Evlyn sat in her cell. They had removed her chains, and a guard was no longer needed. They could tell that from her face, if anyone had been able to look into her eyes for more than a moment before swiftly leaveing. The Meiltha that had smothered her emotions and had sworn to destory all Renagades was gone.
All that was left was a shell. Her eyes held nothing but a dim fatalistic light, looking straight ahead seeing nothing.

_________________

Made by Lembas

More or less contemplating the meaning of life, Kendath nearly made it to the dungeon stairs when he heard a voice beside him. Pompous Renegade knight. Precisely what he needed. All he needed was one day of everyone simply leaving him alone....

His head throbbed, though from his injury or a concussion he didn't remember receiving he couldn't decide. What was it that healer had said? Skin burning...? Perhaps he even had a fever. Just his luck. At least the pain in his abdomen had abated, leaving a shadow of what it had been. The healers here knew their craft.

He didn't feel like answering the question. Nor could he remember the man's name no matter how hard he tried, which truly wasn't very hard. Exalted... descendent of some ancient house... or was that the other one?

"Shouldn't you be on the battlements?" he asked by way of greeting. Small wonder he had many friends.

-----

This was the hope of the Renegades, the "chosen of the gods"?

Studying her now, noticing her insecurity, her despairing air, High General Ironlegs wasn't impressed in the least. In fact he was disappointed. He'd never harbored profound opinions in the gods, but he'd expected better nonetheless. She was a girl! A chit, barely into womanhood! His scaled tail lashed in agitation. He almost expected some Renegade ploy to catch him unawares. Roughly he seized her chin with fingers reminiscent of talons. She stiffened and uttered a small gasp, but he forced her eyes to meet his.

Even he was taken aback by what he saw.

Her eyes were a penetrating blue, clear cobalt in her dirt-streaked face. Their facade was all innocence, but beneath that thin veneer swam something deeper. Poignant grief. Genuine fear. And a shocking wisdom to match that of the gods.

Beginning to understand at last, Ironlegs released her. One of the High General's hallmarks was his own shrewd gumption. He was always in control, always confident of his own abilities. But he never underestimated. Respect he offered freely. This woman, no more a mere girl than himself, was fully deserving of that respect.

"Do you know who I am, Merrin Dragonrider?"

-----

From that small exchange alone, she found herself deluged with a cataract of images and emotions. Vengeance and exhaustion foremost among them. A hungering ambition lingering beneath the surface.

She saw the source of it all. All the rage, all the rancor swirled around a single image. She reached for it and instantly felt the deathly cold, freezing to the touch. She saw, in her mind's eye, a tall figure, mantled in black. She smiled, for she knew this figure all too well.

She ignored the first question - not that his provincial mind could grasp the answer anyway - but dove happily into the second. "You seek vengeance, Garthag. Against whom, I wonder?"

_________________

Garthag hmhed as this stranger was not willing to reveal her identity, but could not have expected any less and laid on his back, relaxed physically perhaps, but not mentally. This person might as well be an enemy only seeking information, but then again he might as well tell whom he sought to destroy.

A certain lich, a traitorous lich obviously, I never really liked him during our uneasy alliance. A rotting corpse with a soul bound to it, unable to feel true living emotions, hollow, not too admirable. What`s it to you?

Garthag continued to inquire in return.

_________________

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!

Evlyn's head cocked like a dogs when it hears a sound, but even that alert movement was almost inhuman, the eyes remaining unfocused. She knew that voice, memorises slowly swirled from deep within her, untill a picture of a man stood behind her. Kendreth. The look of fatealism increased, yet a certain life, however unneveing, had entered into her posture.

_________________

Made by Lembas

Merrin recoiled in shock, hardly able to tear her eyes away when he released her. Her own heartbeat was loud in her ears. She involuntarily stepped back, trying not to shrink from this - this - what was he? It? Half-dragon, half-man he seemed, towering over her in the confines of the tent. Did she know who he was? Did she even know what he was?

