing at all. Perhaps, it was just his defense mechanisms starting up, maybe not.

Welverin moved walked across the loft towards his desk, eyeing the large book sitting atop the polished black walnut surface. An obsidian colored hand traced over the ancient leather bound tome that Tasha had given him the previous night. As he eased down into his high-back chair, he opened the tome. The vellum pages were delicate and covered in archaic runes, an ancient forgotten language. Fortunately, the drow recognized the language as High Netherese. He noticed the name of the wizard who had penned the book, Karsus. Welverin shook his head, and blinked his eyes. The features on his face resembled a baffled child. How in the Nine Hells had Tasha acquired such a tome? The talents of the young Trueblood never ceased to amaze him. The magocracy of Netheril was one of the oldest ancient human empires of Faer?n. Netheril was also the home of the most powerful wizard who ever walked on Faer?n, Karsus. The Netherese were known for creating powerful artifacts known as mythallars, which allow mundane objects to become magical, dramatically changing the face of the Netheril Empire.

Netheril was destroyed by Karsus's Folly: an attempt to steal the power of Mystryl, goddess of magic. She sacrificed herself and was replaced by Mystra in a last ditch effort to save Faer?n. With her last remaining bit of power, Mystryl sacrificed herself to block Karsus's access to the weave, causing all magic to fail. The flying cities of Netheril plummeted to the earth. The severing of the link also killed Karsus and transformed him into stone, and the last thing he saw was his entire civilization being destroyed because of his actions.

Welverin had not realized that any of the Karsus?s works remained intact. He silently wondered if Tasha actually knew what she had. He chuckled lightly and flipped to a page marked by a feather. Tasha had told the drow that he might find that particular spell very useful in his attempt to track down the location of Marisse?s haven. Indeed Tasha had been right. The nature of the spell was intended for binding, the summoning of a powerful denizen of the lower planes of the Abyss, a greater shadow wolf. There was just one problem, one of the components of the spell consisted of blood, the blood of the one who the demon wolf would be summoned to track. How in the Nine Hells was he going to get any of Marisse?s blood? Then an idea dawned on him, the proverbial lightbulb brightening over his head. Marisse?s blood flowed within Zandramaschal. All the drow had to do was convince his old friend to relinquish some of his vitae.

Still bare footed the drow got up from the desk and moved toward a door on the far wall. Opening the door would reveal a wooden staircase. He descended the steps and quickly found his personal assistant, Yaxori. The ashen skinned tiefling was in the back room of the shop, inventorying the recent purchase of some draconian items that Welverin had purchased from Maerissa Drakonis. Yaxori was carefully packaging two dragon eggs in a crate, one silver and one gold. The tiefling quickly cast her eyes downward to the floor when Welverin entered the room.

?Yaxori. I need you to bring a message to Zandramaschal Dagashi for me. The same man you brought to my office a few days ago. I need to see him tonight after sundown. Make sure you inform him I have a matter which needs his urgent attention.? Welverin was already walking back down the hall toward his office. ?There is a card in the top drawer of my desk, the name on the card is Simone Evreux. You fill find Zan in her company. Her address is listed on the card as well.?

Yaxori simply nodded and returned to her work as Welverin left the stock room. ?Yes milord, it shall be done.?

?Witchy Woman?
Lyrics from a Song by the Eagles

Raven hair and ruby lips
sparks fly from her finger tips
Echoed voices in the night
she's a restless spirit on an endless flight

The sun had been over the horizon for only a couple of hours when Zandramaschal?s eyes slowly opened. It was rare for the warrior to be awake before the sun dipped below the western sky but for some reason he couldn?t sleep. His mind was reeling. His dreams had been so vivid, so real. For a moment he thought he was still submerged below water while tendrils of shadows were swirling about him . . . crushing him. A face appeared in the watery depths, taunting him, laughing at him, the face of Marisse. That is the moment when Zan had woken up. His eyes were slowly getting used to the darkness in the room and soon familiar objects started to appear out of the gloom. The sound of water running and soft humming drew his attention to the closed door leading to the bathroom.

Zandramaschal eased from the tangled sheets and moved toward the door. His hand fell to the latch and he quietly pushed it a jar. The bathroom was full of steam from the hot water of Simone?s shower. He smiled as he heard her humming absently behind the curtain. Without warning, he opened the curtain and stepped into the shower. His sudden appearance made Simone jump, startled a bit.

