The Dreaming: The Last Dream

[Elwen]

Calonderiel grits his teeth as he climbs to his feet, violet eyes cold and hard as he lashes back with his own inner Power at the one who attacked him, breaking the mage-net that held him there.

 

In a smooth motion, he draws one of the two swords sheathed at his side, and, placing it carefully on the ground, kicks it in Gabriel's direction. In this fight, he'd be useless when it came to blades.

 

The familiar, rich and mocking laughter echoed from the doorway. "You have gotten better, Calonderiel Le'lorinel. Ten years ago, you were strong enough, but you had not the training to break the weave." the assassin fairly purrs, stepping across the threshold. About six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered and handsome, he personifies the old saying What is fair can be foul, and what is foul fair. "But then, since you are going to fulfill your destiny, you need all the sorcery at your command...and not running wild."

 

"Kisama!" Calonderiel hisses at him, his soft voice as loud as it can get-which is not very loud, considering that when he shouts at the top of his lungs, it's at a normal person's ordinary speaking voice.

 

{{OOC: OK, so I really didn't need to use Japanese, but I felt like it. Kisama basically is a dignified way of saying "you bastard!"}}

 

"Such language has no business coming out of your pretty lips." the Shadow-servant continues, ignoring the elf's outburst. "Now, there are two ways we can settle this. Either you come with me now, peacefully..." he trails off, and a truly evil expression comes over his face, as he indicates the others in the room. "Or they die. You don't want to have another five deaths because of you, now do you, chiya?"

[smallscale_mind_games]

Strangely, Cole's mouth twitched in a sort of half-smile, despite the dire situation and his own discomfort. The leaking water pipe that Mordekai had rescued Jareena from wasn't the only one...

Mordekai looked at the ceiling over the Shadow Servan's head, and muttered

"Five...four...three...two...one."

At that exact moment, three powerful streams of boiling water hissed directly into the Shadow's face. Both the twins decided that it would be good to attack in the momentary confusion, but were unsure how to go about it. Mordekai swung his flute, to clout Kisama in the back of the head, and Cole leapt with his steak-knife, stabbing in what he hoped was the general area of the chest, though it was a bit hard to tell with all the steam...

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel finds himself staring stupidly at the weapon presented before him, lying in the mixture of dirt and flour carpeting the ground. "Um... what am I supposed to do with this?" he remarks as he picks up the blade. "You can't assassinate anyone with something like this." he looks thoughtful for a second before realizing there is a tiny red splotch on the back of Calonderiel's outfit. "Well, that's not right."

 

He grasps the sword and finds a small sense of duty lurking in the cowardice of the thieving bard. "Mr... guy? You know, it's not easy to get blood out of an outfit, right?" The other assassin is currently swinging his hands at the boiling water spraying down at him... He probably can't hear me... "Hello!?" Oh great... I'm acting all heroic now. when did this come along?

 

The bard finds the sword a litle heavy to wield and pauses for a second, wondering how somebody who resembled something no wider than the pen he used for lyrics could hold up a sword like this... or even two of them. "Hey! Um..." I'll never get his name right. Cadroniel! Um..." Oh crap, I messed up... "Are you okay? It looks like you hit a nail or something, and your back is bleeding."

 

The water abruptly stops pouring from the pipe, wehre Gabriel notices that the twins are swinging at something that was there. "Eh?"

 

Well, time to be... protective. The elf rushes over to Calonderiel's side, checking the 'wound' first. In a second, he recalls the paint on the wall. "Oh." He blinks, mentally slapping himself in the forehead. "Are you okay? It was just paint, but you look like you broke something at least. you just sit there while I swing this heavy thing in random directions." It's clear the elf has no idea what he's doing. "Say, you don't have a bow or something do you?" He swings the sword over his head, poised to strike the new guy if he comes near his employer, but falls backwards with the sword barely missing Calonderiel's arm. "Yeah, I really need something else."

[Elwen]

(Goddess, help me...) Calonderiel thinks, praying to the Lady he serves for aid.

