Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents

Synestra & Aria


Conclusion, Parts 71 thru 77
by Ikarias, Aria, & Lord Sirius

December 2004

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(Part 71 by Ikarias) --

A thick red carpet held firm under their feet as Firenzia took Sirius into her favorite demesne.

Figures swooped at them resolving into immense skeletal dragons, bones bleached from the violent air currents. Empty eye sockets accused them with glowering brows, pinions without the inner webbings had no trouble keeping the bodies hovering or banking. Mouths stretched high enough to swallow either of them standing. Black flames erupted at them from one persistent wraith and Firenzia laughed.

"Even as ghosts they still think they can harm me." The scent of cold ashes blew past them.

"How did you do it? The scaly pests are notoriously hard to kill."

"A judicious word here, a suggestion there. They made war on their own kind, stupid creatures. I think that one disturbed a volcano. Dim-witted lizard."

Sirius nodded and stood easily, her hands clasp behind her back. The strand hung unused from Firenzia's hand, the black hair entangled between her fingers.

They dropped through wine-stained clouds to see a vast mountain range stretch across the horizon. White blotches stood out here and there growing larger as they drew closer.

Sirius saw the mountains more defined as they went lower. Crevasses dropped between gnarled peaks, scarps shed crumbled hunks of incarnadine granite. Darker areas in the pallid lumps resolved into eyeholes horse-high and enormous mouths yawned wide. Giants' skulls sat imbedded in the stone, striped of flesh and features but still with their maws agape as if in their thousands they screamed.

"Ah, so that was the outcome of the Colossus Wars." Sirius followed the pale uneven line of heads into the infinite distance. "I recall studying that quarrel."

Firenzia's eyes lit up, "What did you think of it?" Clearly, she had underestimated Sirius's age, and her interest in the dark arts. This woman held so many fascinations.

"The undertaking certainly kept the mess from littering the landscape," Sirius winked at the smaller woman.

*****

B'sylla felt her feet touch on terra firma. She hoped this solid ground stayed that way, though in this anthology of Hells, nothing could be taken at face or even at bare bones value. She let Synestra feel the rock under them as well but she didn't let go of the High Priestess. Something happened within the Bloodwynd and she thought the smaller woman still might need the comforting contact.

"You can open your eyes, we've stopped moving."

Synestra felt a bit silly, hiding her face like a child in her mother's skirts, though tucking it into B'sylla's bosom wasn't a bad place to be either. The albino's steady hands on her shoulders felt so good. She felt whole, warm, and clean. Whatever had touched them in the Wynd's passage had left no residue. Synestra took a deep breath and leaned back. She saw a rough passage between swaths of stunted thorny growth. A castle emerged from the distance as if growing out of a carnelian mountain. A multitude of towers rose in twisting ribbons of onyx and jet.

"Book knew," B'sylla spoke softly, looking in the same direction. "He made the Bloodwynd carry us here."

"That'sss Her cassstle isssn't it?" Synestra looked into B'sylla's eyes for confirmation, finding a deep comfort in the red gaze.

"Yes. Even here, She couldn't keep her vanity from duplicating what she had on the other side. Ikarias is there."

"I feel Aria'sss presssenccce alssso." Synestra looked away from the keep, scrutinizing the albino's features.

"What is it?" B'sylla felt confused by the way Synestra examined her.

The High Priestess wore an odd smile, "I don't know why, but you're younger. You feel young too. I'd hazzzard two decadesss and no more. When you firssst ssshowed up at the lodge, you appeared thrice that age with your uneven gait and your conssstant pain. In the attic, after ssstaying Aria's hand from murder, you regresssed to a regal two ssscore. Now I feel like an ancccient nexxxt to you. I'd asssk you to tell me your sssecret but I'm afraid to know."

"It is not my doing. If I knew, I would tell you."

"Fair enough. Ssshall we go?"

B'sylla nodded.

Synestra smiled and flexed her hand with the marble spots, she held the ex-basilisk's hands in hers and prayed.

"Hyzzzperzzzia guide our sssteps. Guide our heartsss to your work. Blesss the enemy that through them we may come clossser to your perfection."

******

The hall was as Aria remembered, alternating tiles three paces to a side in black and white like some giant game tiles or when seen on edge as chiseled teeth in gaping maws. Aria suppressed a shudder; she preferred the innocuous chessboard look.

Aria approached her sister with a bittersweet mixture of longing and trepidation. Most of her childhood, if not forgotten, was remembered neither fondly nor with longing. Aria had made peace with her inner self, but being here at the family home, visiting her father… There were few less painful memories she wanted to relive.

"No hug for the prodigal daughter, Meli?" Aria opened her arms.

Meli may have looked happy to see her sister but the stiffness of her body in the return embrace had less hardness of steel and more hardness of soul in it.

She looks like a goddess of war, thought Aria. The tunic under the chainmail was of pale gold linen, the same color as Meli's hair. Her white satin surcoat bore a two-headed griffon in gold holding swords in claws and wings, with each sword piercing a heart, which dripped blood. Her sister's body was slender, few curves showed, only the hardness of a life at war came through.

"How are Mother and Father? Are they well?"

Meli glanced out the two-tier window over Aria's shoulder with a thin smile before ushering her into the second smaller hall.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same. Father still enjoys little girls, he always liked to start his 'First Night droits' when they're six or seven. Mother, what can I say, you can lead a whore to water, but you cannot make her think. She hasn't changed a bit, still looks down on everyone else."

Through that hall, past a dim corner that inspired another satisfied smile, Melisande spared a glace to the flagstaff leaning into darkness impaling the head of an older blonde woman with a marked resemblance to the fair-haired sisters, mouth agape in displeasure, or perhaps this time, in horror.

Aria winced at the mention of Father and his penchant but allowed her sister to keep guiding her into the central foyer that branched to the rest of the castle. She felt surreal, nothing felt right, but nothing felt wrong. Out of all her family, she really did admire Meli for her independence and need to break away, 'til now. She felt a myriad of emotions as she stood surrounded by the grand furniture, expensive tapestries, and the priceless trappings afforded only to the insanely wealthy.

At a table whose silken cloth displayed enough food to feed a good sized town for a month, Melisande sat in the end chair, offering Aria the right hand seat by the salt.

"Tell me about yourself." Meli took a small paring knife and a green apple. "What have you been doing all these years?"

"That will not be as easy as it sounds. After I left here, my life took some rather interesting turns." Aria saw and dismissed the quails eggs, bream in sherry, a swan roasted and reinserted into its own skin with feathers, the obligatory gutted boar surrounded by brandied fruits, the cornucopia of sweet rolls and strawberries, the joints of venison slathered with onion sauce and garlic, and the score of other overdone edibles. Even her favorite, marzipan just didn't have the hold it once did. Meli dropped the green peeling, done in one continuous very thin precise cut and inclined her head for Aria to go on.

Aria shrugged and tried to sanitize as best she could, "I was, how shall I say, a mercenary, before finding my heaven on earth."

"A mercenary in what sense?" Meli dissected small slivers out of the white flesh, not eating any of them.