?Well good morning, cher. I didn?t think you would be up this early. Celeste is down stairs she is warding the house.?

Zan paid no attention to her words and simply wrapped his strong arms around her wet body, pulling her tightly into an embrace.

?B?, what are you doing? I need to get ready.? Simone?s tone threaded with laughter.

Zandramaschal placed a hungry kiss to her neck as his hands fell just below the small of her back drawing her slick body even tighter against his muscular frame. ?Cher, we can?t do this right now. What if she hears us??

Zan lifted his lips from her neck and he looked into her azure eyes. A hint of mirth played upon his lips.

?Cher, don?t look at me like that. I really need to get ready.?

Before Simone could offer another rebuff to his advances, he leaned in and silenced her words with a deep passionate kiss, hungry with desire.

A little later in the morning, Zandramaschal was humming softly to himself as he made his way downstairs leaving Simone upstairs to finish getting ready for her day. His hair was still quite damp when made his way into the great room of the brownstone. He was dressed in simple pair of tawny worn leather breeches and a black cotton tunic adorned his torso, open at the neck. The warrior?s feet were still bare as he made his way toward the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, Zan found a woman with caramel colored skin sitting at the table with her eyes closed. A bizarre magical energy surrounded her while tendrils of arcane smoke wafted into odd images in midair. As he leaned against the frame of the doorway, a raven brow arched curiously as he watched the woman, who could only be Celeste from Simone?s description of her friend. Celeste paused in her ward crafting as she sensed Zan?s presence.

?It isn?t polite to stare. Please sit, Zan. I am almost done.?

In disbelief, Zan blinked for Celeste had not even open her eyes. He silently wondered how she knew he was even there. Feeling a bit anxious, he eased into a chair across from the woman quietly, careful not to interrupt her craft. He was not really sure what to do or say at this point. Zan simply sat there trying to discern the translucent shapes floating between them above the table. Luckily, Simone entered the kitchen just moments later, running her delicate fingers through her damp raven locks. Zandramaschal looked between Celeste and Simone, the features on his face a bit baffled.

Celeste cracked one golden green eye and looks at the pair of them and lips twitched knowingly. "Just one more minute." A hand rose and she took a puff of what most might call a cigarillo and that potent scent hit the air. "Had to send Papa Loa his cigar or he might get vengeful. Oh, and done. So, is this city into water conservation?"

Zan quickly winced inwardly and looked to Simone. Embarrassed and now flustered she glared lightly at Zan. There were various shades of pink upon Simone?s cheeks. She really didn?t want to answer that question and she quickly changed the subject. She glared at Zan once more time before looking to her friend.

?Um . . . I see you two have met.?

An apologetic look touched Zandramaschal?s emerald eyes as he watched Simone make her way into the kitchen and slip gracefully into a chair at the end of the table, though he wasn?t really sorry, the thoughts of their shower still fresh in his thoughts.

Celeste looked between the couple and her full lips formed into warm approving smile. She was honestly happy for her life-long friend. Zan seemed pleasant enough and she could tell he simply adored and cherished Simone. A light laugh passed through her lips.

"Oh Simi, there is no need to be embarrassed.? She reached out and placed a reassuring touch to the back of Simone?s hand before patting it gently. ?That shade of pink is lovely on your face but you have no need to fret. I am also one that supports water conservation. Often makes one a bit late for work but it generally keeps a smile on your face, all day long."

Celeste?s reassuring words put Simone at ease and the next few moments were spent in light conversation mixed with laughter as Simone and Zan told Celeste the story of how they met. The time soon came when Simone needed to start her daily routine. She had talked Celeste into joining her for a few hours so they could catch up before Celeste had to return home.

After giving Zan a brief kiss and watching her friend, Celeste, give Zandramaschal a friendly hug, Simone left the brownstone with Celeste to begin her day. Simone had a laundry list of tasks she needed to accomplish, the first being to meet with the Master Yenkas Droverson about a certain puppy that Zan had been hinting about.

"Smiling Faces Sometimes"
Excerpt from a Song originally recorded by the Temptations

"Smiling faces sometimes pretend to be your friend
Smiling faces show no traces of the evil that lurks within
Smiling faces, smiling faces sometimes
They don't tell the truth uh
Smiling faces, smiling faces
Tell lies and I got proof
The truth is in the eyes
Cause the eyes don't lie, amen."

