Tran and Iandas follow you as you make your way over to the left side of the formation. The militiamen eye you warily, not quite sure how to react to your presence. Not bothering you in town is one thing, fighting beside you, well, that's another. Before anything else happens the humanoids appear at the far end of the valley. Everybody drops down or hides behind a tree. Those with bows notch arrows and prepare for the initial volley. You do the same.

You begin to wonder if Cobul is going to let the humanoids pass by when a trumpet call rings through the small vale. Like the thrumming of a hundred bees arrows are loosed to fall among the packed goblins and orcs below. Almost a score go down in the initial volley. With the battle cry "For Jurgenville!" the militiamen without bows surge forward, running down into the valley to engage the hated humanoids. Those with bows loose two more volleys and then pick up their own melee weapons and run down to join their comrades.

Being one of the anchor points you only have to step out a few yards and get ready. You watch as the battle slowly spreads up the arms of the V. The surprise seems to have worked, and the initial attack is going well. But you are painfully aware that humanoids continue to spill into the valley from the opposite end.

The fighting finally reaches your position. At first the humanoids are confused at the sight of a drow elf with hidden eyes fighting alongside the humans. But a few strokes of your enchanted blade convince them you mean business. Soon the battle is joined in full, and it all becomes a blur of swinging swords, pig-faced opponents, and painful strikes which occasionally slip past your defenses.

At one point a troop of what appears to be elite hobgoblin troops rushes your position seeking to roll the left arm of the V back. You and your two companions fight bravely. But soon Iandas has his arm broken and Tran takes a wicked axe blow to his upper leg. You begin to worry about the situation when a loud roar comes from the trees behind you. Everybody, including yourself, spins around. Everyone's head tilts back as the source of the roar is apparent - a huge mountain lion leaping over your position and into the hobgoblins. You all watch in amazement as claws and fangs fly everywhere, decimating the rear ranks of the elite troop. Realizing the chance you've been given you call those around you to redouble their efforts and you fall upon the forward ranks of the hobgoblins. Less than a minute later it is over, the attack is broken.

You look around for your strange savior. You suspect it is a druid or something, but the truth shocks you. The large cat strides over to you and, beneath the blood of a dozen hobgoblins you recognize K'harn’s markings. When you try to speak with her you only get a faint, strained reply. <Must... concentrate... to stay... large. Cannot... talk now.>

You check your beloved for wounds but find none. Her surprise was complete. You then turn to your companions, casting healing spells on both and splinting Iandas' arm to his chest. You are about to go help others close by when another wave of orcs comes surging up towards you and the fighting renews.

Time begins to blur. You have no idea how long you fought there on the side of the valley. You do prove to be the linchpin which anchors the entire left arm of the formation. A few times you have to move further down the line to help repel a particularly violent attack. You become the favorite target for the monsters on your side of the field, but for the most part your magical armor keeps you safe. Still, an occasional lucky blow will slip through. You feel yourself begin to weaken from the dozens of small cuts all over your body.

Your world soon becomes the three feet all around you, as you drive off wave after wave of goblin and orc attacks. Then things begin to change subtly. The goblins are replaced by hobgoblins, which tend to fight as units, not individuals. Soon the situation becomes desperate. You've lost almost half of the people in your line, and the enemy continues to receive fresh reinforcements. You focus your attention with K'harn on one side and Tran on the other, with Iandas covering your back. Raise your sword, strike. Raise your shield, block. Raise your sword, strike... it goes on an on until it seems like this is all you have ever done.

The sound of thunder to your left jolts you out of the tiny world you have been fighting in. At first you fear that the humanoids have somehow managed to flank you. But then to your great relief you recognize the source of the sound - a group of Athena's knights, riding around your position! They pivot and then charge towards the center of the line, scattering monsters before them.

This gives you the first chance you've had in what seems like ages to do what you originally intended to do - tend to the wounded. You, Tran, and Iandas start moving through the ranks, giving relief where you can.

You are bandaging a half-elf's head wound when another group of knights comes riding up. At their head you recognize Sigurd. He hails you and then looks to your side with wide eyes. You realize he is looking at K'harn. "Cobul requests you in the rear" he tells you, still looking at K’harn curiously. "We're going to start slowly pulling back, trading land for time. He wants you in the rear, tending for the wounded as they are brought past. I and my men will take your place." He pauses, looking closely at you. You look down at yourself and see that you are covered in blood. You're not sure how much of it is your own. "Can you make it?" he asks.

