Chapter XVII
----------------------
Moments
----------------------

Darkness slipped over the horizon, its hands grasping hungrily at the ground.
The sky lay cloudless and barren, still aflame with a palette of crimsons, deep
purples, and earthy yellows. A crisp breeze played about the hands of Catarin,
who stood upon a jutting outcrop of the Razine mountains. Her eyes took in the
beauty of the Basin in all of its entirety, relishing the breeze and the coming
of a new spring. Before her, the ground dropped away to reveal a cliff that
stood as a sentinel above Dairuchi village. A cough brought from behind
brought her mind away from its solemn, quiet hymn and back to the world that
had taken her daughter from her.

"Catarin, we should go," came Anisu's voice, careful and quiet. Catarin didn't
turn around or make any movements to leave. Instead, she remained where she
was, letting the evening breeze pull about her in a game of tag among her
golden armor. "Catarin..,"

"I heard you, Anisu," she snapped, her temper rising and hissing within her.
"If you want to leave, you are more than welcome to. I, however, will remain
here until I am good and ready to leave." She felt a wash of startled fright
catch Anisu, replaced by an almost indignant anger. She knew her words would
strike and cause anger, but at this point, there wasn't more she could really
lose. Anisu started to apologize, but Catarin raised a hand. Raziela, give me
peace, she prayed to herself, but something within her spoke the words she was
too fearful to say. They say the pain gets easier to bear with time. No. It
just gets worse. Everywhere she turned, she saw her daughter. Every waking
hour, she saw Metea. In every dream and nightmare, she saw her. It almost
made life unbearable. Enough of that, she told herself. She's gone. That
final truth, even though it was all too true, seemed more like a lie every day.
The real truth was that she missed her lesser half; a little girl she had
raised and poured herself into.

"It is unnatural, Anisu," she said more to herself than to the person behind
her. Anisu blinked at Catarin's back, quirking an eyebrow.

"M'am?" Anisu asked, not understanding where this particular thought had come
from. Catarin turned her head to look at the faeling, her golden hair framing
her lineful face.

"A parent should never outlive their children. It is unnatural," Catarin
replied, her eyes full with the pain that wracked itself against her chest.
Anisu nodded slowly, tearing her eyes away from Catarin's. The pain held
within was far too much for her to see. She remembered a cheerful Catarin, who
would always bark out orders and then make a snide and satirical remark
afterwards. This person wasn't Catarin; not the woman she had grown fond of.
Anisu placed a hand on Catarin's nearest shoulder, pushing gently to move the
woman away from the cliff and towards a nearby road framed by slumbering rocks.
Catarin didn't fight; she let herself be guided away from the world's final few
moments of daylight and towards a road that held promises of more days and
nights, more moments and seconds, which would remind her of her little girl.

---------------------------------

Riding a wooden broom, Shayle watched Catarin leave. Her heart went out to the
woman, someone she didn't know until that night that Metea's life was traded for
one of her own Shadowdancers. The memory still clung to her mind, replaying
itself over and over as she tried to understand it. The more she thought about
it, the less she wanted to understand. And the less she wanted to see. It had
been almost a month and a half since that night that Metea gave herself up, a
sacrificial lamb, for the life of a man she didn't know. Afterwards, neither
the Night Coven nor Glomdoring could find the body. It was as if it had simply
disappeared among the shadows, a memory best left forgotten and buried. Buried,
Shayle thought to herself. The word rang so true and yet, so distant. The
attacks on the Night Coven had come to a halt, suddenly, recently. Though this
did little to alleviate the tension found in Faethorn, it did give her more time
to contemplate all that had happened in the past. Like a savior, Metea's death
had brought a time of peace that was too readily accepted. Her own novices
were training diligently to learn the magics and rituals of Mother Night, and
Xenthos was only too happy to help where he could. But at what price? Shayle
asked herself, watching what the last remnants of the golden armored woman who
had lost everything disappear down a stretching road.

"You are troubled, my child," whispered a voice from beside her, luscious and
perfumed with trace hints of rose. Viravain stood beside the Queen of the
Night, her long black hair swirling about her feet like shadows given life.
Shayle had oftentimes found herself marveling at the goddess' beauty, its cold
but warm glow and the ethereal grace held in each gesture and emotion. "You
are worried about the mortal, Catarin. Why?" Shayle turned her face to look
at the goddess, her broom shifting its weight automatically to support the
sudden movement. She saw an expression of curiosity on Viravain's face, one
that a child would have when first introduced to death, when they're told,
"They're just sleeping.".

