Consequences

As Scarlett trained and learned with Debwynn, Ciara and Darruk made their way through the gates of the ancient city of Memnon two days later. They travelled mostly in silence, with Ciara obviously preoccupied with worry and in a foul mood. For his part, Darruk tried to remain upbeat. He liked the desert, being warm and even liked the sand as much as one could. The horse that Ciara had procured wasn't too foul tempered so he'd little to complain about.

The guards let them pass through the great stone gates without any delays or too many questions, and Ciara guided the horse to the temple district of the holy city with its thousand obelisks adorned with a thousand different Gods. The streets of baked clay shimmered with heat as it neared the afternoon, the sun's harsh glare was unrelenting as it reflected off the adobe homes and shops. After an hour of wandering through the maze like streets and alleys, they came to a seemingly unadorned storm cellar entrance behind a raucous tavern.

Ciara knocked with three crisp raps, followed by one more and another, then sat back and waited. A disembodied voice filled the air after a moment, "What is your court and with whom is your pact?" Darruk blinked in confusion as the source of the voice couldn't be seen. Ciara removed her head and face covering before replying in a whisper.

"The courts are dead and the pact is broken. I live free."

At her phrase, the doors popped open slightly, a silent invitation to continue. Ciara looked at Darruk, who sprung to action swinging one heavy door open. Cool darkness yawned before them, and a blast of chilled air carried a rich scent of incense and wet earth into the dry afternoon heat. Ciara moved quickly and Darruk followed dutifully, letting the door close gently behind them. They stood on the stairs for a moment, letting eyes adjust to the near total darkness, which since all of the Black Mask's members all had darkvision, seemed a good way as any to keep the unwelcome out.

Continuing down the stone steps, Ciara's vision began to brighten with subterranean mosses and fungi all shedding various shades into the infrared spectrum. She looked back at Darruk, his eyes glowing a dull red in the dark, and nodded her satisfaction that he was there. She put a finger to her lips and he nodded, the message clear: Keep quiet. The two of them emerged into a semi circular cavern, the light near blinding to darkvision, as several veins of some sort of crystal also shed its own brand of infrared into the room. An intricately carved statue stood upon a granite altar at the back of the cavern, and was placed so that all of the light veins in the walls seemed to flow into it.

The statue was that of a robed Elven wizard, a halo of lightning and radiant energy carved around his head. Its handsome and delicate features seemed twisted in a snarl as it extended one tapered finger towards an unseen foe. With the other hand, a finely crafted elven sword seemed to be cutting a great swatch of cloth. Darruk stood by the entrance of the room while Ciara knelt before the altar and began to whisper a prayer in the elven tongue.

"Bless me, Great Liberator, and forgive my missteps and foolish judgement. I come, as always, to your feet seeking knowledge, seeking wisdom, please look upon my efforts with grace." She finished the prayer with eyes closed and silence hung in the air like a lead weight. A shimmer appeared in the air around the statue and a feeling of dread along with the scents of ozone and dried blood filled the room. A lithe figure clad in a dark, gauzy robe stepped from the shadows behind Ciara, hands folded before her chest and when she spoke every hair on the back of Ciara's neck stood on end.

"Who are you to beseech God for his blessing? What child of man stands before the King of Elf and Man?"

Ciara had been through this many times before, yet her heart still skipped a beat and her mouth felt dry. She hesitated a moment before answering, any shown weakness would be fatal in this profane place. "I am a daughter of man and elf, I am Ciara d'Alqueri, student of magic and devout of His Blessed Name. I wear the Black Mask to honor him and I serve at your whim, Great Priestess."

Darruk watched nervously as the figure removed her own hood to reveal honey blonde hair which cascaded down to her mid back. Finely pointed elven ears reached skyward through the curls and ringlets, and in the dark her eyes glowed an icy cyan. "Greetings, Sister Ciara, and welcome to this blessed place." Ciara exhaled in obvious relief. "Report."

Still bowing before the altar, not daring to look back at the Priestess, Ciara took a deep breath before speaking. "Both artifacts elude me still, Learned one. We have, however, found evidence and a trail for both. We believe that the traitor Maegwyn passed at least one of them to her apprentice before the poison became fatal. It's likely she knew what had happened and took steps to elude us before she passed." Ciara stopped for a moment before adding, "The other is loose, we found evidence of destruction bearing its resonance on the way here. A whole caravan murdered, no trace of the victims or what killed them, unless one knows what to look for."

Darruk stifled a snort from where he stood, 'We' indeed. The Priestess absorbed this information for a few seconds before speaking. "Continue. I can sense there is more you are not saying."

"The ancient enemies are also seeking the trail, Mistress. One of their agents confronted us as we investigated the caravan site. One of the Angelkin." This drew a sharp intake of breath from the elf woman, and she placed a delicate hand on Ciara's shoulder.

"And did you kill it?" The tone was flat, carrying implicit dread.

"N-no, Mistress." Ciara gave a sharp gasp as the hand on her shoulder began to glow faintly, wracking pain seared up and down her spinal column. After a three count, the woman removed her hand, and Ciara slumped forward, careful not to touch the altar or statue. "The coward fled after I unravelled the magic holding my bodyguard, who foolishly attacked before further information could be gleaned."

Darruk stood frozen in fear at being scapegoated. The woman turned to look upon him, and smiled almost kindly, the half-ogre felt his blood turn cold. While holding him with her gaze, she spoke to Ciara again. "Pity. Do you know where either one of the artifacts actually went, Ciara?"

"Y-yes, Mistress. Vaguely. I think I can find the apprentice given enough time, and for some reason I think the other artifact is also seeking its mate. Why else would it have struck that caravan, if not to find its other half? I beg you for mercy and time, Mistress. We will find them, one will lead us to the other, and both will be ours!" She shuddered and spasmed as the pain slowly subsided.

Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity before the priestess spoke again. "One more chance, Ciara d'Alqueri. Thank your God for this grace."

Ciara exhaled with relief. "Thank you, great God, savior of the People, avenger of our wrongs! Blessed be his name, though I am not worthy to speak it."

The priestess, still looking at Darruk, sighed in a bored tone. "Yes, you are. You may leave Ciara, we will expect to hear from you in a week. With results. However, some punishment must be meted out this day." Parsing what the woman was saying about half a second behind, Darruk's eyes widened slightly and he felt the urine trickle down his left leg. The priestess continued coldly, speaking to Ciara as she stood to leave, "Your bodyguard will bear the weight of your failure. Return here tomorrow, he will be given back to you."

Ciara paused at the entrance, Darruk's eyes wide and pleading with her as she stood at the threshold. She'd spent years training and teaching him, he was the closest thing to a companion she'd had in that time. She'd taught him to read simple words, to learn from his mistakes, and she was surprised to feel a bit of hesitation and pity as she prepared to leave. She broke the gaze and turned back to the elven woman.

"As you say, Mistress. May his wisdom guide you and his hatred give you strength." With that, Ciara turned on her heel and strode up the stairs towards the entrance. She saw the betrayal in Darruk's eyes, and look steadfastly at the floor as the woman's words followed her from the darkness.

"Annatar watches, Annatar sees all, Ciara. No more failures."

As the door closed, she heard a deep voice begin to scream in agony.