Nervously, hurriedly, she excused herself and whispered the words that would take her home. Sure enough, there was a figure standing upon her roof. She made her way inside and up the flights of stairs. Emerging onto the roof, she saw him. Standing naturally to his full height, the wind blowing his wisps of grey hair behind him. She paused, just looking at him in silence. He stood there for a few long moments before turning around to face her.

Ahh, Sunveil. His skin was grey - the shade of a corpse's. He looked very much dead, yet he moved like any living man. The one thing he lacked, and the very thing that made him the most disturbing, were his eyes. The sockets, where a normal man's eyes would be were hollow. The only thing to be seen in their depths were Khellenduras' crimson pinpoints of light.

"I had a feeling you were here.."

He stepped forward, giving her a gruesome smile. I am glad you came... He stood to his full height, towering over her. She took a breath to steady herself. You have done well. The spell you provided me works almost flawlessly He pushed up his sleeves and looked over his arms, then turned and walked to the edge of roof.

"...almost?"

His form shook in irritation and anger. He leaned on the low wall. He took a long deep breath, which apparently was no longer necessary to his dead flesh, and let the air escape. He turned back to face her. She met his gaze steadily. Little more could disturb her. Frighten, yes... disturb, no... He walked over to her once more, pulling off his gloves. An odd looking ring on his finger caught her eye for a moment.
Look at me. Feel me
And before she could respond, he grabbed her arm. His skin was cold and clammy. Lifeless. Dead. He released her arm.

Fear was furthest from her mind this night. She'd heard what had happened to the child Rayne. Euol she could accept... but a child? Never. "You are dead what did you expect? You want a living body again?" She snapped at him, and realizing her mistake, flinched in regret.

His brow furrowed for only an instant, then his face twisted in anger, and without hesitation he backhanded her with the hand wearing the ring. He screamed at her through his nearly lifeless lips, I want to live! A full corpse is still a corpse, elf! I am as I was before. More flesh and tendon, yet the same.

She held her cheek, standing up straight before his anger. She refused to grovel before him. He turned away in disgust, and she allowed herself to blink back tears of pain. In a harsh whisper, she asks, "Do you honestly think you deserve more?"

He looked at the ring, adjusted it. Myra almost thought she saw him caressing the ring. Noting her staring, he put his glove back on.
I asked for eternal life when I made my bargain with the dark forces. When I sealed my pact with my rituals. He clenched his fists. I used my knowledge to keep me from dying. His face twisted in anger again. I did not ask to die forever!

Myra whispered again, "The dark forces are fickle and cruel." She regarded him calmly. She hated him. She hated herself. But, she knew that she had to finish what she started, in one fashion or another. And groveling to him was not going to get her anywhere.

He turned to stare at her. Slowly he walked to where she stood and looked down at her calmly, speaking softly, Aye, cruel things they are indeed. The comment held a tone that made it clear it was a threat.

She looked at him sadly and nodded - she understood exactly what he meant. He stared at her for a few moments longer. And his next question caught her a little off guard. Tell me what came of your meeting with the Council. He turned to the forest, listening.

Myra shifted a bit. She had only written a letter to the Council, not actually have met with them. Shaking it off, she gave him an answer she thought he'd like to hear. "They had nothing to say to me. I have learned that at a meeting in my absence, they have deemed me untrustworthy. And some question my sanity. They have also held a voted upon branding me N'tel'quess."

He turned his head, not enough for her to see the smirk that came to his face at hearing of her Company's wariness of her. The smirk turned to a smile at the elven word.

"And so I've been studying abroad. I have not heard from Mord'sythe since he sent me the book I gave you." She finished, matter of factly.

Studying what, might I ask? His tone was clearly untrusting.

"...dark forces" she replied simply, hoping he would not press his questions further.

He paused for a moment, then spoke again. Myra, if you cross me...

At his words, Myra felt anger well within her. If she crossed him! Indeed! "What will you do? Kill me? Torture me for eternity?" she interjected.

...a fate worse than that of both Euol and the child will become of you. Remember my promise from before...