"Mercenary in the murder for hire sense, my dear." Aria didn't doubt that Meli had known quite a few of her kind. Damn few armies were a hundred percent conscripted or volunteer. Sellswords filled in the gaps.

A sliver thin enough to read through slipped off the blade. Meli put knife and fruit down, wiping meticulously with a napkin as if to get something worse than juice off her slender fingers. "I see. You killed for money."

Aria ignored the disdainful tone, "For money, for revenge, for the advancement of a select few. Surely you understand that little device."

Melisande ignored the goad, "Did you think it could cleanse the sins of our Father? Could it erase your shame?"

"No, dear sister, they have not yet invented a soap for that. I did it simply to pay the bills, and to allow me to control my own destiny for a change." Aria was unapologetic. She looked casually about the room, at the ostentatious fripperies and meaningless collections of jeweled goblets, mosaics of precious stones, statues done in ivory and gold, and the myriad of other meaningless useless dusty wealth. Everything she had hated and left ten years ago and more.

"I am appalled."

If Aria had been drinking, she definitely would have found liquid in her sinuses. Not at the words but at the presentation, Meli's tone was exactly like their mother's.

"Why, sister dearest?" Aria refused to be lectured by someone still living off the largesse due her station and birth. "I would think a prostitute would find an assassin to be an appropriate sibling."

"You're calling me a prostitute? How dare you. I have never accepted money for the common act of sex." Meli's voice took on the low tone she used just before eviscerating an enemy.

"Haven't you, sister? Who pays for your lodgings, the fine clothes on your back, your travels, and your armies?"

"Why, Father, of course."

"Point made." Aria interlaced her own fingers, forearms resting on the table edge.

"I never waged war for profit, I enlightened the heathen to the error of their ways. I never accepted plunder, I forbade looting on pain of death. Father paid because that's what he owed me, that's what he owed us all for the filthy…"

Meli took a calming breath. Someone of her sister's ilk passing judgment on a holy warrior was absurd, not even worth her ire. What did matter was the purpose for her sister's visit, and the consequences if she failed that mission. Melisande rose, speaking in a placating manner.

"You were brought back to us for a reason. You are my sister, of my blood. Forgive my rashness; I have been among savages for so long I have forgotten my family duties. Come, let me show you something."

"You always knew the special places." Aria nodded without forgiving or forgetting. She still wanted answers and if it meant humoring Melisande, she could coat her tongue with honey as well as any lackey. Aria pushed back her chair and stood, wondering what Meli was up to.

The armored woman ascended a spiral staircase that Aria could not for the life of her remember being in the western corner. An iron-banded door stood open to a wide circular tower room--of a tower that never existed. On the floor lay a wide round slab, knee-high with five straps, assorted knives hung over a table along with less identifiable sharp things. A brazier with several irons spat low smoke from hissing coals.

The door closed behind both of them of its own accord.

"My dear Aria, once you have endured the Rite of Purification you can stay with us forever. We can make you whole, cleanse your soul of filth and impurities." Melisande held out her arms, imploring.

"You're absolutely right." Aria stepped into her sister's arms for the last time. She stiffened the fingers of her left hand and jammed them hard under Meli's chin while with her right she quickly withdrew the older woman's sword.

"You never called me by my given name." Aria held the sword level to Melisande's chainmail covered heart. "That's one." She backed to the door and pulled at the handle with her free hand. It stuck.

"Aria? What are you saying?" Meli gruffly responded massaging the painful spot, looking wounded to the soul

"That name I chose in secret, long after you fled for the comfort of offering innocents the choice of 'convert or die'. That name I used, professionally and now publicly. You may have diverted strangers to lip-service to whatever you pretend to worship but why bother to change the course of the mountain stream that fills the castle wells, and move old trees? That's two. I know our home as well as you. We never had a western tower. The bedrock wasn't kind to tunneling attempts for even the secondary stables, plus taking that out would undermine the supports. That's three. Father left shortly after you did, at Mother's behest. She swore that while she lived he'd never see the throne again. Giles was supposed to have had it but he-- died, suddenly. So, either one parent or both are dead. That's four reasons why you're lying to me. You're not my real sister, and this isn't home."

The armored woman snapped her fingers and an identical sword appeared in her hands. "You need to be chastised, Aria, whatever you choose to call yourself now doesn't change the truth. You're a filthy murderer. You abandoned your family and your duty. This is your only chance for your soul to be saved." Meli waved a hand at the waiting straps and accoutrements. "Slash and burn."

____****____

(Part 72 - by Ikarias) --

The red flying carpet slowed at Firenzia's will as the two supernatural women spotted a castle jutting from a mountainside.  Impossibly tall towers in spirals of black and white like warped unicorn horns pierced the maroon clouds.  Far below, two tiny figures moved in the courtyard.

"I see my invited pests have arrived.  The lizard bitch is going to get quite a shock.  Pardon me while I change."

Firenzia nodded and the gauzy attire she had worn for the golden sacrificial empire vanished.  Nude on her left side, her right was now completely covered in a single piece of form-fitting skin made of overlapping fine jade scales.  Her own eye looked from the right eyehole, the thin strong skin fitted perfectly over her ear, about her cheek and half of one lip.  It following the twists and turns of chin and throat.  It clung about her arm, to her breast, over her ribs, her hip and one buttock, fitting her thigh, calf and about each toe on her right foot as if painted on.  The sorceress pressed the fingers tighter about her right hand and realized the cat's cradle strand was still about them, preventing a perfect fit.  A little something to remember Sirius by, Firenzia smiled to herself.  She'd take it off later.  She felt other strong fingers pressing down the back of her head, one on scales, one on hair, then down to her neck and slowly down her spine, touching both kinds of flesh, old and borrowed.

"Fits you like a glove," Sirius's voice came out in a lust-filled growl.  Time to give this heartless ignorant twit just what she wanted, no skin off Sirius's teeth.  So that wasn't quite accurate, in either case.  Firenzia totally missed the litany of colors in the worlds they perused.  Working backwards through the veils to her own red beginnings was not wise at all.  She ignored the extremely personal significance of their play and the item making it up.  Sirius would enjoy herself for a bit then leave this foolish little excuse for a sorceress and move on to more imperative matters, like refilling her Oolong tea tin.

"Messes with my hair, but we all have to make sacrifices."  Firenzia rolled her shoulders knowing exactly how well the scales fit, holding to every curve, every swell and declivity.  Remarkable how that girl had been exactly her size.  Serendipitous and convenient, just the way Firenzia liked them.

"Mind if I slip into someone more comfortable?"

The dark woman's body pressed into Firenzia's.  One hand came forward to hold the smaller form, the second slipped down where the two skin halves met.  Something else probed and Sirius smiled as the half-clad girl lifted one leg for easier access.

"Can I look?"  Firenzia groaned, arching back for more contact, feeling skin against skin, letting drop the 'chain her and take her' idea.  That could be done later in several varieties.  Having Sirius do this now, in front of Aria--oh, that would be too delicious for words.  Nothing like seeing the pathetic excuse for an assassin, aghast at her erstwhile lover rutting with the premier power in this world and several others, to crush what was left of her spirit.  Semele's little personal conflagration at the sight of Zeus in his unabashed state would definitely pale in comparison.

