The black-haired woman gazed at him shrewdly, blue eyes mildly amused at some hidden jest. "Perhaps you think us imprudent," she remarked. "Though perhaps your opinion would change had you lived in Vryngard these past weeks. You cannot know the welcome change to this dreary spirit a banquet will bring."

Thorone had to agree, though he too had mixed feelings about celebrating so readily. "But aye, we will discuss matters, be assured of that." He hesitated. "If you so desire, I have no - pressing - engagements in these next few hours, and though we will not be at liberty to call together the Council for a full discussion of matters until tomorrow, I would hear this news of yours."

-------

Merrin could feel the aura of excitement coursing through Vryngard, like a dormant river suddenly brought to life again by spring rains. After seeing Kendath safely off to guest accomodations, she'd parted company with Je'id - curse those emerald eyes! - and wondered again why his sudden interest in her. Though how could she complain? Older riders than her were carelessly shunted aside by him.

Thinking ruefully that though a banquet would mean a much-needed lifting of Vryngard's spirits, it meant a full evening and already she was weary, Merrin gazed down on the expansive courtyard from her balcony. The balcony intself was a cunningly executed affair, with the capability to instantly become part of the mountain wall should any attack mount on the city. Down below Wyvern was happily reunited with friends and others of his clutch and would be predictably carefree until matters again became grave, as Merrin was sure they would. Even with the druids' help, the Meiltha were no small force.

Sighing, she turned to make herself presentable for the banquet as the sun grew lower in the azure sky. The likelihood of being ignored by many of the other riders, even after having returned from a long absence, was high, and she wondered vaguely why she bothered. As one older woman, echoed by her ebony dragon, had once caustically commented shortly after Merrin's ascension to dragonrider - "She's pretty enough if nobody else is present to compare her to."

Little did Merrin know, as she stood in front of the mirror dressed in a little floating wisp of pale dress, that this evening would be different by far from others spent as a shy wallflower.

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Half an hour until the banquet. Two hours and thirty minutes wasted on alternating shifts of pacing and dozing. To go or not to go... that was the question... After agonizing moments of debating it over, he'd decided that he had to make an appearance if he was to be accepted.

But what in the abyss did one do to prepare for banquets anyway?

Kendath halted his pacing and looked himself over. Same old... black leather... dark cloak... He wondered if the Renegades would let him wear his falchion to the event, for ceremonial purposes of course...

Cursing, he scanned his room. It was a humble bedchamber, small but functional. He spotted a wardrobe tucked into a corner and stalked over to it. The wardrobe was empty save for a buttoned down white tunic and a clean trousers. To rub salt to the wound, an azure cape had been draped over the clothes.

Very amusing, Commander Thorone...

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Merrin was scrutinizing herself critically in the now-lamplit room - the sun had all but disappeared. For lack of anything else to do, she'd let her chestnut hair fall down around her shoulders, where it tended to curls in an undecided sort of way. The white slip of a dress had been thrown off half a dozen times only to be taken up again in indecision, and now it fell in shimmering folds around her petite frame.

With a sigh, Merrin took one last look at herself. She knew from experience that the moment she entered the crowded banquet hall myriad women would far surpass her in looks.

Extinguishing two hanging lamps Merrin moved to the door. Halfway down the hall she heard her name, in a voice of scrutiny satisfied - and turning a pair of viridescent eyes met her own. Inexplicably the evening began to look as though it might not be quite as typical as Merrin had imagined.

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To Kendath's extreme unease, the grand hall was already packed. Dignitaries and warriors in iridescent hues moved about the vaulted, chandelier-lit hall. Upon a dais at one end stood a resplendent table reserved for the nobles. An impossibly long table, decked in gold-trimmed velvet and sporting a myriad of exotic foods and wines, dominated the hall's center. Mellifluous music drifted out from another chamber ramifying from the grand hall, where dancing couples twirled on the marble floor.