You feel more tired that you have ever felt in your life, but you nod your head. "Where do we go?" you ask. Sigurd points out a small group of knights about half way back in the valley. "Cobul is there. You are to meet him and set up an aid station."

You finish securing the bandage to the half-elf and stand up. As you do so the half-elf stops you. You look down at him. He swallows and says "Thank you". You smile, gather your gear, and start moving back, too tired to think about what that must have cost the half-elf to say it. Tran and Iandas follow.

Then something very unexpected happens. As you walk away the militiamen who you have fought beside turn and begin to cheer. With a shock you realize they are cheering for you. You fight back tears. Nobody has ever cheered for you before. You turn and raise your hands, pronouncing Corelleon's blessing upon them. They raise their weapons in salute and then turn back to face the first humanoids to recover from the cavalry charge.

The walk back to where Cobul waits seems like it takes forever. As you are going along K'harn finally speaks to you again. <Mistress...> she calls. You can hear the exhaustion in her mind, far deeper than your own. <Can't.... concentrate... longer. Head.... hurts!>

<Oh, my dear> you reply, <let it go! Now it is my healing skills, not my fighting ones that they need. You have saved my life - and perhaps the lives of all those here... more than once today. Rest now, and know that you have done well!>

The huge K'harn nods and then shrinks back down to normal cat size. She stumbles over to you. You pick her up and place her in your hood before continuing on. Reaching out with your mind you find that she has already fallen asleep.

You reach Cobul and begin to set up your aid station. While you are doing that an elf you vaguely recognize from somewhere walks up and speaks with Cobul. A few minutes later you hear a trumpet blow, and a huge wall of flame bursts into view just beyond the militia lines. This gives the militia their first chance to pull back as the knights cover their retreat.

They begin filing into your aid station. You watch with growing horror as you realize that your side of the line bore up better under the attack than the other. Everyone that stumbles by is wounded in some way, and most of them are carrying an unconscious or dead comrade. You are faced with the heart-wrenching task of triaging the wounded - deciding who is too far gone to help, who you can help, and perhaps worse of all, who can return to the lines to continue fighting. In your heart you feel that not one of these brave souls should be forced to continue fighting, but in your mind you know they must.

Over the course of the next half hour or so you deal with the wounded as best you can. Even one-armed Iandas proves to be a tireless worker, and Tran does all he can to help as well. As you work the defensive line slowly moves back to where you are. Soon you have to move back to the pass leading into the valley.

It is from there that you look up and see that the tide of battle is about to turn. Coming up from town you see Tessalynne leading well over two hundred fresh troops. They sweep by you and set up a strong defensive line near the mouth of the vale. Soon your savaged company is able to retreat past them and rest for the first time all morning.

Better yet, these fresh companies bring with them clerics from town and the bulk of Laila's healers. You exhausted your healing spells long ago, but now you can assign clerics to magically stabilize the badly wounded. For the first time in what seems like hours you stand and stretch. You look out across the valley. It is so littered with corpses and blood that you can't see any trace of the foot of snow which had been on the valley floor this morning. Shaking your head you wonder what is going to happen next.

While the looses taken by the initial militia company were horrific, the new arrivals have done much better - no doubt due to the fact that they have substantial magical, clerical, and cavalry support. Even so, you have tended to scores of wounds in the hour or so that you have been working in the aide station. The trail of wounded has finally let up to the point that Laila’s healers, along with some of the clerics from the all-faith’s temple, have been able to handle all the wounded.

You look forward towards the battle line. More humanoids are entering the valley, but the militia has effectively sealed off the open areas, and now druids and rangers from the area are patrolling the wooded slopes of the small valley, protecting the army’s flanks. You wonder if perhaps Castinar is among those rangers. You occasionally catch glimpses of Sigurd, who is still leading his small group of cavalry up and down the lines.

