Emwonk T'nodouy - You don't know me, still

[Nehetsrev]

Seplar 16, 1484
 
 The short halfling with greased-back hair and mirrored goggles sighed in frustration yet another time as he attempted speaking with a merchant.  It was simpler, he'd found, to just point at what he wanted and pay whatever coin was asked... but also more costly.  Just once he wanted to be understood enough that he could haggle down the prices of the things he needed to continue his existance.  That is when it occured to him that for a long time he'd simply just been existing.  For years he'd made little to no progress in his plans for revenge against those who'd taken away his ability to speak normally.  He concluded his transaction, doing his best to suppress the sparks coursing about himself due to his frustration.  It seldem helped him any if the commoners he dealt with became frightened because of his sparking.  Taking the loaf of still warm and moist, freshly baked bread he'd paid for, and walking away with a shake of his head, Emwonk set his mind to thinking.
 
 Where was the Current leading him?  Perhaps it was waiting for him to begin leading himself more?  How could he know for certain?  It wasn't like the Current to speak to him a booming, commanding voice that told him exactly what to do, step-by-step.  No, that was never the way the Current lead.  It was a ... prompting, inside that nudged him in this direction or that most often.  Easilly confused with his own whims at some times, and at others times so strong that there could be no doubt.
 
 Still, Emwonk contemplated how for years he'd simply been drifting...  That is, during the times when he was conscious of his own being.  He knew there were still times when he was not.  There were times when the nightmares took over his reality, and his grasp on it.  Sometimes for months at a time.  He only knew those times happened because he would find himself somewhere he had no idea of how he'd gotten to.  Stumbling out of woods or marsh onto a road and suddenly coming to himself.  Clarity would form out of the initial confusion, and he would then set to living his life again in more or less full control.  Until the next event occured.
 
 Which brought his thoughts back again to what he'd done in his life so far, and how very short a distance on his own road to defeating the Wardens he had yet traveled.  It was true he had done many things.  Some were really great things.  He had been instrumental in freeing Ezlab and defeating Gimbol.  He had saved the city of Stort from a plague almost single-handedly, retrieving the needed ingredients for the cure when others had failed.  He'd faced wrongful trial at the hands of Saida, an agent of the Wardens.  He'd escaped the clutches of Destiny and other hunters in the Warden's employ on several occasions.  He'd helped save Jez's town from the eaters, and helped Jed recover from his ordeals with those demons.  These things and so many others, he had done.  Yet, it seemed in all of that, he'd gotten almost no nearer his own goals, save for the gathering of credit with a few allies, who may or may not in the end prove to be invaluable when the final confrontation with the Wardens came.
 
 He needed to take more control, he felt the Current guiding him in this thought.  To do that, however, he would need to retake control of his own mind first.  How could he lead anyone against the Wardens, when he himself could cave to his inner nightmares and lose reason for days or even months at a time?
 
 "Towels & shoebrushes!", Emwonk muttered grumpilly to no one in particular, drawing glances from those folk he passed by in the crowded city market.  His own thougths and attentions were focused too far inward for him to notice their stares for a few moments.  How would he consolidate his mind?  He dwelt upon the question as he paced onward.
 
 Suddenly he stopped in alarm, and looked about with eyes alert to every detail and ears just as vigilant.  He needed to be more careful to keep his guard up, especially here where there were so many who could be agents of the Wardens.  He was sure they still sought him, still waited for an opportunity to recapture him and force him to alter the flow of the Current.  If they ever succeeded to bend his own will to their evil, it would change the world in dreaful ways.  The Current told him so in every fibre of his being.  The Current was all of creation, and all of creation was part of the Current.
 
 Emwonk spat at the ground, trying to rid his mouth of the memory of the 'bad soup' the Wardens had forced him to imbibe.  The concoction that had altered his very being while they tried to turn him into their tool.  Then he wept.  His sobs rang out in the dim alley he'd turned into to hide his grief.  Painful memories surfaced and choked him, of his friend Butterfly, torn apart before his eyes by cruel-beaked birds.  Even the ache of his own body returned to him as he remembered how he'd hung from those phantom chains of old, helpless to save her while the Wardens tortured and mocked without end.  Then came the blinding white flash of the surge, as the Current worked through him to free him from his captors.  After, the shock of discovering the Wardens had charred his two Elven friends and cell-mates to blackened husks while he'd been under the power of the surge.  Freedom beckoned, and Emwonk had no time to mourn them.
 
 He blinked away the bad memories and tears, and realized he was still in the alley.  Lifting the bottom edges of his goggles he let the frozen tears cascade to the ground below and set about finding his way again, loaf of toast firmly in hand.  Maybe he could find someone to help him regain his mind again, and put the nightmare-memories to rest finally...but who?  Andrew?

[Nehetsrev]

Oclar 14, 1484
 
 With some long discussion and a bit of trial and error in explaining, Emwonk had finally gotten the Human, Andrew, to understand his problem and his request.  In all actuallity, Emwonk was relieved Andrew had deciphered his phraseology as quickly as he had.  Worried that he might himself disappear and wander aimlessly in one of his lapses, Emwonk had asked Andrew to keep an eye on him.  He wondered if his ... was "friend" really the right word?  With grudging reluctance, Emwonk decided it was.  Still, he wondered if Andrew realized just how hard it had been for himself to place such trust in another.
 
 Emwonk's cheek twitched and he stared at the door of the room Andrew had shown him too.  He half expected Wardens to burst through at any minute, ready to carry him off to be tortured and broken again.  He took a moment to set an electrical trap on the door.  He was concerned and thankful both at once that the room had no windows that might need similar treatment, but which might also have provided a quick escape route in the case that Wardens did actually appear in the inn.  He supposed in the end it wouldn't have mattered, if there had been windows the Wardens were smart enough that they'd likely have come simultaneously through every possible egress to get to him.  Still, his mind was restless, though not as much now as it had been before he trapped the door.
 
 It was Emwonk's desperate hope that Andrew would be able to find a way, or a person, to help him conquer his own mind again.  He must regain his full faculties so that he would be able to formulate future strategies against the Wardens.  The seemingly random break-downs that left gaping holes in his memory and landed him often enough in unfamiliar places must be resolved in order for him to progress.  Even if finding that resolution meant he would have to entrust himself to others, including strangers.
 
 So it was that he waited in the inn-room.  He would wait there for as long as he could resist the closing-in of the walls around him.  He would bide his time while Andrew researched and made contact with those who might help him reclaim his mind.  At least, he would try to wait.
 
 Time ticked on.  A day passed, then another.  But during the late hours of the fourth night, Emwonk simply couldn't sit idle any longer in the room.  Quietly he slipped out into the comforting darkness that would hide him, and began travelling again.  Every instinct had shouted at him that he must keep moving.  Staying in one spot too long would allow the Wardens to find him again.  Yet still, the other quiet voice inside, the Current, urged him to stay longer.  He glanced back at the inn behind him lit dimly by the light of street-lamps and made to flicker along with the flames of those very same lamps.  In the end, paranoia won and Emwonk set off again.  He would return though, when he felt it was safe enough to do so again.

[Nehetsrev]

Decilar 20, 1484
 
 Andrew was busy making contacts and researching knowledge regarding similar cases to Emwonk's own and how they might possibly be cured. He had even had a consultation with Andrew that had included Elohanna, and the idea of bringing in experts from the churches of Aeridan and Lucinda. Emwonk voiced his skepticism that the church of Aeridan would help without also wishing to dissolve his connection with the Current, since it might be seen as unnatural by them. Perhaps he had little to fear though, since Elohanna herself was an Aeridanite, and he'd known her for years through which she'd always been supportive and helpful to himself.
 
 In more recent days, Emwonk's connection to the Current, and his ability to channel it's forces under it's guidance had continued to develop even more potently. He'd demonstrated a more powerful kind of lightning effect to Andrew and Iri Ambercress in the combat training room of the Silverbuckle during a short tour of the facility. The other Halfling lady reminded Emwonk somewhat of Jez, whom he had not seen in some time. He wondered if she'd be willing to settle for a rented room at the Silverbuckle? True, it wouldn't be a house of their own, but the accomodations were first-rate. Andrew had even mentioned he'd give Jez a job cooking for the inn if she decided to come work and stay there. Still, Emwonk wondered if perhaps too much time hadn't passed and if Jez may have found others to share her life with who could provide the house she desired. Perhaps he'd try to write to her, though he wasn't sure she knew how to read written word, let alone interpret his 'communications dysfunction' well enough. Even still, maybe it would be best to wait until after the attempts to cure his mind before contacting Jez? On the other hand, if something went wrong in the attempts, it could be possible he'd never get the chance to communicate with her again.
 
 Emwonk set off in search of a well-lit place with a smooth surface. He would write to Jez and hope for the best, Current willing.
 
 
 

Current Jez Blossom!,
 
 Emwonk cognates multiple excessive infinitums cycled successive Emwonk's prior communications.  Emwonk engenders singular physical verbal collective flows Jez Blossom's locality joint pleasurable emotives.
 
 Emwonk composes physical verbal collective regarding Emwonk's future infinitums, prior Emwonk's cognative repairation attempt.  Emwonk recycles cognitions Jez, Blossom, joint pleasurable emotives.
 
 Emwonk cognates Jez, Blossom requires physical centralized flow locality prior permanent joint flow Emwonk.  Singular enclosed joint Emwonk's cognatives, Emwonk proposes Silverbuckle Inn locality, provisional Jez entity regards acceptible?  Emwonk's good grounding, Andrew, proposes acceptance Jez, Blossom flow joint Silverbuckle Inn locality inclusive Jez, Blossom manufactures consumable edible conduits, exchange inclusive permanent centralized flow locality, joint metallic circular conduits.  Cognate?  Flow joint Emwonk, flow Silverbuckle Inn locality?
 
 Emwonk's blood-pumping muscle requires Jez, Blossom regarding optimal flow.
 
 
 Identifier, joint positive cognative emotes,
 
 Emwonk T'noduoy...youdon't knowme.
 

