April 5, 2002

She wore her fatigue as a thick and heavy cloak draped over her mind. It helped protect her from the terror threatening to overwhelm her. And when the fatigue was not enough to stop her from thinking about the events of the last few months, she turned to anger. The incandescent flame of rage burned away any shreds of panic that managed to break through the dull layers of sleeplessness.

Betrayal. Betrayal at every turn. Betrayed by Asheron, who brought her to this strange land. Betrayed by Thorsten as his lifespark vanished on the end of that demons pincer. And now betrayed by Nuhmudira, next to Asheron her closest advisor.

Her land was under siege. Elemental attacks rising. New and powerful golems appearing in the Direlands. New enemy fortifications. And now, the time when she needed sage counsel the most, she was alone. Asheron had been gone for the last few weeks. He had been disappearing more and more recently. Thorsten was gone forever. And Nuhmudira. . .

She had completely vanished. Elysa had trouble believing the rumors Jaleh had passed to her about Nuhmudira. No, her rage would not allow her to harbor any illusion. She did not want to believe the rumors. But that had nothing to do with the truth. Oh, Nuhmudira, what have you done?

Could she trust no one? Even Borelean, her pride and joy (my son, the monster tried to kill my son. I will see you dead, Martine. I will scatter your ashes to the four corners of the world. . .), was too young to help. She could not rely on even him.

The storm that Nuhmudira had warned her about so many months ago had come. It could soon rage in full force. And in what shape was Elysa to meet the challenge? Exhausted. Furious. Alone. She thought back to an earlier time, a time of nightmares and blood. There, deep in the dank stinking lair of the Olthoi Queen, she had seen her compatriots and love slaughtered by a loathsome monstrosity. She remembered the brutal hammering force of grief and despair, and the bright shining rage that, for that moment, cleansed the despair from her soul. As she had drawn back the arrow that pierced the glistening, faceted insectoid orb straight through to its abominable brain, she had felt nothing but a calm, soothing vengeance.

Standing in her stone chambers, dust dancing through sunlit air, that feeling once more washed through her. Exhaustion and rage were both replaced by a cool sense of. . . anticipation. Deep within her mind, she was readying her arrows, sharp and deadly. When a guard rushed in to inform her of the latest events, he was surprised to see her smiling.

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"Kai," Nuhmudiras voice cracked as she raised it above the whistling wind. Her red hair and dark skin showed in harsh opposition to the snow-capped mountain they climbed. "How much further?"

Kai, wearing the green leathers of a peasant, turned to his master and pointed to a clearing. There a large head rested, its maw gaping wide, beckoning them to enter.

"The library lies within, Master." He turned and entered.

Nuhmudira pulled her robes more tightly about her. Ibn Rabs blood still strengthened her body, but the chill was enough to make the strongest of people shiver. A warm glow shone within the head, and the soft purple glow of one of the many portals could be seen at the foot of a flight of stairs that lead into an Empyrean foyer. Her reward for teaching this upstart was close, so close.

She followed Kai inside.