Faith.

[Lamai]

It was a small figure that sat on a familiar outcropping of rock on the shores of Silver Lake. She had often come here when she needed to think. The soothing motion of a lake that had suffered the taint of the Maelhim and survived helped to dull her senses. It helped to push her past the raging whirl of her thoughts. His thoughts. Their thoughts.

It was a simple theology lesson, this night. As the moon rose far overhead, and the stars twinkled their silent song, Lamai's mind moved in the same circles.

Why couldn't she perform good acts, no matter how hard she tried? Why did it not seem to matter. What was she missing?

She never had this problem as a mortal. As a mortal, she was surrounded by those that would lift a blade to protect her, knowing that she would never do so herself. The beginning of the end of the beginning was at that point when that vow was shattered.

Or was it?

Time blurred together in that year. David's death blurred into her extended bedrest. Six months for one used to constant activity was maddening. That blurred into her own death. She remembered it vividly; her last breaths taken were spent staring into the small face of her daughter. The daughter that looked so much like him. Her father. His twin.

It was there, just beyond her reach. Again, thoughts turned to mortal concerns. Yet, the ruffle of grey, healing wings reminded her of a very important fact. She wasn't mortal. What was the difference?

Lightning could have sizzled down from the sky, so quick did it strike.

Faith.

The difference was in faith. Mortality required faith to Believe. They were blind to the Maker's true purpose. They Believed with all of their very souls in the power of Goodness and Light. It was that that kept Myrken struggling, no matter what Name it was called by.

Faith was not something required by angels. Angels did not need Faith; while they could not look upon his existance, they had more than symbolic proof of his existance. Without a diety to follow, they did not exist.

In that singular, trying year, Lamai had lost her faith. That was what she was missing. That is what was lost from her grasp, that kept her striving forevermore for the Light. She was Light. She was not required to Believe in it, and that lack of belief came with a twisted lack of resolve for a creature that had once been mortal.

Had it taken six years for a simple realization? Clinging to mortality, struggling with her own bitterness and hate.

She did not need Ivory's promises. She did not need Tybalt's assurances that it was possible.

All she need do was ask. With Faith.

"Please.."

On the rock that extended out into Silver Lake from its banks, Lamai Aranea Carver was not. In the mind of two that she held most dear, she was gently unraveled, so as to keep from undoing her work entirely.

A little girl in a house filled with the love of her grandparents sat up, gasping for breath and lifting her gaze towards the ceiling and the heavens beyond... and she waited.

[Vanidor]

Faith... Faith in the words that you say and the deeds that you do. In the creed that you live by. Faith that fuels your being and sustains you when all around you is bleak and broken. Faith...

A mind that broiled with this notion. Tossed the word about upon a stormy sea of thought. Considered the meaning of the word. Of the sensation. Of the reality of it. Faith. The connections of that word and the actions that come about because of this emotion and feeling. Of the sudden dislocation, and the soothing manner in which a safety net of trust was dissassembled. Faith.

A lonely rock that sat hard upon the still edge of the Lake. A rock that sat like a sentinel there, silently watching over the land of Myrken. A rock that had at one time sat enconsoled by the soothing darkness, that was suddenly awash with brilliant light. A coruscanting flare of brillant white light. A pinpoint of energy that split the night sky, forming a line of white. Then a spinning, rough and without grace, that slashed a narrow divot into the ancient stone.

Beyond. It was a suggestion for one ot the many pits of Hél itself. For flames roared and seethed on the otherside of that gateway. Belching forth into the night as a man strode from between the gale of fire and into this realm of mortals. The gateway was allowed to fall apart as soon as he stepped free, cutting the baleful flames out and silencing the roar of the inferno behind. The night reclaimed her hold upon the Lake.

Kerrak al`Nerun. Former Captain. Justicar of a noble family. Loyal agent of a distant crown. The Burning Crusader who had had his mind broken and reforged by the Painful ministrations of Drow interlopers. Then had it soothed and reformed by a love and faith that he had never believed he would see again. Gone. Gone. Faded away like his youth and sanity. He stood upon the rock in naught but his flesh, the wind curling the hair that had been allowed to grow to the shoulders.

Bare toes would curl for a moment at the feel of the night air upon his skin, and then the Power would be reclaimed. For a moment it seemed that his footing would be lost, but then steadiness. Like a rock, he stood there with the barriers in place and the sick and joyful feeling of being filled with Truth roaring through his body. If those who knew of this power, who also tasted in the Source as he did... They would feel it like a bright flame in the night. His will was a burning ember in the darkness of the night.

And it roared with ill-contained confusion.