"She has lost everything, and we gain everything," she replied quietly, her
voice alien to her own ears. Months prior, she would have held her emotions in
check and said that she was all right, but now; now was a different time. The
world was unfamiliar and surreal like a dream that refused to give way to
wakefulness. Before she could stop herself, the words poured out in
retaliation of her own will. "So much loss. I can almost feel it. It chokes
the life from her."

"You have lost many loved ones before, my daughter. Why would the loss of
someone you've never known bother you so?" Viravain asked, watching her
faithful servant closely with a dangerous inquisitive glint in her black eyes.

"I don't know. I can't explain it myself, my Lady. It confuses me and enrages
me, but it does not cease. Since that night that her daughter gave her own life
for Druken, I have contemplated why," came the reprieve, but somehow, Shayle
knew well enough that it didn't give justice to what truly haunted her.
Nodding her head, Viravain turned her head to stare off towards the sun as its
final moments hung on a distant horizon. Shayle didn't notice when the goddess
Viravain departed, nor was she surprised when she found herself staring off down
a road in the Razine Mountains at midnight. Time didn't bother her in her
meditation. It knew better than to break the musings of a woman who had seen
far too much but not enough at all.

------------------------------
Chapter XVIII: Dusk in Memory
------------------------------
The dawn yawned against the horizon, its face splashing against the remnants of
night. A lone bell resounded, its tone lonely in the awakening streets of
Celestia. Catarin stood at the highest point of the city, staring out over the
Golden Child of the Basin. Her face held years in its watch, quiet and
introspective like a woman who's seen too much to not know better. Footsteps
approached from behind, carrying with them a lingering perfume of rose and
cedar. The footsteps stopped just beyond a gurgling fountain, as if waiting
for her to turn and greet them.

"Yes, daughter. I know," she said quietly, her voice almost lost on a passing
breeze that played benignly with her hair. She didn't need to look to see a
mimicry of her face staring back at her. She knew it all too well. "You know
I won't let you do this." Catarin added with another thought, pressing her
will into the already full air.

"You don't have a choice, Mother," replied Metea, her face set in a stony and
emotionless guise. Catarin swung around and grabbed Metea's wrist, catching
her off-guard.

"I may not have a choice, but you do!" she screamed, her militia training
breaking at the onslaught of a temper that had been roaring within her since
the day Metea made her choice. "You're going to throw all of this away, all of
our family away, just so that you can follow a vision you had?! Are you
listening to yourself?!" Metea gave her mother an expression that a mother
might give her daughter upon hearing she had found an invisible friend. It
infuriated Catarin further, her hold on Metea's wrist tightening to the point
that she could feel the beat of a pulse beneath her white fingers. Metea
flinched beneath the pain, but she held her ground like a crazed martyr going
to their last battle. Just a few days ago, Metea had come to Catarin at the
city gates that faced the Serenwilde forest. Catarin could almost recall the
conversation as if it happened just a few moments ago. She found herself
staring back at the same face that had excitedly told her of a vision, one
where she was to give her life to save another. Catarin had thought Metea was
suffering from a heavy fever, so she called the city's best healers. They had
told her she was perfectly fine. She thought it had been sorcery that was
controlling her daughter, so she went to the Aquamancers and begged them to
intervene. They, too, studied Metea intensely but found nothing amiss.

"Mother, you have to let me go. Please," Metea whispered, her eyes filled with
a silent plea. Catarin felt her heart breaking at the corners, being ripped
apart, and she was totally powerless to stop it. Metea put her free hand on
Catarin's, pulling the grasp from her wrist but held onto the shaking hand. A
moment of silence passed, the dawn blooming on the horizon in its full
splendor. Below, in an awakening city of angels and light, Catarin was saying
her last good bye.

--------------------------------

A shadow passed the eyes of Barrin, causing him to flinch where he sat next to
a towering maple tree. He looked up to the sky, reading the clouds and looking
for omens. Even in winter, the Serenwilde forest was beautiful with differing
colors and hues of green mixing with the crisp smell of snow that danced along
a northern wind. Finding what he was looking for, he stood up and looked down
to the sleeping form of Tsuki and Bea, sprawled on top of one another like a
pair of napping cats that refused to give room to the other. He shook his
head, the comical image causing his lips to curl up into a bemused smile. Bea
stretched and yawned, her left arm flailing slightly and clunked Tsuki in the
back of the head. A muffled curse, along with a sour glare, was traded in
return for the rude awakening.

"There are easier ways of awakening people, you know," Tsuki spat, her large,
round doe-like eyes glaring menacingly at Bea. Bea coughed apologetically,
trying but failing to hide a bout of laughter. "Honestly, you're impossible."