She swallowed, and once and for all thrust away debilitating fear. Some emissary of the gods she was if she could not keep herself from cowering in terror. Merrin thrust her chin up. "No," she said. Her voice didn't tremble that she could hear. "I don't."

Those eyes were more than a little disconcerting. It took an effort to force herself to meet them rather than shying away to stare down at her bound hands or looking in dismay at the peculiarities of this strange meld of reptile and man. Merrin let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and that was unsteady.

_________________

[you keep spelling my char's name wrong btw ]

Kendath descended the steps and was a bit irritated when the man - Valten, he finally remembered the name - followed him down. Perhaps the Exalted really did want to ask him something. In any case, Valten could wait.

Torchlight flickered on the walls as he stepped by the cells. A few prisoners remained defiant, screaming threats as he passed, though most simply looked uninterested. It was nonetheless a far cry from the Meiltha dungeons and adjacent torture chambers.

Then he saw her. He almost didn't recognize her, broken and dejected as she was. She still had the cloak he'd thrown her so long ago, though it lay in a heap in the opposite corner of the cell. He'd steeled himself for this moment, but now he knew. Nothing could steel him from the sudden flood of his past incarnate.

"Evlyn," he said steadily, calling her from her misty haze.

-----

The Renegade had some courage, Ironlegs had to give her that. He keenly recalled the terror in her eyes, but she was making valiant efforts to mask it. A comforting notion - at least the gods weren't that asinine as to send a complete imbecile.

"High General," he introduced himself. Not boasting, but rather stating it as a fact. His voice was sonorous, authoritative, but bore a faint rasp like a lizard's. "The might of the Meiltha legions is behind me. I could order you killed with a single word, tortured with another. My mages can probe into your mind, find the ones dearest in your heart. Do you have a family, Merrin? Do you imagine that they are safe from me? Where is your dragon? You are helpless from my wrath." He paused, studying her face. "Are you frightened?"

-----

She could have laughed. Of course, she'd known the answer all along. Toying with the minds of mortals was a most devious form of entertainment. What was the Lich to her? Everything. Everything she hated. The only thing she feared.

"A simple nuisance, nothing more. He was my slave to begin with. I could crush him between my fingers. He has waxed a bit... defiant for his own good. You want him destroyed, vanquished from this multiplane. So do I."

_________________

Garthag chuckled to himself, this person whoever she was intrigued him, the lich had been her servant? Now he had become a rebellious servant and gone rogue apparently, displeasing this former master with whom Garthag was have a chat with. So, if she was powerful enough to once control a lich then what was she? A mage of great power? Another lich? No, both options seemed possible, but not right. Garthag grasped in on the offering she had left and at the same time grasped the current thing driving him on, vengeance.

Sounds like you and I have a common nuisance, if so an alliance for the time being would sound logical would it not. After the lich has been disposed of and I have received my powers back, we both go our own ways. Sounds fair, no?

Garthag continued the thought or offering she had first planted out.

_________________

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!

Was she frightened?! Gods, yes, terrified out of her mind! Merrin clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached. "My dragon is dead," she said. Horrible, the finality of that statement, but Merrin could not weep for Wyvern now. Merrin Dragonrider. Cruel irony, that. "And aye, my family is safe! The gods protect their own!"

Her own vehemence surprised her but before Merrin caught herself she was furious, as if fear had turned to anger and was fueled by his words. "Do you think that if they had not planned it I would even be here? Do you think to control my fate - " she broke off, panting, voice trembling violently now. Merrin didn't have the force of will to stop it. "The gods control my fate. If I die here it is because they foretold it, not because you gave the order!"

Merrin found herself clenching her fists so hard they hurt. Her injured wrist was sending jolts of agony up her arm. She swallowed. Her next words were on her lips. I'm terrified.