 

"Wind's four quarters, air and fire

Earth and water, hear my desire

Grant my plea who stands alone-

 

Calonderiel begins his invocation, but screams as loud as his voice will permit-not very, as has been observed-as Cate rather neatly slams his own Power into him. The Elf's channels are still raw-after all, he is only 60 years old, definitely too young to have grown out of threshold sickness-and not only does the Shadow-servant's power rip through him, his own magic backlashes due to the interrupted spell. His eyes widen as his frail body spasms, then he goes limp, completely unconcious.

 

[Anyone who senses magic senses that Calonderiel's aura is gone. He's out cold...]

 

"Now to take care of the rest of you fools." Cate Kent growls. The assassin is /not/ in a good mood.

 

[You sense that he is calling on a LOT of dark power. Bad for you... ]

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel looks back at the crumpled elf, his slitted eyes blinking in confusion. He notices that the elf is unconscious, if not dead. He swallows his generic nature to covet anything pretty, and listens for a heartbeat. There is one, but it's a little more faint than should be possible. "Um..." He says to himself as he stands up, brushing the flour off of his pants, as well as off of Calonderiel. "Well, he's still alive!"

 

He decides that the sword that was kicked towards him is going to be of no use, and he thus chooses to wield... a flour bag. He find this is not the most useful thing, as Cate decides he's just going to blink and rip the bag over Gabriel's head. Wheat flour, as it happened to be, falls in a massive mushroom cloud onto him. Gabriel blinks for a moment before picking up a rock.

 

"I just changed, damn you!" He screams, lobbing the rock at Cate as it is simply reflected back at him with a twitch of his finger. Gabriel instinctively dodges it. It is evident that this is only a meager percentage, not even one, of Cate's power, and he is still drawing on more.

 

This power is somehow matched, at least by a little bit, by Gabriel, who is evidently very pissed off about the whole flour thing. "You know, I nearly embarrased myself by changing into something clean, and you just had to go and mess it up, didn't you?!" Gabriel notes to himself that he looks like a total dumbass, but his vanity happens to be controlling him somewhat, sort of like a hidden power. A bard has to maintain his appearance after all, as nobody wants to throw gold at a stinky bard.

 

His eyes flare for a second, changing from their usual ice blue to a neon green, and he is calm. Gabriel stands there, head bent slightly, mentally picturing his adversary, and snaps his head up. Without any warning, he laughs, but not as one would do so humorously. It's a unique kind of laugh, one that causes those around them to worry. (OOC: The laugh he used to have before he would assassinate people) He pulls out a bottle of wine and engulfs it in a record time, and begins staggering towards Cate(OOC: Much like Chu from Yu Yu Hakusho, or Jackie Chan in Legend of Drunken Master), while tossing the bottle away into a bale of hay.

 

He weaves back and forth, gradually making his way to the foe that has presented himself, forgetting Calonderiel, Cole, Mordekai, and Jareena, and focusing only on his goal, despite how hopeless his subconscious knows his chances are. He recalls the daggers in his belt, (as his ditzy self never remembers them except for when he sits on them) and ignores them temporarily.

 

Cate takes the effort to lift his hand and push Gabriel back with a minute portion of his dark energy, and does so, but only to a certain extent before the bard refuels his hatred for this person. The elf pushes his way through the attacks, weaving about and stumbling like a drunken fool with a psychotic demeanor, as his drunken state holds his pain in.

 

After a minute or so Gabriel comes into contact with Cate, who abrubtly punches him in the stomach with a dash of his power. Gabriel falls backwards for a second, but pulls out his daggers fast enough to bury each one in a corresponding shoulder before Cate can react. He fastens his grip into them and unleashes all of his hatred into his blades, causing the Warrior of Darkness to shudder somewhat, before falling to his knees.

 

Gabriel's eyes return to normal, and he stops giggling to himself, and he suddenly realizes he is completely wracked with pain. His system has reverted back to the 'immunity-to-drunkeness' state. "Well, I got'im." He smiles a little before falling to the ground in pain, but still conscious.

 

Cate groans and stands up, not at the full capacity of his power anymore, and pulls the daggers out of his shoulders. It's obvious he has been hurt, but Gabriel stares in a mix of both wonder and fear.

 

"That's... that's impossible! That attack has killed everyone I've ever fought! Why... how are you still living?!"