For Kendath's part, he'd never attended anything like this before. His falchion still hung from his belt, but he felt vulnerable without his assortment of daggers and his leather armor. He moved surreptitiously to a shadowed corner behind an exotic potted plant.

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Had Merrin been aware of Kendath's unease she likely would have sympathized. But at the moment her attention was entirely occupied - to a point where such was her bewildered distraction that she found herself saying what perhaps should have remained kept a secret.

The usual profusion of dazzlingly beautiful young ladies had not failed to make an appearance, and Merrin did not fail to think them far above her in every aspect. But the usual sting of this was tempered by the fact that for the past hour at the very least Je'id had not left her side and now, dancing with him, she was painfully and acutely aware of his closeness and his hands about her waist.

When the spirited dance had ended Merrin found herself seated, Je'id having gone off for something. She had failed to notice what - a drink or food or some such. She pressed her hands to her cheeks, which she was sure were burning crimson.

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Despite his antisocial air, Kendath found himself famished. He glanced both ways to be certain no eyes were riveted on him, before making a dash-yet-not-so-much-of-a-dash towards the food table. As he walked by, he glimpsed something in the corner of his eye that struck him as familiar...

Merrin?

An instant later he was spinning around to get a second look at her. It was Merrin all right, but nothing at all like the Merrin he was accustomed to seeing. Her bronze hair - unblemished by the fatigues of the road - fell in soft waves down her back. Her shimmering alabaster dress caught the candlelight, making her stand out like a pearl among the other myriad of colors.

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Hands playing with a fold of the dress she was so unaccustomed to, Merrin felt eyes on her and looked up expecting a returning Je'id, a bashful smile playing uncertainly around her lips - but instead they were Kendath's. Feeling unexpectedly relieved, Merrin grinned a little apologetically at him from her seat, taking in his markedly different style of dress in due turn.

Too far away to speak, she was almost considering navigating the crowds of people to talk to him. But just then Je'id returned, and presented her with a crystal goblet of some unnamed crimson substance. "Are you comfortable?" he inquired, perhaps taking her flushed cheeks for heat - though likely he knew exactly what they were. A twinkle of amusement showed in those eyes - amusement Merrin was not altogether certain she liked. "Come, we'll go out on the balcony."

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A throng of people passed before him just then, obscuring his vision a split second after he glimpsed the disliked Renegade - Je'id? - returning. Shaking his head and mentally tearing himself apart for ever arriving at this banquet in the first place, he poured himself a glass of wine.

When he looked back up, another pair of familiar eyes met his gaze. But these were not Merrin's.

He really had no intention of going over to speak with the benign old Druid at the moment. But Sage's next movement - a small wave of his hand ensued by an expectant look - dashed Kendath's hopes of avoiding the collision. Deciding he had nothing better to do, he began wading through the crowds towards the high dais.

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Quietly Garthag gazed at the scripts before him, many held information of the crystals and had been the corner stone of Garthag`s efforts. Yet upon his work he was afraid that he might come across a suspision that had creeped into his mind like a thief in the night. If he was able to use the crystal for destructive purposes, but so could the other be used and it`s where abouts were unknown.

He could begin the spell and take his time completing it, but then he could very well risk the fact that someone else held the other crystal and would use it against Garthag. The results? Either the two crystals would break each others or they would break the world into pieces, Garthag`s thoughts wandered off to call upon Kalma.

We need to make safe the other crystal, otherwise our whole plan can be ruined by the renegade or someone else, the rest of the Meiltha perhaps...

And what would you wish me to do about it, only the gods themselves held the locations of the crystals besides some clues and I have no intention of going after the crystal....

Then you must spy upon the Meiltha and the Renegades in order to learn of their movements

Kalma snarled loudly and opened his eyes, he noticed that Demon was gone, but did not give much attention to it. He spread his wings and basicly yawned, which sounded more of a growl. The white dragon moved it`s massive body to the entrance and gazed at the rest of their allies.

"Come, I have use of you"

He urged them.

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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!