"Soon," Sirius promised, pressing forcefully into the Sorceress' center. 

As long as Sirius stayed behind her, in her place, this would do very well indeed.  Firenzia adored mixing pleasure with pain, that is, her pleasure with another's pain.  The rug flew at a more leisurely pace; the castle grew closer.

*****

Above the struggling women, sitting in an alcove, the poppet smacked its cloth hands in glee.  Aria and Ikarias dueled carefully as each saw only an enemy she didn't really want to kill.

"All I have to do is wear you down," Nuiet suddenly switched hands, the sword now in her left as she stabbed under Ikarias' right arm. 

Ikarias kept her breathing steady, not wanting to give even a spare breath for speech to the Death Goddess. 

Aria's breath came faster.  Melisande's smile grew at the increased exertion despite the new wound.  "Have you practiced for hours a day, every day for years?  Have you used a sword deemed too unwieldy, too heavy for your grasp so that your wrists would be as strong as any man's upon the battlefield?  Have you fought past exhaustion, past thirst, past hunger, past all bodily desires except that of keeping the sword between you and death?"

"Do not discount my abilities, un-sister, whatever you are.  I just want to leave, I don't want to kill you."  Aria tried to keep her distance and make the taller woman work harder. 

Tossing her own sword right hand to left, Ikarias managed a slice across an aristocratic cheek and a second across her ribs.  This time the robe did tear.  Nuiet grimaced and pressed on.

"A Goddess doesn't need to rest," Nuiet smiled, confident of victory.  Her shoe heels clicked like tiny hammers on the stone tiles, her footing never slowed or wavered.

"I've learned from the best," Aria snarled at the double shallow cuts, one on her cheek, the other on her ribs.  At very few times in her life had Aria ever been thankful for Chaenz' lessons, incongruously, this was one of them.  Then again, in hell anything can happen, including gratitude to a megalomaniac killer with both a rich singing voice and eidetic attention to damaging detail.  Aria dove into a full body roll, twisting to cut deep behind Meli's leg before regaining her feet.

"I've killed the best, you little fool."  Meli staggered, turning to face the smaller woman.  Blood oozed under her chainmail and the top of her left greave pressed right below that last gash, increasing the discomfort and the blood loss.

"Are you really a goddess or just that sorceress' tool?"  Ikarias toppled a suit of armor into Nuiet's path as she staggered back, trying to get away.  That clatter and clanking as the display fell apart did momentarily drown out the pitter-patter of little immortal feet in high heels.  Ikarias had to admit she'd never try to duel in footgear like that. 

Aria knocked the brazier over, spilling coals over Melisande's feet.  She used those seconds to get to the door again and pulling it open, she hurried down the stairs and outside. 

Ikarias hobbled as fast as she could through the hall and into the main courtyard.  Since Nuiet had changed the castle, there was no heavy portcullis to move.  I think I preferred Cerberus, good dead doggy.  Ikarias thought grimly. 

She looks like my sister, whatever else she might be.  Dead or alive, here or wherever, I can't just kill her.  Aria hated to do it but being an assassin, ex or not, it wasn't about playing fair.  She found a likely looking spot and fell heavily to one knee, not all of it an act.

Meli limped over, her sword raised.

Ikarias saw the goddess fallen but not down.  How she got out here first, Ikarias didn't bother to try to figure out.  She had to stop Nuiet; stop her before she lost all strength to find Aria.  Ikarias' sword dropped as her leg gave out. 

Armor clashed softly as Melisande fell before Aria could toss sand in her face and blind her.

The weakness only half a ruse, the swords slid passed each other and connected.

"Let me find Ikarias/Aria in peace."  Each one said.

"Ssstop!"

"Aria!  Ikarias!"

B'sylla and Synestra rushed over to the two battered bleeding women.

"Ssstop trying to kill eaccch other!"  The High Priestess knocked the swords out of each hand with a rapid pinch/slap on each of the women's thumb joints.

Aria looked surprised, Ikarias was confused then relieved.

"She's making you see things," B'sylla explained as she tore her skirt into strips for bandages. 

Aria watched two Synestra's scold her and why was B'sylla wrapping Meli's leg with scales?  Aria blinked a couple of times.  If that really was Ikarias then why was Iky trying to ruin her best pink silk blouse?  Not that there was much left to ruin.  Her dress to distress ensembles were growing much too quickly.  

"You're not a goddess," Ikarias sat down hard, her brows furrowed.  Had Nuiet even been here?

"That's not what you said last time we met," Aria shook her head and smiled at Ikarias grinning back at her.

"How did you get here?"  Ikarias asked B'sylla, grimacing as a second bandage went tight about her left shoulder. 

"Where's Book?"  Aria stood looking into Synestra's eyes, seeing the woman looking older, and subtly changed.

Synestra daubed at the cuts on Aria's face.  She looked to B'sylla and sighed.  "Book, Theranoch, brought usss here, over to thisss realm.  He knowsss this placcce.  He made the Bloodwynd deposssit usss here, sssafely acrosss the Occcean of the Damned."

"But it took him," B'sylla added as she helped Ikarias stand up.  "Tore him right out of our hands.  I tried to hold him but the Bloodwynd was too strong."

Aria felt her heart drop out.

Ikarias staggered upright and hugged the small assassin as the blonde wiped away a tear.  "He was one of the good ones.  I wish I'd known him longer."

Nodding, Aria stepped back.  "I've learned to heal myself here.  Just wish it, believe it and you'll stop bleeding all over me.  I know I didn't do all this to you."

"You're good but not that good.  That hand switch is new but I still would have beat you," Ikarias wished hard and felt her wounds close.  She kissed Aria on the forehead.

"I am too that good.  You dream on, my dearest scaled one."  Aria had closed her own wounds as well, though she still felt them.  She hugged Ikarias tighter.

"Ssspeaking of nightmaresss, can we leave now?"  Synestra interrupted their banter.

B'sylla felt a glacier cover her.  Something was terribly wrong.

"Not while you draw one painless breath." 

At that voice, the four women turned as one.

____****____

(Part 73 by Ikarias) --

A handspan above the courtyard, a red carpet floated, its tassels rippling in an unfelt breeze. Dust roiled out from under the thick weaving. Standing upon it was a slight figure, one hand to her heart trapping a wealth of long pale wavy hair. Half her nymph-like body was nude, the right side covered from crown to sole in scales of varying hues of jade, absorbing the red unsetting sun. Her beatific face had a languorous expression as the young woman leaned back into a black amorphous shape that cradled her upright. Tendrils of that blackness wrapped about both thighs and pulsed in and out of her core.

Ikarias stood stunned.

Aria saw a smaller mirror version of her Half-Dragon bending as if being penetrated by whatever that thing was attached to her like a fuliginous mildew.

"Firenzia." B'sylla felt the air empty from her lungs with that name.

Synestra clenched her marble spotted left hand.

"What are you two doing here?" The sorceress rocked as Sirius filled her, took her higher and higher. Why were her basilisk hag and that snake woman here? Ikarias being numb to all but the sight of her in her new outfit was very good. However, Aria's face wasn't nearly as shocked as Firenzia would have liked. Something was amiss. She would straighten that out right after Sirius finished servicing her.