"Faith! The last thing I feel is Faith! To love and be loved! TO FEEL THE TRUTH ONCE AGAIN!" Like Hél upon the earth, fire blossomed about his feet, scorching the stone. Yet naught of this did touch Lamai Aranea Carver, for the madman had not forgotten. Not yet. The insanity had not yet scorched the memory from his mind. "FAITH! Faith in a fallen God who cannot sustain the lives of his sheep! I need it not! Your God is DUST! AND I WILL BURN HIS MEMORY FROM THIS LAND!" His powers granted volumn to his voice. It would echo out across the lake. Perhaps if one was awake so late in the evening, one would hear the screech of pain. See the flare of fire.

"I will not live without... Without..." Lamai. Dark eyes shadowed by the roar of flames focused upon something upon the darkened horizon. Settled with disquieting anguish. Had you ever seen this far into the dark Captain's soul? "There is nothing left, Lamai Carver. All that is good has been burnt into ash, and on the morrow the Crusade will begin. We... We... thank you for what you have done for us..."

And the gateway. It roared back into life, a frame of light surrounded by the fury of Kerrak al`Nerun. What was there to say to this madness.

[Lamai]

Faith.

It was the cornerstone of religion. Its heart. Without faith in the unseen, who would worship at all? However, it wasn't simply religion that revolved around faith.

Myrken had faith that the sun would continue to rise and set. Oh, sometimes it was blinded by some evil, but it was still there. Heros -- by word or deed or curse -- continued to have faith in those closest to them. Faith that friends -- family of the heart -- would always be there when trouble reared its ugly head.

Lovers had faith, too.

Kerrak al'Nerun, would you forget me so easily?

The Silver Lake almost seemed impervious to the rage of a mad captain. Underneath the roar of fire, its sound changed slightly as the gentle movement of its little tides lapped against bare toes. The pale flesh was bare from foot to hip, and moonlight hardly offered enough light in which to see the freckles -- though firelight certainly did. Slender curves that he knew well were unharmed, though Strawberry blond was a blanket of waves, unnatural of her homeland.

Her blindfold was missing.

He raged, her dear Captain, her savior and friend. He raged, perhaps missing the sudden heartbeat that came just before a gasped, needed breath. Before trembling arms lifted a body that had not been and then was. Hair tumbled down, cascading around her face as if to hide the proof of her identity.

He needed no proof from that soothing whisperwind that touched a mind opened to it.

'Have faith in me, my heart.'

A droplet of red stained a sandy beach.

[Vanidor]

The flames continued to roar in a circle around him, forcing the man to lower his gaze and seek out that which had been remade. From what he saw there was nothing changed, nothing different. Oh, there was no golden blood seeping from the broken remains of long shattered wings. In fact, there was a genuine lack of wings completely. Kerrak took a short step backwards, and the flames seemed to die down gently. Oh, they still roared mightily, but they did not threaten to consume the entirety of the rock they both stood upon.

A breath released, a hissing of air between clenched teeth. "Faith... Faith... Faith has done ME little good. None of the prayer sent to Your long Suffering deity, nor my own, nor to any other has cleansed the taint that suffuses me whole. The only thing that had helped was the link you and I had! Held at bay the madness within... But now... But now..." And here, Kerrak raised his hands and clenched both hands to the sides of his head. Slowly the mighty warrior fell to his knees, scuffing them with the motion. Then, hands dropped and one slapped loudly against the stone.

"Smoke and Ash, Lamai... Smoke and Ash... That shall be all that will be left when my campaign is complete. The evil that lurks in Myrken will be flayed by cleansing fire and all the world set right again... Smoke and Ash..." Another pause. His chest heaved, and eyes closed. "Your sweet words will not stay me this time, Lamai. This realm is doomed for the darkness it harbours... Only the pure will remain." And he stood. Powerful arms pushing him up off his knees, and then feet planting themselves firmly.

"I... cannot stay here. With you. You must go, before it breaks... We... I... cannot control... My will is gone..." And that last word seemed to hang in the night.

[Lamai]

"You cling to your taint as if it gives you as much comfort as I."

The voice of an angel no longer carried a soft strength. This was mortality in its raw form, birthed and vunerable. Even with the dying of a fire's ring, her very skin grew hot with its rage. The ends of hair's strands, pulled towards the roaring heat, singed just as any other's might. Yet, she did not fear.

"Listen to me," the quiet tone demanded to be heard over madness and fury. Fire's cleansing and all the Hell beyond would not have this. Not now, when she was so close to having everything she wanted. "You knew nothing of the girl left behind, devoured by angel's feathers and Truth. Yet, you Believed in her existance. In spite of madness, in spite of taint."