 

"I congratulate you, you elven fool, for successfully injuring me, but you honestly think your puny hatred of me is going to kill me that easily? I could call myself hate incarnate for all I care. Certainly you have not made me more powerful, as most people tend to do, but I am not as weakened as I appear either. I still have enough power to destroy everyone in this room. Everyone, that is, except for that elf. In gratitude for injuring me, I'll make your end swift should you hand the other elf over to me. Should you choose to defy me..."

 

Cate brushes himself off while surveying the rest of the party and then looks at the bard lying on the ground, still covered in wheat flour from hair to toe, and feels nothing but pity. "I do honestly feel sorry for you creatures. You have so many problems to deal with. War, plague, and conflicts of all sorts, whether domestic or large scale. Out of pity, I think I will make your ends swift anyway, and take the elf now. You will never have to deal with the largest problem in life again... life itself."

 

(OOC: Meow! Please forgive me! I couldn't help myself! Meow! Meow! Meow! Again, I'm sorry for playing Cate, ashke. Meow! Cya! http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif )

[Jareena Faye]

To ye all...

 

Aw man, I'm so sorry I just dropped out like that! Damon, I was never mad at you all, my friend! You see, last Sunday right after church I learned that my dad was taking a fourteen-hour road trip to go trade the family van for one that actually might be able to hold our entire hugantic family. I just got back an hour ago (seven, Tuesday night). So you guys go ahead and continue while I catch up. Again... I'm real sorry.

[smallscale_mind_games]

A weight of magic shifted beneath the floor, as an ancient Earth elemental awakened for the first time in fifty years. The creature examined its emotions, and found that they still rankled with bitterness for that idiot sorcerer...pure luck that the fool had managed to trap it here for more than half a century. The sentient plant was also hungry...these little mage-fools and a dark-servant in the room above. Perhaps they would be a suitable meal. But first, the angry potted plant tore off the tag that read 'Herbert'

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel looked up at the dark sorcerer and a though of hopelessness fluttered through his mind. What have you gotten yourself into? This is only a servant, and you're already on the ground? What kind of grace is that? Get up.

 

The elf flicked his eyes back and forth ,noticing that the Servant had recently stepped in something unpleasant, and decided to wrinkle his nose as he tried to pull himself off of the ground. His arm collapsed underneath him, apparently broken. He had never taken so much damage while he was drunk before, and he couldn't stop himself from ignoring the pain or he would have died. It was a lose-lose situation, and he knew it. Despite that, Gabriel tried one more time with his other arm, and found, thankfully, that it wasn't broken.

 

"After you're dead..." He looked up at Cate. "I'm going to get so drunk that I make myself giddy, and then I'm going to sing a song about you, and how retarded you are." He smiled, proping himself onto his elbow, face still glancing at the ground and its several different colors of flour and hay. He never felt so much like he was on a farm.

 

"What?" Cate said inquisitively, with a touch of playfulness. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you. It seems that the ground is absorbing your voice, bard. Let me help you annunciate." Cate brought his foot up into Gabriel's throat, causing him to do half of a backflip and skid into the wall, chipping some of the red paint while splintering two boards. "Oh my, it seems I did just the opposite. You actually might not be able to speak for a few weeks with a wound like that, but at least you're facing me now."

 

The elven bard looked at his foe, who was toying with him, and paused to cough. A moderately large amount of blood came from Gabriel's throat as he convulsed slightly. He attempted to speak, but found that he actually couldn't, and instinctively wondered why. As soon as he turned his attention to his throat, which was screaming in pain, he clutched it and began writhing in agony on the ground.

 

"Dear, dear, bard. My time draws short, so I am afraid I will have to stop doddling." He turned to survey the rest of the group. "I will be taking Calonderiel now, and the rest of you can stay to watch if you are wise. Otherwise, you can end up like your friend here." He looked back at Gabriel calmly, knowing, or at least in his mind knowing, that he had won. "Goodbye bard. I congratulate you for damaging me, but you will not have the pleasure of gloating about it."

 

He raised his hand slightly, pointing an open palm at the bard, but was interrupted by a large tremor in the ground directly beneath him... Herbert was here.

[Jareena Faye]

JAREENA FAYE

 

I was pondering whether this fellow was spiritual, a demon subject to my authority, or physical, in which case my dwarven lance might do some damage. I finally decided on the latter and prepared to leap between the Shadow-Servant and Gabriel, when the ground lurched and split. It appeared to be spitting something up, a roiling coil of green limbs and leaves and thorns.