Zandramaschal had been summoned once again to Venomous Whispers, the import shop owned by his former friend and colleague, Welverin. An ashen skinned tiefling had come to Simone?s brownstone late in the afternoon, just after the sun had set in the western sky, to deliver Welverin?s meeting request. Yaxori, the grey skinned tiefling, had escorted Zandramaschal back to the shop, and to Welverin?s office. Yaxori had instructed him to wait and informed him that her master would not be long. After meandering about the cluttered office, Zan took a seat in a chair before the polished granite hearth.

The fire in the hearth was roaring, even though it was still mid-summer. The fire was warm and welcoming. Zandramaschal sat in a cushioned high back chair before the flames, watching the sparks fly up the chimney. The sparks reminded him of tiny Wisps floating up to the Heavens. When he was a child, Zan once had friends that were Wisps, back in the lush southern forests of Lendore, his homeland. His friends were only tiny when they needed to be, when they used their magic to become small points of light. Zan remembered what it was like to reach out and touch those lights. The fingers on his strong hands throbbed with the memory. Suddenly, he was missing his homeland. His brief reverie was interrupted as the door behind him opened. Zan turned his head slowly to the door, quickly recognizing the lithe form of the drow he had come to meet.

Zandramaschal knew from the moment the drow walked through the threshold something was amiss. Welverin?s hands were weaving somatic gestures in the air as he entered the office and a string of arcane words were being spoken , words that Zandramaschal did not understand. The hardened warrior leapt from the chair, demanding an explanation. ?Welverin, what is going on? Why have you summoned me here with such urgency?? The cold indifferent look in Welverin?s eyes suddenly made Zandramaschal feel a sense of fear he had nod felt in a long time. The emotion, the uncertainty, made him feel human once again fleetingly. It brought him back down to the world and he quickly remembered how treacherous it could be dealing with the drow. Knowing Welverin was up to no good, Zandramaschal charged across the dimly lit room. The drow was going to stop casting and explain himself . . . that is one thing Zandramaschal was sure of. He had no doubt in his mind whatsoever that he could get to the drow before whatever spell Welverin was weaving was completed. And how wrong he was, Welverin threw a pinch of sand into the air as he concluded the spell and Zandramaschal had no escape from it.

Zandramaschal could do nothing, but the sudden weakness he was feeling from the spell?s effects took a minimal amount of fear away from him, and replaced it with anger. Like a bear caught in a trap, Zandramaschal stumbled as his arms and legs began to feel week. Zandramaschal barely felt the floor as his knees gave out and his muscular form collapsed. This was Welverin?s urgent surprise he figured, as he lay on the wooden stone floor, dazed and defenseless though he could come up with no reason for the drow?s betrayl of his trust.. ?Sorry old friend. I need a bit of you blood and this was far easier than trying to explain why and asking your permission. It will be easier to ask forgiveness when this is all said and done.? Was all Zandramaschal could make out before he felt his consciousness ebbing away. Zandramaschal?s clear and concise thoughts were coming to an end as his eyes grew heavy from the strenuous effects of the sleep spell that had been cast upon him. Zandramaschal at once, was struck with incoherence, as he lay against the floor. He was taken away by his pursuer, to exhaustion, to be dead to the world before the rest of him even knew that Welverin was walking toward him with a sharp knife in one hand and a glass vial in the other in order to collect his blood.

Less than an hour later . . .

Confused and with a severe throbbing pain at his temples, Zandramaschal awoke. He was lying on a couch and despite his blurred vision he recognized the smells and the faint images slowly coming into focus. He was back at home, in the great room of the brownstone he shared with Simone. Zandramaschal?s arms and legs were still heavy, and he was still temporarily crippled from the lingering effects of the drow?s magic. Thoughts of retaliation were already starting to flicker in his thoughts as something on the coffee table started to come into view. A piece of vellum was laying on the table?s surface covered in elegant script. Noticing his own house key lying atop the parchment, he reached out weakly to pick up the note. The metallic key clinked lightly onto the wooden table as he pulled the note closer to his face, his eyes straining to focus on the words.

It read:


Zan,

Sorry about the mystery old friend but I needed some of your vitae to track down Marisse. It will be a crucial ingredient in helping me track down that crazy wench. This needed to be done for the well being of everyone involved and I know the wound on your arm will heal quickly. You are most likely angered by my methods, but I had no time to explain to you the intricacies of my plan. Hopefully you will understand, and forgive my need for haste and deceit. If not . . . we can talk about it when this whole Marisse affair is buried once and for all.