Her loved ones he had said. Those closest to her. She would not the the one who suffered death at his hands if she should cross him, but those she cared for. A whirlwind of faces passed her mind's eye. Quietly she replied, "I remember. And I will not cross you"

Good. I will not kill you Sunveil... He moved on from the topic, The night I claimed Euol, I noticed a face I have not seen for what seems like an eternity. Owen Simeon. Prince of the fallen kingdom of Lumiere. How often is he about these parts?

Myra was uncertain where this questioning would lead, so she guarded her words carefully. "It has been some time since I saw him before that night. He is a rare visitor..."

He nodded once, thinking. That is... odd

"Why... is that?"

He is old chylde. That is all. I would have hoped time to claim him before now.

He put his hand to his chin in thought. Myra watched him carefully. What was it about Owen that would make him wish he were dead? Myra wondered... He turned his glance to Myra. What did he say upon my leaving?

Myra pressed past his question for a moment, asking one of her own. "Do you fear him? He spoke of phylacteries, whatever those are..." She hoped he would not pick up on her feigned ignorance. She knew it would simply be best if he thought she knew little more than she already had revealed.

He twitched slightly at the word 'phylactery' and rubbed at the hand that bore the ring. Myra took note of his movement with very small nod.

... fear? I fear little, Sunveil. The words came out almost hesitantly. Fear is an irrational sensation. A sensation that is destroyed when one passes from the realm of the living...

"Fear is a survival mechanism," she replied to him with a somewhat amused smile, seeing for the first time what she took as some discomfort in the lich's manner.

He turned to look over the forest again. Intelligence, cunning, planning.... These are the things I survive upon, Forest-chylde. These are the ONLY things I survive upon... He ran a hand over the glove that concealed the ring he wore.

"Then maybe we should all leard to do as you do." Myra said offhandedly, trying to keep the mocking out of her tone. Thankfully, he ignored or didn't hear her. There was a long silence.

You will survive what transpires if you continue to aid me, Myra...

"But there are some things far worse than death.... Living can often be the worst form of punishment..."

He stared over the forest, almost like a king. After all has transpired, and my goals are completed.... You may do as you wish. If death be your desire at the time, I will grant it.

"...I will have nothing when you are done.... But I think you've known that."

He nodded once. You will have your life. Little else. I know that. He turned to her and noticed the pendant hanging about her neck. Walking to her, he motioned to it.

What is this....?

She lifted a hand to touch it. "Strongbow gave it to me..." She shook her head at a thought.

He lifted a hand to inspect it. The instant he touched it, his glove began to smoulder. With an angered cry, he let it drop about her neck again. Interested at the effect of the pendant on the lich, she pursed her lips, closing a hand over the pendant, and watched him.

He looked at the singed glove. The pendant had not burned through. He hissed one word... Strongbow...

Myra suddenly frowns. If the lich turned his ire upon Strongbow... She did not doubt the priest could handle himself well, but she still feared for his safety.

Khellenduras noted her expression. What is your involvement with the priest...?

"He is..." She frowned again. "He is my priest" she said simply.

His face twisted in anger again. He bowed his head and clenched his fists.

"You wish to know everything?" She snaps at him. "I loved him, once." Then she shrugs. Khellenduras turned his back to her. "Now he is... just a priest." She tried to fill her words with as much near-disgust as she could, hoping to throw Khellenduras' attention elsewhere.

Finally he spoke, his words full of angst and anger. Break your ties with him. And the pendant you wear.... be rid of it.

She tightened her grip on the pendant. "Very well."

He nodded, unclenching his fists. If it is still with you when I see you again.... there will be consequences.

Without thinking, Myra asked, "Such as?"

He turned back to her, angry at her questioning back at him. There will be consequences! He yelled at her.

She simply frowned at him. "I have little else to lose."

As he whispered the words of power, she could hear his parting words... We shall see about that...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Myra hurried back to the Glade. She had told Sinjun she would meet her at the Silver Arrow when what she had to do was done. And now she had been left by an angry Khellenduras. There was no telling what he might to in response to her impertinence this evening. She appeared outside Glor's shop. Vivian and Garrick seemed in good spirits, so she didn't trouble them. Next she stopped inside the Smithy, having heard some metal being pounded inside. RZ was at the forge. He smiled and greeted her. Myra briefly told him to be careful and keep a wary eye out for Khellenduras. Then she hurried to the Silver Arrow.

