Shayla's lips quirked in a smile at Graysith's "command," then she sobered, turning towards the warship's navboard once more, one of her long and slender fingers reaching for a lone sigil. With ease, she pushed it and leaned back, the smile returned to her face as she felt the comforting feeling of a ship spreading her wings into the vastness of hyperspace. As stars stretched out into starlines, Shayla let her greeny-blue eyes follow them, savoring this one simple moment of enjoyment. Behind her she was certain she heard Jasyn Lancaster mutter something about hating space travel...

...and she let her lip qurk up a bit more at that before she sobered entirely, for a moment was indeed all she had to spare in such enjoyment. She closed her eyes, trying to stay in the moment just a little bit longer...

...when the flash of the image of a Sith returned in her mind's eye in an almost haunting manner. She frowned as something in that vision finally became clear enough to catch her attention.

"The Sith in my vision..." she stated quietly, a frown still upon her face, "He has the mark of the Sorcerors..."

[ 01-12-2004 11:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

“Remember that whoever it is we are dealing with here, he is a Master when it comes to manipulating not only one’s physical form, but one’s mind as well. It stands to reason then that this one would belong to the clan of the Sorcerers if he would belong to any at all; Shayla—“

She straightened in her seat, craned her head over her shoulder to give Phalomir a knowing look, then returned her focus on her adept.

“Remember as well that this one could come from any time period. Witness our companion here—“

Again she trailed, this time to gesture toward the Sith Lord who remained in silence, apparently contemplating on what Shayla had said.

“Try to remember clearly. Did this one bear the mark of the Ruling Clan? Did he bear the Tattoo of Entitlement to that clan? And—and—“

Now an uncomfortable look crossed her face, and she bit her lip. Her mouth dropped open and worked non-speaking for a moment, as if she couldn’t quite determine exactly how to say what she wished. At length she pressed her lips together, then simply blurted out:

“The one we are dealing with is not only a Master at Deception, but of time, as I said. Try to remember what this mysterious visitor in your dreams looked like; could he perhaps, if not being Lord Aelvedaar himself, have been his son?”

She fell silent at that, sending another worried gaze toward Phalomir before returning her eyes to Shayla once again. Somewhere behind her came a muted snort, and the gentle clink of glass.

It would appear that the onboard Sith brandy had been discovered—

--------------------

"It is the tatoo of Entitlement," she stated in a whisper, her eyes still vague as her recollection grew ever the slightest. "And the Sith...

...he has twin horns spiraling from each side of his head..."

Shayla trailed and frowned as her own growing description of this mystery Sith seemed remiscent of yet another one she knew...

...one who bore the Tattoo of Entitlement to the Sorceror's Clan.

"The Sith could very well be Lord Aelvedaar's son," Shayla stated aloud then, her frown only growing, "And after all, I don't think Aelvedaar ever truly liked me being around..."

She trailed again as memories came into focus, memories of never being quite certain whether he felt she fit in as Graysith's adept, memories of him stripping her All-usage more than once, memories of him refusing to help her unborn son in any way back when Loban Kenobi had blasted him with unseen evil...

"...but even if the Sith in my vision is Aeylmaar, that's only the beginning of the puzzles which need to be solved in order to ascertain if this has any link to things which are going on now. Is this vision real or is it a ruse? And if it is real...

...just what may have been the purpose of the visit that day...

...and was that purpose achieved?"

She quieted completely at that, shivering a bit as this unknown grew more and more troubling...

[ 01-15-2004 09:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

But not now.

Her head jerked over her shoulder then as she shifted in her seat, now pinning those brilliant violet eyes upon Phalomir with a hard look. One which asked a million unvoiced questions, but questions seeking answers nevertheless.

[ 01-16-2004 12:04 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

... analytical. No matter what she tried, she just couldn't get a clear enough image of that Sith...

...and that realization brought back something which she had spoken to Phalomir not so long ago, before Graysith had entered the ship. And Shayla was keenly aware that time was pressing...

...and that it could be quite some time before she could make out the Sith beckoning to her clearly. She turned to Graysith, whose eyes were yet boring into Phalomir's. Suddenly she felt an urgency to know the truth, not only for herself but for reasons of the mission at hand.

"If you looked into my mind, perhaps we could ascertain who this mystery Sith is together," she said hopefully, her words belying the urgency she was feeling as she then fell into silence, her eyes never leaving Graysith as she then waited for her reply.

