Syjenge, Ylyssa, the kobolds, the Elves, Silveredge, and I all marched across what seemed to be the sheer face of the mountain for some time. First we moved west, until the ground cover changed from bushy to grassy, then north, until there was no ground cover at all. The sun inched along in the sky, seeming to want to prolong the torturous quick march as much as the Eladrin did. I don't consider myself delicate, but after about an hour and a half's worth of trudging so far north that frost was kissing my ankles, my back and calves began to wail their agony. Once or twice I thought of Silveredge's discomfort, but attempts to glance backward were rewarded with solid smacks to the back of my head. On top of it, the brief glimpses of her emotionless face rewarded me with a sensation that hopped over fear and flew headlong toward actual terror.
"What, are we going to be catching the Griffin Express to the Feywild?" I howled at last, standing still. I received a sharp, cold jab in the back, but turned around and spat. "Forget it, I'm tired and sore. Where are we going?"
"We don't answer to the likes of you, witch," Ylyssa sneered. "You'll do well to turn around and keep moving."
"I'm tired and sore, I said. I'm sitting down right here and taking a break. If you don't like it, you can kill me. You think I'm scared of a fireball?" With that said, I snorted and down right where I was.
"It's not much farther," Syjenge consoled, an odd tone for a captor. "Perhaps about another hour further on, considering the way you've been hobbling of late."
"Right, well, unless you intend to carry me, we're taking a rest," I crabbed.
"How dare you! You'll move until we tell you to stop!" Ylyssa cried angrily. "There's little doubt in my mind that this twig was yours, and you failed to properly subdue her. I'd have so much fun melting what was your property, you mannerless snit!"
"My property?" I retorted, royally insulted. "I had a use for a slave in Vor Kragal? I'm not so lazy or so self-absorbed as you prancing Elves, who can't be bothered to wipe your own asses after you've dropped a shit. I live in the real world, I thank m'lady so kindly!"
"Enough!" Syjenge roared. For a moment, I thought he was going to get violent, but he simply took a deep breath and looked away from me. "Get up and I'll cut the cords between your ankles."
"Cut my tail free as well so that I have something that faintly resembles balance, and I'll go quietly," I reasoned. "Otherwise, you'll have to find a way to drag me, or kill me."
"I say we kill her," Ylyssa sulked, clamping her hand tightly around Silveredge's upper arm. Silveredge didn't so much as gasp in discomfort. I pursed my lips. "Uirrigan will enjoy poking at her guts- much more than he enjoyed... oh, what was his name? Vhayesh?"
The name- obviously of Tiefling origin- was spat out of her mouth with the greatest of enmity. Since Silveredge's natural born name had been reguarded with the same measure of disgust not long before, I realized that the Drow shadow that it cast was not the most distasteful thing about it.
"She'll be more useful to him alive than dead," Syjenge replied as he cut the ties between my ankles and loosened the bind on my tail- while managing to not look at me somehow. It was suspicious, and disturbing.
"Slide the noose of it right up to your ass, then hand me the strap," he commanded.
"That's-" Ylyssa began.
"Do it," Syjenge interrupted fiercely, "or I'll freeze the whole thing right off."
I looked from Syjenge to Ylyssa, then back to Syjenge, who still wasn't looking at me. "Will you at least give me a few minute's respite to rub the soreness out of my legs?"
"You can rub your ankles while I fix the strap; that's all the time you get," Syjengen replied simply.
For once, I did what I was told. And surprisingly enough, I heard-
"Thank you."
- and I looked up at Syjenge to make sure the courtesy had come from him. Sure enough, even though his haughty eyes were turned in another direction, he held out his hand to help me back to my feet.
"And we'll march more slowly- that is my command."
I could almost hear Ylyssa glowering behind him, but march more slowly we did. The sun had gone completely down before we made it to the jagged mouth of a cave. The kobolds were dismissed with a half-hearted wave, and they scuttled down narrow, branching pathways that seemed to wind farther underground. We pressed forward, past oddly ornate torches that were embedded in the walls. After a while, we had moved farther into the cave than the light of those torches could reach, and the darkness grew oppressive. Each time my eyes attempted to adjust to it, a brilliant flash of light suddenly appeared. It took me some time to realized that Ylyssa was creating images of mageflame torches with prestidigitation, only partially for the purpose of actual light. I refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing that her little trick was hurting my eyes.
Silveredge seemed to completely disappear from one shadow to another, and Ylyssa's frustration with that made me smirk. After nearly a half hour of this diversion, though, the pathway became too demanding for me to continue to turn around and look at the two of them. It grew steadily narrower and narrower until it seemed to have been cut by some underground stream that had gone dry before our forefathers were thoughts in the minds of the gods. We turned down this corridor and that, winding deeper into what rapidly appeared to be an old city. Just at the point where we had to turn sideways and walk one by one in order to fit, the walls jumped back to reveal a gigantic cavern. The place was filled with bottles, bookshelves, cauldrons, cages, scrolls, and various instruments of study. At the center, on a raised stone dais, sat a fair skinned Avariel, smiling sadly at the troop of us. Somewhere along the way, the other Elves had been dismissed, and only Silveredge stood with our two captors.
