The Lich was not overtly concerned about his disguise. Nothing could mask the air of dread and foreboding that lingered about him wherever he went, but he knew without a doubt that should disguise be imminent, he could conjure an illusion easily enough.

He gathered the folds of his black robes about him and began making his way down the mountainside to the valley below. Garthag was confident and arrogant in the extreme, but then again, most cunning potentates were not exluding himself. But he was finding Garthag's "friend" to be a bit irritating - she seemed of little use to the powerful white robe aside from the frequent jibe, so why keep her around?

He did have to lighten the hue of his robes to a nondescript gray as they neared the caravan headed towards the mountain pass. The merchant guards sighted them, wheeled their horses around, and began cantering their way. "Oy!" the lead rider shouted. "Your name and business, sirs!"

--------

Commander Sunblade pointedly cleared his throat and gestured expectantly at the portal, indicating that he go last. Apparently he trusted his transient human allies about as far as he could throw them.

Gyre ponderously dragged herself up and slithered to the portal. She glanced back at her rider, who was currently retrieving his daggers. Go ahead, he bade her. Weariness surmounting with every step, she nodded in relief and stepped through.

Tucking his blades back into his bandolier, he straightened and surveyed Merrin. She was sound asleep, curled beside the similarly dozing Wyvern - though he likely wouldn't be the happiest dragon when he woke and realized he'd fallen asleep watching over his rider. He knelt beside her and gently shook her awake.

"Merrin," he murmured, flicking an equally irascible glare over his shoulder at the scornfully impatient Commander Sunblade.

_________________

(good point...thats why she can be sacrificed...)

_________________

Made by Lembas

Merrin heard her name, faint as it was through a haze of exhaustion and fatigue, and forced herself awake. Wyvern did likewise, hastily pretending he'd never been dozing off.

It was through sheer willpower that she scrambled upright, every muscle protesting - and instantly regretted it. Not quite trusting herself to remain in said upright position without some support, she steadied herself with one hand on Wyvern's flank.

The sight of the portal, a shimmering invitation to be thrown into yet another perilous situation, inspired less than encouraging thoughts. "Where are we going?" Merrin queried anxiously of Kendath, rightly interpreting the Elven Commander's scorching glare as an indication that she should hurry up, and moving towards the portal with a sluggish Wyvern beside her.

_________________

(bumpity bump)

_________________

Made by Lembas

"I'll be cursed if I know," Kendath returned, snapping another glare at the similarly glaring Commander Sunblade. Merrin was decidedly not looking her best, but he could scarcely blame her. But Wyvern was making valiant efforts to support both himself and his rider, and together they managed to make it through the portal.

"After you," Eur'ielan Sunblade said coldly, gesturing at the shimmering gateway.

Kendath almost let escape a rueful chuckle. Despite their cataclysmic battle fought, despite their wearying journey across the hollow interplane, nothing had changed between human and elf. With a curt nod, he stepped through the portal.

He'd always found the sun to be a cursed thing, a retaliation to his own wont to remain in the shadows. Contrary to his customary imprecations, he'd never been happier to behold sunlight in his life. Dragonriders and elves were gathered on the same mountain spur, but blessed sunlight bathed the azure skies and glittered upon the fresh blanket of snow. The explosion of sound - the wind howling through the mountain passes, the caw of an eagle somewhere above their heads - came as a welcome respite to the interplane's ominous silence.

A rejuvenated Gyre bounded up to meet him, emerald eyes shining. Unable to keep the relief from their telepathic link, he placed a hand on her jade snout.

"And here we part ways," Commander Sunblade announced peremptorily, emerging from the portal. His men gathering behind him, he squarely faced the humans and evinced a respectful bow. Something flickered in his stony eyes as they passed over Merrin especially. Perhaps something had changed.

But then again, what self-righteous prig with wonderfully edifying lectures shoved down his throat didn't like Merrin?

_________________

Wyvern's sluggish form seemed almost electrified by the shimmering portal - for the instant he passed through it he was again his usual self, youthful energy coursing through his every silver scale. Some of this could hardly help being transferred to Merrin, who could face the Elven commander with a fleeting grin and bow in return, some color returning to her cheeks.