 

One vine curled toward the wounded Gabriel. My lance cut it off. The remaining stub seemed to hiss and scream as it recoiled. The Shadow-Servant was also fighting it, but now that his arms were pinned to his sides by a plant-like tentacle, he had trouble forcing it back. The rest of us stumbled back as he began to disappear into the hungry greenery. "I'll be---"

 

The Shadow-Servant was cut off as he disappeared. "Can't they say anything else?" I grumbled to myself. But we had other problems. The plant was coming after us, too...

 

 

Ack, sorry I took so long! You may kill me now.

[Elwen]

{{Ack! Well, guess what-Cate ISN'T eaten! He's a major part of the plot...poor Cal.}}

 

[At the moment Cate disappears into the greenery, you sense dark power being used...as per a teleportation spell.]

 

Calonderiel stirs slightly-

[Once again, all those who /can/ sense his magic do so.]

 

"Sleep now, Old One." a lilting child's soprano comes from the corner, a voice filled with Command. "Return to the slumber from whence you came."

 

((Sorry, Merry, but I'm trying to advance the plot...))

 

The plant slowly fades away-Melvin had trapped this earth spirit in the body of a plant, and whoever this was had released it.

 

[All of you see a small girl with bright eyes and short auburn curls standing in the corner-and she wasn't there before!]

 

Calonderiel's eyes open, and he rasps with sudden recognition-

"Lenore."

 

She giggles, and fades from view.

[smallscale_mind_games]

Cole blinks. Mordekai stares. Mordekai blinks. Cole stares. This goes on for a little while. Finally, Cole speaks.

"Hey Mor? Did a giant plant just come up out of the basement?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Okay then."

[troubled sleep]

((Well, its been awhile since I said anything...deepest apologies...between the marvals of being an extra(hey, a play isn't a play without them) to random bio projects(which I'm supposed to be working on now) to exam reviews(I've got six exams of them coming up this week, a wonderful end of the school year present, eh?) and so I haven't had too much time online. Also I've had no clue what to say. In fact, I still can't vouch for the relevency of this post. But then, you can't have *everything*))

 

As one may or may not be able to guess, Char was confused, amazed, frightened, and bewildered all at the same time. These emotions, and a few others thrown in for flavor, had all mashed together to form a particularly interesting expression which resembled a train wreck.

She had come in just before the sorcerer-if that was even the correct word for him-and had quickly pressed herself against a nearby wall to avoid being seen. So far, this seemed to have worked; no one had even glanced her way since her entrance. And so she had watched the whole affair silently to keep up her inconspicuous state, but after the appearance and then disapearance of both the plant and the girl, she couldn't help but let out a gasp of suprise, shock, and any other emotion that had been before unused.

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel eyes the figure hiding behind the corner, obviously trying not to be involved in any combat situations. He's still lying on the ground, but his brain isn't fried enough from his drunkeness that he doesn't lack the ability to speak. However, the fact he was internally strangled puts a damper on things, however he can croak out a few words like...

 

"Lenore?" is the only thing he says, raspy and inquisitive. That's all he says befor wandering over to the new person with a sheet of parchment and a pen.

 

You know, I saw you over here the whole time. I guess you were the only bright one out of us, not getting involved and all. Come, join us for a drink and a throat lozenge. His pen stops moving as he reaches the new person, Char.

 

He hands the note to the new girl and runs back over to Calonderiel, who is looking a tad worse than he feels. He tries to speak again, but he fails and ends up coughing and then recoilong in pain. This is no way for a bard to be living... he thinks, looking over whatever visible wounds there are on the thin elf.

 

He looks over at his bottle of wine that he had set on Cole's table and shakes his head. I've tried that before... and it hurts like hell. he ponders a moment, recalling the stab wounds he had recieved in a bar. That would be mean...

 

He tries to speak one more time and bears past the fact his throat is on fire to say a few words. "You're... not okay... are you?" he mutters, trying to be audible, but failing slightly. Okay... no more talking for now.

