[Carillon]

Jaelle lies quietly pressed against him for a few minutes, perhaps considering the blood prices paid or something else. Finally, when she's ready she resumes her story.

She kept watch over me while she was away, naturally. She was very protective of me. I was part daughter, part friend, part slave and part prized pupil. A stunningly complicated relationship. I don't even know who it was, not even now ... who did the actual watching. One of her undead servants perhaps. All I know is that one day when I was working in the Hall of Magic someone touched my shoulder and a male voice spoke in my ear and a letter was pressed into my hand. I almost died of shock but he was gone again before I could even scream. I never saw anyone.

If I was shocked to realize I was being watched--and really, I shouldn't have been, but I didn't think of it--what I read in her letter shocked me further. She forswore vengeance against the Council. I suppose in part venting her anger on the dwarves of Ulgrid's was enough, but I swear it was more than that. So many times we had fought about it. It was hard, bloody hard, to oppose her, but when she finally forswore vengeance she claimed it was because of the things I had said to her when I sued for peace. And as always, she wrote of her love for me in the letter.

I didn't know what I thought of her then. Love? She was a dangerous and confusing enemy. A thorn in my side, who wanted to raise one of the worse demons I had never read about, and almost had the means to do it. A necromancer who continually killed and hurt and threatened those close to me. And yet I was drawn to her, inexplicably and undeniably, just as on that first day. Moth to a flame, and I thought she would consume me like fire.

I had no idea what to do, so I turned to Spellgard for aid, and to a sorcerer I trusted very much with strong connections to the city. I told him the truth, or most of it, and he agreed to help me. Vampirism is little different than a disease, when you consider it in that light, and we hoped to find a cure for her. I was not sure she wished to be cured, but I wanted her to have the option to be free of it. I wanted, too, to see what she looked like when all the taint of the vampires was stripped from her. I was afraid that after the evil of her cursed condition was stripped away I would still look at her and see evil, but it was worth the risk. I had to know.


A faint smile in remembrance.


It looked so promising. I had my ally in Spellgard researching vampirism and a potential cure for her ... she had turned back part way on her own after her sire was killed, but she was trapped in limbo between undead and living, you see. I'd explain it better if I could, but even after months and months of research and reading and discussing it, I still don't fully understand. There isn't much precedent, you see. Much of the time the lesser vampires are killed but the sire persists, or an entire nest is "exterminated" at once, so we have very little to go on with regards to what happens when you kill the sire first. And from what I understand of it, even in those cases the results can vary. Laa'ra's case was unusual in that the transition persisted so long.

It looked promising. It really did. Laa'ra was in the Brechs, locked in a siege with the dwarves, who were giving her undead quite the run for their money. She was distracted, a cure was being sought, and the Council was safe. For the first time in months, I dared to hope. And then while I was searching the Spellgard archives, doing research on the cure and vampirism, everything changed in an instant.

War. Word of it ripped through the Spellgard streets like wildfire. War in the Boyer kingdom ... a long way from Spellgard, save for the portal that connects Spellgard and North Point. I prayed Laa'ra would remain busy in the Brechs and my ally would continue to work on the cure, and I left Mistone for Dregar, traveling south from North Point to Dalanthar and the foot of the Peaks. How could I not? What was happening there with Essrantor was far greater than Laa'ra's illness, or even her vengeance. The third urn was protected, and in truth there was little I could do. So I left, and I was gone for months.


Lying in his arms, staring at the ceiling of her room, she glances over at him and smiles.


One story often weaves seamlessly into another, but I'm certain you've heard some of the tales of Essrantor's Veil and the Boyer war already. Was your father there? I can't recall ... not with me at least. When I arrived, a group had already left for the Peaks and another to do god knows what somewhere else. But it is not always the great hero that tips the scale of a war. Sometimes it is the small, humble acts that go unsung that make a difference. In Huangjin I heard a wise woman say once that a single grain of rice can tip the scales. Perhaps that is what I was trying to do ... tip the scales. Or just be one more grain of rice that opposed the giants.


She reaches out for him and pulls him into a hug, then releases him with a sigh.


Remind me to tell you those stories another night ... maybe the next time we steal away here, after the child is born. They're good stories. I think I made a difference there. I went up the Peaks with a few others and rescued a clan of giants frozen in stone for centuries who went to war for us. I bargained with a half-drake half-wyvern who lived in the ice of the Peaks, and secured the aid of a silver dragon spirit. I stood with the others to hold the pass, and when the time came I called down the dragon spirit who aided us, and then flew up to help the others ... but as I said, stories for another day. And besides, after this it will be your turn.

But where was I? Oh yes ... the war. We fought for weeks, months even ... and when it was over, I returned to Mistone, and I went looking for Laa'ra ...