"Your help has been invaluable," she told him, straightening and tilting her head up to meet his eyes. They were still alien, but perhaps the strangeness was a little softened now. "Never let it be said of the Elves that they care only for their own race."

Wyvern rumbled his agreement, arching his slender silver neck around Merrin to regard the Commander with one liquid emerald eye. "Thanks are owed from both of us."

Merrin felt the cold wind on her face, but rather than making her shiver it flushed her cheeks pink, the healthiest appearance she'd retained in quite some time. She stood erect but Wyvern still moved to support her slender form, the pair silhouetted against the sun in an image practically embodying the eternal bond of dragon and rider.

_________________

Garthag raised his hand to a greeting and walked a few steps closer before stopping to state his matter.

"We are but travelers and any aid you can lend us to reach our goal could be most helpful..."

He spoke out with a slightly dry voice.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

The lead rider dangerously narrowed his eyes. Fortunately for the less than sincere trio, he appeared to be in a hurry for he did no more than rapidly appraise them. His gaze lingered especially on the Lich, who only stared innocently back. At length he grunted and wheeled his horse back around. "Right. We could use strong sword arms... er... magic arms..."

"The very epitome of intelligence," muttered the Lich as he gathered his robes about him and made to follow. He dropped into file at the very back of the caravan.

--------

"May the sun shine on your path ever after," the Commander bade them. To Kendath's cynical mind more by custom than heartfelt sincerity, but it was nice of him to attempt it nonetheless. Commander Eur'ielan Sunblade beckoned his men, and dropping into strategic flanking positions, they slipped down the mountainside.

It all seemed so surreal to remember that they still had a report to make. They had to retrace their steps through half a continent, relying solely upon the faith that the portal would still be awaiting them. Kendath mounted Gyre, and together the dragonrider pair lifted into the azure skies.

--------

Something was wrong.

The scorching afternoon sun baked upon the flat desolation, glinted upon bloodied breastplates and shattered swords. Though the bodies had been picked clean to the bone, the remnants of the battle still remained. The familiar stone monoliths stood upon the rise like cold sentinels, overlooking the spot upon the barren wasteland where the portal should have been.

Should have been.

"I should feel the magical emanations," Gyre opined worriedly, her emerald gaze scanning the bleak expanse. They were all jaded by the strenuous journey, but apprehension had once again heightened her senses.

"Never trust a Druid," was Kendath's snarled response. He came stalking back around the rise where he too had been probing the air for the invisible scar in time. With an angry swipe he dried the perspiration running freely down his face.

_________________

"That's not fair," protested Merrin, picking her way through the grisly remains of battle. "Anything could have happened."

She was prevented from saying much more by the thought that certain comments about traveling through time might prove difficult to explain, and wordlessly proferred her half-empty water bottle to the perspiring Kendath. "There's nothing? Not even...not even a trace?"

Wyvern interrupted from behind, shaking his head dolefully. "No, we'd feel it. There's not magic here, not for at least a mile round."

Merrin wound a strand of hair absently around her finger, squinting into the scorching sun, and glanced up anxiously at Kendath. "I suppose we'll wait, then...?"

_________________

Kendath waved off the proferred water canteen and extracted his own from the saddle bag. He experimentally shook it and judged it to last him another two hours in this heat. He emptied a little simply to wet his throat before stuffing it back with a colorful curse.

Needless to say, this wasn't one of his good days.

"Wait for what?" he fumed. "The portal's gone, not likely to return anytime soon."

Gyre nodded. "It's been gone for days at least. Perhaps since..." And here she stopped, a look of dreaded epiphany dawning. Her remaining words hung suspended in the air, and she turned to her rider with an expression of shocked despair.

"The Lost Battle?" he asked satirically.

"It would have scattered the magic of the portal," she mused. "Perhaps it can be pieced back together, but my knowledge in magic is dabbling to say the least. We need a wizard."

_________________

"Where are we going to find a wizard?" said Merrin, expression falling. She turned to tuck her waterskin back into one of Wyvern's saddlebags. "And how is he going to know where...where to send us?"

