1:14 The wardens.

I awoke to find that my head had been propped up on Silveredge's lap.  I couldn't move a single muscle, and found that instead of the chalky taste, there was a slightly sweet substance covering my tongue. 

Silveredge gently opened my eyes for me, her own eyes two fascinatingly focused pools of concern.  I couldn't move to protest my position, and in a few moments, I was glad that I couldn't, because she brushed the hair from my brow and- surprise of surprises- kissed it.

"No fever," she reported dutifully.  I wasn't sure who she was reporting to, but figured it wasn't Syjen, since she sounded refreshingly normal.

And I realized at once that I'd missed the sound of her natural voice.

She put firm arms under my shoulders to push me up- I flopped a bit, unable to control myself, until my gaze was focused on Bahlzair.  When she saw that I had no control of my body whatsoever, she gently brushed my eyelids up and down in order to keep my eyes from drying.

The alchemist's hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, but was still long enough to cascade down onto the floor behind him.  His head was down and his eyes were closed, and as I watched him, I noticed that images began to appear on the bare wall behind him, just under his hard-working stone shelf.

First, pictographic characters that I could not comprehend appeared.  Behind me, Silveredge peered at my face, then clucked her tongue.  The characters disappeared, and were replaced by a sprawling, circular script.  Again Silveredge clucked at Bahlzair.  Had I been able to speak, I would have told them that I could not read at all, but I couldn't, and the pair of them cycled through a few more forms of written communication before they finally settled on full-blown images.

Apparently, Bahlzair had been here far longer than Aleksei, though he would not go into any detail about the Dragonborn at all.  He served as the cook, and as a potions master when Uirrigan was unwell.  This small bit of information took approximately fifteen or twenty minutes to relay in picture-form- I was able to sit up on my own at last when the last picture appeared.  By the time Bahlzair was sure that I understood it all, Ylyssa strode into the room.  Silveredge immediately scooted over to the other bed and laid down, back toward me.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, pointing a fiery finger at me.  I very slowly turned to look at her.  Behind Bahlzair, whose head was still bowed, lean, angular characters appeared, quickly etching their way across the stone.  "I see," the Eladrin responded, crossing her arms and turning her full focus on me. "Well, is she any better now?"  More characters appeared on the stone, and Ylyssa crossed her arms.  "Syjenge will not be pleased," she sniffed, turning on her heel to leave.

There was silence- only the soft padding of her leather-clad feet could be heard.  I turned my gaze slowly to Bahlzair, and was shocked that the writing on the wall behind him had already changed to a graphic image of Uirrigan.  According to the artist's rendering, the winged Elf had chains piercing through the joints of his wings as well as a spiked collar digging into his neck.  The chains were embedded in the walls of a crumbling sanctuary, and the clearly recognizable images of Syjen and Ylyssa were standing on either side of the Avariel, arms crossed and noses in the air.

It was a completely comprehensible image.
It also conflicted with Uirrigan's own words.
Ignorant as I was then, I was more than aware of the Drow reputation for dishonesty.
But on the other hand, what ancient, once-powerful creature would admit that close relatives of his own race had enslaved him?

I laid down again and closed my eyes- this time of my own accord.

1:13 Bahlzair.

Aleksei took a serious look at my hand in the poor candle light, a sigh rattling in his chest.

"You are having more questions?" he asked simply, taking his gaze from my hand to my eyes.

I pursed my lips and decided that I could certainly do worse than trust a Dragonborn who had legitimately just finished telling me what must have been the worst story of his life, right after he almost rode the tips of my daggers down to the gates of the Hells.

"Uirrigan spoke of a Drow here-"

"Bahlzair.  You would not wish to meet him in full battle many times," Aleksei laughed.  "He could spit on his blade, and it would burn you like a master alchemist's best work."

"I thought Drow leaders didn't allow their men to learn such arts," I puzzled, crossing my arms.  Aleksei rested his hand comfortably on his thigh again, peeking down the hall toward some unknown lurker.