~Welv

Furious, Zandramaschal shook his head. He and the drow would most definitely be speaking again soon about this betrayal. He whispered weakly. ?You should have asked Welv. This will not be so easily forgiven.? Glancing to his arm as he held the note in his hand, he noticed the white linen bandage wrapped tightly around his forearm, lightly sanguine stained. The sight of the bandage only added fuel to his growing anger but for now Zandramaschal felt drained and he dropped the letter back onto the table. Soon he was drifting back into a natural state of slumber, for the spell had taxed his stamina greatly.

?Deceit dispels the boredom of the Absolute.?
― Dejan Stojanovic, The Sun Watches the Sun

Slowly rising from the depths of slumber, Zan grunted and rolled over as he stretched his arms over his head. Still a bit groggy, it took a moment for Simone?s voice to register into his thoughts. When he finally opened his eyes, he stared blankly at her face. After a brief moment, coherency finally returned to his fore thoughts and his emerald eyes narrowed slightly. After slowly sitting up, Zandramaschal placed his hands along each of his temples. His head was throbbing and he felt an intense pain on both sides of his head and behind his eyes. Awareness came in a flash . . .almost in a panic. He recalled meeting Welverin but what had happened? . . . He remembered the drow weaving a spell . . . he recalled hitting the floor but how did he get home?. . . What exactly was his old acquaintance up to? So many thoughts scrambled themselves to the surface in confusion that anger was setting in and there was nothing he could do to stop it . . . no comforting words or thoughts . . . nothing reassuring came to mind. His emerald eyes brightened with an eerie glow, Zan was far from alright and was trying to control his anger as he finally met Simone?s eyes and whispered. ?I am fine, love. I am just a bit tired. How long have I been asleep??

?Ah, Cher, you have been hit with a spell of some kind. That drow did it and took some of your blood to.? She was trying to keep her own outrage out of her tone but it still bled over just a touch. For a brief moment there was that fierce glow in her azure eyes, they flashed with that banked rage but her touch against his poor throbbing head was gentle. ?I hope the ache eases up soon.?

He forced a weak smile to his lips for Simone?s sake and he glanced down to his bandaged right forearm as the events of the evening quickly started unraveling in his memory. ?I am starting to remember now. I read the bastard?s note.? Shaking his head, he started to unwrap the linen bandage. Whatever wound that had been there had almost healed leaving only the trace of a small incision on his arm. ?I am not sure what is going on, but I will definitely be finding out. Welverin has some questions to answer.? Looking to the windows, still a bit disoriented he started to stand. Zan?s knees were a bit wobbly and he felt ravished from hunger. ?What time is it anyway??

?Sometime after Nine. I just got back in after running a few errands and found you like this.? Her hand cupped his cheek gently, a light stroke of fingers followed against his feverish skin. There was only one light on in the living room and the hearth was silent. No fire there this night. ?You are certain you?re okay? Celeste is sending over some charms that will make it hard for magic to affect you like this again.?

His emerald eyes dimmed but he was definitely still irritated. Placing his hand over hers at his cheek, he simply nodded as his smile became more sincere. ?Really, I am fine Simone. I just can?t fathom why he wouldn?t just ask me. Why the deceit?? Leaning down, he placed a light kiss to the top of her scalp. ?Why do you think he wants my blood anyway??

Zandramaschal?s touch was slowly starting to calm Simone?s nerves but when he took a step towards the door she opened her eyes and stared him. ?Cher? I am not sure what the drow is up to but you really should rest. You are looking a bit weak. Where are you going?? Concern for his well-being was shining through her azure gaze as she watched him. After opening the door, a mere thought triggered the cellular manipulation in his being. It the space of a split second, Zandramaschal had transformed into a large black dire wolf. The wolf turned his head back towards Simone, staring into her eyes. A thought whispered into her mind. I will be back love. I need some air but most importantly . . . I need to hunt. Without waiting for another word, knowing she would protest to him hunting in his weakened state, the wolf leapt from the threshold out into the darkness of the night.

Simone moved to the threshold and leaned against the door frame as she watched Zandramaschal quickly disappear into the darkness. After he vanished into the night, with a light shake of her dark head, she slowly retreated into the foyer of the brownstone and closed the door.