[Elwen]

Calonderiel manages to push himself up. "Nothing time will not fix." he says, alto voice even more whispery than usual (!). With a gentle hand he reaches out and touches Gabriel's throat, bending all his magic to heal the bard, ignoring his raw channels. "You took these wounds for me, though you did not have to. This is the least I can do."

[troubled sleep]

"Somehow I don't think that ' the only bright one' is an accurate discription..." Char said as seh scanned the note, not aware that the bard was already out of earshot until she looked up after finishing. It was then she attempted to take full account of everyone in here: the two twins who were at least no longer simply sipping tea(though their general air of calmness hadn't left them), it seemed the elf formally lying on the floor had recovered...and was healing the one who had given her the note. Perhaps there won't be any lozenges needed after all she said absent mindedly as she took note of (insert name of Jareena Faye's Character here), who appeared to be the last 'other' in the room.

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel nods and lets Calonderiel heal him, regretting he's going to end p annoying him as soon as he can speak. It's what a bard does unless he's travelling or singing. He casts a glance over at Char, who is surveying the room and looks back at the elf in front of him. "You're not well." He says, surprising himself that he can talk again, but it only last for a second. "I don't doubt that you're bleeding internally. I've had to tend to my own drunken wounds a great number of times, so I know that you don't have to be hurting on the otside to be hurting inside. Sadly, I don't know how to heal you..." he blinks at the elf and finds himself a little lost once again.

 

That changes when he realizes he too is hurting inside, probably from the punch to the ribs that Cate had dealt him. Nothing a bit of alcohol won't fix. he thought, suddenly looking back at Calonderiel again. "I'm willing to bet you have a horrific bruise on your back too. Would it be all right if I checked? If I don't know, then I can't ask Jareena to heal you because I won't know what's wrong." His voice is matter-of-factly, but there is a hint of compassion hiding.

 

He's simply trying to hide it beause he doesn't know what the elf will think... or the rest of the party. A lot of people have a tendency to chase him around with torches and stuff once they find out. "So... is it all right if I check? I just hope you don't think me rude for not inquiring. I'm only asking because I don't want to see... any of my comrades hurt... Yeah. It would hamper our little group's plans for our mission if the employer suddenly fell over dead."

[Elwen]

A faint pink tinge spreads across the sorcerer's pale skin. "I will not fall over dead." he says shortly in an attempt to bring Gabriel's attention off that little reaction to his suggestion. "I have had worse wounds and have been almost fatally drugged with mornloth. This is nothing."

 

{{OOC: mornloth is one of the few sporifics that work on an Elf, but it is very devastating.}}

 

Why does he remind me so much of Devaberiel?

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel glances over at the elf he is loking over as he stands up and successfully notices the 'pinke tinge' a.k.a. (at least in his mind) blush and smiles. "Don't worry, I didn't see that little flush of color." he says softly, hoping that the others won't hear him.

 

He contemplates for a second as he notes the other look on Calonderiel's face, the thoughtful one. "You'll have to excuse me laddy," he comments in a cheap Irish accent, "But is it me Lucky Charms 'er my face that reminds ye of somethin'?" He laughs slightly and hold back from guffawing like he does sometimes when he laughs at his own cheesy accents. "Sorry... You just seem to look thoughtful every time you look at me. Hn... it might sound a little strange, but do you think I look like an old dead guy. I feel about that way right now, having this cramp in my hip and all. It's nothing I can't take care of though."

 

his attention fades slowly into the background as a cup of tea brewing nearest to Mordekai(sp?) and Cole sounds terribly enticing. "Excuse me, oh Exalted employer, but I must take my leave to quench this non-alcoholic thirst of mine. Perhaps I can break this little... cough... alcoholism problem of mine..."

 

He prances away and floats over a flour bag, so conveniently placed just high enough for his foot to get caught on a torn strand of burlap sack, causing him to fall over again. Once again, coated in flour, he glomps onto Cole and stares with pleading and pathetic little kitten eyes (since that's the kind of eyes elves have in here) and inquires... "I need some clothes Cole." his voice going very flat at the beginning of his sentence. "And some tea, if you don't mind." After a moment of the two twins not laughing he grins. "Well... I thought it was funny... geez, what an audience."

[Elwen]

Calonderiel watches Gabriel go, violet eyes closing. "If only you knew..." the words are a soft whisper that only hints at the tortured soul within. "If only you knew."