B'sylla raised her hand to the still-fresh scar over her heart.

"You've got something I want." The sorceress moved her hips faster as she leveled her gaze at the young-looking albino. B'sylla stood straight, the bone cane nowhere to be seen or felt. What was going on?

"They're here to kill you." A satisfied low tone came from behind the sorceress in a nonchalant manner that all heard quite clearly.

Firenzia felt Sirius suddenly withdraw just before an exquisite climax.

"You dare--" she spun around not seeing the dark woman but a hovering obscurity with five glowing eyes. Each orb held a separate shape and intensity, all watched her with amusement as they revolved in the sooty translucent cloud.

Laughter spilled from the black flames, mocking Firenzia. A flickering obsidian tongue of fire swiped between her legs then a vulgar extended spitting sound came from it. "Been there, done that. Not very impressive the first time and it certainly hasn't improved with age."

"You--you swore neither you nor yours! None of your kind! You cannot go back on that promise!" Energy crackled off the petite semi- scaled body. Each scale sparked impotently and was absorbed harmlessly into the midnight fire. Firenzia slapped at where a face would be if a face existed at all in this being. Only eyes oozed about filled with amused contempt, just like the first time they met five thousand years ago.

"I am the twist in every mind
I can make the worlds unwind
I am the fang and the sharpest claw
And I am the horror that feels like awe.
I am the lightning beneath the thunder
I can tear your heart asunder
I feed the beast whom death cannot kill
I taste the joy of fear with a thrill.
I dance over the heads that roll
I am the scourge on the blackest soul
I gave power that was never thine
I always take back that which is mine.

"They are none of my doing. Goodnight sweet princess, may flights of daemons scream you to your rest." Scornful laughter vibrated the very stones at their feet. The eyes looked nonchalantly away, their expressions all of boredom. The flames dispersed.

How did the black flame creature know of their plans? Synestra gripped B'sylla's arm, but the albino didn't move.

Why did Firenzia look like Ikarias' twin? Aria also wondered how and from where did that raven dark fog know the sorceress? Who or what would have that kind of power to dismiss her like a two-dinar whore? Book, where are you?

"Enough of that polluted gasbag." Firenzia stepped off the carpet as it folded into steps. She addressed the four women. "First things first."

"Shazria?" Ikarias moved one bare foot forward, then the other. Everything screamed impossibility, but her heart and soul wanted so badly to believe.

"Hear no evil," Firenzia smiled and pointed past the Half-Dragon at Aria and spoke into her mind. For your part, you will watch as your friends suffer for your inadequacies, personal and professional. Your whining brought them here, watch them break for your folly. This is only the beginning of your pain; enjoy it while you can.

The assassin's mouth opened in a silent scream, her hands clapped to her ears as blood trickled through her fingers. She fell to her knees while piercing shrieks echoed in her brain.

"Speak no evil," the sorceress snapped her fingers at Synestra. Prayers are only as good as the tongue reciting them, all those sonorous wheedling tones. Your deity must be thanking me right now for removing your lisping earsore from her temples. Can't bilk the dubious dumb congregations from their offerings of kine and kin without the proper garrulous greedy pleas. Speaking is tongues is highly over-rated, try sign language.

The High Priestess' mouth drew wide forced by unseen hands. Her tongue extruded, the quivering tips were held taut then abruptly pulled apart. Synestra's scream came out choked on her own blood; her hands couldn't stop her mouth from going wider. A strangled cry came as she fell forward; two narrow red lengths plopped out. Pitiful moans came from the snake priestess, her hands pressed against her lips as the blood flowed through them.

Ikarias saw her sister, just as she had last seen her so long ago, but why didn't she speak? Why didn't she say something? Anything?

B'sylla slowly shook her head. She was helpless, helpless to save Aria, Synestra, or even Ikarias. She could not stop the doom that descended on them in Firenzia's hell. They were lost, forever.

"I guess the hotsprings really do work. I don't know why or how but you look like a twenty-year old." Firenzia's smile grew broader. "You know what that that means. Mine." Absentmindedly, the sorceress tried to scratch beneath the scales where the hair from Sirius twitched and moved as if still alive.

B'sylla felt the scar over her heart twitch and throb. "I destroyed the scales." She tore open her robe revealing a burned patch to a disappointed Firenzia.

"So you did. Did you think that's all I want? There's something else that you owe me. Or have you forgotten, little basilisk?" Firenzia clapped her hands together once. The sorceress pointed at both of the albino's hands with her own and raised them to eye level.

"See no evil. This time I'll let you do the honors. Try not to damage them too much." There's no escaping your destiny as my slave, my useful eyeball supplier. Don't worry, in a score of years you'll be good as new. Maybe I'll only make you take one out, I'll get the other. Care to pick your preference now? Right or left, choose quickly darling, so I can mark it in my journal. It'll be a very important appointment between places to go and people to see…

Synestra watched in horror as B'sylla's unwilling hands mirrored Firenzia's clawing motions with an excruciating small difference in detail.

The albino dropped helpless to her knees, black ichor streaming from her empty sockets. Her hands shaking, they closed protectively about their precious burdens. Dark blood dripped from between her fingers. She would not give them up, not easily.

____****____

(Part 74 by Ikarias) --

"Ikarias, please help me." Finally Shazria spoke!

"Anything, goddess, I've missed you!" Ikarias embraced her sister, held her tight. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing that you can do, nothing that anyone can do." Shazria sobbed in her twin's arms.

In the past decade, Firenzia had discovered one other method that would work. All she needed was a little cooperation from the Half- Dragon. The strand kept moving. Firenzia tried to push the meaning of that irritation from her hand and her mind. Neither worked.

"Ask, ask me!"

"I'm dying. I need, I need your scales."

Ikarias stepped back and went down on one knee, holding her sister's hands. "So many times I vowed to give anything to have you back. They're yours. All of them."

Oh the touching self-sacrifice. Firenzia doubted the lizard woman would stay conscious long enough to do the entire job but all she needed was to have the underside of the scales touch her. Ikarias would feel herself peel like a scallion as Firenzia's couture completed itself. Once the scales were whole the itching must stop, it had to!

Synestra crawled over to B'sylla. She touched one wet dark cheek and took the albino's hands in hers bringing them to her lips.

Aria didn't know how much agony hearing could be, if she could go deaf she would call it a blessing. But this, this shrieking so strident in such discord, barely anything else got through any of her other senses. Squinting she had seen Synestra rendered mute and B'sylla gouged out her own eyes. Now Ikarias was kneeling to that figure that looked like her sister, but couldn't be.

A flensing knife appeared in Firenzia's hands. Synestra saw Ikarias nod and take the blade. She angled it and grunted at the first cut.

B'sylla opened her fingers, pressing the slippery contents into Synestra's hands. "Quickly," she whispered. She looked up with sightless vision feeling something large descend.

Synestra stood and swallowed hard several times. The small slick globes went down and stayed. She would not lose them to bodily weakness or revulsion. Not now. She couldn't afford to.