Afraid Khellenduras might already be there, she flung open the door and quickly scanned the room for any strange faces. There was one, but he did not bear an aura like Khellenduras'. She relaxed. Ainuyr and a worried Sinjun directed her to a seat. They chatted a little. Myra was tense. The subject was the lich, and she did not like speaking openly of the part she played in the matter. Guilt had been tearing at her since hearing of the death of the child, Rayne.

Glancing out the window, she noticed Thrand, Brisid, Morion, and a few others standing in a circle talking. Curiosity drove at her, and so she finally turned to Ainuyr. "Have you had proper introductions to everyone out there?" she nodded towards the group out the window. He had not, so she used this opportunity to slip outside. Even if she could not catch what they were speaking of, maybe her presence could quell the insatiable curiosity that plagued her. Introductions were made 'round, and Q'wellen and NyteFrost joined the group. Pleasantries were exchanged and Q'wellen, Thrand, and Brisid excused themselves to a private talk in the back room of the Silver Arrow, inviting Quay along later.

Myra returned to her barstool with Ainuyr. She felt a little bad using him to have a reason to go outside, but she would make it up to him later. Owen showed up. As did Strongbow. She could not meet Strongbow's gaze no matter how she tried. She told Owen of Khel's comments of him. And finally she told Strongbow she needed to speak to him in private. He gated her to his private home. She had heard it existed, but didn't know just where, as she had never gone to see it. Once inside, she pulled off the pendant and held it in her hands.

The talk was a hard one. She told him of her encounter with Khellenduras and what he had demanded. And she begged him to take the pendant back. She didn't want to simply discard it, but she could not keep it for fear of what the lich might do if she still possessed it when next they met. He refused to take it, pointing out that Mord'sythe had not even made her appear so weak willed. Slowly she stood up and placed the pendant on the table next to him. He insisted again and again that she take it. Finally she gave in and took it. She needed to think. Strongbow offered to gate her to the Temple, so she could reflect and hope to fill the hollow feeling that permeated her.

Sitting and meditating upon the symbol of Corellon in her hands, she was joined by Brisid, Thrand, and Q'wellen. Nervously she glanced around at all of them. Then the topic was brought up. Khellenduras, of course. At first, Thrand did most of the speaking, but the effort to stay quiet was obviously wearing on Q'wellen. Finally he began questioning her. She almost felt the need to defend herself. He asked her questions as if she were the lich's partner or friend. Morchella joined them for a time, listening. She was ready to help dispatch the threat to the Glade. When the talk had simmered down, Thrand offered to let Myra rest at his house. Taken a bit aback at his suggestion, she told him that she rarely rested these days as it was. She didn't tell him it was due to nightmares and fear though. He pointed out that now would be a good time to have some rest, in light of her lack of it recently. She agreed.

Thrand and Myra made their way through the Glade to Thrand's house. Except for the small brigand ambush along the way, all was well. Thrand brought her inside and directed her upstairs to the bedroom. She thanked him and as he turned to go out onto the balcony... "Thrand... I'm sorry."
He paused and regarded her (in only the way Thrand can do :P). "Don't be. Everyone walks the path they were meant to. You walk this one because you need to, for whatever reason. For yourself."
She smiled a bit. His words managed to bring some comfort where others had failed. She thanked him again. He nodded, "If you need me, I'll be out on the balcony." She nodded and watched him go out onto the balcony, pulling the door closed behind him.

She turned and surveyed the room. Three books sat on a desk by the window. She sat at the desk, glancing at the bed. She didn't feel right curling up there. She didn't think Cori'd be too keen on that either. Settling onto the stool, she absently flipped through the books. Between them was a missive in Strongbow's handwriting. It was apparently a private report he made to the Council on the subject of Mord'sythe... and even herself. She shrugged and folded her arms across the top of the pile of books. That was done with. Resting her head on her arms, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.