"Which is what exactly?" asked Semri distrustfully. "We may be you're allies but will not sacrifice our lives like some soldir." Evlyn simply stood up, one arm draped for support over Jemx's back.

(i need Evlyn and Jemx to escape, either to return to the Miltha, or to be captured by the Renagades.)

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Made by Lembas

((Just so you know, Curunir, Garthag will be....informed of the location of the Star Crystal in comparitively short order (I'm trying to be vague here I do have a plan) but if you like, Anduril, Evlyn and Jemx could be taken by a Renegade patrol, I guess))

Fingers resting lightly on Je'id's brocade arm, Merrin followed him with an air of resignation out to the mostly unoccupied balcony. It was refreshing, to feel the chill breeze on her face and bare arms after enduring the stifling press of crowds, but somehow Merrin could not relax.

"The - the stars are lovely," she ventured, with a sideways glance.

"They are indeed," he replied, and came to lean on the railing beside her. "I'll wager they are not so lovely anywhere but home."

This struck Merrin as ironic, that he would think she had any time to be star-gazing where she had been. "I confess I did not notice," she admitted without looking at him. A mistake. Had she glanced up the warning intensity of those green eyes, belied by his casual expression, might have put her on her guard. "One does not tend to think of these things in less than peaceful times."

"Aye. Or perhaps you had no need to look at the stars when in possession of a certain Crystal."

This again perplexed Merrin. How different things seemed to be through his eyes. "I have had but a glimpse of it," she said with a shrug.

A raised eyebrow. "So the tales I've heard of your heroics are fabrication, then?"

Thinking him to be teasing Merrin turned, half-laughing. "Indeed, I had very little to do with it." Somehow the warning signals failed to register. Perhaps they were disabled by the very charm Je'id exuded.

"Then perhaps tales should be told of your friend - what did you call him? Kendath - instead. He must be very skilled, to penetrate the Meiltha lair and escape in one piece, and a Crystal to boot. Though..." and his voice became low, "perhaps he had advantages you do not?"

In mid-nod Merrin sprang away from his ever-closer form, put suddenly on her guard. "What do you mean?" she demanded, realizing suddenly they were out of sight of most of the dancing couples inside. That could not mean anything, though - could it?

"Why, I only wonder if he had inside assistance, as it were. And whether the Guard should be alerted that there is a dedicated Meiltha named Kendath, whom I am sure is a masterful pretender at loyalty."

Not good. Merrin determined to cut straight to the heart of the matter, disgusted at the way he had maneuvered her. "The Council..." she began, and trailed off. The Council did not trust him, and if Je'id assured them, even if he lied blatantly, that Kendath was not loyal to the Renegades, they would believe him. "Well, I trust him, then." This was pitiful assurance, as she'd proven herself woefully naive.

"Prove it to me, then. Tell me what he's done to be so trustworthy." He demanded in turn, moving closer.

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(OOOOOOOO i see you're plan...hhehehehehehe, and yes thankyou, when we go somewhere with Garthag, he and semri should try and stop her escapeing but ultimately let her go, then she gets captured, thankies)

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Made by Lembas

You are... dragonkin... the voice murmured.

Startled, Demon flexed his wings. A hostile rumble escaped him as he scanned the surrounding valley. A chill wind whistled through the mountain pass, stirring the glistening snow and bleak stone. The entire valley possessed a wistful sense, as if plagued by the hauntings of a past long gone.

I am... dragonkin...

Demon fairly leaped into the air at that. Crouched and wary, he growled, "Who goes there?"

In response, the wind whipped around ever faster, swirling into a cynosure. And in the center of the cyclone...

He was surreal, evanescent as the eldritch wind that bore him. He rose up from the cyclone, wings melting into the surrounding air, eyes glowing like twin voids. Those eyes of oblivion stared at Demon, stared straight through Demon.

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

"You have turned, I see." Sage stroked his beard and regarded Kendath with bland curiousity. "What coerced you to once more see the light?"

"I couldn't resist the bribe."