[Nehetsrev]

Apreal 28, 1485
 
 Emwonk crouched silently in the shadows next to the Silverbuckle Inn in Mariner's Hold. His special equipment, enchanted as it was just so, allowed him to maximize his ability to blend in with the shadows and hide his pressence from all but the most observant eyes and ears. This allowed him to think in relative peace, not so much prodded into jumping in startlement from every little sound that his rather paranoid mind took notice of.
 
 Much had transpired over the last four months or so. Since the Silverbuckle Inn had become something of a base of operations for him, Emwonk had decided it in his best interest to help Andrew with his cooking night and packaging of travel-worthy foods for some relief effort or another, if only to keep in the Human fellows good graces. The fact of it was, this making Emwonk more uncomfortable with every passing thought of it, that he was depending on the Human with his life. More than once he'd had to subdue the thoughts of telling Andrew to simply call the whole thing off. There had been more 'episodes' of coming to his senses in places he didn't recall travelling to, and these had served his conscious objections to terminating his request of the man to aid him.
 
 Emwonk changed the subjects of his thoughts, if only to bring an ease to his paranoid state. He'd encountered more possible pawns in his coming war against the Wardens over the last year or so, and thinking about how each might somehow serve a purpose for him was a worthwhile enough distraction.
 
 Firstly, there was Iri Ambercress. She a halfling herself, and seeming to have a thirst for adventure. That might be something he could use to manipulate her with later on. He decided it would be good to keep her near enough that he might have opportunity to keep her from harm. He wasn't sure if she was stonebound like himself, but even so, a few trips to the stone might dampen her adventurous spirit, and make her too cautious to be as easilly used later on even if she were stonebound.
 
 Another prospect to dwell on was the story-telling halfling, Pimpernell Greentoe. Emwonk wasn't yet sure if the fellow could be used in some way, so he would try learning more of him, and looking for ways he might be handled. If nothing else, some of the fellows stories might serve as amusing distractions along the way. The Current would guide Emwonk as time marched onwards. This he had faith in.
 
 There was also the Human man, Kian. Another Emwonk knew too little about yet. He'd watched the man botch enough pie-crusts at Andrew's cooking party, but there was potential for other tasks there, Emwonk had thought at the time. He had listened to Elohanna talking with Kian, and overheard some of their exchange about their religions. Religious folk could always be manipulated in some way, one just had to find the right leverage within the precepts of their faith, make them believe they were doing right by their god or goddess.
 
 Without warning Emwonk tensed as a screaming, singing halfling rushed toward the inn. It took only a split second for Emwonk to identify the one running so swiftly, as though chased by hounds, his muted-purples marking him quite clearly. It was the story-teller, Pimpernell Greentoe, communicating in his flight something about hair, teeth, and spears. He hadn't spotted Emwonk, so Emwonk wondered who he was trying to communicate with? Had he seen Wardens, or birds? It bore further looking into. Emwonk slid quietly around the edge of the building and through the closing door like he himself were a shadow, following the other Halfling inside to listen to what might transpire...

[Nehetsrev]

Augra 24, 1485
 
 It turned out that what the screaming, singing Halfling had been on about was a were-rat. In fact, after some investigation along with Andrew and several others, it was discovered a whole den of were-rats had sprung up beneath the streets of Mariner's Hold. Most of those involved had been turned from a local gang known ironicly enough as the "Rat Pack". The name had come from their tendency to overwhelm victims with sheer numbers, and they were also known for often dual-wielding daggers in fights. In the process of forcibly evicting the were-rats from living, Emwonk and the others were able to rescue a Halfling lady by name of Riesaleah Nash, who worked for the Wisefoot Trading Company.
 
 Emwonk thoughts of those days so recently past were but a distraction from what truly concerned him now. Elohanna's Aeridanite friends had sent a mind-healer, and very quickly, to begin helping Emwonk with his troubles. Emwonk remained suspicious of the woman, a miss Bernice, who it turned out could read and speak the tongue of the Wardens. He wondered if she herself were not a Bird sent by the Wardens, perhaps having intercepted Elohanna's letters to the Aeridanites in North Point. Bernice wanted to use sedatives as part of the process of healing his mind, something that made him even more suspicious. Yet Bernice, and even Elohanna and Andrew both insisted that for the treatment to be successful he must trust this stranger. Admittedly, Emwonk himself wished for his mind to be set right badly enough that he was willing to try. It was now a matter of time before Bernice would return to the Silverbuckle with the equipment and other supplies she needed to carry on with her procedure to heal his mind. Some voice, or feeling inside himself, was screaming not to go through with it, not to trust any of them. It frightened Emwonk that he couldn't tell if the thoughts so opposed were something of his own, or the urging of the Current... It unnerved him to no end, almost to insanity, but he had no choice now but to go on with things and see. He had to be freed from the blackouts, or whatever they were. He didn't remember being more terrified ever in his life, save when he was still held by the Wardens themselves...
 
 "From the weakness of one comes the strength of many," these were the words (or near enough) that Bernice had translated from the markings tattooed onto Emwonk's arms, assuming of course she actually gave an accurate translation.

[Nehetsrev]

(Re-posted from Emwonk T'noduoy - Emception (a private journal))
 
 Mar 12, 1486
 
 Emwonk paced the floor in the common area near the fireplace in the Silverbuckle Inn. A miniature lightning storm flashed and crackled about his person as he waited anxiously for Sister Bernice to arrive. This would be the day she would begin treating him, and he still had doubts about her nature, and whether she may or may not serve the Wardens in all actuallity. Elohanna sat nearby reassuring him that Sister Bernice would arrive soon and could indeed be trusted. Perhaps he was simply fearful of what might be hidden in the depths of his own mind that had caused him to become as he was now. He needed clarity and control though, this he knew above all the turmoil going on within himself.
 
 The woman, Sister Bernice, arrived. As before she was of frigid personality, and detached, refering to Emwonk as "the subject" even in his very pressence. It irritated him that she seemed to think of him as mothing more than ... what? An object? A sick animal needing tending? A puzzle to be worked out and forgotten when finished? It seemed the woman chose her words and actions precisely not only to provoke Emwonk, but Andrew as well, and perhaps even Elohanna. As Andrew helped get things set up in a room upstairs, the woman even asked him to bring -his- favorite red chair from downstairs for herself to sit in.
 
 Then there was the blue and white pill with a "D" upon its surface that she'd given Emwonk. He couldn't help but wonder if the "D" wasn't there as a provocation of paranoia from the woman who'd once hunted him and called herself Destiny. Yet he took the pill anyway, as Bernice had claimed it was a sedative to help him reach the relaxed state he'd need to be in for treatment, and he couldn't tell otherwise after his brief inspection.
 
 They receeded to the room he'd be treated in, the four of them together. Himself, Andrew, Elohanna, and the stern woman Sister Bernice, whom Emwonk thought lacked any iota of bedside manner. The sedative pill hadn't been enough to effect Emwonk much to her surprise, especially given his diminutive size even in comparison to other Halflings. Perhaps his special qualities interfeared with it in some way? Perhaps it was simply all the roiling emotions and tension he had within himself about all of this so called treatment about to take place. In any case, because the pill hadn't done the trick, Sister Bernice produced a vial of a blue liquid that Emwonk knew to be much more potent to the point that he questioned the safety of it. It didn't help that because of the blue color it reminded him of the "Bad Soup" the Wardens had forced upon him years ago, though that had glown blue and had felt like liquid ice going down. This concoction merely made Emwonk go nearly limp and sink into the bed upon which he lay.
 
 He saw a butterfly fluttering it's way around the room on velvet wings as his mind drifted further into numbness. Then he could hear Sister Bernice talking in a near chant-like voice telling him to go back to his childhood. Again and again, and again her voice intoned and seemed to get more distant, yet no less audible. Darkness crept in from all directions until Emwonk lost sight of the room around him, his friends, and even the butterfly.
 
 He stood then near a river, or stream. A young Halfling girl came running towards him. He noticed he seemed young again himself. What was this place? Was it a memory? He didn't know, and everything felt so strange. The girl spoke, presumeably to himself.
 
 "Dante!," the girl skipped toward himself and then stopped to giggle as Emwonk looked around in confusion at her, and his new surroundings.
 
 "Current, unidentified entity...," he greeted her, but something about the words didn't seem right. "Umm... nikki," he added.
 
 The girl seemed amused and responded. "Dante!," she laughed, "What the heck are you babbling about! I've been looking all over for you!"
 
 Who was this person? He decided to ask her, "Who are you?"
 
 "Betti, you dope! You know... your sister. What the heck is wrong with you?"
 
 The name didn't ring any bells to him, for all intents she was still a stranger, but he answered, "I... don't know?"
 
 "Mom was right, maybe you are losing it!," Betti giggled and began floating a small fireball in her hand playfully.
 
 "Losing what?," Emwonk replied, his mind still clogged with confusion by the whole of it. "Mom?," he asked, not remembering his mother, and wanting to know more.
 
 Bettie looked at him with a hint of exasperation, "Oh brother," she laughed again, "Come on the people will be here soon! From the special school!"
 
 He paused to think in the moment about this new information, but still nothing struck him as familiar. "What school?," He asked Betti curiously.
 
 "The one for the gifted kids. The ones like us!," she paused only to take a breath and continued, "I'm so excited!" She truly did look exuberant, and bounced on her toes with barely controlled energy.
 
 Emwonk thought about it all for another minute while Betti waited on him, perhaps too distracted by the fire she played with to even wonder what took him so long. Nothing was familiar. He felt he had to find out more and decided to start with his location. "I don't know where I am," Emwonk stated plainly to Betti.
 
 For a moment Betti regarded him with curiosity, as though wondering if he were sincere, or merely playing a game with her. Finally she pronounced, "What do you mean? We're right here, near the village!"
 
 It wasn't good enough, he wanted to know something more specific. A name for the place, he needed to know. He asked, "Which village?"
 
 There was a sudden flash of light, and he felt as though he'd been kicked in the head by a mule. He blinked his eyes shut hard reflexively and clutched at his head. When the pain subsided as quickly as it had come he opened his eyes once more to find he was elsewhere.
 
 It was dark, and wet. He stood chest deep in water covered with a layer of green scum. Twisted trees grew up out of the mirk in all directions. To one side he could see a patch of relatively dry ground, and on it a large ring of mushrooms.
 