Shazria would live! All she had to do was cut a little deeper. Ikarias ignored the blood soaking her chest. The blade was sharp; she'd been hurt worse. Little black dots spun before her eyes, but it didn't matter. She could ignore them. She fell back as something swooped down on her carrying the faintest hint of northern climes and the dry familiarity of the Lost Sands. The knife fell from her hand unheeded, she stared up into the burgundy sky seeing a piecemeal figure diving at her. It looked so familiar the way the wings curled and dipped, even if they were just bone and tatters.

Damn that ice dragon ghost! Firenzia swore impotently. What kind of hell was this if even the dead couldn't be expected to stay quietly dead? Her second half was near to passing out and that stupid priestess slut was wobbling like she had boils on her toes and fleas up her ass and couldn't stay still.

"Hissy fit much?" Firenzia sneered at Synestra. "Why don't you be a good little snaky and play dead?"

"Father?" Ikarias slowly stretched out a bloody hand to the sky.

Synestra stumbled forward another step shaking her head. Hyzzzperzzzia give me ssstrength. B'sylla blind, Aria deaf, so much blood. Something pulled her own pain from her mouth, as if by swallowing the eyes she took the qualities of marble within herself. Stone feels no pain. What do I do now?

"I can't hear you darling. Try enunciating clearly," Firenzia laughed pointing at her lips.

Aria felt like retching seeing what Synestra did. She gasped and stood, forcing her hands down from her bleeding ears. B'sylla saw something in the sky. Aria knew that even if the albino had no eyes. What had happened to Chaenz with the eye? Oh, dear goddess, not Syn, not her. The snake priestess' red braids turned white at the tips as the marble began encroaching on her flesh.

Synestra shuddered feeling the eyes work their magic. She didn't know how much time she would have, how much strength. Help me, B'sssylla. It'sss hard inssside, I can't, can't…

"Help me, Ikarias. I need you."

The Half-Dragon rolled to her side and got to one knee hearing her sister begging for aid. She moved like a stone sledge, slow but steady to her death.

Synestra held her hands out for balance, staggering toward Firenzia from the side.

Hurry Aria, Aria startled at B'sylla's voice in her mind. Help Synestra touch the sorceress.

"Let your scales feel mine, hold me, then I'll be whole and safe. Please." On the back of Firenzia's torso, the edge of the scales peeled out by a finger's width like delicate scalloped lace quivering with the unworldly breeze that still tickled the flying carpet. She watched Synestra stagger toward her.

"In the flesh before you is a real goddess. Whatever you think your creatrix is, priestess, she is nothing compared to my power. Behold your nemesis, and the undoing of all you care for and love."

Ikarias shook her head trying to get rid of the dizziness. She pulled the left side of her scaled skin away from the exposed muscle beneath. Shazria needed her, so be it.

"You can't hurt me, Priestess, I'm invincible. You couldn't even kill a flea. What's that you say? Cat got your tongue? Ah, silly me, no, it's just lying at your feet in two pieces collecting dust." Small lightnings crackled over Firenzia's un-scaled left side.

Synestra's eyes pleaded with Aria, the two mutilated women held each other for support.

B'sylla's head turned as if keeping track of something.

Ikarias' fingers slipped on her own blood as she pulled at the flap of skin, grunting to keep it open.

____****____

(Part 75 by Ikarias) --

Make her as heartless as she is to others.

Hearing those words in her mind, Synestra turned in Aria's arms and looked back at B'sylla. The marble spread further inside her and covered her left palm up to the first joint of all the fingers. She could still move it though the rest of her body felt stiff and unwieldy.

You, my dearest friend supported in my hands are the making of her undoing. Indeed, Synestra was the strangest weapon Aria ever held. Once again, I am an assassin though I don't know how to do this task. I so dread the cost to you, my dear one. All Aria knew, was that she had to get Syn to touch Firenzia. She prayed for Synestra's sake that her sacrifice would not be in vain.

"Aria darling, you're leaking," Firenzia laughed at the spreading stains on the sides of the blonde's head. "What, you can't hear me? Help Miss Hiss call upon her slithering goddess. Snakes don't have feet do they? Completely superfluous since they crawl so happily on their bellies. You priestess, could be just like your much vaunted deity. Yes, hold her up, Aria; she won't have any feet in the next few moments. I think I'll reduce them a toe at a time." She waved her itching burning fingers, drawing on that frustration. It wasn't like she could take the skin off. Soon, soon she'd be invincible, away from these wretched whores, burn this damned hair twisting tight around her fingers, and quench those five eyes in their own flames.

Synestra grunted with new pains. She looked down to her feet to feel the big toe on each gone, blood soaked the front of both shoes. Every step continued the circulation releasing small surges of fresh blood. She moaned and stumbled again feeling two more toes gone, the littlest ones.

I can do this. You are our hope, I will not lose you, Aria swore, lurching under the increasingly unsteady woman. The vibrations in her ears felt like her head was splitting across the top like a ripe melon dropped on paving stones. Thin searing needles pressed in each ear and the world tilted at angles beyond even Euclid's geometry. She felt a drop of blood trickle from inside her nose to her lip. She saw that Ikarias still wore the same stunned expression.

"Come priestess, pray to me instead of Hissy-prissy-sissy what's her name," Firenzia urged Synestra. She arched an eyebrow. "Then again, I'm not sure you'd make a proper acolyte. You should be without blemish, not dropping parts like an untidy leper. Toes here, a tongue there. That makes you either stupid or careless. You wouldn't even make a decent housekeeper. What? Speak up, we can't hear you can we Aria?"

Iky! Don't touch her, keep away from her. She's not who you think she is. Please don't touch her! Aria dared not speak aloud, anything she said the sorceress would hear, no matter that she was completely deaf.

Every step Synestra took, her shoes squelched. The marble now spread to the second joint on her hand.

"Ikarias, help me, protect me."

The Half-Dragon, blind and deaf to all but the directions from the sorceress, took another step. Blood welled from throat to stomach from the deep cuts.

"Shazria, sister…"

"Clumsy aren't you snake priestess? Even B'sylla can see you tripping over your own feet. What's left of them," Firenzia turned her back to Ikarias, confident in her borrowed guise.

B'sylla rose to her feet, glaring defiantly, as if she still had the wherewithal to do so, with sunken hollows at the sorceress. Black blood dried to sticky patches on her cheeks.

"Hold me Ikarias, let me feel my beloved sister's arms about me."

Two hands rested on Firenzia's shoulders, scales on flesh, flesh on scales. Ikarias watched unfeeling as Aria and Synestra crept closer. Beads of perspiration sprang up on Aria's face and arms.

"Feeling a little warm, assassin? Balefire does that, bastes you from the inside out. You've got a few minutes left to enjoy your peaches and cream complexion. I'd tell you more but it would ruin the surprise. Let's just say you'll provide a good reading light for centuries."

Firenzia could feel the body heat from the Half-Dragon. So close, her revenge and her quest both within kissing distance. A perfect ending to a perfect day.