--------------------

"This is something with which you need assistance in ascertaining?" she asked quietly.

"Did you not meet Ayelmaar upon your arrival at Khar Delba, when we all traveled there after the Sith had been brought back into glorious life?

"Indeed, I thought you had...

"...or is it that you cannot discern what is within your own memories?"

Once again she trailed, this time to cast an increasingly worried look at Phalomir. For if this unknown could so muddle the mind of a Force user, what could he do if given the opportunity to wreak his havoc upon the known populations of the Galaxy?

If indeed that was his long-term intention.

[ 01-16-2004 04:35 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

She trailed, her eyes once more turning vague as she searched into her heart of hearts, using Force-intuition to seek out any warning flags concerning the authenticity of the memory.

There were none.

"...it's real...

...I can feel it."

--------------------

The soul… could it transcend timelines? Was he damned to non-existence now that he had unnaturally traversed the bounds of time? Would S’slan allow him entry into the afterworld?

Father had spiral horns…

Still staring into the Dark Lady’s eyes, he raised the bottle of brandy and drank deeply from it. He longed for the soothing effects the strong liquor would bring, but knew it would not come no matter how deeply he imbibed.

But father was not of that name…

He placed the cork back upon bottle and let it fall from his hand. It dropped upon floor with small clunk and rolled backwards under the seat. It came to rest at the feet of Jason Lancaster, who smiled serendipitously.

But his father was…

“My lady,” Phalomir croaked, his voice sounding weary and course. “There is something I must tell you…”

He let the words percolate in his mind for a moment. No matter how he tried to arrange them, they sounded the same.

“This Aeylmaar… may have been a relative…”

[ 01-16-2004 09:50 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

--------------------

She was the Chosen One of Lord Aelvedaar… SHE Hadn’t he told her that, once seemingly eons ago? Hadn’t he promised… then to revoke, to further beguile and betray them all.

And for what?

Suddenly, despite all the plots and schemes and insidious and careful laying of plans, the control of a small empire didn’t seem quite the answer to the shadow she felt was looming over them all. Her thoughts went to Thoran, the mysterious insinuations and innuendoes put forth by the one he called Master, and what Lord Phalomir had revealed about his past connections, the mention of coming darkness, of others…

Others. That ship, that terrible, awful ship, fa,r far away in the black velvet which filled the space between galaxies; how well she remembered it. Ripping through the fabric of spacetime, there to save a young girl and a tiny infant from--

Her eyes widened more, fear not for herself, but suddenly for all the known populations flung throughout the Galaxy, filling them, fever-bright.

“Our enemy is more formidable than it would appear, and I fear his final designs are nothing less than the complete control of the Galaxy.”

The words invoked the silence of the tomb, a silence that she finally broke with first a great and shuddering exhalation of breath…

…followed by a quick but carefully detailed explanation of what facts she knew:

The coming of the Vong.

Her sudden conviction that Aelvedaar was connected to them somehow, perhaps through Ayelmaar…

…as well as her solid belief in what he was planning to do.

A great pang ripped through her heart then; she forced it down and away with a gulp.

If only she hadn’t brought Aelvedaar forth from his death, that day three years ago in the bowels of Darth Wicked’s home in the Temple on Khar Delba.

If only….

--------------------

The Vong. The ones who had killed her parents...

She shuddered involuntarily. Although she was too young at the time to remember the sordid details of the Yuuzhan Vong and their ruthless attacks on the galaxy for herself, she definitely had a personal perspective on the matter. Far too personal.

"We have to stop them," she whispered as a chill ripped through her, icing the blood in her veins. "They'll destroy us. They'll destroy us all...

...just like they destroyed my parents..."

--------------------

Phalomir thought back into his memories, suddenly wishing for the bottle he had dropped.

“The Others… They came at a time when we were not prepared. I failed.”

He looked about him, the stares from the others boring into him. He returned focus upon Jharmeen. His eyes locked with hers, and his voice lapsed into a quiet, course whisper.

“I will not lose you to them again.”

--------------------

To-- them?

Graysith straightened in her seat, blinking as a sudden thought struck her.

“Phal- Lord Phalomir,” she began, trying her best to keep a steadiness in her voice although that was in direct opposition to the growing wildness of her rapidly beating heart. She grunted a bit, concentrating on regaining her composure; at length she settled in the seat, running her hands over her cloak as if to smooth away non-existent wrinkles.