 After his tongue rambled off it's initial questionings of "What?," "Where am I now?," and "Betti? Where are you?", he paused a moment and regarded the patch of mushrooms. He began slogging toward them numbly, "Mushrooms..."
 
 Just as he reached the edge of the mushroom-ring there was another flash of light and sudden pain in his head. The sharp stabbing of it nearly caused him to crumple this time. "Aah!," he shouted from the pain. Yet he kept his feet under him after all and opened his eyes to yet another new place.
 
 He stood on the grilling of a metal walk-way. Below him the distance was obscured by a bed of thick fog. Other walkways, some bent and twisted as though torn apart by some gargantuan beast stretched off into the distance in an almost labyrinthine way.
 
 "Hello? Anyone here?," he questioned the twisted metal walkways and the fog all around, "Where am I?" There was only silence, eerie, and devoid of any sound at all aside from the faint echoes of his own voice and perhaps the static sounds of condensation dripping off the metal and falling to somewhere far below. "Helllooo?," he called out again and waited.
 
 There was another bright flash, and knife-in-the-head pain, but then when he next opened his eyes he was back in the room upstairs in the Silverbuckle. Andrew sat asleep, Bernice watched and scribbled, bent toward him observantly, and Elohanna smiled down at him as though a burden had been lifted from her mind. Emwonk's own stomach rumbled protest at being left empty overly long in it's opinion. After finishing with rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Emwonk patted the complaining tummy with one hand while he looked around in continued confusion. The room almost seemed like a dream itself still, and the fog in his mind wasn't clearing as quickly as he'd have liked if he'd been more alert to notice it.
 
 Andrew hadn't quite been asleep after all, or the rumble from Emwonk's belly might've woken him, because he asked if Emwonk were hungry. Emwonk merely pointed to his pack laying in the corner and nodded. Once Andrew set the pack onto the bed within his reach he fished out some dried fish and a canteen and began to nibble and sip.
 
 Elohanna and Bernice both continued to watch him and Bernice asked whether he was alright. Maybe she wasn't all bad after all, he began to think. She instructed him he could remove the bandage from his arm if he liked, and then asked questions about what he could remember of his dream-state. Emwonk still groggy from the experience explained what he could. Andrew seemed to think the name Dante fit Emwonk well, and seemed pleased. Elohanna was surprised to hear he had a sister, and Sister Bernice was pleased with all the detail he could describe, stating that she thought his progress for this first session was "a success" and even smiled as she offered to help him continue to really dig deeper into his mind.
 
 Emwonk himself remained doubtful that any of what he'd just experienced would help him gain control of his mind, but he knew he needed to continue to know for certain. Focus on the goal in mind, he readilly agreed to see this journey onward.

[Nehetsrev]

Augra 3, 1486
 
 As the first rays of sunshine break the horizon the day after the famine relief auction, a tired and filthy Emwonk wanders in through the front door of the Silverbuckle Inn. A stands for a moment near the doorway to allow his eyes time to adjust to the darker confines of the inn. A yellow tabby-cat takes a quick sniff, catching the not so subtle stench of the local sewers wafting off Emwonk's person and then turns tail to trot off into some other corner of the inn. After this, Emwonk begins to make his way back through the kitchen toward Elohanna's office so that he may once again avail himself the use of her fountain to clean himself and his gear.

Before he can make it halfway through the kitchen, however, Emwonk is assualted by the shrill sound of Helloise shrieking at the sight of him, and narrowly ducks the broom swung in his direction. The furious woman shouts at him.

"OUT! OUT! YOU FILTHY, WRETCHED THING! I DON'T CARE WHAT MISTER REID SAYS, YOU WILL NOT ENTER THIS INN LIKE THAT!," a pause to catch her breath as she continues to chase Emwonk through the inn back toward the front door, "OUT, I SAY! YOU'VE TRACKED ENOUGH SOIL IN TO PLANT POTATOES, AND I WILL NOT HAVE IT!"

Scared for his life at the terrifying vissage pressented by the angry woman, Emwonk shoots as quickly as he can back out the front door, boosting his natural running speed with weaves of the Current and chanting repeatedly, "Flow!, flow!, flow!, flow!, flow!, flow!"

The blaze of the rising sun in his eyes as he passes outside, Emwonk comes to a halt to hear the heavy-footed Helloise stop just inside the door. The woman commands, "Now, strip right there and I will bring you a bucket and soap for you to wash with! Your clothes may just have to be burned!"

Despite the humiliation of the ordeal, Emwonk did as instructed. When Helloise returned with bucket of water and bar of lye soap, he felt a moment of dissorientation akin to dejavu. There was something of the whole scene that seemed somehow familiar, as though this had happened to him before. Yet the memory, if that is what it was, remained ellusive and Emwonk pondered what it could mean. So intensely focussed on the elussive memory were his thoughts that he didn't even object to cleaning the trail of soil he'd tracked in when the woman ordered him to after he'd finished washing and gotten dressed again in cleaner clothes.

[Nehetsrev]

Novlar 8, 1486
 
 Emwonk rested in fits between repeating nightmares of what his mind unveiled in his latest session with Sister Bernice Concordia.  Her methods had left him physically weakened to the point he could only sit in bed, eat small bland portions of food and sleep.  The medicines contained materials known to be deadly, in fact.  Emwonk found himself impressed with Sister Bernice and her great skill as a pharmacist and alchemist, to have mixed her concoction so precisely to have achieved the effects it did without killing him.  However, these thoughts of Sister Bernice were mere fleeting distraction.  What truly occupied Emwonk's mind were the dream-memories.  His mind had been playing them over and over since the last session.  Since they had become unlocked within his mind.  Some details changed from dream to dream. Little things, like in one version of the dream his family called him Dante, and in another they called him Darwin.  Always something with a 'D' at the beginning, it had seemed.
 
 Though still awake, the events of his latest memories began to replay in his mind once more like a waking dream.  In the bed he lay in, his eyes lost focus and began to stare off at some point on the opposite wall.  Meanwhile, in his mind, they opened to the spot near the bridge crossing the stream near his family home in some un-named town presumeably somewhere on Dregar.  Perhaps not far from Prantz, judging by the particulars of the species of flora in the region.  That is, assuming that detail of his dream-memory was accurate.
 
 Betti skipped toward him from a path aproaching the bridge.  "Niccy," Emwonk greeted his sister, and she answered in turn.  "Niccy," she smiled at him, "I'm so excited!"
 
 Her smile made him feel relaxed, even slightly joyful himself.  He thought he knew why she was in such a good mood and asked for confirmation, "About the school still, Betti?"
 
 "The adventure!," she chimed with enthusiasm that felt almost infectious.  The words caught Emwonk off-guard, and he still felt some confusion about where he was and how he'd gotten there as well.  This addition of the new topic of adventure only furthered his confoundment.  "Adventure?  What do you mean?," he questioned her, trying to get a grasp on this new element.
 
 Betti, as per her usual perkiness, began to ramble off, "I mean, it's so exciting.  And especially after the accident, we need a fresh start."
 
 Another wave of confusion tumbled through Emwonk's thought process.  He tried to remember any sort accident Betti might now be talking about, but nothing came to mind.  He felt prompted to explain himself if only to gain the missing information.  "I don't remember the accident," he began, "What happened?"
 
 Betti went on without seeming to even skip a beat, "You don't remember?  It was only a month ago.  The house fire?"
 
 "The house burned?," Emwonk answered.  Something in his feelings tingled with guilt, but he didn't know why.  "No one was hurt though, right?"
 
 Betti did take pause now, and rolled up her sleeve to show him her arm, "Well, not too badly.  I'll be okay though."  The burns on her arm were fairly severe, but did indeed look to be healing well.  Emwonk couldn't help but wonder if he'd caused them.  Betti didn't seem upset with him if he had though.  "Oh...," he continued to stare at the burns, "How'd you get burnt?"
 
 Betti explained, "We were playing around with our powers, me with my fire, and you with your sparks.  I didn't know the draperies would catch."
 
 Again, the feeling of guilt and responsibility stirred in his guts.  "I used the Current?," he questioned.
 
 "The what?," Betti asked, her lack of understanding evident on her face.
 
 "The Current...," he stated before asking, "Isn't that what my sparks are called?"
 
 Betti understood now and rattled off, "Well, we always just call them sparks, but if you want to rename them, I think current is a pretty neat word."  To her it seemed a game.  "Maybe we can call my fire something too."
 
 Emwonk felt more serious, protective of his younger sibling, and guilty that he might have done something to harm her.  He wanted to apologize and began, "I'm sorry if I did that to you," he paused here to point at her arm, "I wouldn't do it on purpose, you know, right?"
 
 Perhaps she had begun to understand how guity he felt as for once she sounded for a moment somewhat more serious.  "I know.  It was probably my fault anyway.  I'm always so careless."  By the end of her statement she was smiling again, and making a small ball of fire dance around her hands.
 
 Like any protective older brother might, Emwonk chided her, "Betti!  Shouldn't you wait?  For the teacher?"
 
 "The people at the special school are going to teach us how not to be careless," she answered as she continued to make the ball of fire dance.  Her eyes glimmered with that teasing look she got whenever she was purposely playing with his emotions to annoy him.
 
 "You could start early, you know," Emwonk retorted in a brotherly fashion.  Emwonk relaxed again as Betti allowed the small ball of fire to dissipate into a puff of smoke.  "When will they be here, anyway?," he asked her.
 
 Betti shrugged, "Today."
 
 "Maybe we should go wait at home?  I could use a bite anyway.  How 'bout you?," Emwonk offered conversationally.
 
 Betti seemed more subdued now, and perhaps a bit lost in thought as she answered, "Sure, I guess so."
 
 The two began walking along the trail together, in silence at least momentarilly.  As they rounded past some obscuring trees the path wound past a burnt-out husk of what once had been a fine home.  Betti stopped to look at the charred remains, heavy timber beams laying blackened on the ground, or leaning haphazrdly against eachother.  "This used to be the ... well, we should not have snuck in there.  They are going to be mad if they ever come back."  She bit her lower lip in speculation of what might happen if the occupants did in fact return.  Emwonk simply stared at the remains, having no recollection of the events that had turned the home into the incinerated heap of rubble that it lay now transformed into.  The lack of memory afforded him a measure of detachment that made him feel uncomfortable in other ways.  "Who?  Did we burn someone elses house?," he asked after processing the earlier statement of his sister.
 