"Indeed, they do not.  But Bahlzair, he is different.  They are knowing he is capable of terrible things.  He is having much success against surface Elves, so his people are using him in many battles.  Surface Elves are learning his name, because he is unique.  When our two honorable captors and their mighty kobold army are first ambushing his raiding party, most of the female warriors are leaving him behind, saying, 'He is a male.  He is not so precious.'  But they are wrong, and one of them is staying with him until she cannot.  His blood is all bitter, so much that he cannot speak.  His body is making poison, all on its own.  Every drop of his sweat is deadly.  He fights with a rage that is too heavy for him to bear, because what little happiness he is having, your flouncy Elves are taking from him.  The lives of more than half the kobolds here are belonging to his blades.  He is never sleeping, not once since I am meeting him.  The winged one is healing me, but he is far too furious to remain hurt or unwell.  He is healing himself, with his anger alone."

Aside from his incredibly snide portrayal of the Drow's capture, I had to laugh at Aleksei's description of the creature.  "You're kidding me, Aleksei.  No one sweats poison.  The way you're describing him, if he tried to sire a child, he'd wind up killing the female."

Aleksei got up from his position and snorted down at me.  The candle sputtered at the sudden gust of air from his cavernous lungs.  "Yes, he would; I believe this.  He is more than alchemist.  He is living poison.  He sweats it, breathes it, bleeds it.  It is just as I am telling you.  I do not know why."  He reached out his hand, and I looked at it for a moment before I decided to accept it.  "It is my privilege to speak with you," he said gravely, inclining his head slightly.

"Ah, uhm-" I managed, wide-eyed and surprised.  "Same to you?"

Aleksei chuckled and let me go.  "It is many customs you are not having," he said in a compassionate tone as he made his way back up the incline.  "This is northern Arkhosia's way of bidding brothers and sisters farewell."

"Pfft, no, we don't go around saying things like that just to say good bye or good night," I responded, turning to watch him go.  "We just leave- or at least I always have.  Aren't you going to lock me in?"

"Locks are for making one stay in their place when they have an idea about how to get away," Aleksei replied, almost out of sight.  "It is I who will be locked in, once I return to my cell.  Perhaps Syjenge is already contemplating his flail, or the dimensional shackles."

"Dimensional shackles?" I asked, having to call after him by now.  I heard no reply. Just as I turned, I caught a rat scurrying up from another cell.  "You're alive, so you're getting food.  Maybe if I follow-"

The rat moved quickly- very quickly.  I don't know what I expected out of a creature liable to be killed for food, but the fact is that I wasn't completely prepared to follow the tiny beast.  My eyes struggled to go from the near blackness of the caverns to the brilliant blazes of the far separated torches along the walls.  If I'd had any questions about whether the place was a functional citadel or not at one time, a near fifteen minutes of silent exploration cured them.  The curious scrawling in the unidentifiable language graced a few recognizable areas- a communal living space of some sort, some kind of place of bathing.  When I finally lost track of the rat for good, my ears caught a disturbing, but almost welcome sound-

Grinding.

Either someone was sharpening a weapon or a cooking tool.  No farming could possibly be done so far below the caresses of the sun-

Wait, I thought.  Drow.  Do Drow farm?

There was absolutely no time between this stray thought and a sharp tug on my hair.  Whomever my captor was wrapped their hand in my short strap braid and yanked it so hard that I had absolutely no choice but to jerk upward.  This spoke to a good deal of physical effort on their part, even though I had been surprised.  So imagine my confusion when I turned my head- with significant difficulty- to look into big, silver eyes.

"Silveredge?"

A bluish hand was instantly clamped over my mouth.  Without a word, I was forcibly quick marched closer and closer to the origin of the grinding sound.  There were no torches at all down these corridors, and everything became as black as a death shroud.  The chilly stone floor grew steadily warmer and warmer, as did our utterly dark surroundings, until I was sure that I was going to be thrown in an oven.

I was half right.

When we stepped past a carved stone arch, the light of a roaring fire struck my eyes so strongly that I felt as though it was literally melting them from my sockets.  Silveredge was affected too, as she paused for a split second before marching me around the stone cylindrical oven at the heart of a decent sized room.  I struggled to recognize that there were shelves- shelves that lined the entirety of the room, filled with different bottles and jars, not unlike the back of Uirrigan's gigantic study area.  Off in the corner were two straw beds with two more shirts stuffed with straw.