The geriatric Druid only chuckled. "You are impatient. Youth always are. Therefore, I shall get directly to the point." He paused, as if mulling the words over. At length he spoke quietly, "Merrin is blessed by the gods, make no mistake. She is about to undertake a perilous journey across the world... and across the rifts of time. Will you accompany her?"

"For all the good I'd do."

Sage cocked his head and stared at Kendath hard. "Why are you so embittered by the mistakes of the past? Your choices were your own. Your merging with the darkness was a choice fraught of vengeance and blindness. But your worthiness is now yours to prove." He raised a silver eyebrow. "And if you worry about your currently empty reputation as dragonrider, I shall have one arranged if all goes well."

"My thanks," Kendath replied with a curt bow. The way the Druid's seemingly omniscient eyes bored holes right through him unnerved him more than a bit. "Nice talking." With that, he spun around and descended back down the dais.

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"No." Merrin's jaw was set stubbornly, arms folded. Je'id was close enough that she had to tip her head far up to look him coolly - or she hoped it was cool enough to bely her inward uncertainty. "There is no call for his loyalty to be debated anywhere outside the Council. If you are doubtful, Commander Thorone has far more say in the matter than I."

"Ah," Je'id practically purred after outwaiting her stonily delivered reply. "But Thorone has not the firsthand experience, has he? And I am very curious."

Shadowed where they were in the curve of the balcony as it wound about the mountain face, he blocked Merrin's path back to the brightly lit ballroom. Her mind raced. If she continued to refuse, he would likely do nothing - but she could not be sure. And perhaps if she told him the very littlest of things, the most insignificant...no, that felt wrong.

Je'id sensed her resolve. "You know as well as any that my family has for generations been of pure Renegade blood," he began, shifting casually but still holding her brown eyes with his own. "We are among the most trusted by the council. If I were to perhaps casually mention stories that we have heard of this Kendath...tales to chill even the blood of the nobility that is the Council..."

"That's blackmail!" interposed Merrin indignantly, so shocked by this sudden threat that she took a step backward as if recoiling.

"Why, so it is," he said, feigning mild surprise. "Though I could promise you no such tales would pass my lips..."

"You would..." Merrin trailed off and whirled away, stalking to the edge of the balcony. A thousand curses upon those green eyes! she thought irritably. I've no choice but to tell him...he's loyal, and if I can secure his promise not to use his considerable influence upon the Council...

"Fine," she spat, turning to regard him.

"Sheath your claws, little cat, I merely have a powerful sense of curiousity." He leaned casually on the railing beside her, eyebrows raised in expectation.

Merrin glared, and in an even tone outlined the events from their failed attempt to acquire the Cloud Crystal to their arrival in Vryngard. She hoped desperately he would not ask for more, but oddly enough he seemed satisfied.

"Lovely. You have my word no mention of this Kendath will pass my lips to the Council. And where is this -"

But Merrin had swept past him, chin held high. "I'm cold," she delivered icily, turning at the doorway and silhouetted by the lights, as what she hoped very much was a cutting parting statement.

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A perilous journey across the world... and across the rifts of time.

Kendath's thoughts whirled as he stepped off the dais. What in the abyss had the old lunatic meant? And indeed, if Merrin were to undertake such a journey, was he to accompany her? Especially if... A new dragon. He sneered in contempt. Not for his benefit, but for the Renegades simply to keep an eye on him.

He caught sight of a familiar figure in a shimmering white dress silhouetted by the balcony. Did she know? Blessed by the gods, Sage had called her. Wondering, he started over towards her.

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Merrin was currently completely occupied with mentally calling herself every derogatory name that sprang readily to mind. You absolute blithering idiot, to think anything had changed, she berated herself bitterly. To think that maybe there was no hidden purpose behind his interest. Oh, how utterly stupid. She would not call herself naive, she would not.

All this rushed in a torrent of thought through Merrin's head as she stood, a lone figure against the ebony backdrop of night outside, working very hard to keep her expression neutral. To have to explain any scowl or grimace she might display would only speed the total demise of this already failing evening.

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