Something about the masses of humanoids moving forward catches your attention. It takes you a moment to put your finger on it. All morning long figures in dark cloaks have been leading - or perhaps "urging" would be a better term - the humanoids forward. Now a large group of cloaked figures is moving forward themselves. At first you fear this may be a new, more dangerous foe for the Jurgenville Militia to face. But then you figure out what it is about these figures that is bugging you. They move with a slow, jerky motion, almost like puppets on a string. Memories of a small temple in the south of Thornwood surge into your mind - memories of masses of zombies rising from the earth to attack Beleg as he bravely strode forward to face the evil protector of the temple. These figures in the dark cloaks move just like those zombies did.

It takes Tran calling to you before you realize that you are moving towards the battle, your sword once again in your hand. "My Lady!" he calls, "where are you going?" Iandas soon joins him. His arm has been mostly healed, but he still doesn’t have the strength in it he had this morning.

You point towards the cloaked figures. "See that new group moving towards the right flank? I think they are undead. If so, those soldiers down there are going to need my help!"

Tran nods and draws his own sword. "Then we will stand by your side!" Iandas nods and starts looking around for a weapon he can use.

You consider this for a moment. Should you take both with you? Shaking your head you say "Tran, I welcome your offer of support. But Iandas, taking you back into battle now would be foolish." He starts to protest but you raise your hand, stopping him. "I know, I know you want to come. I do not question your bravery, my friend, not after what I saw you do this morning. But you rely on your strength to defend yourself - and me. Your wound has robbed you of that strength. What you still have is your skill, your skill as a healer. Stay here and tend to those who have fallen. They will need your care more than I."

Iandas bows his head and reluctantly agrees. You turn to Tran and he nods. He has picked up a mace from somewhere and is securing it to his belt. "Good idea" you tell him as you look around for a mace of your own. "If any of those undead are skeletons we’ll have to bash them to pieces."

You find your second weapon and the two of you start walking down towards the battle, angling towards the right side. You have only gone about 100 feet when you hear somebody calling out "Dark Lady! Oh Dark Lady!"

Realizing that you are the only person on your side of the fight that this could refer to you look around. Just up-slope from you a little you see almost a score of men sitting on the snow. All bear some wounds, and many cannot rise without help. With a shock you realize this is all that is left from the militia company you fought with this morning. "Dark Lady!" one of the least seriously wounded calls to you, waving you over. "Where are you going?"

Tran accompanies you as you walk over to the militiamen. "There is still fighting to be done this day" you tell the men as they gather around. "Well, for me at least. I believe that group of cloaked figures is zombies. I go to face them."

One of the militiamen, a half-elf that you do not recognize, pulls himself up a little straighter. "Well, if you are going back into battle, so are we!"

The rest of the soldiers respond with a ragged cry of support. Now all of them are trying to get onto their feet, although several fail miserably. You start to protest when Tran takes you by the elbow. "My Lady" he says softly into your ear, "we both know how much these men have already sacrificed. But truth be told we’ll need every sword we can on the line to hold out. Perhaps we should lead those still fit to fight. At least that way we’ll both be around to help them in case something happens."

You reluctantly nod your head. Tran helps you to separate those who can still fight from those who must wait for another day. In all you end up with a full dozen soldiers accompanying you back towards the lines.

The arrival of you and your little band is greeted with cheers from the company you have come to reinforce. They pull apart, allowing you to step forward, right into the face of the enemy. For the first several minutes you again battle against orcs and hobgoblins. Those around you fight with the grim confidence of the tested and you do well driving the hordes back.

A wayward gust of wind brings you your first confirmation that you guessed right. Blowing into you face you smell the reek of death and decay. Looking beyond the orc you are currently fighting you see the cloaked figures not more than 20 feet away. "Zombies" you mutter to yourself. With a small smile you hope that Castinar isn’t anywhere near.

Strangely, the undead hold as you clean up the remaining tribe of orcs facing your side of the line. A nervous pause takes hold over the battlefield in your location as the militiamen watch the strange cloaked figures. Then, on some silent command, the figures tear off their cloaks, revealing the rotting flesh or bare bones beneath. Zombies and skeletons, just as you expected! The militiamen gasp as their eyes widen in horror. Ah, so that is the intent - a dramatic gesture to unsettle the troops. Well, two could play at that game!