Aleksei took care of this room, I thought.

The grinding stopped.

I tried to turn my head to see what had been the cause of the noise in the first place, but Silveredge managed to hold my head absolutely firm, her hair-filled fist pressed directly behind my neck.   A few moments later, a slender, ebony-skinned male with shock white hair strode calmly into my line of sight.  He came close to me- so close that I thought he was going to try to get his jollies off me- but then turned his head slightly to one side and smelled me.  It was a deep intake of breath that he savored with closed eyes.  His lips thinned, then firmed into a scowl that his face was obviously quite used to.

"What do you think you're going to do?" I dared, my voice low, but intense.

The dark-skinned creature turned his back on me without answering, focusing instead on the myriad of holding jars that lined the shelves.  After careful contemplation, he reached his left hand out to his side, maybe about a foot away from his shoulder.  No words were spoken.  No unnecessary movement made.  In moments, the vessel he wanted lifted itself out of its place and flew into his hand.  He lifted his right hand, a bit farther to his side, with his palm upraised and all his fingers fully extended.  A small silver blade, etched with shockingly blue markings, glided right past him and settled itself on a far shelf.  It took me a few moments to notice that on its way, it had sliced his thumb open.  The minute he sprinkled some dust from the vessel into his mouth and then stuck his thumb in after it, I knew exactly who I was looking at.

"I said what are you going to do, Bahlzair?"

The male paused, his scowl lightening slightly at the recognition of his name, but that momentary surprise didn't stop him.  He took his thumb out of his mouth, drew his right hand back and cracked me across the jaw with the most solid backhand that I think I've ever suffered.  Then, with focused quickness, he grabbed my lower jaw, which had popped open, and spat into my open mouth.  I was completely disgusted, of course, and began to gag.  He pressed his fingers on my cheeks until I could taste my own blood, then pushed my head as far back as it would go.  I gurgled, but couldn't spit back at him, due to his powerful clamp on my lower jaw.  I suppose he must have spirited his vessel back to its place, because his right hand found its way over my nose.  I clearly had a choice- swallow so that I could breathe through my mouth, or stifle.

Silveredge was smart.  She'd clamped my tail between her legs.  Had she not done that, I would have at least had some sort of recourse.  But since I couldn't think of any way to successfully repel them both, and my lungs started to burn from lack of air, I went ahead and swallowed.

The hold at the back of my neck and on my tail were immediately released, but my head was still held painfully aloft until the Drow reached whatever designated time he'd set in his mind.  He led me by the jaw, turning me until my back was to the stove.  Then he shoved me backward, hard, so that I slammed into the hot stone, losing what little breath I'd struggled to catch.  I stumbled forward a bit as he watched me with brilliant blood red orbs.  The horrid mixture had left a chalky aftertaste, but I didn't have long to worry about that.  I realized with horror that my tongue was becoming numb.  I tried to holler, but found that I could no longer get my voice above a hollow whisper.  I looked to my right to find Silveredge sitting on one of the straw beds, her gaze sorrowful and pleading.  She said nothing, and turned her eyes away as soon as I caught them.  But she slowly waved her hand downward.

I'm a bit more hard-headed than I'm sure she hoped.

I tried to move forward to grab her, to demand what was going on, but my knees buckled and dumped me onto the floor.  The dark skinned male moved forward instantly, gathering me into his arms like a small child and walking quickly over to the unoccupied straw bed.  Without a lick of protest, he laid me down onto the bed, and both he and Silveredge tried their best to put me in a proper position.  While they tried to do this, I found that I couldn't keep my eyes open.

I drifted helplessly into a genuinely terrified sleep.

1:12 Humble service.

Aleksei wasn't phased in the least by his inability to see Uirrigan.  He simply made his way toward the very slender hallway.  About two feet away from it, he paused and looked over his shoulder at me.

"She is coming with me?" he asked, apparently just remembering why I wasn't moving anywhere.

"That would be nice," Uirrigan's voice fluttered from somewhere.  "You have cleared the cleric's artifacts thoroughly, I trust?"

Aleksei smirked wickedly.  "Vecna himself is having hard time guessing that room's secrets."