"You dare to approach a goddess? Pray for mercy, priestess. If not for yourself, then for your Aria and her scaly acquaintance who's dying to save me. You'll at least still be able to see wonders and miracles, Ikarias alive with only half her skin. Ever see that before? Messy, but it will add such ambiance to this place and set a good example for others. Here's a bargain priestess, I'll let you touch a goddess before you die. Your life's ambition realized at last."

Aria felt feverish as she shook drops of sweat from her face. I won't burn alone. If Syn fails, I'll embrace Firenzia like a lover. Wisps of smoke came to her nostrils, her legs felt leaden and sunburned at the same time.

Synestra nodded painfully acquiescing, lowering her eyes and glancing at the marble spread to the ends of the nails on each finger.

Ikarias bent and reverently kissed the half of a scaled head that reached to her chin. A hand's breath of air gradually decreased between her battered form and the petite figure before her.

B'sylla took a fleeting look to the sky then back at Firenzia, a serene smile on her ravaged face.

From behind Firenzia, Ikarias narrowed her eyes and focused hard on Synestra and Aria, giving the slightest nod of her head.

Holding Synestra firmly, Aria caught the immediate change in the Half-Dragon.

The snake priestess pressed her hands together as if in prayer just before her last step to Firenzia.

"Die happy if not soon," Firenzia drawled mockingly at Synestra.

Ikarias held tight to the small shoulders and leaned back.

Aria pushed Synestra forward.

"Die now," whispered B'sylla from across the courtyard.

____****____

(Part 76 by Ikarias) --

The snake priestess' left hand was a blade of silver-veined marble plunging easily through Firenzia's bare skin. Tearing past muscle and cracking ribs in its path, it reached and clutched tight about the pumping heart.

"I'm immortal!" Firenzia screeched, unable to break Ikarias' grip. She was shocked at the novel feeling registering as incredible pain felt for the first time in over five thousand years.

"Only your stolen half," Ikarias snarled, feeling her hands as if on fire as the sorceress' defensive spells ignited. The searing moved to her wrists, up her arms and to her shoulders. She smelled her flesh burning.

Aria held tight to Synestra feeling the magic-maker's splintering bones break outward as the snake priestess withdrew her hand, wet and full.

Ikarias dropped away from the screaming sorceress, unable to hold on any further with the skin blistering on her human arm, though no longer needing to. She stared up at a familiar shape hovering above them.

"Father!"

The skeletal form of Phenthregaas opened its maw and silver flames shot out.

Synestra jerked her head back and threw Firenzia's heart high into the shimmering dragonfire. Both assassin and priestess fell back from the billowing flames.

B'sylla saw the sorceress' heart shrink into dust in the colddrake's spirit flame.

Firenzia's scream abruptly stopped. Her body burst into sharp small flecks riddling those nearest with venomous elf shots filled with eons of poison. Ikarias, Aria, and Synestra choked, oozing sores suddenly erupted from their flesh.

The ice dragon spread his wings wide. Fine glowing jade sparks flew up and settled into his wings as if coming home to rest.

Ikarias wiped dust and blood from her face and watched amazed as she saw her lost loved ones reunited. She spat up blood and saw both her skins break open with angry lesions atop the feeling of blazing flesh.

B'sylla felt a soft glowing warmth as flame emerged again from Phenthregaas' throat, this time golden and green. It washed over the three women like a waterfall of light.

Aria braced herself for the inferno to consume her but the healing fire cooled her skin and closed the tiny vicious wounds left from Firenzia's vitriolic nature. She remained deaf; she knew that Synestra was still voiceless and lame.

"Goodbye Father, Shazria," tears came from her eyes as Ikarias felt the sorcerous' plague and her charred arms heal. The wound still gaped where she had tried to take off her own skin; she saw that B'sylla was still blind.

The three saw the huge ice dragon outlined in shimmering stars then there was only darkness.

The scarlet sun had finally set.

"She gone forever," B'sylla voice came from across the courtyard.

"We're still in Hell. Are the swords near you?" Ikarias stood, recalling the last position the albino had.

"Yes," B'sylla took a couple of careful sliding steps backwards hearing a muffled clanking.

"Synestra, hold on to Aria, let her know she's not alone, we'll be right there. I just want to be armed. I don't know how long we'll be here, or when sunrise is." Ikarias sighed and held back choice curses. Or what else might be waiting, lurking for scraps from Firenzia's table. She felt around and picked up the knife, hating to hold it but wanting it for defense. She stuck it in her belt in the back.

With outstretched arms she walked to B'sylla, gingerly embracing the albino. She stooped and retrieved the swords she and Aria had used.

Synestra pressed cold marble fingers to Aria's cheek trying to reassure her.

The assassin held back her fears, deaf and blind? Couldn't be, please, goddess. "Synestra dearest, please, remember our little code?" Aria spoke softly, unable to hide the quaver in her voice. "One tap for yes, two for no?"

A sob came from the blonde as a single soft tap to her cheek came in answer.

"Am I blind? Is she really gone for good?"

Two taps, cool lips pressed against hers then a single tap followed.

"We need to get to the others," Ikarias cursed trying to realign herself in the dark.

"I have been blind often," B'sylla spoke calmly. "They are seventeen paces over to the right corner." She put her hand to Ikarias' free arm.

When the Half-Dragon got them all together, she held Aria tightly. With the ex-basilisk's memories of the same castle on the other side, the four managed to get to an alcove protected on three sides by high walls and a roof. Ikarias gave B'sylla the knife. Neither Synestra nor Aria could do much to protect themselves. This time Aria's discovery of self-healing didn't work for any of them. Their direst wounds being the direct handiwork of the sorceress, there were no misdirection or illusions to disbelieve in.

"I know this may not be the best time, or it maybe the only time we have." Aria sat, her back to a wall holding Synestra's head and shoulders across her lap. She spoke softly, unable to hear her own voice though knowing her lips and tongue moved, she felt the vibrations in her throat. "I'd like to make a confession. Is that okay?"

Synestra tapped once on Aria's hand resting over her heart, a sad unseen smile on her bruised lips.

B'sylla had torn more of her skirt off to wrap about Ikarias' chest. The Half-Dragon felt gentle fingers probe.

"You're still bleeding, I'll add more padding."

"I don't think it's going to stop," Ikarias peered into the darkness, hefting one sword, exercising futility yet again. It gave her something to think on over the wet sticky feeling of her life leaking out and gluing her clothes to her body. She had never experienced such blackness, such an absence of any light, flicker, reflection, glow, nothing. She tried not to listen to Aria, feeling proud of the way her friend was holding up with the loss of two senses. She had no idea how it went for Synestra. Was the marble still spreading? Would she live half and half? Would they ever leave this place? In frustration, she slammed the two swords together startled at the spark they made.

"We still have excellent hearing," B'sylla reminded her. "And the sense of smell. Sight and sound are the most prone to illusions. Don't dull the blades for light we want but do not need."

"Right," Ikarias would have nodded but that would have been missed. It was going to be a very long night.

Lying with her head in Aria's lap, feeling the warmth of her body, and even greater, the warmth of her soul, Syn felt at peace. They had done it. With the grace of Synestra's goddess, and the love and faith from her friends, they had ended one of the greatest evils afflicting many worlds.

