"But I do know one thing for certain about the Fey," he continues, shaking his head slowly and reaching for something. "Let us hope we need not use this, but still . . . ."
He sighs, looking at whatever he has his hand upon with some . . . . .distaste and bemusement. As if he actually doesn't want to have to use whatever item he's touching!
Something weird here. Usually don't see such actions and such in those out to destroy a world, I figure.
Seems to perhaps tell me that perhaps the mages who summoned us missed a beat, somewhere?
Maybe . . . . .
"But first," he says, looking back at me and Artizza, "Those questions because I and the others here would be forgetting the face of our fathers if we do NOT. The fate of this world, not to be melodramatic, might well depend upon it."
That's the same line that those wizards who summoned us used when they sent us on our way!
"What in God's name have we gotten into here?" I ask myself, wondering aloud.
I then find myself dissolving into laughter as an image of just how I must look, put upon while trussed up like a turkey for Seasons' feast!
Through tears of mirth, I see the blonde man look at the one known as "Jarlath" in askance and shoot a question about something I don't quiet catch. Something that makes my eyebrows arch in consternation when I review, later, what he'd asked. The gist of what I remember overheard was him asking if I and Artizza were true dark elves, like any Fey (the distinction between various kinds of which I feel I should know more about now than when I broached the subject with that betrayer, Tursil (re: 24818)) . . . . . Well, the thing is here is he's asking Jarlath how I and Artizza could say a Name ourselves when just hearing it usually causes great fear and pain to a normal Fey's ears?
. . . . .
Hm, hadn't thought about that. Then again, I and Artizza know we stand apart from "normal" dark elves in that we're not aligned with the Hell crew!
Between sharp, harsh questions and spell examinations (which cause me at times to collapse in fits of giggles, because . . . .I find I'm "ticklish" as they sweep my body in various ways), I begin to get an inclination that out captors believe that they are doing the right thing and THEY are trying to save this world. That and the key to this is to keep Rebecca safe.
Gee, how ironic. The summoners say to save this world we must kill Rebecca and these folks (who we feel various odd kinds of what I could only call kinship, some I cannot quit put a name on, two of which my heart calls kin) say to save to world she must be kept alive and well.
Well, let me just pray it is as my Fey senses say and they speak true. Fear that if not then the world may well be in trouble.
Resist an urge to laugh at this ridiculous situation, because it is decidedly not funny. Would even go so far as to curse myself for having been captured so easily, but frankly how in the world could one plan for such an unexpected collision upon the air?
Well, the questions and exams wind down and by the looks of things it appears that our captors are now less hostile, but still aren't quiet sold upon our sincerity (something to do with possible Choas energy messing things up) . . . . . The one named Joan 2 (?) sighs and wishes that the "tricorder" that Chen had brought with him hadn't died whilst they'd been away, so as to make things easier to discern on this matter.
Frankly, whatever dark magical device a "tricorder" is, I'd rather welcome it by now! These ropes are chaffing me!
They'd been very surprised (and upset) to learn that Rebecca's existence had been learned by these "opposition mages", but not overly so. Jarlath mutters something about it only having been a matter of time before the blocking ward had been overcome somehow.
Finally, Cuthbert (odd name for such a large fellow) sighs.
He looks down upon me and Artizza as he pulls something from his belt: "Since spells cast before now have given somewhat contrary readings, I fear that before we proceed something of an 'acid test' is needed, alas."
As for Cuthbert, he pulls out something from his belt that one of my impressions (that harkens from one of those blank spots within my memory) is VERY deadly, in more ways than by just what it is made of, you see! See, I can tell from the scent I get off of it (besides the odd scents of sulfur and other rather odd smells emanating from the led tipped things within the cylinder part of what I take as a weapon) it is made of various elements, the most prominent being a derivative of cold iron!