[Damon Inferel]

Upon the brief moment of silence from Mordekai and Cole, his elf ears perked up. "Calonderiel..." He whispered lowly. "I know you can hear me, evn if the other's ca't. In all seriousness, you've been acting very odd every time you look at me, and you..." He paused nd walked over to the elf.

 

"What is it about me? I have to know, please... Every time you've gotten a good look at me, I've noticed a lot of thoughtfulness, as well as sadness behind your eyes. Have I done something wrong? Do I know you, or do you know me? I have to know Calonderiel... please, tell me." His eyes stared, begging the elf to tell him. They watered slightly, and it seemed as though he had forgotten all about the tea, the flour covering him, and all else. All that mattered to him was the elf, and the fact that he looked so sad during both times. He simply hadn't noticed it until Calonderiel had made that comment. It seemed a little strange, but an honest tear fell down his cheek, the whole ordeal all catching up with him at the same time, though there was no memory of this elf. Why did he care so much about how he felt.

 

He continued to whisper, hoping that his semi-lengthy hair was hiding himself from everyone else, and knowing his voice was too low for any non-elves to hear. "Tell me. I don't know why it's bothering me, but tell me. You seem so... so familiar, but I don't know you, but every time you look at me, you seem to know me. If I know you, please... please help me remember." He cleared up his single tear, but he was anticipating something wasn't going to keep them for long. "It sounds akward, but I don't remember anything since the last few years. Nothing at all... Help me remember if there is anything to remember. If I knew you, or if you knew me... please tell me why... how? Perhaps it will tell me why I'm somehow... attached to you. I didn't realize it until now, but..." His eyes calmed a little bit as a thought went through his head. Maybe... I shouldn't tell him tht yet. Perhaps the other thing will do for now... "I've... Somethng about you... it's so familiar, and it's somethin I have to care for." He smiled briefly... "Nobody heard me, so don't worry. Forgive me..."

 

He stood up slowly, looking around to see if anyone was looking at him. He did it very casually though, so as to make it seem like he was only holding a silent conversation. "Just tell me, okay? I beg of you." He commented, still whispering, smiling back at Calonderiel. He promptly leaned against the wall nearest to the elf, hoping he would say something.

 

(OOC: I'm unbelievably depressed right now, so please forgive me for this. I... had to write it this way. Pleaee... I'm sorry.)

[Elwen]

"You do not need to know." Calonderiel says shortly, turning away from the bard. "It is in the past. Where it will belong."

 

If Calonderiel had ever laughed, he would have in bitterness.

 

It is better for you that you hate me than care for me.

 

For I am doomed to die...

[smallscale_mind_games]

Unable to deal with an uncomfortable moment, Cole thunders upstairs. In the meantime, Mordekai, looking calm as always, offers first Gabriel, then Calondiriel a cup of tea. He runs back to the tea-table and comes back with four more cups, one for Jareena, one for Char, one for himself, and one for his currently absent twin. Cole comes clattering back down, dressed in his cab-driver ensemble, and handing his grey suit to Gabriel.

"Here. Clothes."

[Elwen]

Calonderiel pushes past Gabriel and runs headlong out the door, in a very uncharacteristic reaction from the normally composed and stoic Elf. He emerges from the mill into the night, clinging to composure by the skin of his teeth.

 

"You cannot run away from everything forever." Calonderiel tenses at the sound of the lilting, childish soprano. Lenore stands nearby, short auburn curls neatly brushed, and her amber eyes glinting.

 

[This is the same little girl who banished Herbert.]

 

"I do not have forever, now do I?" he snaps back at the Dreamer. "You seem to be showing up a lot."

 

Lenore clicks her tongue in disapproval. "Is that any way to thank me? I just want to keep an eye on you."

 

"Do that." the sorcerer remarks sarcastically, as Lenore laughs.

 

"You don't have to do this." Lenore remarks, serious for the first time.

 

"You gave me no choice." Calonderiel replies pleasantly-which, to anyone who has observed him, means the exact opposite and he is /not/ being pleasant.

 

"Well, now I'm giving one to you." Lenore says petulantly, sitting on a nearby stone wall. "You don't have to fulfill your destiny. Or you could. It's up to you."

