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A Story for Lion
Another Story for Lion
Bright Day, Dark Night
Brighteyes, Sealgair, & Erdian
Choices
Erdian's Tower
Jaret's Quest: 1
Jaret's Quest: 2
Jaret's Quest: 3
Meghan and Xarroch
Meghan & Sissra
Meghan's Journey Begins
More Problems from Curiosity
Rakanor
S'ayad'i & Felis
Troubled Dreams
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They could hear Milil's temple well before
they could see it. Felis tightened his grip on S'ayad'i's shoulders and
murmured, "Don't worry, it'll be all right." She only smiled.
The sound was beautiful. It was nearly noon, so what they were hearing
was the voice of every priest of Milil, raised in song.
They walked into the temple, and the sound
threatened to overwhelm them. They stood just inside the main chapel
until the Noonsong was finished. A smaller group of priests continued
to sing, but their song was quieter. S'ayad'i indicated a chair to
Felis. "I must go from here alone. Wait here for me,
please."
Felis nodded, kissed her cheek, and sat down. She
walked toward the altar, where the high priest was completing the noon
worship ceremonies. He turned, and saw her.
"Good day, m'lady bard," he greeted her,
descending the altar stairs. She bowed to the priest, and sketched a
reverent gesture toward the altar. "I beg a word with you,"
she said softly. The priest nodded, and ushered her into a side
alcove.
S'ayad'i looked earnestly up into the priest's face.
"I must speak with my Lord Milil -- to beg his intervention in...a
matter."
The priest frowned slightly. "I know that you
were a companion of Milil's during the Times of Trouble, m'lady. He may
well answer your call. But the gods are no longer free to walk the
earth at will. There will be a price."
S'ayad'i nodded, and the ghost of a smile played
around her lips. "I know, but I have summoned no gods since the
Troubled Times, my friend. What might the price be?"
The priest considered for a moment. "For you,
m'lady? It would depend on the nature of your request, of course, but I
suspect it will have something to do with that silver-bells voice of
yours. He may demand that you join our ranks - truly, not so terrible a
cost." The priest smiled, then sobered. "Or it is possible
that he may take your voice entirely."
S'ayad'i blanched and raised a hand to her throat.
The priest continued, "Consider carefully. Is your request worth
such a price?" She did not answer immediately. Instead, she turned
to look at Felis, half-hidden by the latticework of the alcove wall. He
was watching the alcove, having seen her enter. The look of love and
concern she saw in his eyes strengthened her resolve. "Aye,"
she breathed. "Full worth any price."
"Follow me, then." The priest led her into
a smaller, private chapel, and instructed her to kneel before its
altar. He stood behind her. "I will only sing the song of
summoning," he warned. "I cannot promise that Milil will
come." She nodded wordlessly, and he began. If her voice was the
chiming of silver bells, then his was the warmth of a cello, deep and
soothing. She wondered idly what they would sound like as a duet, and
then relaxed into the song.
A long time later -- minutes? hours? -- the room was
filled with the echo of a song, and the voice that sang was more
beautiful than anything earthly. S'ayad'i's eyes filled with tears as
she recognized the voice. "My Lord," she whispered, not
daring to look up at the altar. There was a rush of wind, and Milil
answered, "S'ayad'i. I have not forgotten thee. Come to
me."
She stood and walked to the altar, where Milil stood. He
saw her silver tiara with its green jewel, smiled, and reached to touch
the gem. "Thou still wearest this trinket?" His touch was
like the passing of a breeze, and S'ayad'i wondered if the god longed
for the Troubled Times to return, when he could roam the Realms in an
earthly body. Milil looked across the room at the high priest, who
waited in quiet reverence. "Thou hast done well. Leave us
now." The priest bowed very low, then left, quietly closing the
door. Milil turned back to S'ayad'i.
"Now, little bard, what is it?"
S'ayad'i took a deep breath. "I need to talk to a
soul. An elf -- from the Void."
Milil frowned. "Thou hadst told me that thou could
often talk to thy husband in thy dreams, bard. Has so much
changed?"
"Not D'nath, my Lord. Another man. The one
who..." She could not finish the sentence, but there was no need.
Milil knew the story of her life, better, perhaps, than she did.
Milil leaned back against the altar. "Perhaps thou
hadst better start at the beginning."
S'ayad'i nodded. "Aye, my Lord. The elf who, on my
mother's word that I was a trained whore-child, nearly destroyed my
soul and body, was actually in'a'alla."
"Discovered that, finally?"
"You knew?"
"Oh, yes. Thou wast my Companion." The god did
not explain further, merely waited for S'ayad'i to resume her tale.
"Obviously, he knew not what he did! My Lord, I have
discovered a memory that has been buried... I had thought that I ran
away that night, though I thought it somewhat strange that such a thing
would affect me so deeply, raised as I was. But I believe now that I
stayed, until... The next day, he returned, offered me his life."
Tears spilled down her cheeks with the raw pain of the newly-recovered
memory.
Sternly, Milil interjected, "As is only proper for an
in'a'alla so dishonored."
"But I did not know! I refused him! And he killed
himself at my feet -- died honorless, forever to wander the
Void..."
She looked up at Milil carefully. "My Lord, if I can
speak with his shade, I think I may persuade him to accept my
forgiveness -- I may put his soul to rest. If - if I can do that, then
I think my own soul may heal." She halted, not sure what plea
might move the god.
Milil considered her carefully. "Thou knowest that
there is a price, for my action in this," he said. She nodded
wordlessly. "What makes thee need healing so desperately now,
little bard?"
"Love, my Lord. I have found love again. And yet the
fear..." She looked helplessly up at the god who was once her
companion.
Milil smiled at that. "I had hoped, bardling, that
you would allow your heart to open again. What price art thou willing
to pay, then?"