"More subjects for me, or just toys for you to play with?" the Avariel asked in a disinterested tenor. "How kind of you to at least bring the specimens that you said you would bring." He sat up and flew toward me- although it seemed more like he simply disappeared from where he was and appeared before me- then hovered about an inch above the ground as he inspected me.
"There weren't many travellers on the way along which we'd camped," Syjengen admitted. "These two were the only things we saw that even vaguely fit what we needed. I believe the town has been sealed up again- fear of criminal activity, or something."
"This one is a slave, already broken," Ylyssa crowed. "That other one is a burr that we found climbing trees."
"One can only expect burrs when climbing in trees, Ylyssa, what madness brought you to that? No civilized creature is worth the blood lost- or at least none that I have yet had the pleasure to meet." In moments, the Avariel turned and spanned the distance between the hunting party and the dais, then returned just as suddenly. He hovered about an inch above the floor for a while, then landed to come close to me. "What do you call yourself?" he asked me, apparently ignoring his servant's information.
"Mi'ishaen," I replied, taken aback by this large-eyed creature's rapt attention.
"Ah, yes, I am called Uirrigan," he smiled, again with some phantom discomfort in his looks. "And I shall most certainly call you by that most interesting, if a bit sour, name- 'Miserable,' I believe it means. But I meant your race. What is your race called? I've never seen anything quite like this."
"Tiefling. Been around some two hundred years," I answered, thinking briefly on my parents' lack of horns, hooves and tails. "But we may have changed a bit."
"A bit? Goodness me, you seem to have evolved into a whole different creature," Uirrigan sighed. "Of course, pacts with the Nine Hells are sure to have their effect. Just look at these things sticking out of your skull- gracious. Still, your forefathers' mistakes did nothing to mar your precious young face."
"Precious?" I must have looked absolutely aghast. No one had ever complimented my beauty. The Avariel gently patted my head, which wasn't insulting so much as just plain weird.
"Yes, precious, despite the horns- ah, how unfortunate. Quite lovely, otherwise. But I apologize to seem so offensive. You see, I haven't been outside in... a few centuries. I often fail to be politically correct. How fares the kingdom these days? I am rather old, as you can imagine, and it's been quite a while since a Human peddler has tried to foist an eternal life potion on me."
"The kingdom?" I laughed in spite of the situation. "The Turathi Empire is gone. Vor Kragal disappeared into shadow, I heard- I didn't see it for myself, though, so..."
"Destroyed by the Arkhosian Empire, is more likely. Just like the dragons who tore my people out of the sky. One can't expect the fruit to fall very far from the tree, as they say." He turned back to notice the faces on what I now assumed were his little helpers. "All wars are ruinous, to say the least- well. I must apologize, my dear, for the bad joke. Is there a reason why she's still bound up like a farm animal?"
Syjenge wordlessly cut the bonds on my tail so that I could stand normally. "She's not yet enthralled."
The winged Eladrin looked at me and shrugged, which seemed odd for some reason. "Rarely a true need to do so, but if one arises, leave me to it. Corellon knows you were probably scared to death to try it yourself."
I tried not to display my complete surprise at that comment.
Uirrigan took his eyes off me and focused on Silveredge. "And another race who thought it would be a good idea to sign documents in their own blood- I won't be so crass, this time. How fares the Plane of Shadow these days, my dear?"
She didn't respond. Not a single muscle so much as twitched.
"You enthralled her right away, didn't you?" Uirrigan sighed, turning his back on the situation.
"Yes, but-" Ylyssa began.
"You will call our master Uirrigaen," Syjenge began. "You will tell him how the citizens of the Shadowfell are doing."
"They stir and fight, though some give in to the call of shadow," Silveredge replied tonelessly without looking up. "Shar, from Her tower, laughs at our slow, but furious decent into nothingness. She will be unsatisfied until she has dragged all of us down to a hopeless death."
The Avariel seemed truly struck to the core at this. "Ah, moon daughter- would that you had been born on our plane! Instead, here you are, looking for all the world as though you might crumble into dust. I wonder who taught you how to hang your head like that." Flitting over to her, he put a firm hand under her chin and raised her head, studying her eyes. "What did your mother call you?"
"You will tell Uirrigaen your name," Syjenge instantly commanded.
"Jyklihaimra."
"Oh? Somebody knew somebody who knew somebody who knew a Drow?" Uirrigan smiled grimly.
"Her mother owned a Drow servant," Syjenge explained wearily, apparently tired of his own spell.
"Curious; most Drow I know would kill themselves before serving anyone else," Uirrigan marveled. "Perhaps it was a stray male. You might place her with Bahlzair, see how they get along. You might take off that accursed spell too, unless you intend to use her as a vassal for your own-" and the Avariel cast a glance over his shoulder toward Ylyssa, "-needs."
I couldn't help but giggle as the winged thing spirited himself back toward his throne, which was really nothing more than a raised desk. "The Tiefling stays with me?"
"I imagine you have much to do," Syjenge answered with grit teeth.
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