Without even thinking about what you are doing you throw back your hood and open your cloak, revealing both your true nature and the holy symbol of Corelleon. You stride forward into the no-man’s-land, and instantly all eyes are upon you. You raise your symbol high above you head and cry out "Abominations of Nature! In the name of Corellon Larethian, High God of all Elves, I command you to BE GONE!"

As you shout out the last two words your symbol glows brightly. The undead at first reel back from the light, but then to your amazement some of the skeletons actually explode into dust. You turn to the left, continuing to concentrate on the wrath of your deity towards these evil creatures, and then to the right. Everywhere you turn the zombies shuffle away from you, and the skeletons burst apart. Seeing this, the militiamen behind you cheer and then surge forward, their fear of the undead forgotten.

The two lines crash together, swords meeting claws. As the fighting surges you continue moving about, driving zombies back when they make progress, and turning skeletons into piles of jumbled bones and dust.

Again you loose track of time as the battle rages. You don’t even draw your sword a single time as your holy symbol and your faith become your weapons. Scores of undead are turned or destroyed by you as you work your way up and down the lines. Tran is ever at your side, fending off any of the creatures which make it close to you. Your militiamen soon learn to quickly fall upon the zombies right after you turn them, and even with their small number they account for scores of dismembered zombies.

What brings you back into the present this time is a feeling that you are being watched. You’ve felt this several times over the course of the day, but this time it is different. This time the attention feels malevolent. You lower your holy symbol and look around, wondering if somebody is watch you. Then you find him. A lone figure stands on a small hillock about 50 feet away, behind the line of undead. Even with Laila’s spectacles it is hard for you to make out much detail at more than a few feet, so you squint, trying to figure out what or who this figure is.

As you look at the figure you realize that this figure is, in fact, your friend. Here all this time you have been fighting with the wrong side! After all, you are drow, far superior to all of these pale surface dwellers. You belong at the side of somebody powerful - somebody like this figure before you.

NO! You shake your head, recognizing the compulsion for what it is - magic. The figure is somehow trying to charm you. You fight the magic and finally prevail. You raise your holy symbol into the air in triumph, and are surprised when the figure seems to shy away from it. What is the strange, heavily cloaked opponent?

So, here is your final decision point. Most of the skeletons and zombies have been taken care of, and the stream of monsters coming into the valley has trickled off. Do you continue fighting on the line? Do you drive forward to try and battle/capture this strange dark opponent? Do you pull back to tend to the wounded again? Or do you try something else? Let me know.

"My Lady, I’m not sure this is a good idea."

"Of course it’s not a good idea, Tran. This guy is obviously some kind of leader, and attacking him is going to be dangerous. But - haven’t you noticed? We’ve seen over a dozen of those strange cloaked figures today, yet every time we’ve tried to get close to one they move away and we loose them. This one is different. It is facing us, challenging us. Now let’s get through these zombies and see what’s hiding under that cloak!"

Tran nods, his reluctance still evident on his face. You sigh. Yes, you understand the danger, but you also understand the possible benefits of capturing or killing one of the leaders. You shake your head. You wish Matar or Sigurd were here. They would be able to capture this mysterious figure easily. You’re a cleric, not a fighter!

You set about helping Tran re-organize your fighters. You are down to less than a score now, and only a handful of them are members of the original company you fought with this morning. They raise a ragged cheer when you tell them what you plan on doing. If only you could feel some of their enthusiasm. Tran quickly forms them up into a wedge formation, with you at the point and he to your left. Turning to face your opponent you prepare for your next confrontation.

Strangely, the cloaked figure has been silently watching you this entire time. He still stands on top of a small hillock a short distance away. Shouting for the militiamen in front of you to part, you lead your wedge through the front line, destroying another half-dozen zombies as you do so. The cloaked figure still watches, unmoving.

In less than a minute you are through the zombie lines, thankfully with few losses. Resetting your shield, you begin to walk slowly towards the figure, ready for anything.

Finally he acts. You expect a spell, or some other fiendish attack, but instead he steps down off the small mound. His arm rises and, although you can’t see the hand, you know he is pointing at you. Very faintly you hear a hollow voice say "We shall meet again, drow!" Later you are not sure whether you actually heard the voice or if it was in your head.