"What price is love, my Lord? Any price you require,
I shall pay."
"All right. Thou shalt have thy wish, and we shall
discuss the price when thou art done. I shall put thee into a trance,
and carry thy shade to speak with the shade of this in'a'alla. What is
his name?"
"In'a'Lain, my Lord."
Milil opened his mouth, and the song he sang was so
intricately beautiful that S'ayad'i at once lost herself in it.
And then all was darkness.
S'ayad'i opened her eyes to see nothing. Grey mist
surrounded her in all directions. Then, suddenly before her, was
In'a'Lain. In one hundred and forty years, not a detail of his face had
faded in her memory. She felt surprisingly calm, serene. She looked
into his eyes with no show of emotion.
He, obviously, remembered her as well, although his
reaction was much more violent. "Child... My lady... Your face has
followed me into death! I stumble across the Void, and everywhere I see
your face... Why do you trouble me now? I have rid the world of my
presence -- why do you inflict me upon yourself again?"
S'ayad'i knew that neither the horror she had felt at his
death or the pity beneath it would serve her purpose. The in'a'alla must
be obeyed, or commanded.
"Be quiet, In'a'Lain. I have come to redeem your
honor."
In'a'Lain bowed his head in shame and grief.
"Nothing may do that now, my lady. You would not kill me then, and
I am already dead."
"In'a'alla, listen to me. I have come to offer you a
chance of forgiveness. I will set you a task, in'a'alla. You will
suffer for me as I have suffered for you. When your task is complete,
then honor will be satisfied." Despite years of training as a
bard, S'ayad'i found it difficult to school her expression to show no
emotion. However, if In'a'Lain saw her feelings, he would suspect that
the task she set him would be too easy, and he would refuse it.
The elf's face showed both hope and despair, but he did
not speak, nor look at her.
"In'a'Lain, I married an elf many years ago, and
because of you, I could not consummate my marriage." In'a'Lain
flinched at her cold tone. "My husband died, In'a'Lain. He died
unburied, unmourned. His shade waits in the Void for me to lead him
Home." Still In'a'Lain said nothing, but S'ayad'i could tell that
he was listening intently.
"Your task, In'a'Lain: You will find him here in the
Void, though it take you another hundred years. You will confess to him
who and what you are. And you will place yourself in his service, until
I come to take him Home. When I do, he and I shall judge your service,
and decide whether you have earned forgiveness."
Now the elf looked at her, hope winning out over despair
in his eyes. S'ayad'i continued coldly. "He died with as much
honor as any in'a'alla -- he went knowingly into the Void to protect my
life, and the lives of our comrades. He will be a worthy master for
you."
In'a'Lain nodded shortly. "It will satisfy
honor," he agreed.
"May I know his name, or is that, too, part of my task?"
"His name is D'nath. He was a mercenary. And when
you find him..." Finally the barrier of ice around her emotions
broke, and tears filled her eyes, "...when you find him,
In'a'Lain, tell him that his wife misses him very much."
In'a'Lain bowed low before her, and faded into the grey
mist, leaving S'ayad'i alone. She glanced around. "My Lord? My
Lord Milil?" she called softly.
Milil was there suddenly. "Well done, bardling. Art
thou ready to return?"
She wiped the tears from her face. "Aye, my Lord.
Let us return, and I will pay your price."
...and she opened her eyes to see the small chapel still
around her, the slant of light on the floor hardly changed. Milil still
leaned against the altar looking like nothing so much as a cocky young
bard, beautiful in face and form, dressed in antiquated clothes.
S'ayad'i said nothing for a long moment, considering
herself. She mentally poked at the injured place within herself, and
was surprised to discover that it was already starting to heal. She
nearly sobbed in relief. Milil wordlessly laid a hand on her shoulder,
and she touched it gently, looking up at him.
"I'm all right now, my Lord... I will gladly pay the
price."
Milil considered her carefully. "Thy voice," he
said.
S'ayad'i nodded, resigned. She had hoped, but...
"Of course," the god continued, "I'll not
keep it long, mayhap a month, but I'd like to have that silver voice of
thine singing from the height of my temple for a while..."
She looked up at him in disbelief. "You won't? I mean...
I..."
Milil smiled. "Just agree, little bard."
"Of course, my Lord, I agree..."
Milil reached out and touched the gem on her tiara
bemusedly. "When it comes back, thou will probably be hoarse for
some few days, but it should not be anything for thee to worry
about." He straightened and turned toward the altar.
"Thank you, my Lord," S'ayad'i said -- or tried
to say. No sound emerged from her throat, and she bowed her head
instead as Milil faded away.
She turned and walked back toward the main chapel. Almost
there, she encountered the high priest. "Your voice echoes from
the rafters, m'lady," he told her. "Your friend is looking
rather worried. I thought you should know."
S'ayad'i nodded. "I take it things went well?"
the priest asked. She smiled at him and nodded again. He stood aside to
let her pass.
She entered the chapel to see Felis still sitting in his
chair, but looking around worriedly, gripping the arms of his chair so
tightly that his knuckles were white. She heard the echoes of her
voice, and smiled, then stepped out to where he could see her.
Relief flooded his face, and he nearly ran to meet her.
"What happened? Why-" he gestured toward the ceiling, then
stopped. "Are you all right?"
She smiled affectionately, raised up on her toes, and
kissed his cheek. She touched her throat with one hand and then
gestured toward the sound of her voice with the same hand.
Felis understood. "Forever?" he asked
incredulously, pulling her closer protectively. She shook her head and
held up a hand to forestall any more questions. She freed herself from
his embrace, then deliberately took his arm and led him out of the
building, walking close by his side and leaning her head on his
shoulder.
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