 

"My answer remains the same." Calonderiel snaps at her. "I have nothing left to live for. I might as well die."

 

"You'd have something to live for if only you'd let someone in." the child Dreamer tells him.

 

"No." Calonderiel cuts her off.

 

"The one they call Gabriel cares very much for you." Lenore says.

 

"No. He just met me this afternoon and we have barely exchanged three words." Calonderiel holds up a slender finger. "I have been cold, cruel, and downright rude to him. All he wants is to bed me. Like a lot of men who lay eyes on me."

 

"Do emotions frighten you that much, Calonderiel?" Lenore asks him soberly. "There /is/ such a thing as love at first sight. He reminds you of Devaberiel, the one you loved and lost."

 

The ranger stiffens, but Lenore continues. "They are as alike as twins, Gabriel Pelous and Devaberiel Silverhand. And you remind him of someone...someone he does not remember but someone he cares for."

 

"Shut up!" Calonderiel fairly snarles. "Never mention Devaberiel and Gabriel in the same sentence again!"

 

"It has been ten years. Never have you let yourself heal.” Lenore is relentless. “Time heals all wounds.”

 

“These wounds will not heal, for this pain is much too real.” Calonderiel says, his voice broken. “There is too much that time will not erase.”

 

Lenore regards him sadly, Dreamer and her dream. “So you will go through with it?”

 

“I have nothing else. Naught but revenge.” The sorcerer’s voice is flat, and his cat-slit eyes glitter in his remote, lovely face.

[Damon Inferel]

Gabriel stares in wonder for a moment, confused and surprised at Calonderiel's reaction. You dope! What are you doing? He might be tryingg to kill himself. You anal retentive elf! You might have stirred up some really bad memories...

 

"Wait!" he chased Calonderiel out the door carefull, and entered in the middle of Calonderial and the little girl's conversation.

 

"--All he wants to do is bed me. Like a lot of other guys who lay eyes on me." Calonderiel said, seeming so certain of himself.

 

The conversation continued between the two as Gabriel hid behind the door of the mill. "No... No, it's not like that. Not like that at all." he says to himself quietly, almost low enough to be just moving his mouth. "I... never even considered that. No, Calonderiel, I never ever covet the pretty ones. Especially not one as beautiful as you... There are more important things to a relationship than that, and I... I just want to know you for who you are." He slumped back against the door, sliding slowly to the ground. "No, not you... There;s something more to you. It's... I can't explain it, but..."

 

He stood up gradually. He walked out from behind the door in time to hear the end of the conversation. "--But revenge." the elf's voice quite audible, but without any emotion.

 

Gabriel waved to the little girl nonchalantly, but looked over at Calonderiel. "Can... I call you Cal? It would be much easier..." He laughed nervously. "I... overheard a piece of your conversation... I... I'm not like that, I swear. I never, never, never have the desire to covet the pretty ones. It is always they who have the hardest lives, and the most likely to have had bad experiences with others... Cal...Calonderiel? Not with you... there's something more important to you than that, something that reminds me of another pretty one I knew. I... don't remember them, but I know that... I never tried with them as I have with so many others. None could compare to you I'm sure. My... my mother told me once that the most beautiful have the most difficult lives, and I believe that. I'm not even as gracious as you, but I've had my share of bad experiences. Certainly your problems are far greater than mine ever could have been... forgive me if I had done something wrong before. I'll never touch you again if that is best. I overheard the little girl's mumbling about D'briel or something... I don't know him, but from what I heard, I have the same intentions as he did... I think. I know that I haven't known you for very long, but already I care about you... Forgive me, but I don't think I can change that feeling... The little girl is right. I do care for you, and it's much more different than everyone else I've been with."

[Elwen]

Calonderiel glares at both Lenore and Gabriel.

 

"Shut up, Gabriel." he snaps. "Have you ever heard of the saying 'Empty words reflect an empty mind'? It is one that you would do well to pay attention to in the future. My problems are my own concern and none of yours. All I will say is that-I was 'born' for one purpose only. One." he stalks off, Lenore looking after him.

 

"Oh dear." she says seriously. "You'll have to excuse him, Gabriel. He's still young enough to have adolescent mood swings...which he has all the time." she smirks at him. "Just thought you should know-Calonderiel turned 60 about two months ago."