Now, even in my somewhat spell befuddled state, I AM able to deduce what he's going to attempt here as he hands a duplicate of the weapon he has in his hands to one of those dark skinned Oriental twins. From what I remember from bard's tales, those of faerie burn when cold iron touches the skin and being that Fey are (somehow) related to those of the faerie in that regard (something to do as a balancer to even out all the perks and powers gained with being "full blooded" members of those races) then the test is to see if WE burn. If we do, then we're not to be trusted because THAT cannot be cloaked by anything, even by this "Chaos energy" . . . . .it's a Law that cannot be broken, I feel.
However, you see, I am Artizza are NOT afraid as they touch these "revolvers" to our flesh because we know who and what we are. We aren't "full blooded" members. We are what I can only describe as proto- dark elves (with abilities and such granted by such a state but not "full powered" and "balance limited" because of that). Thus we don't flinch or burn when touched.
Mind you, we'd made it a point to NOT draw such a distinction to our sommoners to such a fact as they'd supplied us with non-cold iron weapons and equipment. Would have caused too many awkward questions. I guess that if we'd had some iron based equipment upon our bodies (bought latter on after we'd left), it would have made things so much easier.
Oh, but how things turn!
The way these others nod as if satisfied (finally!) about something (and then release us and removing the spells upon us), seems to have come to a conclusion.
"You wanted to talk with Rebecca and get her side," my . . . .sister? . . . .Joan says, nodding. "So you will so as to hear it from her, though you've probably heard it in one form or another from us, I wont."
"Wouldn't surprise me," Joan 2 chuckles a bit. "Transformed or not, their wits haven't been dulled by it."
I then finally ask about why I still feel like these two human women seem like sisters to me (beloved ones at that)!
Must say I and Artizza make for quiet a sight by the way our mouths drop when they explain about how "analogs" (aka dopplegangers) can react to each other. A law of magical physics, Jarlath adds, which . . . .would explain much. That and it is very . . . .very potent and . . . .permanent, this love I now have for these transformed analogs before me!
. . . .
Must say though, I'm. . . . befuddled a bit more than my wife over this. See, I somehow had never envisioned that I (or an "analog") would ever adjust so well (and enjoy so much) becoming a beautiful woman. Then again, on the other hand (to be fair), I look back and see how I as a human would never had ever believed I'd love coming into my rightful form.
Food for thought as we go off (with new family and friends, our elfin heart say and we finally believe) to see this Rebecca.
After all, we did come out here to get her side of things and frankly I'm rather in the mood (after this fuss) in seeing the woman in question!!
As for the others (our former captors), I and Artizza don't hold a grudge. We'd have done the same, if the situation had been reverse, afterall. Besides, no harm done to us to be upset about, right?
Hours later . . . .
A very changed master mage looks up from her scrying pool, over at the still smoking ruins of the main "meeting place". She would like to say it that had been torched in order to cover tracks to fend off a feared attack that had not come, and sighs yet again. But the thing is that after finding out what she (back then still "he") had come to find, a second summoning had gone disastrously wrong! Now, not a single member was as they'd been! Some were now the opposite gender. Some were now a different species. Some a combination of both.
Some members now had actually (horror!) lost the ability to cast magic!!
Some had even lost their very identities, either becoming new people in mind and body entirely . . . .or due to the fact that a dumb (mundane) animals such a complex mosaic of thoughts, memories, and ideas (as well as soul, if you will) found within a person cannot be held within a mind and body so limited as what a mere animal possesses . . . .
She crosses her arms, over her chest, and sighs again (having gotten used to HAVING female breast). She'd come to now accept (and even like) these ample things, but she still stamps her hoof in rage over what she's witnessed.
Their enemy turned the dark elves and were NOW back in the capitol city, at Aaron's side!
"I am most definitely not amused," she whispers in a melodious voice, brushing a stray locket of chestnut hair from her sky blue eyes.
4/6/2003 10:28:50 AM
The Never Ending Quest Home
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