“How is it that you could lose me, when—“

She paused, stared more deeply into his eyes, read the pain there, forced away another uprushing pang of—

Of what. Hurt for his sake? Guilt for what she would say?

Something other…?

Another miniscule wrinkle flattened beneath her touch, and she continued on as if she had only paused for speculation.

“How is it that you could lose me, when indeed you do not… have me.”

Not as you would wish, at least—

She went on, her expression unruffled, her demeanor apparently calm, her heart pounding like storm surf in her breast, her hands iced.

“If this is not so, then perhaps the coming events of which you speak shall not occur either. Perhaps there will be no failure, not here, not now. For are we not forewarned? Is this not being forearmed?”

She fell silent then, letting her face fall then to study her lap, all the while her mind was racing with a ferocity matched only by her stampeding heart.

--------------------

Phalomir felt a stab within his chest.

For when one has an undying love, it tends to… not die…

“You may be correct,” he said, straightening. “Thinking back on something Thoran told me, apparently I was sent here to cause the death of someone and then at the right moment die myself. I failed. Whatever events my death was to bring about shall not occur, at least not in the way the Master anticipated.”

He leaned back in the seat and looked to the bulkhead above him.

“One of the last things I remember from my previous… existence… was the Vong invasion. The Sith were being decimated. I was to meet with their commander to discuss terms, but I never made it. I do not know why… what was his name?”

Phalomir struggled for the word, but it stayed just past his grasp.

“Ab- Adda- something…”

--------------------

So, at least in his particular future and past, the Vong had killed Graysith...

She shuddered as the thought brought both despair and anger.

...but had they not already nearly lost Graysith to the Yuuzhan Vong once before...?

Shayla bit her lip, frowning. Indeed they had, only she had stepped in as Graysith's replacement. Shayla could recall how she was surprised that they had gotten away with this so flawlessly. In fact, the Yuuzhan Vong never once discovered the switch...

...instead there was only that evil creature, the one who impersonated Darth Wicked. Shayla frowned even further at this.

Aelvedaar had quite easily switched her for Graysith...

...and he was supposed to have immediately retrieved her after the switch. Only...

...he hadn't. And he hadn't even done so when that evil creature came to her. Why...

...why had it all been so flawless until that moment? Why had she been left behind for any amount of time...

...unless, perhaps, there was some relationship between Aelvedaar and the Vong as Graysith had mentioned. And indeed, how had Lord Aelvedaar known the Vong well enough to find them the many lightyears away that they had to have been...

Shayla jerked herself into reality, momentarily glancing to the navboard to ascertain that they would be arriving at their destination shortly. Then she turned to Graysith and the others, gathering her wits about herself enough to voice her thoughts aloud...

...all of them.

[ 01-17-2004 10:34 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

That’s not what you believed on Dagobah, is it now….

She shook away the non sequiteur and let her thoughts rove on a little bit longer, now recalling with crystal clarity her soaring wonder and joy when she had suddenly found herself back with her Sire, only to find it had been at Shayla’s expense.

Her throat tightened, then she swallowed again before finally speaking aloud.

“The Yuuzhan Vong are on their way to this galaxy,” she admitted aloud what all present had by now deduced, or had already known.

“There is a—a dark one who is with them, one as dark as any Darth—“

Oh my Dark Heart, I pray you have finally found peace….

“—but he is not one I have ever known. I did not catch his name, but I met him when… during my brief visit to their ship.”

Unable to help it, she winced, and wrapped her arms around herself for a moment. Then she gathered her composure and continued.

“This one was humanoid, with skin like snow and hair of silver, and his eyes were of chrome and electric blue. He was not Vong, but I had the clear impression that he had them utterly submissive to him, which says a lot for his strength and powers. I was with him once….”

Another pause, an even heavier swallow.

“…and I willed myself to die before I would have to face him again. If this is the one whom you were to meet, Lord Phalomir, then you are lucky indeed to have missed him. For I have the distinct impression that all those who do run across his path, die.”

Now she turned her eyes to Shayla.

“We were incredibly lucky,” she whispered. “And you don’t know how sorry I am that we couldn’t get to you as quickly as we would have liked—“

Realizing what she had just said, she quickly stopped, biting her lip.

“As quickly as I would have liked,” she amended, thinking back to that far-away day.

A sudden toss of her head and her rising trepidations were sent flying. Before their eyes, she transformed from the vulnerable prize of Abaddonis and back to the Dark Lady of the Warrior clan.