"Now now, you two. Let us not awaken in a bad mood, shall we?" Barrin
interjected, startling Bea who was getting ready to climb a nearby apple tree.
Another muffled curse escaped the flailing girl, who found herself upside down
and her skirt covering the upper half rather than lower half, which it was
supposed to. Tsuki smirked to herself, exchanging a look with Barrin that said
"She's your daughter". He didn't have to be reminded, but the reminder was more
of a jab than a gentle word. If she became anymore like I was at her age, I'd
have to be concerned. Or at least, put a chastity belt on her and hide the
key. The latter thought made his skin crawl. Age was one thing. Being a
grandfather was a completely different thing. As if reading his mind, Tsuki
chuckled to herself while bringing two fingers up to her lips and gave a
piercing whistle. From the underbrush, a long, wooden broom came whizzing
towards Tsuki, who caught it deftly. She mounted the make-shift broom like a
horse, before the broom and she disappeared into the canopy overhead. It is
going to be another long day, Barrin thought sardonically to himself as he
watched his daughter climb the apple tree again, only to find herself in the
same position she was in just moments prior.

--------------------------------

In the distance, watching a man and a small girl stare up at an apple hanging
gingerly from a branch, a white cat and a barghest stood side by side. The
barghest's black fur contrasted strongly with the cat's white body like night
and day. The cat's ears twitched, its green eyes glowing with a preternatural
intelligence. The barghest turned and trotted towards the underbrush,
vanishing into a swarm of shadows that grabbed hungrily at it. A hiss escaped
the cat, its eyes on the girl in the distance. A disembodied laughter rang in
the air about the cat, effeminate and cold, before its freezing presence passed
from about the odd, white cat. It lingered for a few moments longer, tail
swishing back and forth temperamentally, before it turned and walked towards a
jutting road far off in the distance.

--------------------------
Chapter XIX: Frustration's Displeasure
--------------------------
TThe Glomdoring forest held its voice in stillness, as if halted, as the last
rays of sunlight grasped the horizon in a death grip. An echo howled through
the forest, shattering the sleeping dream like a hammer to glass. Soon, I will
need to get all this work I've accumulated truly done, came the thought of a
woman who stood on an ebonwood balcony. She watched the sky above, her deep
and mournful eyes taking in the twilight heavens in reverent silence. Her hands
grasped the railing before her, as the wind played a friendly game of tag along
the linen folds of a simplistic blackberry robe she wore. The ground far below
was littered with the already awakened creatures of the forest, their voices
muffled by the howls that ripped through the canopy like a banshee's orgasmic
scream. Little time did she have for their meandering deeds and situations.
Time had already decreed what it would have for her tonight, scroll upon scroll
piled on a dark ebonwood desk that sat glaring at her back.

A knock on her office door brought her attention back to the room, as a swift
curse left her mouth in a whisper to the fool who would dare interrupt the last
remaining minutes of peace she had for the night. She turned and made her way
to the desk, sitting herself in a large and overpowering blackwood chair. With
a deep breath, she called out for the intruder to enter. The door opened,
spilling the candle light from the long hall it hid into the room along with
the small frame of a faeling she instantly recognized.

"Please enter, novice," she said maternally, gesturing the girl towards one of
the two chairs that sat facing her. Cautiously, the Shadowdancer sat on a
chair opposite of Shayle, her eyes darting around the office in curiosity and
caution. Good, she's observant, Shayle noted as she sat herself regally in a
high back chair, folding her hands on her lap and hooding her eyes. The young
girl fidgeted for a moment, paying more attention to a fold in her off-white
dress than to the Queen of the Night that watched her closely. Nervousness.
You can't blame her, really, came a nagging voice in the back of her head,
before getting a mental shove back to where it belong in the depths of
reachless commentaries. "What brings you here, dear?" Shayle asked benignly,
all the while cutting the novice to shreds as she noted each and every detail
about her. A pair of lips, a shade of pale red, sat upon a pale face with
doe-like eyes that refused to look at her. Long locks of sandy brown framed
the oval face, adding an interesting dimension to the small girl's seemingly
meek demeanor. Shayle couldn't help but think her like a frightened doe, with
hands that refused to stop pulling at that fold in her dress.

"I wanted to know if there was a way I could help the Coven," the girl finally
asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Shayle perked an eyebrow
inquisitively, subconsciously leaning in to keep the girl at dagger's end.
The recent days had proven tiresome, Aurendil's death false as the woman had
been found just at the edge of Glomdoring with her arms tied around a tree and
nearly half-starved. Something was attacking the Great Forest of Glomdoring.
And more, my Shadowdancers, Shayle told herself. The girl, thinking that she
might have insulted the woman before her, quickly looked down and gave an
audible shudder of fear in her breathe.