 "The Junipers.  Anyway, our house is over here," he noted her change of subject after she'd answered his question and he looked ahead to where she set off to make her way to across the small clearing.  He took in as much detail as he could as they moved on together, noticing that there were in fact several homes arrayed around the area.  His mind wandred again to other troubling thoughts.  "Betti?," he stopped in his tracks a moment, asking her in a somewhat pleading voice, "Do I often forget things?"
 
 "There you two are," a new voice interrupted, and Betti didn't seem to notice his question, rushing ahead to a Halfling woman whom she gave a joyful hug.  "Mom!"
 
 Next to the halfling woman stood a halfling man who looked to Emwonk proudly, "There's my little man."  The two elders were dressed in clean, pressed clothes.  They appeared at least moderately wealthy by Emwonk's judgement, perhaps very successful merchants.  Yet, Emwonk felt nothing for them.  No emotion or recognition, though he guessed they were in fact his parents.  The man continued, speaking to Emwonk directly, "I knew Betti would find ya.  She always has a nose for that."  He'd tapped the side of his own nose with a half-grin that spoke of fatherly affection.  All Emwonk could do was to stare, and ask, "Who are you, sir?"
 
 The man was taken aback for a second, "Boy, you're getting daft again?"
 
 "He's been acting weird daddy," Betti interjected helpfully, but with a touch of concern.
 
 The Halfling woman piped in, "Oh leave him alone, it's probably just his nerves."  She began to fuss over adjusting Betti's waist-belt, straightening the bow tied into it just so.
 
 "I'm sorry.  I just don't remember," Emwonk said honestly and with the beginnings of frustration creeping into his own voice.
 
 The elder man answered in effort to clear up confusion, but obviously with some hint of annoyance at having to explain himself to Emwonk, "Your father, Greggor."  His expression was an odd look, a mixture of love, concern, and agitation.  "I don't want you acting all strange when the people get here," Greggor continued gruffly.
 
 It was all still a lot for Emwonk to take in.  "You're my father?  And.... and she's my mother?," he now indicated the woman fussing over Betti.
 
 "Yep, that's her alright.," Greggor turned to look at the Halfling woman for a moment before looking back at Emwonk.  Perhaps he imagined it, but Greggors gaze returned to him now with a subdued sadness.
 
 "Why don't I remember, father?," Emwonk querried of Greggor, seeking to come to grips with it all.
 
 The woman, his mother, finally took real notice, "Are you feeling alright, dear?"
 
 He couldn't contain his aggitation with the lack of memory any longer, and he burst out at her, "No.  No, I don't remember anything!"  Clenching fists at his sides, and setting his feet into the ground in frustration, Emwonk went on as his eyes began to burn with the oncomming tears.  "Betti says we burned down the Juniper's house and I don't remember!"  A deep breath and a sob, as might be expected of a child such as he was in this dream-memory. "Why can't I remember?"
 
 Greggor, his father, stepped forward now and knelt down to try to comfort him, "This school is going to do you well, I'm glad they contacted us.  I never even heard of it before, but it's supposed to be top tier.  Quality education for ... well, for kids like you."  His efforts were obviously those of a man uncomfortable with dealing openly with his feelings.  He looked for a moment to Emwonk's mother.
 
 Looking back up into his father's eyes, "Will it help me remember, father?"
 
 Greggor was strained and doing his best, "I hope it will, son."  The evidence of repressed tears of his own played in the edges of his voice, and shown on the reddened edges of his eyes as he tried desparately to deal with his son.  "This is the best thing for you," he looked into Emwonk's tear-filled eyes adding, "and Betti."
 
 Emwonk felt a connection growing then within himself for this man, Greggor, who was his father.  But still he felt hurt, frustrated by his lack of remembrance, and slightly jealous of his younger sister.  He looked into his father's eyes and he asked, "Why doesn't Betti forget things too?"
 
 Hearing her name, and Emwonk question, Betti reacted a touch upset, "Hey!  Don't put this on me!"
 
 The sheer turmoil inside Emwonk's mind and emotions threatened to rend his soul now, and he shouted at them all, "But I don't even know where we are!?  I can't remember any of you... or which house is ours or, the fire, or, or, anything!"  The dream-memory seemed to grow warped, and hazy all about himself, and a pressure in his chest made each beat of his heart feel like a knife stabbing deep in his chest.
 
 Still, he heard his father trying to comfort him again, "Maybe that's best then, son.  We need to forget all about the fire."  As the world bent around him and threatened to pop like a bubble, his father continued to repeat, "Forget all about the fire... forget all about the fire... forget all about the fire...." Greggor mumbled like a zombified echo in Emwonk's ears.
 
 "But, but.... father?  Why are you saying that?," he tried to ask and then there was the sudden flash, and the pain in his head as though he'd been struck with a mace.  He was elsewhere, alone.  Several more painful flashes ensued, each followed by glimpses of strange and varied places, until after a final flash Emwonk found himself waking in the bed in the Silverbuckle again, surrounded by Elohanna, Andrew, and Sister Bernice.  Then that memory too faded, and Emwonk realized he was laying in the bed, alone for the moment, having just finished remembering the first of two dream-memories his mind had unlocked recently.
 
 He took some few moments to drink some water and nibble at some food.  He would begin to relax again in a few minutes, and the second dream-memory would once again replay in his mind.  It hurt, deep inside, it hurt.  While the first of the two dream-memories was traumatic in it's own way, the second he knew was life-shattering.  He half-wanted to distract himself from it somehow, but at the same time he felt he must strive to remember each detail, no matter how minor and so must re-live the scene again, and again until it was set in his mind, and no longer tore at him so badly.  He finished his food and drink, and settled his mind again, relaxing into the pillows around him on the bed.  Time became meaningless as he stared again at the distant point on the far wall, and reality faded around him and began to coalesce into the dream-memory.
 
 "Towels & shoebrushes!," Emwonk cursed the pain now ebbing from him in waves of nausia as the dream-world once more formed about himself.
 
 His father's voice eminated nearby, Emwonk vision still too blurred to make out his form, "They're going to be here soon."
 
 "Who?," Emwonk asked.
 
 His sister took the initiative to answer, "I'm so excited daddy!  The school masters!"
 
 As always, Emwonk's mind struggled with the transition from real to dream-memory, but this time the disorientation was more severe.  He clutched at his aching head and muttered, "I was....  no... that was ....  Some-when-else?"  Things were coming more into focus now, and his mother stood in front of him, placid and smiling in anticipation of something.  He thought he knew what, and asked for confirmation, "I'm going to school, mother?  Father?"
 
 Lissie, that was his mother's name though he couldn't recall how it was he remembered that information, answered him in her motherly fashion, "It's for the best."  She continued with enthusiasm, "And the people.  Oh, the people, they were so nice and sweet in their correspondance."
 
 "My head feels funny," Emwonk stated, and still his mother went on, "They look forward to meeting such gifted children."
 
 Thankfully, it seemed, his father had heard him, "You need a pill son?," he asked.  That was new he thought, "Pill?  No."  Emwonk recalled having drank something before entering the dream-memory, "I drank something, father....  I think.  It was red.  And it glowed... but I think I'm starting to feel better now."
 
 "You know the rules, son.  No alcohol in the house," Greggor seemed to blow him off, as though he couldn't deal with Emwonk's explanation.  "That's just the nerves talking again.  You two are going to do fine."
 
 "Now remember to make a good impression," Lissie continued to fuss over the two children, bending to pick a piece of lint off Emwonk's clothing.
 
 Suddenly Emwonk remembered a cat.  His cat.  What was it's name, his mind raced to tell him.  "Where's Odis?"
 
 "Odis?," Lissie questioned with surprise.
 
 Emwonk couldn't believe his mother didn't know what he was talking about.  He explained, "My cat, silly!"  He stopped and added, suddenly not so sure about remembering the cat, "I do have  a cat don't I?"
 
 Lissie looked at him worriedly and started in soothing tones, "Dear, you know Odis died a few years ago."
 
 It didn't seem right, he felt like the cat should be there with him, but what his mother said must be true, mustn't it?  He felt must ask, "He did?"
 
 Lissie looked to Greggor then for support.  Greggor took it in stride and stated, "Yep, he did son.  Sorry.  I didn't think you'd forget."
 
 "Where did we burry him?," Emwonk suddenly felt the need to know, and then the answer came to him as he gazed into the back-yard behind their home, "It was under the tree, wasn't it?"  He started off to the tree that seemed to beckon him.
 
 Perhaps testing his son, Greggor didn't answer the question outright and only said, "Maybe."
 
 As he drew nearer the tree, Emwonk knew for certain, and noticed too a small grave marker set in place for the beloved pet.  He knelt down solemnly, a mourning stirring in him.  "Right here?"  Memories of the playful old cat flashed into his mind as he knelt before the tiny grave.  "I miss you Odis... you sure were good at catching birds.  And leaving them on my pillow..."  Something about the memory of the cat brought him a tiny peace, and even a smirk.  He turned as he heard his mother calling, "We need to get ready, dear."  One last look at the burial sight, he ran his hand over the cold, stone marker in fond remembrance, "Bye now...  I've got to go."
 
 Betti now urged him to join the rest of them, "Come on bro!
 
 When Emwonk rejoined his family near the front of the house two strangers now stood before them, just beginning to make introductions.  They were a man and a woman, Humans.  Something in the back of Emwonk's mind seemed to recognize the woman who stood behind and off to one side of the man.  The man adressed Emwonk's father, "Mister Rustlefoot?"
 
 "That's right," answered Greggor to the man.
 
 It was about then that full recognition blossomed in Emwonk's mind of who the woman was.  It was her, his hated foe, Destiny, or Saida.  The two looked so much alike Emwonk had wondered before if they might actually be the same person.  He decided that this one was certainly Destiny though, and he whispered in fervent warning to his mother who stood beside him, "I know you!  Mom, I know her!  That's Destiny... she scares me Mom...."
 