With this the figure gestures towards the hillock and you watch the mound begin to move and then break apart. With growing panic you realize the hill was made up of several creatures curled up on the ground. Your horror only increases when you realize what they are - wights! There are almost a dozen of the cursed creatures. As one they turn and look at the cloaked figure. Then all but one of them turn and look at you and your small group. They grin hungrily.

Raising your holy symbol you strive to turn the undead, but they remain firm. Perhaps your faith is waning, or perhaps the presence of the cloaked figure gives them the strength to resist you. Regardless of the reason, they are not turned. In fact, they begin to slowly shamble towards your formation.

Thus begins the most desperate battle of the morning. Your armor and shield protect you, and you are not hit. However, many of those in your company are not so fortunate. While the claws of the wights are not particularly long or deadly, the coldness of their touch is. Tears begin to fill your eyes as you hear the agonized screams of those behind you as you continue slashing at two of the wights who have come to engage you. You blink away the tears, angry that they are blurring your vision. As you dispatch one of your foes you see something very strange. The hooded figure appears to be talking to the wight that stayed behind. The wight nods, as if in understanding. The figure turns and looks at you one more time. It then raises it’s arms to the sky and slumps to the earth. After your initial shock at this you realize the cloak suddenly went limp, as if whatever was in it suddenly vanished.

The wight catches the cloak as it falls to the ground. Folding it up it turns and begins to lope off, heading towards the rear of the monster’s formation. You curse softly. You would give up a month of baths to find out more about that cloak. Well, ok, maybe a week’s worth.

As you are turning back to finish off your remaining foe your eye is attracted to movement near the trees behind the enemy line. Tessalynne and two other riders burst from the forest and ride hard towards the fleeing wight. The wight sees them, screams, and begins to run. Several nearby ogres move to protect it, but Tessalynne and her outriders blow through them. In the end the wight’s flight is in vain. Tessalynne catches and destroys it, capturing the cloak.

This happens just as you finish off your opponent. You turn to your left to see how Tran is doing. The blood drains from your face when you see a wight with it’s hands wrapped around the young paladin’s throat. With a primal scream you sever the wight’s arms from it’s body in one slash, and then detach its head on the backstroke. Dropping your blade you pry the wight’s hands away from Tran’s throat. You catch him as he falls to the ground.

"So.. cold... so... cold!" he mutters.

"It’s OK, Tran, everything is going to be ok!" But you know in your heart that everything isn’t going to be OK. You are all out of healing magic. Besides, Tran is suffering more from exposure to the negative plane than from his shallow wounds. Once again tears fill your eyes. "Oh Tran! I’m so sorry!"

He blinks several times and finally manages to focus on your face. "My Lady? Where... ? Oh. The leader, did we get him?"

"We drove him off" you tell him as you brush a wayward strand of hair out of his eyes. "And Tessalynne captured his cloak."

"And the battle? How goes the fight?"

You look around and discover that the monster forces are in disarray and retreating throughout the valley. But even this cannot break through the shroud of sorrow that surrounds you as you watch Tran’s skin turning blue.

"We’ve won, Tran! They are retreating. We’ve done it!"

Tran smiles slightly and tries to nod. "Then... the battle is over? I can rest now? I feel so tired... so cold!"

Blinking away the tears you remove Tran’s helm , laying his head in your lap. You then unclasp your cloak and lay it over him. Even through it is torn and covered in mud and blood it seems to provide some degree of comfort to the young man. He smiles and closes his eyes. "Thank you, mother" he mutters.

"No, Tran. Tran! You can’t go to sleep now! You have to stay with me. You have to fight it. Tran! TRAN!!"

With one last shuddering breath Tran collapses into a sleep from which he will never awake. What’s worse, you realize in the back of your mind that he has been killed by a wight, and that his body will have to be destroyed rather than given a proper burial. Your body begins to shake as your emotions finally overcome the discipline you’ve held them back with all morning long. You’ve seen too much death, too much suffering for one person to bear. Lowering yourself over Tran’s body you begin to sob.

It is a good, long cry, but when it is over you feel a little better, at least well enough to press on. You mentally chastise yourself for being so weak. What if those under your command had needed you when you were crying? Wiping your eyes you stand up and look around, trying to figure out what is going on now. Your soul staggers once again when you see that none of those who fought with you will every need you again. You are the only one left out of the twenty or so that went to capture the cloaked figure.