“Shayla, you raise a legitimate point,” she allowed. “With all that has been revealed and then deduced from the information we have gleaned, I cannot help but believe that Thoran’s master, the mystery Sith of your visions, is indeed Lord Aelvedaar’s Chosen Son. I may be incorrect in this, but—“

It was Phalomir’s turn to be the recipient of her gaze.

“Tell us everything you know, all of it,” she commanded, somehow making herself larger and more regal in the utterance of that request.

“We need to make a plan of—of attack, if need be; we need to clarify what we are to do after we rescue Galen and retrieve Shayla’s husband and your friend.”

[ 01-17-2004 11:06 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

...and nervously at that. Then they flicked down to the bottle of brandy which Phalomir had dropped. Though he was trying to avoid the desire to drink, this sudden news was making it rather difficult. Looking up from the dropped bottle then, he spoke up.

"Hold it, hold it..." he started out, an obvious edge of anxiousness filling his voice, "If Lord Aelvedaar had ties with the Vong...

...then why the kriffing hell would he have ever needed to hold an alliance with anyone from Eagle Enterprises?"

He fell silent, one damning answer presenting itself.

By making an alliance with EE, Aelvedaar had Galen right in his hands since he was able to convince Terrin that his desire was to protect her from Roan. After all, Galen trusted Terrin. And if Terrin, as careful and distrusting a guy as he was, could be convinced that the Sith were going to protect her...

...Aelvedaar had to have known she would be more likely to believe it. But then, with his powers Aelvedaar could have had Galen easily enough without ever convincing Terrin of anything...

...or could he have?

Jasyn voiced as much aloud with an entirely disturbed frown on his features. Then he added, "Could Aelvedaar have been plotting to use Galen for something himself...

...something of which none of us were aware...

...or was he really just keeping her hidden away so that Roan couldn't get to her? I know it's always been Roan who has been after her...

...but it appears now that Aelvedaar's M.O. is to use with convincing deceit, so I have to wonder just what he might have truly been up to..."

Jasyn trailed, glancing down to the brandy bottle once more. With all the things that were suddenly cropping up as possibilities, it was looking more and more inviting...

[ 01-17-2004 11:38 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Jasyn Lancaster ]

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“My father was Aeylyn, Dark Lord of the Sorcerers. His father before him was Aeylmaar—my grandfather. I never met him; he had disappeared long before I was of an age to know. I was told that my grandfather vanished shortly after my birth, and my father ascended to the Dark Lordship.”

Phalomir strained to remember more. He recalled the store of information that he had purposefully hidden from himself, and felt sure that he was pulling from that area now.

“My father was cruel, as cruel as Lord Aeylmaar before him. But he built a powerful legacy for the sorcerers. But he relied too heavily on the All and not enough on Sith magick. This must have led to some sort of imbalance in the triad, and when I was old enough to begin my own apprenticeship into Sith government, I learned of dark dealings with beings and races. The triad was in dire straights. It was then I was taken to the Dark Canyon…”

A memory flashed into his mind even as the shudders of fear began. He quickly composed himself and sat forward.

“It was once a beautiful valley, I was told. A place of great importance to the Sith. I do not know what happened.”

He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, his elbows upon his knees.

“I was made Dark Lord of the Sorcerers at an early age. There was none other to take the position, and none who wanted it. I recall hunting down the weak links, rooting out the traitors to the Sith, and soon the houses of many powerful nobles had fallen. The triad was rebuilt with trustworthy, dedicated Dark Lords, and it was decided then that the Sith would re-establish its ties with the galaxy. It was then I met y-- it was then I met the human woman I would ask to share my life.”

He again allowed his eyes to close.

“Many years of peace and prosperity followed. The Sith were strong, I had re-introduced the power of Sith magick, and the triad was solid. Then we were approached by a race… a powerful race… the triad was to meet… I could not attend, and the others were… it was a ruse, they were killed. The Vong, they approached us in friendship and then invaded. In an emergency, the councils moved to establish me as the Dark Lord of the triad. I… it was a mistake, I am sure. I can not recall how this was done, but I am certain it involved the Dark Canyon, and the… the valley?”

He opened his eyes and looked directly into Jharmeen’s.