Aria spoke of things she had never told anyone; her doubts about her father's actions, her mother's insinuations, what drove her from her home into Chaenz' influence and beyond. Things she'd done, lesser and greater evils. Her penchant for 'bad girls' and the underlying redemption she had hope they would find in her, the strength she sought to find in them. Regrets, many of those, good and bad. Small incidents surfaced like lilies reaching up through a muddy pond to open in the sun. These were the currents carrying her soul on her true course. Synestra wished that she could tell Aria. She opened her mouth and felt no pain, no pulling, or pressure. No more blood from the wound, either fresh or anything dried, just the emptiness of where her tongue used to be. She didn't feel heavy or cold inside either.

Aria deserves happiness; they all do, Synestra thought. The living have no place in Hell, neither do some of the things I've seen here.

"I don't think I've ever held a blade before, not even to eat with." B'sylla turned the handle until it felt comfortable. The scent of Ikarias' blood still hung heavily on it.

The Half-Dragon switched the swords, holding both in her left. She leaned against the slender woman gingerly touching one arm to the wrist down over to B'sylla's hand to make sure the grip was good. "Hold it firm but not tight, and keep the pointy end toward danger, or dinner."

Odd how thirst came and went, hunger too. Rest was more needful than sleep, but Ikarias certainly wasn't going to take a nap in Hell and wake up worse than dead. How long were nights here? The day seemed to last a week; she hoped that wasn't the case with evening.

Ikarias hated feeling helpless. Phenthregaas had shown up just in time, his shade, to be anatomically correct. The tie of blood and love gave her back her will. Will enough to hold onto evil until it shattered. Her sister was home too, her search ended.

B'sylla leaned against her, the contact a comfort, watching against a night neither one could see.

"They don't hurt anymore. It's as if the pain was all her doing, not just the physical loss. My hands were the last traitors but I have forgiven them."

Ikarias didn't know quite what to say to that, knowing the albino had been a creature under Firenzia's power, helpless until the last to act selflessly. Fearless didn't apply, a desperate justice at any cost, that's what B'sylla gave for all of them.

She took the albino's knife-free hand in her human one, "No wonder when I first saw you, you felt like family." The smile came through her voice, "Basilisks are cousins, little cousins. Always underfoot at dragon family reunions, nibbling the edges of the cakes and getting sticky paws from stealing the honey bars."

A small chuckle came from B'sylla, "I think I missed those, though I can do without sticky feet, big cousin." B'sylla patted Ikarias' hand and held it briefly.

Ikarias felt such a drawing towards B'sylla, no matter how remote the connection or changes gone through. Maybe in another time or place…

____****____

(Conclusion, Part 77 - by Ikarias) --

Synestra pressed her fingers to Aria's lips hearing the woman cease her recitation. She carefully rose as much as she could and kissed the assassin, tasting the tears the blonde shed.

The last offense, using, USING, goddess forgive her, someone she dearly loved to end something hateful and cruel, nothing could erase that from Aria's soul and heart.

I forgive you, all of it. Thisss wasss the way it had to be, what my life meant to end in a world you ssshould never sssee again, my dearessst Aria. Never regret your actionsss. Thisss isss what I had to do, how I mussst finish.

Ikarias squinted at the sky. A small dim light blinked in the vast dark blanket covering them. She could have sworn it moved. Black dots still bubbled in her head alternating with a dizzy sick feeling. Passing out from blood loss was not an option. It would ruin her image.

"Are there stars in Hell? I suppose I'm bleeding enough to draw sharks. Considering our quaint location, sky-borne sharks aren't out of the realm of the possible."

"No stars or sharks that I know of," B'sylla strained her senses.

"It's getting bigger. A moon? But moons don't grow… and this doesn't reflect or light up anything."

"There are two of them," B'sylla stated flatly.

The sparks, moons, whatever grew and moved, now single, now double, coming towards them no doubt of that.

"You're right, two and they've grown larger than coins. One, two, one again, what the hell?" Ikarias held a sword at the ready in each hand.

"I don't believe that is what our visitor is," B'sylla lowered the knife as she felt a familiar presence.

Ikarias couldn't see any clearer and the albino certainly wasn't making any sense. The light/lights drew closer, increasing to size of platters, then shields. A shield split down the middle with a dark shining iris, and there were definitely two of them. Eyes?

Aria wiped away her tears, feeling Synestra's love and acceptance in that simple kiss. She looked up and saw--saw! Saw? Not sunrise, but something, a soft easy glow outlined Ikarias and B'sylla.

"Something's here," wonder filled Aria's voice, no feelings of dread or danger came from the eyes.

"Help Synestra rise." B'sylla smiled, tucked the dagger in her belt, and bowed her head.

Ikarias knew that entity. She had missed the name last time but this felt like the same well-being wholeness sensation from when Synestra had healed her. Swords in one hand, she hurried to the other side of the snake priestess and guided her to her feet.

A small expectant sound came from Synestra's lips. She clenched her marble hand at the frustration of not being able to properly greet her goddess.

Hyzperzia's voice came to each in ears and minds. You have lost much, and gained much more. Decisions still must be made for that is the gift of free will to all mortals.

"Heal them," Ikarias interrupted, rude she may be, but they were all hurt on her behalf of that psychotic magic-monger. Knowing her brought them all into danger.

The eyes, large enough to flawlessly mirror the tall warrior's form from crown to sole turned on her. Your irreverence is noted, oh Half- Dragon, so is your love and concern. The wounds are not easily closed but you all shall be restored as much as I can. Can't have you falling over from weakness, or heartache. You family awaits you when your time is done.

Suddenly cold, like she'd been dropped in a winter pond thick with ice, Ikarias shivered and clenched the swords. Her head cleared, the pain of the cuts faded, well being infused her whole body. She put the swords down, took hold of Synestra again, and nodded at the smile on Aria's face.

Synestra, my right hand and my holy warrior, what is your wish?

Can you return B'sylla's sight?

I regret that I cannot, what you ingested has become part of you, Hyzperzia replied. Taking that away would kill you. The marble is everywhere.

"I would not have my eyes back," the albino bowed again. "Sight is useless against certain things. The heart must be the vigilant watcher."

You will see into the hearts and souls of all, O Basilisk Woman. You are blessed by more than a mere goddess.

Ikarias looked at Aria and shrugged, confused, 'Mere goddess?'

I would keep B'sssylla'sss sssacrificcce, not for fear of death, but to honor her, if I may, Synestra requested. Without her, we would not be free. She stood alone, unconsciously shaking off Ikarias and Aria. She stood! Her feet felt whole; they were complete, the toes regrown, hard as stone, flexible as flesh.

"Syn," Aria clapped her hands together, then touched a stone shoulder, stone cheek, watching stone eyes, moving and warm with love.

I can restore that much to you, my priestess. Synestra put her fingers to her lips and touched a tongue that felt hard yet moved with the normal softness and flexibility of old.

B'sylla put a hand on Synestra's shoulder. Ikarias stood next to Aria.< p>"I have a voice! Oh, Aria, I wish you could hear me," she held the assassin tight.

Aria pulled away looking at her friend's face, "You can speak?"