That fragile head finally lifted as if to look at him. In truth, there were the aqua eyes that had been cut out of their sockets by Thadius' knife -- but they stared through him. They offered her no vision of his madness, no Sight of the fire that roared around them both.

"I will not run from you. Not now, not ever," words were harsh, but she pushed herself up to her knees. It was a forceful thing; thin arms trembled underneath her own weight. Lamai had never been strong. Not the girl that he only knew through the twisting together of their minds.

Again, her head lifted. There was naught but serenity upon those freckled, sightless features. Her Sacrifice was complete. Even in Rebirth, it was acknowledged.

"Is your madness such that you would kill me to fullfill your taint's desire, my Captain? If that is my fate, then I accept it gladly."

'Purge me, my heart, if I am not pure enough to stop you.'

What started out as a droplet of blood grew into a trickle with that simple contact. Red ran a small river to pool along her top lip.

[Vanidor]

You have lost your sight in order to regain... what? A better understanding? You have lost your gifts for what... to have belief in the unknown once again? I KNOW WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF! I KNOW WHAT MY LIMITS ARE!" Kerrak stepped away and whipped his hand behind him. The gateway reformed, brilliant in the night. It was a call to him, the taint and the power that it surged with. It sang within him. Made his senses sharper. Everything was clearer.

Even the sickness that seeped through his pours. "I... KNOW... I Do... Not need to BELIEVE! No..." He stepped backwards, and flows of air would sweep over the weakened form of Lamai. They were like bands of iron that would collet her up and carry her towards him. Mad eyes swept her body, and a calloused hand rose to touch lightly against the curve of her hip. "You are too pure to be removed for this world yet. Your soul is clean this evening, and there is no need to cleanse you just yet. There must be time before suck a reckoning. No. You have.. already been purified..."

And the bands of air would carry her away from him. Away from the now boiling waters and the stone that was ready to crack under the onslaught of flames. To the shore, and away from the madness that raged within her former lover. As she was set aside, the flames would rise higher. And his voice would call out from the tumult.

"There is madness here, Lamai Carver! There is darkness to be used as a sword against Darkness! Then that sword will be plunged into it's own heart by it's own hand! I promise you this, by the love we shared and the belief I had in you. My OWN HAND!" With his fury-ridden decree, the stone beneath his feet started to crack...

[Lamai]

'Do you think me capable enough to stay here without you, Kerrak?'

His wind was a gentle thing, wrapping a vunerable body as if a cloak of finest fur and taking her away from a raging inferno. This was the culimination of everything she had feared. Her nightmare was Truth, here on the shores of Silver Lake.

But she was not the creature she had been in his arms.

Her flesh was fragile, but there was more to the essence of a creature than flesh. Her mind held only a fraction of its power, and her soul ached with the recreation that had come at a simple request.

Faith.

'I have never asked you to believe in Heaven or Hell for me, her voice pleaded, battering against the cold madness that put up its barriers to keep her out. The taint of his Power had always been able to shove her aside, to wrest control of the man from her very fingertips. It had only been his growing love that had kept her from being removed entirely. Now, her very spirit battered against him, bruised and youthful as it was.

She remembered her strength, and she did not mourn for it.

"I gave my sight to Myrken, Kerrak!" Above the wind, above the fire. Above the stone's cracking. Her voice yelled so that those still awake in the middle of the night, those listening in fear of the fire's inferno could hear it. "My gifts are still my own! Nothing has been taken that I did not give freely."

'Except you.'

Her feet touched the ground with the gentle release of his Power, and the small form of a healer crumpled to her knees. Hands rose to cover a sightless face, and she shivered -- though not from the cold of a night that had yet to fully relinquish Winter.

'I need you. Isn't that enough?'

[Vanidor]

"I need you..."

They were words that were carried upon the wind and buffeted away from ears that were circle by the crackle and heat of an almighty flame. It's heat intense. unholy. He stood within the circle of fire, the gateway behind him a shimmering light that was washed out by the ruddy glow.

He took a step, a trail of blood forming now as the stone beneath his feet cracked from the heat. The bottoms of his feet scorching by the warmth of the stone. His stomach a tumultuous wheel of bile. He wanted to vomit. But he was too proud. He held his head upright, eyes sweeping the shore where Lamai had been left. He took a breath.

It was in a voice that carried across the burning rock and above the hellish scree of fire. The roaring wind was nothing compared to the last words he spoke. "Tell... Coran that I am sorry. And Burel as well. Forgive me for what I must do." And here... Here the man raised his bare arms above his head and called deeply upon his powers. The flames roared back up into the sky. A veritable meteor of fire that rose up and up...

