The sun sat sacrificially on the horizon, the last few remnants of the day falling into the blissful embrace of night. Shadows eagerly grabbed at the edges of the Glomdoring Forest, racing like little children across bough and bush in a meticulous game of tag. The Ravenwood Tree stood as a vigile at the heart of the forest, spiders clinging to its leaves and branches as they, too, created their own havens of safety. Someone stared off into the darkness that was coming quickly from the east, a warm breeze carrying with it the smell of fertile earth and fresh air from the nearby mountains that cradled the forest maternally. They watched from afar, noting the night as a barghest sat obediently nearby. Night was coming, and it was not without plans of its own.

--++--

Shayle lay next to Xenthos in a large, ornate bed of ravenwood. Sheer black drapes gathered at the canopy above, fluttering in the cool night breeze. She had found him more than willing to take her in a lustful manner, satiating himself within her flesh before falling asleep beneath the watchful eyes of applauding shadows. Her mind was not so complacent. It raced along the events that she knew were of importance, but to what degree, she will still unsure. Damn it all, she thought wearily. I can't do this. Forsaking sleep, she rose carefully so as to not wake her husband, grabbed a night robe that hung at the foot of the bed, and drapped it about herself. She escaped to her study in Night's Needle, lighting the candles carefully until she was satisified with the light they bore.

The day had brought on too many trials, too many things that tested her. The Night Council was now up in arms about the latest Serenwilde attacks. They had become more frequent, with four night hags and seven denizens found slained at the very heart of Ethereal Glom. At the heart of my home, Shayle noted with a heavy heart. The funeral arrangements had already been made, thankfully, by Xenthos. She blessed him for that and was thankful for his foresight. They've never been this brash before, she said to herself as she looked around the room. They've never attacked us directly in Ethereal Glomdoring. Not like this. A Shadowdancer novice had found the bodies; a small and frail elfen girl who had just recently joined the guild. Shayle had sat with her in her study for several hours, leaving her barghest and fae to glare at anyone foolish enough to knock on the twin doors. Poor thing will probably never forget that sight, she thought as she shook her head sadly. Maybe it is better she saw it before she entered into her powers as a Shadowdancer. Shayle's mood had gone from miserable to outright enraged upon hearing there had been more attacks on a few of her older Shadowdancers. They had gotten away safely though, with enough information on who had tried to kill them. Because that's all those fanatics know how to do. Kill.

The next few hours were spent in solitude, Shayle staring out onto the forest below from the balcony. The presence of Mother Night was very strong this twilight, with the moon hardly glistening in the black sky. She could almost feel the presence of the Great Spirit wrapping around her in the breeze, caressing her and quieting her turbulent thoughts.

"You mustn't frown so deeply, Shayle," came a voice from behind her. "You'll get frown lines." She turned to find Viravain watching her with hands clasped before her, like a virgin of the shadows brought to life. Shayle curtseyed deeply, her bath robe cascading down about her in folds of thin white velvet. "If you were paid for thinking, my child, you would be much richer thank Richter himself."

Shayle smiled at the joke, though it was light and Viravain was never light or appeared without a reason.

"Forgive my mind, Lady Viravain. It has yet to be coaxed to sleep," she replied, rising from her curtsey to give the goddess a smile. Viravain nodded, her black hair flowing down her pale shoulders and onto the hardwood floor. A moment of silence passed, with divinity and mortality watching one another as if trying to read the other's mind. Neither broke their watch, and neither dared look away.

"I sense a great weariness within you," Viravain said observantly, moving passed Shayle to grasp ahold of the railing on the balcony. "The night is beautiful, is it not?" Shayle remained silent, letting Viravain speak as she listened. "One should be careful about offering thoughts to the night. Not even it knows when to slumber and leave the world of the awakened behind." She turned to look at Shayle once more, giving her a gentle smile before her form simply faded into the shadows of the night. Shayle walked to where she had stood and looked down onto the forest. Sometimes, one's own worst enemy can be one's own thoughts. She did not move from that place until the dawn, casting her senses out into the Glomdoring Forest and letting her spirit walk among thorn beast and spider. They knew well her sole desire and purpose in doing this, and never once did they speak of it to another living thing.

--==--

A figure snapped its head up, having dozed off, and looked about frantically. Something had caused it to awaken abruptly, and the figure's stark white eyes searched frantically and obsessively along the forest floor below. The barghest beside it had already been awake and was sniffing at the air, searching for the same thing that had brought the figure out of dreams plagued by searching hands and staring eyes. A passerby wouldn't see the figure until it was too late; until they had fallen under its curse and spell. Though, none did and none would for the night. The figure wrapped its black robe about it tighter and laid its head back against the tree in which it sat. But it knew something was out there. Watching. Waiting. And when that something came to find the figure in the tree, it would soon regret ever taking to the hunt.

Edited: Microsoft Spellcheck my rear.

I'm so confused! They're nice reads (except the fact that it was obvious in Chaper IV that's you've never actually bothered to stop and look at how the tabernacles relate to the rest of the area around them, unless you were referring to Deep Blue Cathedral) but... but... what are they for!? What is their meaning!? Why were they written!? Why is there a kitty in all of them!? (kitty!) (at least in the Celestian ones)

Celest has lots of cats in, Razenth. It even has a lady who you can give cats too for her to keep them!

On a side note, I really like this story so far, Marani.

Marina .. Marani is that crazy overpowered woman who resides in Shallmurine

Lol Don't worry, Razenth. As the story progresses and climaxes, you'll find out what significance the bargest that "belongs" to shayle and the silver cat hold. As for why I'm writing, as a professional writer, I wanted a challenge. Boredom does that to you, once in a while. Keep reading. I promise you'll be shocked out of your socks when you find out what the "figure's" purpose is, why I mentioned Neerth, Catarin, Metea, Xenthos, Shamarah, Druken and Shayle in these stories, and just what exactly the two animals are up to.

I kept waiting for the hot Shayle/Xenthos love scene. What kind of fantasy writing is this, anyway?

Just like how Xenthos clim-...

Nevermind.