Synestra tapped once on Aria's cheek.

"And you don't lisp?"

The snake priestess shook her head and tapped twice, smiling she stuck out her un-split tongue.

Aria laughed and held her friend close again.

Aria, in a fortnight you shall be whole. Listen to that which is within.

Aria nodded, wiping at one ear feeling the clotted blood gone from her hair, the emptiness wasn't quite so frightening or lonely.

Ikarias stretched her arms to hold all three.

Decisions must be made. Hyzperzia's voice came very soft fading over the group.

"Wait!" Ikarias turned and yelled into the dim empty courtyard. "How do we get…home?"

*****

A low glow came from the horizon. A hesitant sun emerged, pale and wan, much less ebullient than the one they were used to but welcome nonetheless. It had rained for two solid weeks since Ikarias, Aria, and B'sylla had returned. True to the goddess' promise, Aria's hearing returned the night before, at the end of the fortnight.

Startled awake by the sound of rain thrumming on the roof Aria had run through the door smack into Ikarias. Laughing and crying they held each other as Aria spoke of everything she could hear, her feet on the boards, Iky's much-missed chuckle, the creaking of old beams, the branch pattering against the wall from the wind, the scuttling whisper of mice in the attic.

Later over the next few weeks, by ones and twos the lodgers returned. The mysterious Lord Sirius arrived first, though she did not speak of where she had been. She nodded to Aria and Ikarias as they sat near the barn; she gave a formal bow to B'sylla.

The albino bowed in return then went back to her dual sword dancing. Blades together, apart, crossed with a soft hiss, swung under her arms, legs, in front and behind her, slicing through tall weeds and cutting them into tiny pieces as they hovered on the wind. A thin bandeau about her breasts and a short wrap about her hips gave her freedom of movement. Her long white hair was held close and out of the way in a braid fastened about her head. Ikarias had only seen that ancient style on small hand-sized statues found back in her home cave.

For someone two weeks ago, who didn't know which end was sharp, B'sylla had improved with uncanny speed.

"I miss Synestra, gods above, I miss her. Book too." Aria leaned on Ikarias as they watched the amazing show.

They're doing much good," Ikarias tossed small pebbles and watched B'sylla smile as she easily deflected each one with a plink as they hit a blurring blade.

"I'm so glad Book--Theranoch, damn, I must remember his real name, has found his peace. He smelled of fir trees and the open ocean, even his binding had changed to soft green suede and chased silver clasps."

"I guess it had been too long since his old shape, or maybe like Synestra, he could do more good as Book."

"I still prefer horses or my own feet to being carried home in a tornado. A bit drafty." Aria smoothed down her skirt and gave a meaningful look to Ikarias who grinned slyly.

"The Bloodwynd goes everywhere, I won't be surprised if we saw it again someday," she leaned and pressed her lips to Aria's forehead.

Aria leaned back and looked into the odd-colored eyes, golden dragon and cyan human, "I forgive you--everything. After what we went through… what happened to you could have been carried out on anyone. You could have done worse to me, even when we dueled, you held back. Forgive yourself, Iky. I have."

"I still owe you." Ikarias shook her head, "If you ever still want a purse and shoes, let me know. Dragon leather never goes out of style. It's wash and wear."

"I'll keep my favorite clutch bag in one piece, thank you." Aria kissed Ikarias softly on the cheek.

"Can you believe B'sylla? She hasn't missed once. Oh, I saw her with a garter snake this morning. It touched her lips with its tongue as she held it in her hands. Do you think it was a messenger?"

Ikarias nodded, a wistful look on her face. She held out a towel as B'sylla came over.

"I'll be leaving in the morning, it is time for me to take my place as High Priestess," B'sylla wiped her face and took the glass of cool water from Aria. To all appearances her eyes were still there, just closed behind long white lashes. She missed nothing, not the dragonfly that fluttered about, landing on her shoulder then crawling to her proffered finger to fly off, not the small violet she plucked and handed to Aria, not the smile that wished for more for Ikarias.

B'sylla knelt and took Aria's hand, "You're wondering what if she comes back, what's happened to her."

Ikarias nodded at the albino's words, "Theranoch said nothing is truly lost forever, just changed."

"Where could she be, other than suffering for all the evil she's done?" Aria shook her head.

"She looked fifteen, the age of my sister, the age when you left home," absently the Half-Dragon reached out with a careful hand to take a piece of dried grass out of B'sylla's hair.

Aria felt her heart skip a beat at the expression on Ikarias face.

"Fifty thousand years of suffering might be enough," B'sylla murmured and rose. "Though the being that had made her will suffer too, and those that set her on that path."

"What if it happens again, will it ever stop?" Aria shuddered.

"Power for weakness, someone's always offering that with hidden strings," Ikarias closed her scaled hand and opened it. She was the half-breed proof, never felt so deeply as now.

"I'll be at the springs getting cleaned up," B'sylla squeezed Aria's hand and gave a little nod to Ikarias.

They watched her walk, graceful and unconscious of the aura that surrounded her. "I think she's a goddess, and I do mean a real one." Ikarias stood and went to the spot where B'sylla had danced. She knelt as Aria came over. "Looks twenty, acts like she's been around forever…"

"Iky, what are you saying? B'sylla has gifts yes, two dozen bulls eyes in a row at five hundred paces in archery is more than lucky, but immortal?"

The Half-Dragon rose with tiny pieces of cut grass in her hands. "These are the only sign she's been here, no footsteps in the bare dirt or bent over grass and trodden down clover for that hour of practice." She picked up the swords, without any nicks or scratches from all the play.

"Odd how no one asked where we went, they brought back wine, bolts of cloth, Klancy has a new saddle. It did happen." Aria touched one ear and shuddered.

Ikarias took Aria's hand, "What if we told them we've saved the world from a psychotic sorceress, saw a friend turned to living stone who stayed to harrow Hell, watched a goddess emerge from an enslaved basilisk, and you thought you almost beat me with a sword."

"Who'd believe it," Aria replied dryly.

*****

On a hilltop capped by standing stones, a naked girl tossed a knife into the blood-drenched dirt. Black flame poured down from the circling clouds and touched each of the seven fallen figures, their white robes dappled with liberal areas of red.

"You called, I came." Five different independent eyes swirled in the midnight fire.

"Immortality, eternal youth, and all the power I want." A dusty singed scroll hung from one delicate hand.

A white flame appeared suddenly between the two.

Momentarily taken aback, the girl nodded, "What do you offer?"

"The chance to keep your soul, and to live a normal life."

"Offering stone to the starving are we?" The black flame laughed, amused. "I follow the letter of the scrolls, I was the first to answer her."

"The spirit of the scrolls is quite different."

"Free will, that is both letter and spirit."

"Child, you have stopped those who brought you here to die, that is your right. More than that is not possible." The white flame abruptly burst into the black and both vanished. The clouds cleared.

"What about me?" The girl looked about at the dead and felt her breath catch in her chest, "What about me?"

____****____


This ends the saga of Syn & Aria, by the incredible Ikarias, Aria, & Lord Sirius

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Ikarias Index // Aria's Index // Lord Sirius Index

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