Shame swept through her. After all she'd said, was she still so afraid? Still so gut-wrenchingly terrified of what she knew the gods controlled? But it was true. "Aye," she said bitterly, voice falling to near a whisper. "Aye, I'm frightened."

_________________

Evlyn's eyes darted with thier old alertness and focused apon him. "Kendath, it is a long time since we spoke." Her voice was echoing and hollow.

_________________

Made by Lembas

Kendath glanced at Valten. The Renegade had better not interfere. Come to think of it, he should have gotten rid of him before he ever entered the dungeons. It could just be him, but he suspected that an unauthorized pact with a Meiltha prisoner would not sit well with the Renegade council.

Know her? Oh, yes. All too well.

Kendath grasped a bar of the cell. Evlyn looked wan, gaunt almost. It occurred to him that he should have brought food. It also occurred to him that he should begin with a tactful greeting. Too late now. He hadn't all the time in the world, in any case.

"Evlyn. I need your High Meiltha ring." He nodded at the ruby ring she still wore around her finger.

-----

Like an arbiter, the High General leveled his unnerving stare at her for a long while. His eyes were molten gold, their pupils black slits. His gaze shifted to the ropes cutting into her wrists and ankles. With frightening speed he spun around to face his men. "Have we no hospitality? Release her! She comes with me."

The daunted soldiers, Alfryn among them, fell over themselves to cut Merrin's ropes. When she was at last free, Ironlegs gestured for her to rise and follow him. He led them through the camp, towards his private command tent. "I hear you had quite the adventure, Mistress Dragonrider," he said conversationally. His gait was long and graceful, difficult for the average man to keep up.

-----

Alliance? Alliance? To this slug! She would have felt insulted, if she hadn't remembered these mortals' natural propensity for arrogance. A few choice words came to mind. I could roast you alive with a thought, land-crawling filth. I could rip out your entrails and feed you to the carrion birds. Fair? Nothing is fair in life. I will enslave you, filth, until my use for you has ended.

She let none of this pass through their mental link. She could have said it. She prudently decided not to. Best let him believe he had some vestige of free will. Mortals liked that illusion. Besides, she really did need him. She couldn't directly poke her hand into events, not so early in the game. She did not interfere. Thus she needed a vassal. A tool to execute her work for her. Who knows? If he would win her favor, perhaps she may even grant him a taste of the power he so obviously craved.

And so she whispered into his waiting mind, "Of course, my mageling. Of course..."

_________________

Why thank you whomever you are and as it is obvious that you are one of great power, I might inquire one thing, why me? There are many Meiltha mages around, why not whisper your words into their minds?

Garthag thanked with a cunning smile on his face, neither of them obviously granted each other their trust or confidence, but this seemed like an alliance of convenience. Garthag would have to see how far he could tread upon this path for the last time he had suffered greatly and could now only hope to dodge another defeat that might possibly be his end. End, such a negative and annoyingly inescapable concept.

_________________

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!

Merrin unwillingly kept up, glancing from side to side as they threaded through the camp. She cradled her broken wrist against her with her free hand and after a wide-eyed sweep of the camp kept her gaze on the ground. Quite the adventure. Yes. But -

"Where did you hear that?" she responded warily, realizing she was chewing her lip fiercely and ceasing to do so. Where, indeed? It should have been a secret, going back in time. But perhaps he was only probing, feigning he already knew so she would assume he did. Merrin drew breath to add and stopped dead in sudden stupefaction.

Coming toward them, cloaked in emerald green - it was splashed with blood in a few places but retained its appearance overall - that couldn't be, shouldn't be Je'id. In a Meiltha camp. Acting, as he always did, as if he owned the place. He turned from speaking to someone or other to continue towards them and likewise stopped dead.

Merrin couldn't read his expression, but she didn't need to. "You - you - !" she gasped, inarticulate with fury. "You lying traitor!"