Uirrigan finally and at last showed himself near the very back of his study.  "Well enough.  Now begone."  With this brusque commandment, he began rustling papers and moving glass around as though he were really doing something serious.  I was bewildered, considering that the notation on my blood supposedly had to be done quickly.   It was such a sharp change in tone and manner that I thought to demand what he meant by it.  Then I watched Ylyssa pass between Aleksei and I with her nose up in the air.  Without a word, I followed Aleksei, who was just as sturdy on his feet as he had been when he entered Uirrigan's study, even if he wasn't as fast.  Either the damage wasn't as severe as I'd thought, or Uirrigan was practically a master healing alchemist.

"You've seen many battles?" I asked as he turned himself sideways to get into the pinhole of a corridor.  I also had to turn sideways, and finding the hallway utterly dark, I had to listen carefully for his footsteps and reach out my arms to make sure I wasn't about to crash into him.

He waited until he had enough room to walk straight forward to answer me, which was well enough in the pitch blackness.  Even a little light would have been helpful for me, but with none at all, I was just as blind as any mole.   When the stone walls inched back a little, a few far-flung torches greeted my eyes, and I was able to adjust.  Aleksei paused, possibly to allow his own eyes to adjust, then moved forward with a bit more speed.

"Not too many battles, but each one fierce.  My clan is knowing we are losing everything by the time I am old enough to fight.  Already my mother is losing four sons, two daughters, and is too old to be having more children.  She is telling me, 'Lyoshenka-' "

"What?" I interrupted laughingly.  "I thought you were called Aleksei."

He stopped in the hallway and turned to me abruptly, his craggy face made a mask of confusion by the dim lighting.  "Your mother is having no sweet name for you?" he asked, genuinely struck.  "Or maybe if father is more important, is he having no sweet little name for you?"

I bit my lips, sensing that I had just hit a nerve.  I wasn't sure why I was concerned about it, at that point, but I still was.  Something about this lumbering creature had pricked a long silent string of feeling.  "My brother had a- I guess a 'sweet name' for me.  Everybody else just called me Mi'ishaen.  Nothing sweet about that.  It means 'misery,' actually."  I shrugged my apology.

" 'Misery.' Maybe it is the war," he responded, turning around again.  "Our leaders are guilty of many sins.  I am thinking destroying families is the worst.  That is Tiamat's first sin, and her greatest."

We walked in silence for a while after that statement, as he led me down some twists that dug deeply into wherever we were.  I realized briefly and sadly that I could not tell what level I was at anymore.  I had no idea what time it was, since I hadn't seen daylight or starlight recently, and I had the odd sense of eternity being similar to this endless maze of dim winding paths. 

The place itself began to change the further into it we went.  Every now and again there was some shard of old carving, or some strangely bright patch of paint to indicate that this had not always been the grim cave that it had become.  The walls gently backed off to a normal width for a city, and the floor became a very poorly kept paved road instead of a simple sheet of rock.  I wondered if we'd somehow mystically and magically entered some antechamber for the Underdark.

"I didn't mean to offend you, you know," I mustered.  We passed a place that had an unreadable inscription high above both of our heads, and I wondered what hulking creature could have carved it into the face of the solid stone.

"Oh no,"  Aleksei grunted.  "It is me doing the offending to you, speaking of family when you do not have such fond memories.  Please to watch out for bones here.  I think it is some small creature's pleasure to leave bones right in this spot, either to annoy me or to mark some territory that I know nothing about."

I obediently stepped over the collection of small bones, wondering what creature they used to be.  "I've got fond enough memories- my brother used to use me to train with," I shrugged.  "He said I was as good a fighter as the other soldiers he had to put up with.  I was never really sure if that was a compliment for me or a shame for them, though."

Finally, we had come to a carved cavern with a few barred doors.  I assumed the carving we had passed before must have said something about jail.  The first cell had two blankets carefully laid over straw and a straw stuffed shirt for a pillow.  A small table was pushed into the far corner, and an animal fat candle stunk up the whole works while giving a pitiful light.

"I am hoping you will not mind the rats," Aleksei sighed as he noted my reaction to the place.  "Almost always I am bound, so I cannot do as much cleaning as maybe I would like."