As the crushing weight of this realization settles on your shoulders you feel your discipline wavering once again. Knowing that you can’t handle this alone you drop to your knees and begin to pray to Corelleon for the souls of these brave men. You are still on your knees in the middle of your destroyed company when Tessalynne finds you a half hour later.

"Ariessus? Are you OK?" the paladin asks as she dismounts from her tired mare.

"They are dead. They’re all dead" you reply. You look up at the paladin and continue. "I was responsible for them and they are all dead now."

Tessalynne kneels down next to you in the bloody mud. "Ari..." she begins, and then pauses, searching for the right words. "Ari, we have lost over two hundred brave men and women here today, and all of them were my responsibility. But I take comfort in the fact that I know that their sacrifice was not in vain. They gave their lives in defense of their town, in defense of their families."

"I know, I know!" you reply, "but these... they all followed me and I lead them to their deaths! Look, even..."

You glance over at Tran. Already you can see the green rot from the wight spreading out from the shallow scratch marks around his neck. You begin to shake once again as you feel control slipping away. Tessalynne grabs your chin and jerks your head away from the sight of Tran. "Ari! Let me finish! Many people lost their lives here today, but only a handful can truthfully say they were instrumental in turning the tide of the battle. These men here can lay claim to that! Didn’t you see what happened? When you drove off the cloaked figure all of the other cloaks suddenly disappeared as well. And when they disappeared the monsters fell into confusion. In some cases they even turned on each other! Ari, your driving off that figure, whatever it was, secured the day for our forces. And yes, all of those around you died in the effort, but their sacrifice saved the lives of scores, perhaps hundreds of others by shortening the battle considerably. Do you understand?"

You take a deep breath and nod. You hadn’t realized that it was your actions that had thrown the monsters into confusion. And although it seems little consolation compared to the lives of those who fought at your side, you understand that their sacrifice was not in vain. Still, was there anything you could have done differently? Anything that might have saved more of them? Any of them? You know that question will haunt your nights for weeks and months to come.

"You... I saw you capture the cloak."

A look of disgust crosses Tessalynne’s face. "Yes, we got it. It reeks of evil!" She holds out her hands and you see what look like acid burns on them. "This is what happened to me when I touched it. But yes, we have it now. No doubt we’ll be trying to figure out what it is - and who’s it is."

"Your hands, let me bandage them up" you offer. You reach into your pouch of healing supplies but find it totally empty.

"No, there are others in greater need of your care than I, Ariessus. That is why I came to find you. We need your help back at the aid station. Our clerics have used up all of their healing magic, and none of them are as experienced at mundane healing as you are. Several of Laila’s students are there helping, but they want you there as well.

You wearily nod your head, realizing this day’s work isn’t over yet. You push the grief and a pounding headache aside. Using your shield as a prop you stand, find your sword, and nod to Tessalynne. "Take me to where I’m needed."

Noon passes as you care for the wounded. You find yourself strangely detached from the situation, as if you were watching yourself go through the actions of treating the wounded. It’s almost like you are working on one of Laila’s illusionary patients rather than on real people. While one part of you worries about this lack of emotion and care, another part wisely realizes that the detachment is simply a survival mechanism. You know that if you let your emotions back out now you may not be able to get them back under control.

It is almost two in the afternoon before you are finished. You stand up from dressing your last wound and your migraine comes back with a vengeance. You had been so busy you had pushed it aside until now, but it comes on stronger than ever. You grow dizzy under the sudden pounding and almost fall, but one of Laila’s other students catches you. She puts her hand to your cheek. "You’re burning up, Lady Ariessus! You probably have sunstroke. Let’s get you back to Laila’s quickly."

You try to argue, but you mouth stubbornly refuses to form the right words. You shut up when you realize you’re just babbling. Again you feel that detached feeling as you watch several of the aid workers gather around you, their concern evident in their eyes. A makeshift stretcher is quickly assembled. Iandas and one other large lad place you on it and begin to carry you towards Laila’s. Again you try to argue, but this time your mouth doesn’t even bother trying to make the words. Soon you feel yourself drifting away.

<Mistress? Ari?>

Hum. Ari. That’s your name.