 "Ah, a pleasure to meet you sir.  You had some children for the testing?," the Human man continued with introductions, "Are these your lovely children?"
 
 Meanwhile, Lissie ignored Emwonk's whispers, focussed more on the strangers and making a good impression than what he might have to say in his perceived dementia, "Quiet down dear," she tried to mullify him.
 
 Greggor, speaking to the man, answered ignorant to the situation between Emwonk and his mother behind himself, "That's right.  My boy, Darwin.  And my girl, Betti."  Betti stepped forward, making a curtsey to the Humans, and Greggor turned to Emwonk and urged him forward too, "Step up, boy."
 
 "She, she, she left me on top of a tower, all tied up!," Emwonk continued to whisper fearfully to his mother until he heard his father urging him to step forward.  "No!," he shook his head vehemently at his father.
 
 Behind his father the Human fellow spoke to Betti, "Ah, young Betti.  Even lovlier in person.  Would you show me some of your powers, please."
 
 Betti exclaimed in excitement, "I sure will!"  With her pronouncement she began to make a ball of fire dance around her hands, showing off for the man.
 
 Emwonk clung to his mother and shouted in warning to his sister, "Don't do it Betti!  They're evil!"  He turned to his parents pleading openly, "Mom!  Dad!  Don't make us go with them!  They're going to hurt us!"
 
 "Good impressions," said Lissie, pushing him forward gently.
 
 Meanwhile the man cooed, attention focussed on Betti and her display, "Is fire your specialty?"  He didn't seem to even notice the disruptive display ensuing between Emwonk and his parents.  Betti too, pleased to have the opportunity to show off for someone, seemed to remain ignorant of Emwonk's outburst.  She giggled to the man, "I think so!"
 
 Emwonk continued to plead with his mother, "No!  Mom!  They're going to hurt me!"  He continued to cling to her desperately, "They'll make us drink bad soup!  I remember now!  I do!  Don't make me go!"
 
 Betti and the man continued their exchange.  The man asked, "What do you want to learn from the school?"
 
 Betti answered, "Well, mister, I'd like a little control of these powers and I only want to please!"
 
 "I'm not certain you are ready," he told Betti, and then looked to Emwonk, "How about you, boy?"
 
 "Go on!," Lissie gave Emwonk a shove forward.
 
 The man smiled at Emwonk, "I won't hurt you.  Come on now.  What are your powers?"
 
 "Yes you will!  I remember!," Emwonk told him, "She killed me!  Destiny killed me!"
 
 The fellow looked back at the woman behind himself, "Destiny?"
 
 "I've never seen this one before, master," the woman shrugged as she answered the man.
 
 Emwonk tried to convince the man, "That's what she calls herself!  I remember!"
 
 He turned his attention back to Emwonk and told him, "You must be confused."  Looking to Emwonk's father he went on, "It is quite normal in these cases."
 
 Emwonk shouted, "No!  I'm not!  She left me on a tower!  I had to call Freeze!"
 
 Ignoring Emwonk the man continued adressing his parents, "Their minds are not lucid, and without control, well..."  He motioned now to the burnt out house nearby, "Sometimes they do not fare well without guidance."
 
 Emwonk pleaded to his father, "I'm not crazy, Daddy!  Don't make me go!"
 
 His mother chimed in, "Don't be scared.  Go on.  Show the man."  Emwonk had the inkling something wasn't quite right.  Still, these were his parents, they must believe him, mustn't they?  He protested to her, "No!  He can't have the Current!  I won't bend it for him!"
 
 The human fellow continued to adress his parents nonplused by his continued protests, "I have some documents for you to sign.  Pure formality, of course.  We'll certainly take both of them off your hands."
 
 Emwonk's frantic protests continued, "No!  No! No!  I won't go with them!"  Why were they all ignoring him?  Why couldn't they see Destiny for what she was as he could?  In desparation he called out to the one entity he felt he could count on, "Freeze!  Freeeze!"
 
 Greggor continued to speak with the man, "Well, alright.  I think that would be best.  To prevent any further accidents in town."
 
 A moment later and a blue-skinned, winged creature materialized between Emwonk and the strangers from the school, and just as quickly the man flicked his wrist and the creature was held in place, "Oh, how cute.  He has a familiar."  Emwonk tried to instruct his familiar to attack the strangers, "Get them!"  Freeze didn't move and Emwonk turned away to run behind the house.  "Nooooo!," he screamed in his race to escape.  "Now come over here!," the man ordered from behind him.
 
 He hid behind the bushes near the tree where Odis was burried.  Emwonk curled up trying to catch his breath and make himself too small to be found in his hiding place.  Yet moments later he could hear someone moving toward his location.  Destiny called out to him, "Don't be frightened."
 
 "Stay away!," Emwonk shouted back, unwisely giving away his hiding place.
 
 Destiny's voice turned icey and cold, "Make this easy.  Or I can take care of your parents."
 
 Emwonk didn't think Destiny would risk harm to his parents in front of Betti.  He protested again, "No!"
 
 "I will rip the flesh from their bones.," Destiny continued, "Now, let's get going."
 
 He wouldn't give up.  He couldn't.  He knew to do so would be his doom.  "No!  I won't go with you Destiny!"
 
 She asserted, "Oh, you will."
 
 "I won't!," he called out again, but then her magic took hold of him.  He lost all control of himself, his consciousness pushed aside to become a spectator while the rest of himself became merely a puppet to Destiny's will.  "It's time to go, isn't it?," she asked him simply for show.
 
 Emwonk heard his own voice answer hollowly, "Yes... time to go..."  He watched as the terrain moved about himself, his body walking with Destiny back to the front of the home.
 
 "Good boy," she told him.  They drew closer to his parents and she said to them, "I talked to him, he's fine now."  His own lips formed what seemed an echo of Destiny's words, "I'm fine now..."
 
 She addressed the man, "Take the children, I'll stay behind with the paperwork."
 
 The man nodded back to Destiny, "That sounds well."  He took Betti by the hand and began to lead her off to a wagon waiting a small distance away at the other end of the clearing.
 
 As he watched them ahead of himself Emwonk could feel Destiny's control begin to slip.  Pulses of electricity rippled about his person and he took control of himself again, turning back to his parents.
 
 "Say goodbye to your parents," Destiny suggested, perhaps not yet realizing he was again in control of himself.
 
 Emwonk played along attempting to intone numbly, "Goodbye, mother, father."
 
 Destiny stared back at him in a disconcerting way.  His parent's began saying their goodbyes.
 
 "So long son!", said his father.  "We love you," his mother said, a tear in her eyes.
 
 "Wait!  No!," Emwonk tried to warn them again, "She cast a spell on me!  She said she'd hurt you!"  He rushed forward to hug his father, "Don't make me go!"
 
 Almost mockingly Destiny whirled a finger by her temple, "Nonsense.  It's that whole mind thing again.  We can fix this."
 
 "Go on boy," Greggor urged him, but it didn't sound right.
 
 Destiny grabbed Emwonk's shoulder, "Let's go."
 
 Emwonk continued to try to plead with his parents, tears streamed down his face as he cried, "Don't make me go with her, she'll hurt me!"
 
 His father answered, "They're going to help you son.  And Betti.  You should go and keep her safe."  His voice sounded distant somehow.
 
 "She said she'd rip your skin off Daddy!  When I was behind the house with her!  They're going to hurt us!," he cried out, still trying to cling to his father while Destiny pulled at him.
 
 Lissie spoke next, "Watch over Betti, we're counting on you."  Her voice too, sounded not right.
 
 "We love you son," droned his father.
 
 "Yes, we love you very much," droned his mother.
 
 Emwonk couldn't believe it, why weren't they acknowledging his claims?  "Aren't you listening to me?  I'm not lying!"
 
 "Of course son.  Be sure to write," Droned Greggor.
 
 "We love you, son," droned Lissie.
 
 Realization sunk in, and he spoke to them again, "She.... she must've cast a spell on you too!"
 
 "They will make you well," continued Greggor, "Take care of Betti."
 
 "Yes, take care of Betti," came Lissie's hollow encouragement.
 
 "No!  They won't!  You're not listening!," Emwonk bawled in panic.  He began pounding on his father with his fists, "Listen to me!  Theyr'e going to hurt us!  Don't make us go!"
 
 "I am going to cast a small spell on him, to make him calm," Destiny said to his parents, as if to explain to them and get their permission, though Emwonk knew she held them both under her sway now.  Destiny focused her power on him and again he was pushed aside within his own mind.
 
 Emwonk's parent's continued to speak empty goodbyes, "Goodbye son."  "We love you!"
 
 Destiny commanded, "Come along, you've said your good byes.  Go catch up to Betti.  The wagon is waiting for you."
 
 He heard his own hollow voice, "...catch up to Betti..."  His feet began moving without his own will, "... the wagon..."
 
 "They get so nervous," Emwonk could hear Destiny telling his parents as he drew further away from them toward the wagon.
 
 The man waiting at the wagon spoke to him as he neared it, "Ah, excellent.  In the wagon.  We have far to travel."
 
 Emwonk was witness to himself climbing up into the wagon still with no control of his own body, but he could feel Destiny's grip loosening from himself.  As it's last effects sat him down in the seat facing back toward his home and his parents, and Destiny, there was a terrible sound.  His hands flung up to cover his ears, but his eyes closed tight too late to avoid witnessing his parents both stripped of their flesh where they stood by Destiny's deadly spell.
 
 "Noooooooo!," he wailed, "She killed them!"  Emwonk collapsed into grief and horrified moans at what he's seen from the back of the wagon.
 
 Destiny climbed aboard moments later after fastening a padlock to keep the two children in the back of the wagon secure.  She spoke to the man, "It is done.  To Dregar."
 
 He replied, "Yes, my master."
 
 Emwonk gathered enough of his wits to turn to his sister and speak to her, "Betti....  Betti she killed mom and dad!"  But Betti merely sat in silence, as though not hearing his words.  Perhaps herself under the control of Destiny still.  Emwonk questioned the realization and gently took hold of her shoulder, "Betti?"  A moment waiting for some response, "Betti?  No... she's spelled you too!"  He felt completely alone then.  Helpless, and impotent in his capture.  He curled again into a sobbing, howling ball of an agonized child until pain built in his head and there was a sudden flash.  The first painful flash is followed by another, and another until he wakes again in the inn.
 