"I'm sure it's fine," I shrugged.  "It's supposed to be a holding cell, after all, not a palace."

"Ah, but this is the humble service of Bahamut, for the evil things that I am doing," Aleksei said, shaking his head seriously.  "I am doing my best to make sure that this place is a good house for the winged one and all his creatures, until he is dead- which may be soon."

This time, I was not intending to let Aleksei dodge off from the story of exactly what he'd done.  It seemed that his mother's words were important, however, so I figured I'd start back where I'd interrupted him.  "I interrupted you before- what precisely did your mother say, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked, sitting down in the hallway.  Aleksei looked around him for a few moments, then sat down himself, knees to the floor and backside sitting on his ankles.  His rather nasty looking two thirds of a tail curled behind him as best as it could, and I tried not to stare at it.

Aleksei looked at his hands for some odd reason, and I noted how some of the scale on his right hand and arm was a different color as well.  One could hardly tell whether he was really green scaled with silver patching or silver with green patching.  His fiercely blond hair and hazel eyes were absolutely no help.  "She is telling me, 'You must fight honorably, and well, to uphold your great grandfather.'  She is saying this because great grandfather is one of the leaders who is saying that the progress of Bael Turath must be checked.  He is wanting to hold the Tieflings back from total domination, but he is not wanting to utterly destroy innocent people, who are only results of the choice their leaders are making.  He is not wanting total control in the hands of Dragonborn.  He is not knowing that there are leaders that are wanting Bael Turath's power for themselves.  He is thinking to protect our race, and other races from both great powers.  He serving the most holy Io, and he is righteous, but he is fighting unrighteous war."

"That's interesting," I mused, leaning back against the wall of my cell.  "Wasn't the magic of their dragon gods enough for them?"

"No, there are many gods, and not all of them are being friends.  Some Dragonborn are saying, "I do not care for the gods, for they are all evil."  Many Dragonborn are saying, 'I am following Io, for there are no other gods but him.'  Others are saying, 'I am following Bahamut, for he is wisdom and justice.'  Then still others saying, 'I am following Tiamat, for she is wealth and power.'  These last are the dangers, for Tiamat is evil, and will never be anything but evil for eternity upon eternity.  This is why my mother is upset, because all of the whole family is furious with Io for allowing this war with Bael Turath to continue for generations, and many are choosing to walk with Tiamat.  She alone is still begging Io for help, and she is doing nothing but losing husband, losing children, losing brothers, losing friends.  More and more, the war is eating her alive.  She is saying this to me, but I am not yet hearing her.  I am wanting only to defend the mighty Arkhosia, to crush the demon creatures.  But those of Tiamat are killing those who follow Bahamut on their own beds.  Leaders are sending brothers and friends with whom they do not agree to the front lines- to their deaths.  Hoards and the number of soldiers one could command are becoming more important than defending our race and the other races that we allow to live among us.  Arkhosia is on fire inside, burning down around us, in our hearts."  I must have shifted or something, because he abruptly stopped and gave me a grim smile.  "I am boring you with this, yes?"

"No," I replied, moving my tail and being grateful that I still had the last third of it.  "It's just strange to hear this, because I never heard anything about this from anyone.  People plotting and murdering their own in their sleep- you'd think the scouts would say something about that."

Aleksei chuckled, seeming a bit relieved.  "Our scouts also are not telling us everything.  All of our intelligence is saying nothing of children being used as traps, until it is too late.  Then we are killing all children without mercy, and maybe some children are dying with a hate that they are not having before now deep in their innocent hearts.  We are making furious wraiths of small children."  He paused and breathed deeply, his eyes closed.  "This is great sin.  Punishment will follow all of us, as long as we live."

"You've been punished enough.  Bael Turath is gone, and look what you get for it- I mean, you're not an empire anymore yourselves.  You're scattered all over the place, just like us, so what more could any gods demand of you?" I crabbed, crossing my arms.