<Mistress? Are you OK?>

That voice sounds familiar as well.

<Laila, she’s not answering!>

Laila. Now why is that name familiar?

"Hush, little one, she just needs her rest now. She’s out of danger. Come, she should awake soon."

Ah, good, the voices are going to let you rest. You so need to rest...

Your eyes snap open as you sit straight up. The fragments of a nightmare drift away, leaving only vague memories of cloaks, wights, snow, and blood. Your heart is pounding as you look around. It is dark, but your eyes quickly shift to the infrared. You find yourself in a small room - laying in a pool of water. One of the baths at Laila’s place, you realize. Shifting slightly you realize something else strange. The water is cool, almost cold. You start to get up but a stabbing pain in your head drives you back down. You conjure up an orison to get rid of the pain, only to discover that you don’t have any orisons available. The thought of why you don’t have any orisons brings your memories of the day’s events crashing back. Moaning softly, you lay back in the water, willing the images to go away.

<Mistress? Are you awake?>

<Beloved? Why am I here? What is going on? Are you OK?>

<I am fine, Mistress, but Lady Laila says you are not. She says you were out in the sun far to long today and you have some kind of sun-sickness. I’ll go let her know you are awake now. She wanted to know.>

<No, K’harn... K’harn!> But the small cat is already gone. You sigh and lay back down in the water. While you feel cold, the cool dampness also feels quite good against your skin.

Several minutes later you hear the doorknob being turned. Although the light in the hallway outside is muted, it seems blindingly bright. You squint and shade your eyes. "Laila?"

"Yes, Ariessus, it is I" the healer says as she enters the room, shutting the door behind her.

"What are you doing here? I’m sure there are many others that need your attention more than I."

"There are many that need my attention this day, that much is true. But you need it just as much as they do. Your life was in danger for a short time there."

"What? None of my wounds were that deep."

"Not from the wounds, from the sunshine. Many of those who were out in the vale today suffered one degree of snow-blindness or another. The bright sun in the sky shining off the snow made it doubly dangerous. Even with my glasses your eyes are burned, and your skin was beginning to crack as well."

"Crack!?" your reply, surprise evident in your voice.

"Yes, you remember you lessons on sunburn? Your skin is even more sensitive to the light than a human’s. Ari, you had second degree burns over all of your exposed skin. There were patches on your face that were almost third degree."

You sit back in the water, more than a little stunned at the news. Then you remember back to the time when the Truth Seekers tried to cross the Shriken Mire on foot. Both you and Kerianna had suffered terribly from the sun and the heat. Although the heat wasn’t present today, the sun was - and in force. You reach up and touch your face, worried that the burns might scar.

"You are fine now, my dear" Laila tells you. "Iandas practically ran back here with you. When the other lad carrying your litter began to slow down he picked you up and carried you the rest of the distance. The young fool re-opened the wound on his arm and almost bled to death running here. We got to your burns in time. There will be no lasting effects. In fact, whenever your headache fades you will be able to go back into town. Your friends are already asking about you. I would give you something for the pain, but if the headache doesn’t go away on its own that can be an indication of deeper problems, so I want to see what happens with it."

You nod your head softly. Fireworks again go off behind your eyes. You moan softly.

"Good then" Laila continues. "Just rest here. You can warm the water now if you like. We had to put you in an ice bath when you first arrived, but we managed to get your internal temperature down."

An ice bath! You know that an ice bath is only used in critical cases. You start to get a feeling for how serious your condition was. "Thank you Laila. I will stay here a while longer. I have much to think about."

Laila rises and makes to leave, but she stops at the doorway. "Ari... I know what happened out there today, about Tran and the others. I know that right now words will not help the pain you are feeling, but remember this - if you had told those men that they were going to die if they attacked, but that by doing so they would end the battle - each and every one of them would have chosen to follow you. I... I know what you are going through. I have had people under my responsibility die. It is never easy to deal with it, and we must each find our own way through the pain. But, if you ever need to talk, please feel free to come and see me."

You nod your head, and apparently Laila sees the movement, for she shuts and door and exits. With a deep sigh you lower yourself back into the water. Closing your eyes you take refuge in the only safe place you can think of right now and you begin to pray.