Can you see it, Myrken Wood. The all consuming flame of crimson hate that rose into the night-time sky? Raged up taller than the trees, and then plummeted back down upon the earth from whence they came. The rock. It is sundered from the force. Broken into pieces that scatter into the lake. Upon the shore... Yet Lamai... Lamai is spared the fragmented shrapnel. Something wards her for mere moments before the less harmful debris rain down upon her. And the rock... It is sundered. And naught remains where the proud Captain once stood.

[Lamai]

It is an unforgiving fire that illuminates the lake, that lifts into the air to threaten Myrken with its very madness. It is a violently angry thing, but even its sound does not manage to compare to the simple scream that fills that night. That sound is endless pain, shattered only as rock shattered around the small form that managed to create such agony for the ears.

Even to her own ears, the sound was a foreign thing, and it died into disbelief. Her breath was ragged, throat sore from the gut-wrenching echo of her grief that was pulled out from her. Hands that hid a sightless face thudded into the dirt, even as her bare body was pelted with smaller fragments that did little to hurt such fragile skin.

It was a desperate search of a mind that led to a full nosebleed. Desperation, indeed, for surely he hadn't just .. she refused to Believe.

He underestimated her strength. Her face raised to the sky, but there were no words for the shattering of mortal faith. Who was there to call now? Her Captain had carried her out of the very depths of Hell. And he..

..No.

She simply wasn't searching hard enough. All she had to do was extend the scope of her mind farther. Nevermind the halting, sketching sliding of a mind against others, discarding their identities in the one that she searched for. He wasn't gone. He had simply gone out of her reach, until he was safer. He wouldn't leave. Not now.

"Don't leave me here alone, Captain," a soft voice begged of the silent night's air before a tiny form collapsed on the shore of Silver Lake, alone.

[Tebrin]

And alone she would not remain for long. Myrken could, indeed, see what had transpired - at the very least, the firestorm which had struck this location was visible to all, and palpable to some. For those among the latter, the ethereal tremor that shook the town with Lamai's rebirth and Kerrak's subsequent combustion was staggering.

Tybalt DeLeon was one of these fortunate individuals to find himself practically deafened by the cataclysmic events of the evening, and a combination of curiosity and a lack of self-preservation insticts inexorably drew him to the scene of the crime. Lithe, athletic frame closed with purposeful steps upon the lone rock which had - at least, had once - stood watch so solemnly over the rippling waters of the lake. Swirling, oceanic blues immediately sought out the source of the disturbance - and found only the body of the young healer.

He was unaware of just who it was he approached, there - but he had sensed obliteration. He had sensed the absolute destruction, the ultimate oblivion of one of his own. It was a rare event, an ominous one especially for a being such as himself - and he knew only two who could have caused such a disturbance.

When he arrived at the scene, however, it was only this woman - and uninformative silence - that he found. The air thrilled with the powers that had been invoked just moments prior, but he found nothing - nothing at all to tell him just what had occurred.

So it was, then, that heart-pounding trepidation, even the lingering, icy clutches of fear that had begun to edge up into his very being, turned towards that one, solitary figure. He approached, hesitant to speak, hesitant to shatter the sudden stillness, lest he meet a similar fate to ...

To whom, exactly?

[Altias_Bromn]

It had been a maddening afternoon. All the answers he had fought so hard to find had been wrong.

His mind was filled with so many things. Visions of rings and blades. Visions of beautiful men, and even more beautiful women. Thoughts of anger, sadness, fury, sorrow, confusion, fear...a tangle of thoughts and emotions that even the chill of the night air failed to quell.

The walk toward the lake had been something unplanned. It was simply where his bare feet had carried him. For hours he had walked, from the inn, to the rememdium, the woods and now finally, in the late shadows of the evening, toward Silver lake.

He was not far from the calm waters when he first heard the voice. It was familiar, yet somehow not. It was angry...furious. And beneath that anger was a deep and unyeilding pain. It seemed only moments later that the pillar of fire rose from where he believed the banks of Silver lake would be. A column of flame that seemed to touch the stars. Seemed to reach out to burn the very Gods themselves.

Feet which seemed untroubled by the cold ground moved much more quickly now. Still he could hear the voice, and something else beneath it. The crackling of fire and ...another voice?

And then it came. A scream that split the night. A scream of sorrow and rage so raw and pure that it was likely to break the heart of one who heard it. Especially if someone knew the voice which uttered it. Altias believed he did...he prayed he was wrong.