Not really expecting Kendath or Gyre to know either, and anticipating a caustically sarcastic remark in the works, she slid down to sit in the meager shade Wyvern provided and rested her head against his silver flank. Why did their every move seem to create another dilemma, another series of hoops to jump through?

"I want to go home..." she murmured into Wyvern's flank, and instantly was ashamed of herself. Wallowing in self-pity, that was. She straightened, hugging her knees to her chest, and began to debate over whether or not there might be a wizard in Baste - that wasn't too far away.

_________________

"There might be a wizard in Baste," Gyre unwittingly echoed Merrin's thoughts, to which Kendath shot her a glare that could have frozen the very sun that now pounded relentlessly upon their backs. The thought of returning to the crowded port city rather stymied his wishes to return to the tangible present as soon as physically possible.

"Or we could wait," Kendath proposed dryly.

It was Gyre's turn to glare. Really, I have no idea what I saw in you that made me agree to be your dragon.

My boundless faith and optimism perhaps.

Gyre only snorted and glanced at Merrin and Wyvern. "Finding a wizard runs the risk of... revealing ourselves." She emphatically glanced at Adanil, wondering how much the perceptive young man knew.

_________________

[Aerandir, where art thou?]

Sooner than Kendath's relentless optimism could ever have hoped, he soon found himself planted right back on the streets of Baste. The afternoon sun, not nearly as intense as the wasteland's but scorching nonetheless, scorched his head as he bumped and excused himself down the port city's central street. The rank stench of crowds of unbathed bodies mingled with fish from the marketplace baking in the sun.

How he hated summer.

One more block, Gyre reported from where she and Wyvern wheeled in the skies, dropping in among the other dragons scalding their scales off under the sun.

Kendath nodded glanced back at his companions to make certain he hadn't lost them in the throng. The Mages Guild had their own quaint little street ramifying from the market district, which was where they were headed now. Besides the fear-inspired lies fabricated by the Meiltha wizards, he knew next to nothing about this Guild. All he knew was that if he was archmage of a powerful magi circle, he'd at least install a cooling system over his private street.

The archmage in question did not disappoint him, for as soon as he turned a corner onto a side street marked by a rune-etched sign, the temperature rapidly plummeted to a comfortable breeze reminiscent of autumn evenings. Ordinarily he would have thought such comfort instigated necessity for a gate, but no such gate was needed. Fear of the Guild apparently overrode luxury, indicated by the conspicuous absence of any street commoner here to take advantage of the cool comfort.

The cobblestoned walkway stretched straight ahead, flanked by stone walls on either side. A single tower stood at the end like a gilded finger jutting towards the heavens.

_________________

Merrin chewed her lip meditatively. This could prove quite awkward, this transaction, and if it didn't work they would have needlessly given themselves away. She sped up slightly to walk beside Kendath. "I assume we're going to tell this mage, or wizard, or whoever is in there - " she indicated the tower with a jerk of her head "- everything? Or very nearly?"

Her voice was rather lowered, though if Adanil hadn't figured out something by now, he was quite a bit more dense than Merrin supposed. "He'll need to know, won't he? To send us back to the right place?"

_________________

Kendath shook his head and did his best to recall all that Gyre had lectured him on. "The portal isn't necessarily in complete dissolution," he said carefully, wishing Gyre was present. "Its magic simply isn't..." He racked his mind. His dragon had described it in a way that didn't make her look like a complete dimwit, like he happened to be doing at the moment.

"Its magic simply isn't functioning," he completed lamely. He realized upon serious contemplation that this was a precarious gamble. If he expected the wizard to piece the portal back together, who couldn't say the wizard wouldn't discover its nature in the process? Unfortunately for them, he could think of no other way. And he'd be damned if he had to spend the rest of his miserable life in this miserable time period.

_________________

"And we want him to put it back together?" queried Merrin. The answer to this was obviously in the affirmative. But it was riddled with problems - the wizard could follow them, assuming he found out the portal's magical properties. And Merrin couldn't see how he wouldn't. Or the portal could send them back to the wrong time...

"This is the only way, isn't it?" she asked soberly, searching his face. "We haven't a hope of getting back otherwise." True, she would rather risk it than be fated to forever remain in this time, but their prospects were less than encouraging.

_________________