“We tried to fight them. But even with Sith magick, we could not hold them. Thinking of it now, for it was inconceivable then, they must have use of the All behind them somehow. The Sith fleet was ruined, and I was to meet with Abadonnis – yes, that was his name – WE were to meet with him, for you would not leave my side. It is difficult to remember, but our shuttle was attacked and boarded…”

A flash of memory ripped through Phalomir, followed by a sharp pain through his midsection. He struggled to speak, but his voice was frozen. He grasped desperately at the link he shared with the Dark Lady, sending the visions before him to her.

He looks down at the shining, bloody spike protruding from his chest. He lockes his hands around it, trying to find the strength to pry himself from it. He looks to his Lady, struggling in the arms of the strange being, horror engraved on her face. A voice from behind hisses into his ear. “And now, at last, I have her.” Darkness. Quiet. As memory and thought fade, another voice. “But you, my son, have another purpose.”

Phalomir’s eyes widened then rolled backwards, flashing a bright white against the red of his face. He slumped backwards into his seat, motionless.

[ 01-17-2004 11:56 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

--------------------

Some strangeness was afoot. And the only way to find out...

Putting any concerns aside other than the one she had for Phalomir's wellbeing, Shayla lifted both hands to his forehead and let them lay atop it, closing her eyes as she did so. Stretching out into the Force then, she pulled upon it's healing powers, the very action coming quite easily and quite naturally to her. In moments she was then channeling those energies directly to the motionless Phalomir...

--------------------

Agonizing...

Graysith gasped to both the physical as well as visual impact of that terrible sight, one hand lancing out to stab hold of the navigation board, the other flailing to find purchase somewhere, anywhere.

This was awful, unbearable, there was something in that spike, some vile poison….

Gobbets of saliva drooled unstoppable from her mouth, her muscles clenched and cramped in synch with her stomach, lava boiled her blood and fried her mucus membranes, heat flooded through her as would an electric current given in execution of some common criminal. Then that blazing pain dissolved in incandescent fear as a somehow familiar voice hissed from the blackness behind her,

”And now, at last, I have her…”

“No.”

The whimper came out of her mouth upon cat’s feet, barely rippling the air in its making. Her flailing hands came into contact with something, she didn’t know what; her fingers closed convulsively and dug in for dear life, seeking to hang on to that apparent lifeline to another, better, reality.

She gasped again, and this time managed to swallow; on the heels of that swallow came rapid little flicks of her tongue, as it reached out, seeking to transfer dripping moisture to her suddenly dry lips. Slowly her head lifted, and eyes which felt like hot stones in her head once more beheld that terrible, terrible scene.

”Oh my husband, you cannot die….”

From somewhere very far away a little bit of logic tried to rear up and point out the incongruity of that statement, but was ignored. The pain was too great, too encompassing, too unendurable.

She let out another nondescript little cry then, letting go of whatever it was she was grasping to now grasp either side of her head, all awareness of the others completely overwhelmed by what was travelling across the link still maintained with the Phalomir.

[ 01-18-2004 09:57 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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...anything, for support. Her hand fell clammy and cold upon Shayla's arm in a death's grip, and Shayla went to her knees beside Graysith. Even as she stretched out into her sister's mind a horrible scene played itself out in her mind's eye.

"And now, at last, I have her..."

Shayla squeezed her eyes closed at this, shaking her head in utter refusal to let anything of the sort happen. For well did she know the origin of the spike...

No, no, it would not happen again to another person that she loved. She would not lose another person to them. No.

Stretching out with the Force strength which had been bestowed upon her then, Shayla laid a hand atop Graysith's fevered brow, unaware that an alarmed Matt Stanza had come from behind to support the Dark Lady while Jasyn Lancaster went about seeing if he could revive Phalomir in his own subtle manner. All else mattered not. Pouring all the comfort and Force-healing into Graysith that she could, Shayla remained unmoving, eyes still closed, unwilling to leave Graysith's side.

And indeed, how could this strangeness be reality, and how could a vision cause such pain and agony?

He did not have her. No...

[ 01-18-2004 09:59 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shayla Stargazer Petrolu ]

--------------------

Springing to his feet, he turned to Matt, who was rushing to the fallen Graysith with a shocked Shayla by her side. Jasyn frowned darkly, surveying the scene as if trying to figure out just what to do...

...when his eyes fell upon the slightly stirring Phalomir.

Hey, maybe he knows what the kriffing hell is going on here...

With no more thought than that, Jasyn went over and simply shook the Dark Lord in his seat, trying to bring him completely back into reality.