A flutter of ebony silk and pale flesh as the long skirt was lifted above his knees as he ran toward the lake. The thick braid of hair battering his back as he moved. The Shamshir was drawn, ready to remove whatever threat awaited...

...what he found beside the lake was no threat at all. A small, huddled form. Strawberry curls. Rocks scattered about her form, as the waters of Silver lake steamed against the cold night air.

Quickly the blade was returned to the sheath hidden in the massive folds of the delicate skirt. A look toward the stranger who seemed to have come upon this place only moments before. And then a man once known as the governor of Myrken Wood would find himself kneeling amoungst fragments of hot rocks, desperately searching for signs of life in the tiny woman. Fingers drawing over her throat to feel for a heartbeat, his other hand brushing back those curls to feel for her breath, and seeing the horrible scars of her ordeal no longer.

"Lamai....?"

[Lamai]

There were two, and most certainly, there would be more as time dragged on. It mattered little to the tiny woman that laid unmoving where she had fallen. Both would find their minds touched; both would find themselves discarded by the simple crime of not being the one that she searched so desperately for.

Yet, the more she searched, the more she lacked. He was not simply gone from her ability to find him. She could not even find a trace of where he had been.

Tybalt would have the tiny figure's identity given to him by the frantic search of Altias for all that the small healer didn't respond to her name. Her heartbeat was a deceptively *strong* thrum against searching fingers; her breath was an even inhale and out -- automatic of a body that required it.

It was finally sightless eyes that opened, that stared past Altias -- past Tybalt -- towards the endless sky that she could not see.

He was gone.

"Just let me die," the empty voice pleaded, explaining nothing of what had happened. Or to whom.

[Tebrin]

Lamai. So this, then, was the light that had been squelched so suddenly.

A palpable wave of relief - and pity - purged fear from an ancient heart, stole terror from murky blues. Thou fool, Lamai - a wish had been granted, but at what cost? He advanced upon her, steps slowing as she uttered her most recent request... a frown touching upon youthful lips.

She hadn't needed him... she hadn't needed Ivory... and, alas, this was the result that such Faith wrought! He knew not of Kerrak, only of misery - misery he naturally assumed He had caused... for only He knew how to turn one person's heartfelt Faith into untenable misery so rapidly.

Let her die. He might have, were it not for Altias. Tybalt may be a stranger to you, Altias Bromn, but to him you are quite well known - for Ariane Carnath-Emory, Agnieszka Kaczamarek, and dear Lamai all knew you quite well.

Wingless Lamai... bleeding Lamai... mortal Lamai was approached, the man kneeling a few feet back from the pair.

"Oh, you fool..." He chides her quietly, lilting accent carrying notes of dulcet disappointment and sorrow. "...What have you gone and done?"

[Tsu-Hui Tang]

'Holocaust', she had whispered, to the Governor to whom her sword's been sworn for a time.

From her mouth to God's ear.

And then a madman had scorched the skies with evidence of it. It had called her: to Tsu-Hui who is also Jia Li, for she was fashioned in beauty, as well as strength. It had called, and she had answered with the subtle presence that is herself: even now she is a sliver of movement, splitting darkness with a gaze that knows such tricks, and closer now, closer, closer...

Her feet do not break a single blade of grass.

[Altias_Bromn]

"I will do no such thing. I can no more do so, than you could let me die."

Altias would remove the ebon silk shirt, it would be more than large enough to cover the small healer's form. If she did not struggle, he would pull her close to him, attempting to share his warmth with her. It was cold, though after the fire she had just experienced, he doubted the cold was much trouble to her.

"Lamai...I do not know what happened here, and right now it does not much matter. I am taking you back to the inn, do you understand? I will not leave you here to die, no matter how much you may wish it right now."

To die. Words that would have meant nothing to her just days before. The crimson trail of blood was not lost upon him. He had seen her bleed. Many times. Never...never once, had she bled the color of a mortal. Gold. Always. But...not tonight. Something had changed, something very important. Something he would wish to speak with her about, once this had passed.

The burnt and shattered rock was not forgotten. He knew of the taint upon her partner, Kerrak. It was true he did not know much about the man's condtion, but he knew about the fire, had seen it with his own eyes. The destruction wrought by flame and the wish of the healer to die...brought a thought to his mind that was pushed violently back. He could not think about the fate of his friend. Right now...all that was important was Lamai.

A look to Tybalt then, as he spoke of removing Lamai from this place. A slight frown upon his lips as rhe other man spoke of foolishness. It was true, perhaps Lamai had done something foolish, but now was not the time to consider it.