 His parents had not betrayed him, the dreams had revealed.  They had been bespelled by Destiny, just as he had been.  Their minds dominated by her magic to act as she willed them to.  Worse yet, he had seen them die at Destiny's hands now countless times in his nightmares of that painful separation.  She had sent Emwonk to join his sister in the wagon, and compelled by her magic he had no choice but to go.  When he turned again to look to his parents one last time he witnessed Destiny stripping them of their flesh in an instant with the strength of her magic.
 
 Emwonk contemplated it all, and wondered of the future sessions he might have with Sister Bernice, and what dreams may come...

[Nehetsrev]

Novlar 9, 1486

As he continued to recover from the latest session with Sister Bernice, Emwonk contemplated another troubling area of concern. During the dream-memories, Elohanna had detected someone scrying upon at least herself, if not all of them there in the room. Given the level of warding Andrew and Elohanna had taken pains to have established over the whole of the Silverbuckle Inn for all of their guests sakes, this information troubled Emwonks mind more an more each passing day. Who had been scrying? They must be very accomplished at it and powerful to overcome the magic protections in place. More importantly, who was the true target of their efforts? Emwonk felt nearly certain that he was the main target.

Likely, he reasoned to himself, it was the Wardens or one or more of their agents. Possibly it had even been Destiny herself, or Saida? He had stayed at the Silverbuckle for too long, and now they were preparing to close in on him. Yet, how could he run away when his only chance of recovering his own mind lay in the hands of Sister Bernice, and all her special equipment had been set up here at the Inn? Though, come to think of it, it didn't seem like she'd brought more than a few vials of her elixirs to any of the sessions so far. Perhaps a new location could be found elsewhere? But then, could it be made secure? Was it too late now to elude the Wardens and choose such a new location? Perhaps it was time to call in more 'soldiers' for his protection instead, in case the Wardens tried to capture him?

[Nehetsrev]

Oclar 11, 1487
 
 Gathering his belongings, Emwonk crept out of the room at the Silverbuckle Inn.  The room in which he'd spent over a year undergoing treatments with Sister Bernice Concordia to heal his mind.  With a small degree of nostalgia he turned and surveyed the inn room one last time.  He gazed into the room, and memories from the final session of only a few days earlier surfaced into his mind.
 
 In his mind's eye he stood in the middle of a huge chamber, much of which seemed constructed of iron.  Metal pipes traced lines up, down, and across much of the area, carrying who knew what within.  He turned, noticing something from teh corner of his eye.  When he looked it was gone, but for a moment he thought he'd seen her again, alive.
 
 "Butterfly?," his voice questioned the empty air hopefully.
 
 Another voice spoke up, "There you are."  Turning back now, before him stood his sister, Betti.  She was clothed in a dark robe, and wore a belt filled with many small vials of glowing blue liquid.
 
 "Hello Betti.  Where are we?," Emwonk questioned his sister.
 
 She cocked an eyebrow at his question, and looked at him in a way that seemed filled with anger as she snapped, "The Works.  The hells is wrong with you?"
 
 He regarded her a moment longer, not understanding the change that had come over her, or perhaps not wishing to.  At last he spoke again to ask, "Why are we here?  Is this where Destiny took us?"
 
 "You're unwell.  Here.  Have some more drink," she answered, shoving one of the vials of glowing blue liquid at him, and drinking down one herself.
 
 Emwonk recognized it for what it was, the "Bad Soup" the Wardens had forced upon him while he was in captivity.  Quickly his hand struck out and he cried in shock, "No!   That's poison!"  Betti kept her grip on the vial and pushed his hand away.  "Don't drink it, Betti!," he exclaimed, trying to disuade her from imbibing the vile concoction.
 
 It was too late, and she gulped down the contents and answered him, "This is true power."
 
 "It'll change you.  And not in good ways," he tried to tell her with all his emotion.
 
 "It suits me just fine, as it does you, star pupil," she argued, "They love you."  Her voice now was full of such jealousy, he scarcely knew her.  This wasn't his sweet little sister.  But she had to be.  Emwonk's mind raced, he had to save her, to get her away from the Wardens and their corrupting influence.  She was all he had left.
 
 "You're wrong.  They just want to use us," he tried to persuade her.
 
 "No they don't.  We're finally becoming what we should have long ago," she answered in a voice filled with poison and ice, "And you're the best at it.  You're so lucky."  How much jealousy did her heart hold against him?  How could she have changed so much from the sister he knew?
 
 He had to try to convince her, "No, it's a curse!"  His mind grasped for more words to change her mind, "Don't you understand Betti?  They want us to be their slaves, their weapons."
 
 She growled back at him, "We have work to do.  We don't have time for this."
 
 "They killed mom and dad, for the love of the gods!  I saw Destiny kill them!," he pleaded, hoping that the memory of their parents would snap her out of this hateful state of mind.  While she continued to stare at him he began looking franticly for a way out of the chamber, someplace, anyplace they could run to get away.  Grabbing hold of her hand and beginning to try to pull her along with himself, "You're right Betti, we dont have time.   We need to get out of here!"
 
 She resisted, but was plunged forward by the strength of his grip having been caught off-guard. "I'm not going anywhere!," she yelled, planting her feet.  Still, Emwonk continued to try to pull her with him, shouting, "Come on!"
 
 "No!  Stop!," she shouted at him and pulled back, trying to get loose from his grip.
 
 "We have to go, Betti!," he urged her with all his heart, fear welling up inside himself as he began to slip into panic.
 
 She continued to resist, struggling against his pulling, "I like it here!"
 
 He tried again to remind her of their parents, "Don't Mom & Dad mean anything to you anymore?"  His hopes that their memory would convince her were let down yet again.
 
 "They're fine, Destiny showed me!  We're her best students!," Betti hollared back at him as she continued to struggle.
 
 He couldn't believe it.  It wasn't possible.  "She showed you a lie!  I saw her skin them alive!"
 
 "No!  I'm not leaving!," Betti shouted, and then she began kicking and screaming, drawing the attention of one of the Wardens who came rushing into the chamber from a hallway to one side.
 
 Emwonk let go Betti's hand, and pleaded with her one last time, "Betti, please!  Come with me!  You're all I have left!"  The Warden was getting too close now, and he decided he must run.  He wouldn't, couldn't allow himself to be caught by them again.  He franticly looked for another exit as he ran off, leaving his sister behind while tears trailed from his eyes.
 
 He ran through a curtain of beads and into a twisting passage.  Fear drove him forward.  Fear drove thoughts of his sister from his mind until all he could think of was escape as he ran blindly down the unfamiliar corridor.  Passing through another curtain of beads he skidded abruptly to a halt.  A figure in a dark robe stood before him, clutching a staff and full of crackling power.  He could have been looking into a mirror were it not for the difference in clothing, and the figure's purplish hair.
 
 "Who-who are you?," Emwonk croaked to the stranger with winded breaths and a tremor of fear and dread.  He began backing away, back through the beaded curtain.
 
 The figure spoke in his own voice, but colder, as though without feeling, "Who are you?  Did you forget where you came from?"
 
 Emwonk's own mind raced, stumbling for answers to this puzzle, "No!  You're with Destiny, arent' you!  You're one of them!"  Fear drove him to run back down the hallway he'd just come from before he could even hear the figure's answer begin behind himself.
 
 "No, Emwonk....," his voice trailed off behind him, and he ran for all he was worth, calling out to the near doppleganger, "I don't believe you!"
 
 The hallway ended and he found himself running through another large chamber of metal plates and twisting pipes.  Iron stairs and scaffolding.  His feet made hollow clangings with each pounding step.  To one side the cold voice, his cold voice, began again, "It is not who I am... it is who YOU are."
 
 A realization dawned in his mind and he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the almost mirror image of himself, "Wait...  You called me Emwonk?"
 
 "It is who you are," the other one said again.
 
 "What?," Emwonk became confused, "My name is Dante.  Or...or ....Darwin?"  He clutched at his head, the world around him seemed to spin with the disorientation.  More and more confusion merged with the ever growing fears in his mind.
 
 The other went on while the torrent of dizzying confoundment in his own head continued, "No, your name is Derrick.  And you took on that ridiculous name of Emwonk and the language you speak to escape ME.  Your reality.  I am you."  The cold, empty voice paused, allowing the statements to sink in, and then continued, "I am the only one that really knows you, because I -AM- you."
 
 It was too much.  It couldn't be.  He couldn't be this cruel, emotionless, sinister person now before himself.  He rejected the thoughts, "No!  I can't be you!"
 
 "Face it.  You are," the voice that was and wasn't his mocked.
 
 "No!  It's not true!," Emwonk railed against the notion.
 
 Derrick spoke again, "Denial.  It's fine."  He stepped closer, confident and domineering.  "Natural, really."  Silence stretched for a long second, then Derrick added, "Hells, almost expected.  After what we... I ... you... did.  Here."  He swept his arm to motion around at the cavernous chamber of iron stretching out all around them.
 
 A spark of defiance, of hope, began to grow within Emwonk.  He knew the Current, it guided him, it lent him strength.  "The Current would tell me if it was true!  I don't believe you."
 
 Derrick let loose a hollow sounding laugh.  If mirth could be accomplished without the sound of emotion, then he had done so.  "You ARE the current."
 
 While in a way it was true, it was not the truth.  Emwonk knew better.  "No!  The Current is everything!"  Fear and confusion began to evaporate away beneath the sunlight of his belief.  Where once was a flood, an ocean, now it receeded and in his mind he could picture himself standing on solid ground.  When Emwonk spoke again, the fear was gone from his voice, "I'm just a tiny part of it.  We all are."
 
 Derrick didn't seem to notice the change.  He began, "Do you know how many people you tortured and killed here at 'school'?  How many you electrocuted with your spells and powers?  The powers which all came from this..."  Pulling forth a small vial of the glowing blue liquid, Derrick held it up before himself.  "You practically created this magical fluid."
 