"Come on, come on!" he exclaimed, still shaking Phalomir, "I'm just a techie with a strong love for liquor, and we don't know what the kriffing hell is going on here! Come on, snap out of it!"

--------------------

“You shall not have her,” Phalomir growled through clenched teeth. “Kill me as many times as you wish, you shall not have her.”

Jasyn gagged as his air supply was cut. Phalomir raised his arm, lifting Jasyn off the floor.

“My legacy lies elsewhere, father,” he growled out. “Do not use me to chase your ghosts…”

A whimper escaped Jasyn’s lips. Awareness slowly came back into Phalomir’s eyes, and he released his hold upon Jasyn, who fell on his knees into a coughing fit. Phalomir’s frantic eyes moved from the recovering Jasyn to the form of Jharmeen, who sat motionless next to Shayla and Matt.

He quickly crawled to the Dark Lady and cradled her in his arms, brushing Matt away gently. He cut a look to Matt and Shayla in apology, then returned focus upon Jharmeen. Concern overtook his face, and he struggled briefly for a solution. He closed his eyes, held her head closely to his own, and reached inwardly for the link he still held with her, sending his own conscienceness along that line.

Hear me, find me. Come with me, my lady, rejoin me in life...

[ 01-18-2004 10:29 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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Kriffing hell. A guy tries to help another one and gets himself strangled half to death.

For a few moments longer he remained on his knees, his hands still massaging his throat. About that time his eyes fell on the brandy bottle which Phalomir had dropped...

...and he couldn't resist the urge any longer.

Hey, maybe that'll make your throat feel better. Sure as kriffing hell couldn't make it feel any worse, a shoulder-devil pointed out.

Reaching out with one hand at that thought, Jasyn gripped the brandy bottle, turning it bottom-up as he let a good amount of the liquid roll down his throat, warming it. Turning the bottle right-side up again at that, Jasyn took a deep breath...

...and coughed and sputtered even more.

Awww, hell...

Falling against the bulkhead of the ship, Jasyn shook his head, stil coughing. He gave the brandy bottle one final upturn, this time more slowly and delibrately. Lowering it once again then, he took a much more careful breath and was thankful to discover that he was finally able to do so with out coughing quite so much. He gave the half-empty brandy bottle one final longing look...

...and abandoned it on the floor altogether, crawling over to where Matt was standing, his eyes falling upon the strange scene before them and darkening.

Whatever the hell was going on, he sure hoped it wasn't indicative of how this entire trip was going to progress...

[ 01-18-2004 10:42 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Jasyn Lancaster ]

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Slowly, softly, there came a quiet creeping, like a mountain stream’s cool waters that gurgle merrily over its rocky bed. Those cool waters brought surcease to the fires raging upon that inner battlefield; bit by bit they lessened, shrank, altered in color, becoming less of a brilliant white and more of a dull orange, finally dwindling down through the reds of lesser fury and into the cindery black of death.

Another gasp ripped from Graysith’s lips, the Glyph ravening upward and outward even as the blaze within her cooled beneath Shayla’s ministrations as it stretched outward for sustenance to further strengthen her soul.

It caught onto something, wrapped about it with the determination of a dianoga capturing its prey, and hung on for dear life, pulling that something inward with inexorable insistence. The Dark Lady needed sustenance, the All would provide it.

Warmth flooded her then, a different kind of warmth. This was not the raging inferno of poisoned and dying flesh, bur rather the soft whisper of sunlight against one’s cheek. As if a caress, it tickled her heart, leaped joyfully along the All-link, carrying upon its back something… something…

Something endearing. Something welcomed. Something missing returned.

Something.

Slowly her eyes fluttered, opened, the violet in them hazed by the experience. She blinked them again, blearily, and struggled a bit trying to find balance with reality, to bring that reality into focus.

Dark haziness swirled about her like chocolate, whirling and coalescing and lightening and altering and finally condensing into a brilliant and verdant green something.

Two brilliant and verdant green somethings…

Recinis-? No….

“Phalomir? You—you live,” she whispered in confusion as, blinking once more to clear her eyesight, she then resigned herself to simply laying as she was in his arms.

--------------------

He closed his eyes again, and pressed his cheek against hers.

“And nothing shall take you away from me again.”

He moved his head slightly, aligning his mouth with hers. A well of emotion, love which transcended years both past and future, sprouted into his mind and flowed from him as he placed upon her a kiss.

--------------------