"But of course. Let's see what we can have you do," Shayle said off-handedly
as she opened a small door at the side of the heavy desk and ruffled through a
few aged scrolls. "Ah, here we go." Shayle pulled out a wrinkled scroll that
had seen its better days in a much younger year. An imprint of Shadowdancers
sat on the upper-right edge of the scroll, three shadows forming an ever-moving
circle. She nodded to herself approvingly and handed the scroll to the novice.
"Take that and read through it. I would advise you to do everything on that
scroll if you truly wish to help the Coven." The girl's eyes flashed with
excitement and youth, quickly taking the scroll, unfurling it, and reading it
avidly. Shayle chuckled to herself, shaking her head at such youth. The
saying must be true, she told the nagging voice at the back of her mind that
was thrashing hand and limb to resurface, youth truly is wasted on the young.
With a final vindictive dunk beneath her thoughts, she sent the dying voice
back to the darkness it had surfaced from.

------------

A spring wind found itself keeping company with the Serenwilde trees, curving
and twisting about leaves and canopy. The dawn was quickly approaching, light
cascading down onto the ground below while life was beginning to awaken from
the winter's slumber. Bea was one of the first druids to awaken, her hair
amass on top of her head in tendrils of disheveled leaves and branches. She
stretched languidly, looking down to a sleeping doe that had curled up next to
her sometime during the night. It didn't move when she got to her feet, its
dreams holding tightly to its slumbering body. And where did you come from,
little one? Bea thought to herself, a gentle smile wrapping itself about her
features. She chuckled to herself, finding an old cudgel nearby that sat
propped up on ancient elm tree. With a wave of the cudgel, she said a small
prayer of protection on the ground about the doe. Nature rose to her call,
trees and the grass at her feet waving sentiently about the doe as a livid
green glow basked the sleeping doe in a warm and maternal embrace. Sensing the
spell's power and the life force of the forest answering her call, she turned
and looked towards a massive tree that jutted out of the canopy just a few
leagues south. And what adventures will you bring me today? As if in answer,
a spotted black and white rabbit poked its head out of a hole in front of her
and gave her an irritated look. Bea blushed at the silent scolding the rabbit
gave her before pulling itself back into its underground den. Good morning to
you too, Bea retorted but knew she had awoken the poor mother of a brand new
litter of young rabbits. Another long day. Bless Hart, one more day.

----------------------------
Chapter XX: The Coming Season
----------------------------
Catarin found herself plummeting into a nightmare, one that had been haunting
her every waking moment and continued its taunts in her sleep. Constantly, she
thought saw she her daughter at the edge of her vision, but when she looked, she
found nothing. It was like being constantly reminded of some sin one had done,
poking at a festering wound over and over again. The nightmare unfolded more,
revealing the night that Metea gave her own life so that a witch from the Night
Coven of Glomdoring might live. She could smell the dew on the grass, see the
night sky overhead, and the face of Shayle watching her with something kin to
shock and anger. She tried to push Metea away from the corpse that rested on a
large, tone slab, but by the time she got to her, she was gone as if never
there. Catarin found herself shooting up from her bed, her breath heavy and
her hands shaking. The tears came again, a mother's sorrow that knew no
bounds. And no ends.

------------------------------------

The Moonhart Circle found itself in an uproar, the High Priestess of the Moon
Coven glaring at the Serenguard Chieftain who sat across from her. The day had
been set ablaze with the appearance of the goddess Lisaera the night prior, and
now questions flung right and left along with accusations. Gods help me, this
isn't a circle. It is a firing squad, Tsuki thought grimly to herself. She
turned her head to look at Barrin and Bea who stood in the midst of the
circular table, Barrin holding his daughter close to him as she shook almost
uncontrollably.

"What do you propose we do, exactly?" Nejii spat, his fur rising on the back of
his neck. Tsuki looked at the Seneschal for a moment, thinking he looked more
like an angry, wet beaver than a furrikin. "We've no reports from anyone else
about this happening, and you expect us to believe that a cat and a barghest
just appeared in the northern Serenwilde Forest and attacked you both?"

"They didn't attack us! I told you that already. Lady Lisaera protected us,"
Bea shouted back, wringing herself from her father's embrace and facing him
with just as much anger and spite that he was giving them. "Are you even
listening to anything we've said?" Nejii stood and slammed his hands onto the
table, lowering his voice to an almost sinister whisper.