 "You're lying!  The Wardens made it!  They forced me to drink it!," Emwonk retorted, his voice filling not with fear and confusion, but now with a righteous indignation, "I would never hurt anyone I didn't have to."
 
 Derrick laughed his empty, void laugh again.  "You did.  To save Betti.  She's a terrible student."
 
 The accusation was unexpected.  "Betti?," Emwonk questioned.
 
 "Betti.  You know when we finally ran?," Derrick replied, planting again a seed of doubt, and shame.
 
 Emwonk grappled with it in his mind, replaying the scene of moment ago when he'd struggled with his sister.  "What do you mean?"
 
 "The night we left the care of the wardens," Derrick began explaining, "And ran through the swamps... and the hills.. and started speaking in this... thing you call a language.  The one in your head."
 
 Emwonk knew now it was just a tactic to subvert his will.  It had been the blue liquid that had caused his mind to scism and impare his ability to communicate, hadn't it?  He said as much, "The blue liquid caused that!  That Bad Soup!"
 
 Derrick shrugged it off, "We like the liquid, from it comes our strength, without it, we are weak."
 
 Weak?  Emwonk thought about all the times he had done great things since he had escaped the Wardens.  His escape itself was a profound testament to his strength of will, but it was not the only one.  There had been Ezlab and Gimbol, the Jungle Fever, several encounters with Destiny and Lady Saida.  All had shown he could endure.  Perhaps in just himself he was weak in many ways, but he realized that where he was weak he could draw upon the infinite strength of the Current to overcome.  He drew upon it now to give foundation to his words, "No, The Current is all the strength we need.  You're mistaken."
 
 "The liquid is our strength, the elixir," Derrick tried again, "You are strong and an up and coming warden in the ranks."
 
 "No.  The liquid is a pervertion made by the Wardens, in their efforts to control us, and everything," Emwonk stated solemnly and with conviction, "I would never join the Wardens."
 
 Derrick pushed against Emwonk's solid wall of will, ineffectually, "The Wardens are strong, you did join them, the minute you were brought here."
 
 Emwonk shook his head at the words, "No, not by my own choice.  They killed my parents.  I would never help them."
 
 Still, Derrick persisted, "They sought your strength and the strength of your sister, to add to their own.  You and her and one of them."
 
 Emwonk knew it was time.  "If you are part of me, then you are a part of me I will no longer tollerate."
 
 "Don't blame me for your failures, for your cowardice, for running that night," Derrick prodded him with each word, "I am the strength still within you."
 
 Emwonk straightened in ever-growing confidence, "That was never a failure.  And you are not a part of me."
 
 "You have repressed me long enough, it is time to return here, to what we, you, I are and were.  What we can become," the near-doppleganger of his own mind offered temptingly, "Our power can be limitless."
 
 "No.  You're wrong.  It is time I removed you from hindering me," Emwonk would not be tempted.
 
 Derrick looked at him with the first signs of any emotion, "I will always be a part of you, but not the part of you that is cowardice.  The part that ran.  The part that left Betti here," disgust filled Derrick's voice, "You were the greatest executioner ... Emwonk."
 
 "I didn't have a choice.  She was lost to them... but I will return for her," he explained to his other self, "You are nothing but a lie."
 
 "Betti was nothing.  You are the strength.  The legacy of the Wardens.  The GREAT Wardens."
 
 With a righteous fury growling in his throat Emwonk pronounced, "Oh, I AM the Strength!  But not of the Wardens.  I follow the Current!"
 
 "The Current!,"  Derrick roared with laughter now, "You ARE the current, you fool!"
 
 "No.  No, I'm not.  As I told you, I'm just a part of it," he restated as he brought his hands up bear, "It is time to return you to the Current.  Perhaps you will be made new, and useful this time."
 
 Derrick tried to belay him with more words, "Reach deep, bring me back, complete what we started here."
 
 Emwonk unleashed upon Derrick a scintilating sphere of crakling electrical energy.  The flash of the overhwelming and unchained power drowned out the scene in bluish-white light.  Yet after, Derrick stood unscathed.
 
 "Complete our mission, our destiny.  To lead the wardens," he spoke in his efforts to sway Emwonk.
 
 Emwonk unleashed another blast, and another.  Each one filled with increasing power drawn from Emwonk's connection to the Current within himself.  The Halfling, Derrick, could hardly seem to concentrate on him anymore.  In a high pitched, extremely agitated voice he screamed, "How could it have happened, how?"  He began turning back and forth, as though looking for something.
 
 With the force of his full conviction Emwonk commanded Derrick, "Return to the Current!"
 
 Derrick looked back at him with each bolt of energy that sturck, his voice now filled with desparation, "You can't destroy yourself!"
 
 With an almost feral snear at his other, Emwonk pronounced a final judgement, "But you ARE NOT ME!"
 
 Derrick began to fade, to disintegrate, it no longer took being struck by Emwonk's blasts to cause the change, it was only by his strength of will, yet Derrick pleaded one last time, "Look deeper, you'll find me... us... you... I.... ... ... ..."
 
 "I can change, and I refuse to allow you to be part of that!," Emwonk spoke to the phantom traces of the image of Derrick, and at that they were gone completely.
 
 His mind was whole once more.
 
 The dreamworld faded to black around him, and slowly light hedged in through narrowed eyes.  He lay facing up to the ceiling of the room in the Silverbuckle, and as the blur around him crystalized he recognized Andrew leaning over himself and Elohanna with concern.  Sister Bernice also set at the edge of her seat watching as he awoke.
 
 "That seemed to go well," the tired looking Andrew commented as Emwonk propped himself up into a sitting position.  Elohanna, who had taken an elixer meant to allow her to scry in on Emwonk's dream, still lay unconscious next to him.
 
 Andrew held Elohanna's hand in his own, and expecting her to awaken at the same time was now growing concerned for her.  "Come on sugar," Andrew said to the unconscious Elf.  Another moment passed and still she did not respond.  "Minu? Love?," Andrews questioning voice spoke with aprehension.
 
 Emwonk reached a hand out, allowing arcs of static to flow over and into Elohanna, sensing for her vitals.  She was alive, and it seemed asleep, but he couldn't nto discern if she would awaken any time soon.  He tried to allay Andrew's fears, "Emwonk...I...cognates...think...Elohanna, good grounding....she...flow....will be....nominal...okay."  He felt a strange sensation within himself as he spoke the words, staggered and halting as they were.  Control of his own tongue was almost like a new experience to him after years of it behaving of it's own accord, substituting other words for those he had thought.  He could feel it taking hold though and this at first put a smile on his face.
 
 Andrew's head snapped to meet Emwonk's gaze.  The man was surprised as he himself, perhaps more so, to hear the change in his speech.  "Em...are you hearing yourself?  How do you feel?"
 
 Emwonk noticed Elohanna's eyelids begin to open very groggilly, and himself rubbed at his own eyes which felt heavy yet.  He could hear the scratching of writing quill on parchment moving at blurred speed as Sister Bernice scrambled to take notes.  "Alternate...different?," he answered Andrew.
 
 "Different," a slow smile began to spread across Andrews features as he went on, "I've never  heard you use that word, Em.  Ever."  His excitement grew it seemed, with each word.
 
 Elohanna yawned and continued to rub at her eyes, and Emwonk prodded her with a small static shock to quicken her awakening, which caused her to yelp, "Ouch!  Emmie be nice."
 
 "The first time?," Bernice questioned from across the room in regards to Andrew's comment of a moment ago.
 
 More concerned with the yelping Elohanna, Andrew commented to Emwonk, "Hey, easy Em."  He then looked into Elohanna's eyes questioningly, "What happened?"
 
 As Emwonk set for a few moments, thinking of everything that had happened in the dream, he gave Andrew and Elohanna some time for eachother.  Andrew stopped asking questions for the moment and started singing to Elohanna as he was often want to do.  The sound soothed Emwonk also, and aided his thinking, allowing his mind to relax enough to get things in real order.
 
 "Emwonk cognates Emwonk excised alternate internal cognative entity.  Cognate?," he finally began attempting to explain to Sister Bernice.  He spoke in his mixed-up way now, not because he couldn't speak otherwise, but because he chose too.  He hoped he wouldn't have to speak "normally" to explain, and that Sister Bernice would understand.
 
 "Cognative entity?," Bernice sounded puzzled by the phrase.
 
 Andrew stepped in to translate, "Someone in his mind."
 
 Emwonk re-phrased, "Alternative personification."
 
 Sister Bernice seemed intrigued and asked, "What can you tell me about it?"
 
 "It is gone now.  Recycled into the Current," Emwonk explained to her, taking the easy route and speaking as they would.
 
 Andrew blinked at his sudden clarity.  Elohanna, who had witnessed the dream-world, lay quietly, allowing him to explain it for himself if he chose.
 
 Bernice continued to write franticly in her notes, looking up to say, "Yes, please go on."
 
 "Additonal verbals possibly causal recurrance," Emwonk stated.  It was a lie.  He felt sure the Derrick personality was gone for good, but he wanted an acceptible exscuse to continue speaking as he felt it was himself to do.  After years, even decades, of speaking in his odd way and striving for it to end, he had now come to accept it as a vital part of who he was, odd as that seemed.  Perhaps though, he should not lie to this person who had worked hard to earn his trust and aid him?  He decided to be honest after all, "I think I have the ability to speak... normally.  Emwonk accepts null verbal standard.  Communications dysfunction equals fraction Emwonk."  He hoped that made it clear that he wished now to continue his odd pattern of speaking, but didn't have to if he didn't want to.
 
 Emwonk suspected that both Andrew and Elohanna had understood, for both of their faces lit up with wide grins.
 
 Andrew leaned closer and spoke in hushed, but excited tones, "Just wait until you see Jez now..."
 
 Shaking his head to Andrew, "Null.  Emwonk requires liberate Betti entity, eradicate Wardens."  He wanted to make the point that he had a mission to complete, there would be no time, or safety for romance now, though he still had feelings for Jez.  Andrew nodded his understanding.
 
 "What other... alternate verbals? ... were in the dream?," Bernice began to question again, "... or is it entities...?"
 