_________________

Evlyn stood up slolwy, yet she still moved with an inborn grace and walked over to him. "I loved you Kendath" she said in a flat voice. "I destoyed my soul so that i could work with you and be near you, i became a Meiltha. And then you met Merrin and went down a path i could not follow, could not follow becuse of what i had done to myself for love of you. You have brought me only misary, betrayal and pain, why should i help you now?" She looked at him coldly.

_________________

Made by Lembas

The words hit him like a blow, like a hammerstrike. Standing outside the cell, Kendath could only stagger back and stare at her in shocked disbelief. His mind reeled. Loved him? Since when? They'd been allies of necessity. Their volatile friendship had grown, and though he knew she had capacity for compassion, he'd never dreamed of this possibility. He'd never even thought it possible.

But then again, neither had he been the best receptor of emotions. Either he'd been very blind, or she'd hidden it very well. Damn it, how could this have happened?

He took a profound, slightly shaking breath and grasped the bars with both hands. He glanced askance at Valten. Perhaps he could knock the Exalted unconscious now and be over with it. Perhaps the Exalted might even prove useful. Valten wanted something of him, that much obvious. Would he help free Merrin?

Kendath met Evlyn's gaze. "I could free you. In return for that ring," he said quietly. "And..." Could he dare to hope...? Or would she take him for an imbecile, as she'd taken many others before? He pitched his voice even lower. "The Renegades could offer you a second chance."

-----

"You know him?" Ironlegs asked, feigning pleasant surprise. His slitted eyes slid from the shocked Merrin to the ever-cocky Je'id, who even now was regaining his composure. "Ah, yes. The lordling is quite an asset, wouldn't you agree? He's told me all about you - right down to the pretty face."

At this, Je'id's own face went scarlet. He whirled on Ironlegs in impotent fury.

Sedate as ever, the High General raised a taloned hand. Mockery tinged his voice. "Steady, lordling. No offense intended." He placed an amiable hand on Merrin's shoulder. "Do not worry yourself overly much, Mistress Dragonrider. If fortune favors you, you may even have the chance to report to your Wing Commander. I doubt it. Come."

He led her past the smirking Je'id into the candlelit darkness of his command tent, pausing only to send an attendant off for refreshment. Inside the tent, he cleared the maps off the table and took a seat. The servant came with a crystalline decanter a moment later. Completely in control, the High General poured two identical glasses of blood-red wine and slid one across the table towards his guest.

"Tell me about yourself, Mistress Dragonrider."

_________________

She romoved the ring but did not hand it over. "I won't ask why you need it but i have two questions. Have you left Semri in the past (just say yes or whatever else happened, tie up loose ends you know) and i know you love Merrin, but did you ever love me?" she pushed the ring through the bars and lowerd her voice to match his own, aware of Valten next to him. "Neither the Meiltha or Renagades will accept one such as me, all i have now is death" she looked him in the eye "And i shall find it in battle against whoever your enimies are"

_________________

Made by Lembas

Merrin barely even glanced at the offered wine. Je'id! In a Meiltha camp! She'd danced with him, been flattered by his attention, even thought that perhaps they could be friends - ! Right down to the pretty face. Well, the next time he saw her face he would decidedly not be thinking any such thing. Merrin almost had to restrain herself from overturning the glass of wine where it stood.

"No doubt Je'id's told you everything worth knowing," she said before she thought, with no small touch of bitterness. Strangely enough fury seemed to have supplanted fear, and all she could think about was her idiotic naivety in ever admiring Je'id. Merrin could have burst into tears of rage. Instead she faced Ironlegs across the table, expression set and arms crossed like a shield.

A sudden explosion of crumbling masonry could be heard and Merrin couldn't keep from cringing. Gods, keep Vryngard safe! she pleaded mutely. "There's very little of importance in any case," she added, unwillingly meeting that disconcerting stare again. What could she tell him to help her get out of this nightmare?

_________________