He shook his head, the braids and silvery leather tendrils in the wild mane of hair shifting and gently slapping scale as he did.  "Always Arkhosia is spread out over much territory.  Some Dragonborn are so far that they are not even knowing what the great citadels are looking like, and they are even having different type of Draconic speaking.  This distance is not meaning as much to us as it is to Bael Turath.  But just as in the past Io is bringing Humans to destroy dragons until the dragons are finding peace with each other, so he will turn his face from us until the Dragonborn are learning to let go of pride, and lust for power.  This is making us the same as the Tieflings that we fought.  We are maybe not selling our souls to the Nine Hells, but Tiamat also is evil."

"If Io's intent is to get all the Dragonborn to stop being proud, he'll have a rough time of it," I sneered.  "You're the first I've met who didn't automatically treat me like a cart full of fresh shit."

"This is why the gods are bringing you into the winged one's cave, you see now?" Aleksei smiled brightly, his one functional eye reflecting all the hope that the pitiful candle behind us would allow me to see.  "Now you are learning what I am failing to learn so long ago.   When you are meeting other Dragonborn, maybe now you are not killing them instantly in your mind.  Maybe now you are giving them a small chance before they are meeting your daggers, which are the very claws of death in your hands."

"Heh, 'claws of death'- hey, thanks," I chuckled, a bit confused to be getting a compliment from him.  "What changed your mind, if you don't mind my asking?  What made you realize that you should serve Bahamut, or Io, instead of Tiamat?"

"Ah," Aleksei sighed, all joy fleeing his face.  "This is my shame.  I am wandering much, alone and mostly drunk, after I am committing this sin- Tiamat's great sin."

"I knew there had to be some other handicap for you to get caught by a pair of flouncy Elves," I spat bitterly, still stung by my own capture.  "Being half blind wasn't quite enough, but knee-walking drunk explains it."

"Your 'flouncy Elves' are tricky, and always are making pacts with those that they live beside.  Always these pacts are costing more than the others want to pay, but then it is too late.  The kobolds are speaking to me like kin, and giving me more drink to drown my whining with.  Because of this, I am making accidental agreement that I am finding out about maybe a little too late," Aleksei answered.  I watched his gaze wander elsewhere, as though he could see and relive the story he was about to tell.  "Before this, I am becoming great leader in Arkhosian army; many obey my voice above all others.  One night, I am receiving critical orders from my commanding officer.  There is loud rebellion against the continued war raging in the northern mountains, and I am being sent to end the opposition, because I alone know where to find the temple where it is being sheltered.  It is old temple of Io."

"Oh no," I whispered instantly.  Some strange, plucked chord of feeling was now practically throbbing in my heart, and I didn't know what to do with it.

"It is the most beautiful killing I am doing in my life," Aleksei continued, closing his eye and bowing his head.  "Not one of the rebellion followers can stand against me.  I am like the heart of Tiamat burning among them, tearing the scale from their skin, pulling the meat from their bones.  My power is perfect, their fear before me most pleasing to the goddess.  Their blood is singing.  It is only after everyone is moaning and dying that I am hearing a familiar voice saying to me, 'Lyoshenka, even you I am losing?' She is crying.  I am looking, looking, throwing bodies over to find her.  I am lifting her head, and I am screaming at her, 'How could you do this?  How could you betray Arkhosia?' and she is saying to me, 'How could you?' These are the last words she is saying to me.  My heart is losing all feeling for Arkhosia in that time.  I am losing all feeling for everything.  It is soon after this that I am of no more use to the armies, because I cannot tell friend from foe.  My rage is too much.  I am killing everyone around me, I am always in public houses, and I am crying all the time.  I am- lost."

Somewhere in the cosmos, there is an awfully powerful god.

For the first time in my life, I felt true pity for a Dragonborn.  I literally didn't know whether to lean forward and hug him, or simply pat his hand as it rested on his thigh.  There was silence as that disgusting fat candle gave off its stench and its weak light.  Finally and at last, I decided that I had to do something.

So I reached out the hand whose two smashed fingers had been bound together.
And wonder of wonders, without another word, a scarred and scaled hand reached out to tenderly hold it.

We obviously could not, with that one pitiful gesture, erase the war that had wiped out Bael Turath and sorely damaged Arkhosia.  But there, in the light of a sputtering fat candle, the shadows of those empires disappeared, leaving only Mi'ishaen and Aleksei.