"Druid Barrin, perhaps you should teach your daughter to speak when she's
spoken to," Nejii growled, glaring at Bea who gave him the same glare in
return. Tsuki shook her head finally and stood, causing everyone to look
towards her. Her fae stood behind her, watching the chaos with something akin
to utter dismay.

"That is enough. All of you," she said clearly, raising her voice to overpower
those nearby. The room quelled and silenced itself to the point that a pin
would sound deafening if it hit the floor. "I believe the best thing we can do
now is consult the goddess' high priest." Barrin turned and smiled slightly at
Tsuki, quietly saying "Thank you". She nodded just enough for him to see the
silent reply. "If the goddess did truly appear and save these two, then the
Lady's high priest would surely know why and from what she protected them
against." The circle of people seemed to agree, as heads nodded and whispers
were given to those who sat beside them.

"All right. We will consult the Lady's high priest. After that, we will then
decide what to do," Nejii announced as he nodded his head towards Tsuki.
Miserable wet badger, she thought to herself, nodding and smiling towards the
Seneschal. Barrin and Bea turned and exited the Moonhart Circle, closing the
door behind them. Tsuki watched them leave, her heart going out to them. What
Nil have you gotten us into, old friend? she mused, as she turned her head to
look out a nearby window. Noon was upon the horizon, with the sun radiating
its warmth and light onto the basin. Let's pray that you know what you're
doing.
------------------------------------
An elderly woman appeared in the Divine Havens, her form swathing in the colors
of the twilight sky. A young girl wearing a cloak that shifted with living
color stood on her left. Fain turned from speaking to Viravain, watching them
with sudden shock. Viravain tilted her head, not quite sure what was going on.
From behind the two, a third appeared with a cloak made of the evening sky as
it shifted about her feet. Her face was stern but motherly, quiet but gentle.
The eldest woman stepped passed the two gods, with the others following suit
behind her. Isune came about a corner, her white wings glowing with innate
light, but stopped immediately upon seeing the three women. Her mouth fell
open and the glass vials she held in her hands fell, shattering to small pieces
as they hit the hard floor. They continued without speaking, save for a few
sniffles and tears that the smallest of the three tried to hide behind the
drape of her cloak. Finally, they came upon a large room with a rising dome
ceiling, several strands of light racing about like fireflies on far too much
kafe. Twelve doric columns rose into the heights above, creating a circle of
glowing white marble that vibrated with an intense amount of power. In their
midst sat Estarra upon a throne of glowing jade, her eyes going to the three
women. For a moment, she seemed surprised. She did not rise to meet them, nor
did she greet them with words or a nod of her head. They came towards her,
stepping up onto the dais that rose up towards the throne. Behind them, the
gods of Serenwilde, New Celest, Magnagora, and Glomdoring watched as they took
their seats in the Divine Havens. The eldest woman lowered the hood of her
cloak, and the other two did the same. Estarra watched them with a frown on
her lineless face, untouched by years or age.

"It is time," the eldest woman rasped, her voice sanding like sand rubbing
against stone. The words caused the youngest of the women to burst into tears,
hiding her face in her hands. Estarra nodded her head gravely, before she stood
and looked about the room.

"The Fates have come from where they have been since the dawn of the change,"
Estarra announced, her voice causing the very walls, floor, and ceiling of the
room to shudder. "You all know what must be done." Lisaera stood and looked
to the youngest of the women.

"Surely, there is another way. This is simply far too much. We've not even
the time to prepare," she pleaded, looking to Estarra with disbelief in her
eyes. Isune nodded in agreement, but Fain snickered audibly from his seat.

"I'm afraid not. The Fates have come here with their message, and they never
leave where they sow the seeds of life and death. If they come here and say it
is time, then we've no other choice," Estarra responded, her long brown hair
weaving about her in ethereal patterns. Lisaera shook her head sadly before
vanishing in a burst of silver light. Fain shrugged nonchalantly and vanished
from his seat in a choir of whispering voices, leaving Isune, Viravain, and the
other Elder Gods behind. Estarra turned to Viravain and nodded once, as if to
give a sign to begin. Viravain rose and vanished in a spiral of black rose
petals that rained down onto the ground.

"We will begin our parts. After that, the mortals must be given a choice," the
eldest whispered to Estarra, before turning and making her way towards the door.
The other two women followed in silence, as if in a funeral procession.
Estarra watched them leave, saying neither farewell nor good bye. Time was of
the essence now. Words were better left for far more happier occasions.