 Emwonk decided he owed Sister Bernice at least a simple explaination, and that it would simple be more efficient to speak plainly for her benefit.  He began, "I will choose this once to speak as you, only to clarify what has occured.  The way I speak, is part of who I am now.  They way you speak.. the way I once spoke, is part of the personality that was inside me, that wished to aid the Wardens, that craved power over life."  He paused here to allow what he said to sink in, and then added, "It spoke only lies."  After another moment of thought Emwonk decided more should be said, "He did help me, though.  To see more clearly what I must do.  To choose what I am, and now am not."
 
 The others were now rapt in near disbelief.  None had ever heard him speak so clearly ever before, except Elohanna overhearing him speak in his dream-memory.  He waited to explain while Sister Bernice continued to write in her notes as quickly as she could, hie current pause giving her some little time in which to catch up.  Sensing her near to catchign up he began again, "My sister, Betti, remains in the control of the Wardens.  I must free her, if she will choose to be freed.  And I must continue my crusade to end the Wardens.  I am Emwonk T'noduoy.  You don't know me.  But I know myself," with the last he smiled and added with a touch of mirth, "Cognate?"
 
 Both Elohanna and Andrew reached hands over to his shoulder in congratulations, and Emwonk was amused to allow some current to flow into them and cause their hair to stand on end.  Sister Berince, focussed as she was intently on her notes, paid no mind and confirmed with nodding, "I do understand."
 
 Andrew offered, "You're going to have some help against those Wardens, I dare say."  He hadn't yet noticed his own hair standing on end, but Elohanna's had puffed up beneath her hood and he laughed.  Realizing at that moment that he too had been charged, he pulled his hand off Emwonk's shoulder with a, "Hey!"  Emwonk couldn't help but smirk.
 
 Solemnly, and significantly he included Sister Bernice along with the other two in his thanks to them all, "Gratitudes, Elohanna, Andrew, Bernice, good groundings."  Again, he hope Sister Bernice understood the honor he now bestowed on her as a trusted friend.  She remained silent, and began to pak up her things while Andrew and Elohanna each took a turn replying.
 
 "You did it Emmie, you made the choice yourself to do what was right," Elohanna smiled proudly at him.
 
 "You are most welcome," Andrew said to Emwonk.  He turned next to Sister Bernice, "Truly wonderful, Sister Bernice.  Can I assist you?"
 
 Elohanna thanked her sister also, "Sister Bernice we owe you a great deal for helping our friend."
 
 In her cool manner, Sister Bernice replied, "I am pleased to have aided in his journey."  She turned then to Emwonk and said, "I wish you good groundings... subject 342 alpha."  Then she winked, displaying the first bit of casual emotion that Emwonk recalled seeing from her.
 
 Moments later the others had cleared out of the room, leaving Emwonk to rest and recover after that final session.
 
 He'd had several days to reflect since then, and now he stood on the precipice of leaving.  He was sure he'd be returning to visit the Silverbuckle often enough, but as was his way it was unlikely he would ever stay in one place so long ever again.  At least, not until the Wardens had been dealt with, and his sister was recovered.  If she could be recovered.  His final, thoughtful gaze into the room came to an end, and he turned and left quietly.  There was no need to say any goodbyes, he was certain to see his friends again.  Going down the stairs and through the common room, he made his way to a darkened doorway, and allowed the shadows of the night of Mariner's Hold to swallow him from sight.

[Nehetsrev]

Apreal 26, 1488
 
 Emwonk wandered into the crossroads, just outside the gates of Fort Vehl, leaving the city behind himself.  He contemplated momentarilly the events that had unfolded so recently.  The Gnomish lass, one of the residents of Silverbuckle that Emwonk had seen in the halls during his time there, had spoken of how she was being plagued by undead.  She had warned even that now the Silverbuckle, and all it's staff and residents were targetted by the same curse that she herself bore.  Of there being a curse, there was no question, the multitude of various undead beings that he, the Gnomish lass, Andrew's son, the Rofireinites Daniel & Samantha and others had encountered on their return trip from high in the Brech Mountains, was evidence enough.  There had been a single being behind the attacks, or at least one Emwonk had detected and seen.  The powerful witch had watched and directed her minions from atop the walls of Fort Vehl, and later disappeared into one of the towers near the docks.  Red robes and short, black hair... Emwonk hadn't seen her face clearly since she'd had her back to him the entirety of the time he'd watched her.  If he hadn't already been so drained from fighting all the undead on the way down from the mountains, he may have attempted to strike her down from behind.  Yet he'd sensed she was overwhelmingly powerful, and decided discretion was the wiser course.  After she'd disappeared into the wall-tower, Emwonk had lead the others back to it.  His own attempts to pick the lock of the door having failed miserably and resulted in a broken pick.  Somehow Andrew's son had managed to open the lock, and went inside to scout.  He reported seeing undead, and traps, and a maze of tunnels beneath the city.  If the group had persisted in trying to follow the mysterious woman into that lair of hers, Emwonk would have spoken against it, but it turned out they were wise enough to know they would need much more experienced help to deal with this foe.
 
 Emwonk wondered whether he should help them further as he continued his walk out of town.  It would be the moral thing to do, but he was still disparite about making the choice.  Common sense said they'd likely be over-matched, and that helping would put him into a situation of unnescessary risk to himself.  So what though?  He'd risked himself to help others before, though always with the thought of doing so maximizing his own gain in some way.  It could be argued that among these others he might find additional allies who would join him in his fight against the Wardens, and that helping them would bind their loyalty to himself.  For that reason alone it would likely be worthwhile to help them, but only if risks could be minimized.  What good would it do any of them to be defeated by this new foe for a simple lack of proper knowledge, after all?
 
 It would be best to bide their time, and find ways to precisely measure the woman's true level of power.  How many undead of what strengths could she control at one time?  What other magics might she be able to command to defend herself with?  Did she have accomplices, and allies?  How many, and how powerful might they be?
 
 Emwonk had the sinking feeling that none of them knew enough about any of it yet to know what kind of turbulent and dark waters they were really wading into. If they weren't already in far over their heads?  If he kept out of this, did he know for certain the woman may not continue to target him anyway?  He had stayed for a lengthy time at the Silverbuckle, after all, and still considered Andrew and Elohanna good friends.
 
 The reasons for helping seemed to outweight those for not.
 

• He couldn't risk alienating Andrew and Elohanna by not supporting Andrew's son, or their residents.
• Morally, it would be the right thing to do.
• He had the opportunity to gain even more allies.

He would help Miss Melody, and the others.  But, he would not stumble along blindly.  More data was required, and more allies.

[Nehetsrev]

Mai 4, 1488
 
 His lecture at the Tower Academy had gone well.  He had expected more persons to attend, but was thankful for those that did nonetheless.  He had tried to convey some of the basic foundational principals about The Current which he himself believed he understood, and the reception had been fair.  Some of those attending had even shown themselves exceptionally bright-minded.  He would have to keep his eyes on these, and try to cultivate their loyalty to himself.  The Tower Academy might yet prove to be a valuable recruiting ground for soldiers to aid in his war against the Wardens.  Only time would tell.
 
 Still, Emwonk wondered if it wouldn't serve him better to speak like others did.  It might allow him to explain his ideals and goals more quickly and efficiently.  Yet there was something to be said for the way he chose to speak that stimulated minds, opening them up to new ideas.
 
 The Current, as he understood it, was primarilly a creative power.  While certainly there was destruction inherent to the cycle, it was in balance.  What changed over eons was the refinement of the positive toward ever superior incarnations, or so Emwonk believed.
 
 While the topic of the Gods had been touched on during his first lecture, he felt that perhaps it should be delved into more thoroughly at his next.  He wanted to convey that though the Gods served as interfaces with, and conduits of the Current, they were not nescessary for the Current's continued cycling.  However, they were examples of refined incarnations of Current themselves.  He believed they hindered mortals from achieving the same ascension, whether by intent or unintensional means.  They certainly exerted a greater degree of resistance, or influence upon the flow of other incarnations of the Current such as mortals.  One day he might ascend to their level himself, and be able to effect some degree of change there.  For now he must do the Current's will by opposing and eliminating those that would pervert it's flow in the mortal plane to their own advantage and destructive whims.  The Wardens must be eradicated.

[Nehetsrev]

Mai 26, 1493
 
He'd been lax in his efforts as of late.  The world hadn't seen enough of him.  He knew he needed to get out and recruit more persons to aid in his efforts, but something had dulled the desire in him to do so.  He often recalled the dream-memories Sister Bernice Concordia had helped him to unlock during their sessions.  Perhaps his constant thinking on them was why he found himself now having not been as dilligent to pursuing his goals as he should have been.
 
In the course of those resurfacing images Emwonk had discovered that the Wardens were not nescessarilly limitted in membership to Dark Elves.  What then were they?  He'd pondered over this puzzle for some time.  They had to be part of something with great clout and power, he reasoned, or they would not have been able to go on abducting children and slaying families as it seemed to him they had been doing for some time.  Yet they must remain covert as well in some respect.  They tended to act behind the scenes.  They subverted those officials they could, and avoided detection by those they couldn't.  They must have cells in many places on all continents, he duduced.  That, or they at the least had a respectable network of informants.  Their repeated tracking of his own person indicated at least that much, didn't it?
 
Perhaps, instead of recruiting agents of his own without knowing what they'd be up against, or where to begin striking, was not the optimal mission at this time.  Instead, maybe, it was time Emwonk did more digging himself?  "Know thy enemy," the Current seemed to be whispering to him faintly in the back of his mind.  Why hadn't he heard it before now?  Too many distractions?  Too much focus on thoughts of his own army-building, when in fact he should have been listening?
 
He realized, unless he changed his mode of speech, his own driect gathering information about the Wardens would be severely hampered.  It could be that this might be a job better suited for others with better skills in sniffing out secrets than he had at his disposal.  Who did he know that could help?   Andrew, certainly he had the skills needed... but using him may put one of Emwonk's best resources and allies at risk.  Especially since he was nearly certain the Wardens already knew of Emwonk's association with mister Reid.  No, he'd have to find someone else to ensure the least risk of exposure.  Could he afford to trust someone else though?
 
He would have to ponder this further...