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[Jolicia]

---

The plan was settled, and the group waited only for Aurelia to move into place. Jolicia watched the room quietly, looking over each individual. Aingeal was quietly sitting and also observing. Quinn was Quinn, talking about arrows in faces and such. Gaius, who had only been in Ashencrosse for a few days, was already placing his life on the line to help. Alisiea was dressed and ready to go, almost looking eager but upon closer inspection she was really just masking the nervousness inside. Paine was as he always was, calm and trying to provide some comic relief. Then her eyes reached to Judas. He was quiet and focused, but then again, they were the only ones who knew the consequence if this was unsuccessful. Jolicia had but to look at his face to realize the truth of her words from the previous night. He was trying to do too much on his own and it was killing him.

She looked over herself now and something just didn’t seem right. As she excused herself for a moment, Jolicia ran to the house and up to her room. Rummaging through the chest, she found the neatly wrapped item that called to her this night. She closed the chest and laid the package on top, then slowly untied the wrappings. Grabbing the crimson robe, she held it up and looked it over for a moment before putting it on. It was still at least two times her size, but the hem had been fixed so that it just grazed the floor. Jolicia grabbed a belt and cinched it around the robe and her waist to help rein in the extra fabric, as a slight grin crossed her lips. Placing her hand over her heart, she whispered a few words to herself and hopefully those that may be looking down upon her, and then headed back to the others.

******************************************

Draven's arrogant drivel lasted longer than the actual fight, but this was actually a blessing. It meant that they had survived. When Jolicia watched Draven's head roll across the floor, relief washed over her. Once, he had been the leader of her Coven, but no longer. Now he was nothing to her. Nothing to the rest of the world either. After burning his body, they left Carden and returned to Ashencrosse. As they sat around the Bramble Rose, the mood lightened, and Alisiea even entertained them with her gypsy dance of victory. Finally, Judas returned from the Hall.

Jolicia had always known that this would come, but she watched quietly as he approached everyone in the room and said his farewells. Some were filled with humor, some with words of wisdom, and some were very heartfelt. Then Judas turned to her, “What I have to say to you, I think I need to do in private.”

She simply nodded and followed Judas upstairs. They stood there quietly a moment before he began to speak, “I am saying my farewells ... one more vampire I need to face." She sighed heavily and nodded as he continued, “I am meeting Avella at the end of the week. Once I am done, she will trouble you no longer. And after I am finished with her, I intend to ..."

Judas had once told her of the circumstances surrounding the agreement, but Jolicia also knew how unpredictable Avella could be. Who knew what her Sire actually had in store? It was the one game, out of all that Judas had played, that worried her the most about his safety. At this point, the two began to speak almost in riddles, as if trying to cause confusion. Truthfully, it was more because this was not a conversation either of them wanted to have. Not at this moment. Finally, Judas spoke plainly, "I am done speaking on this."

Jolicia nodded in agreement, “Four days”

"Yes. If you cannot find me ..." His words trailed off for a moment and she frowned, knowing exactly what he meant. Then he confirmed the sentiment. "Four days ..."

[Judas D'arc]

---

Following the confrontation at Carden, and the death of Marcus Draven, Judas returned to Ashencrosse to say his good-byes.

To Aurelia Bretane, the woman that saved his life and inspired him to be victory. Part of him wondered if they could have stayed together, but he realized that she was far too noble, both in spirit and in blood, and he was far too undeserving. Besides, it was a pointless musing, since he had already surrendered such possibilities for Aingeal's protection. To Gaius, a last minute addition to their group, but based upon the very briefest of interactions, a man the bard wished he could have had the opportunity to know better. To Aingeal, the gypsy witch who had wandered into their abandoned Trinsic mansion one evening. Judas was still uncertain whether this had been coincidence, or something that needed to be. While they did not always see eye to eye, her magicks had done their part, and were worth the price that was paid. To Quinn Morgan, lycan hunter extraordinaire, who could both amuse and irritate with the wink of an eye. That night, the bard struck first, and sat in her lap instead. To Paine Drakul, the vampire slayer whose wisdom and wit were forever an asset. Well, not forever, since he had lost his immortality, but this was likely a change for the best. To Alisiea, his Gypsy Girl and dearest friend. She might never forgive his inability to love her the way she desired, but she would also remind Judas that sometimes, even he was capable of making the right choice. To Jolicia, there was but the hope that they would meet again in four days time.

The next day, he released the Countess Isabella de Mor from captivity, and they departed together. He ignored her questions until the the road, and then he asked, "If you could be anyone, where who would it be? Where would you go?" After she answered, they continued along their path.

When they reached the City of Trinsic, Judas stopped before the western gate and turned to Isabella. "Promise me you will really use this second chance to be something ... better. I know you are ... what you are. The curse you have, the monster within you. But I also believe you are capable of much. I have hope for you, is all I am saying, and I -- I do forgive you."

However, the Countess seemed focused on Draven's fate, rather than the future. As he had tried to explain it, "When you have a second chance, you do not look back. You take it or you lose it."

Instead of further argument, he told her of his bargain with the Lady Avella Isilian, and the fate that most likely awaited him there. Isabella stomped her foot in defiance, demanding that he refuse to honor the agreement. Then he reminded her that it was the breaking of a promise that had started all of this. Then they embraced, and shared a farewell kiss.

"I will remember you, Judas of Yew, and I wish you the best," she told him.

"And I will remember you, Isabella de Mor of Trinsic. It will be as the lady I know that you are, and that I know you will be. And in nothing else but fondness."

"Judas, I hope our paths do not cross again."

"But if they do," he tipped his hat with a slight smile. "May it be in times better than previous."

As Judas traveled north, his mind formed the perfect image of a new Isabella de Mor. One capable of standing on her own, without the need of a lover or an obsession to provide her with clarity. This Isabella would forsake all ties to Draven and seek redemption, protecting the people of Trinsic forever. But in his heart, he knew that the moment he was out of sight, she would abandon this second chance to return to Carden. Because, as a friend had once warned him long ago, women were just sort of crazy that way. And some things never changed. But this was no longer his concern, for there was still one final vampire to contend with ...

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

“My Lord.” Aurelia’s body bent gracefully to her sire, and she lowered her eyes.

Marcus smirked. “Am I?”

Aurelia rose, taken aback by his question. “O’course, My Lord.” She stepped closer to him and spoke more softly. “I’ve missed yer presence more greatly than ye can know.” There was a perfect peace that settled into her veins like snow and made her new again, just being by his side. The battle with her own blood – his blood – was silenced by his side.

Lord Draven chuckled. “I know the truth, Aurelia. I know you have betrayed me.”

Aurelia fought to protest, to proclaim her loyalty. She took his hand. “Let me show ye th’ depth o’ my love for ye…” She looked desperately to the stairs and tried to get him to follow.

Marcus pulled his hand from her grasp and unleashed his tongue, a lash that crumpled her to the floor at his feet. His words were white-hot, angry, and painted her with disdain and betrayal. Tears welled in her eyes. Tears of shame. Tears of frustration that spilled down her cheeks, leaving bloody tracks.

She was failing them. She was failing them all. They would be outside by now…She had to warn them. And so, she ran. Out the doors, out into the clear night beneath the Feluccan moon.

“I couldn’t get ‘im into th’ Library. He won’t budge. He’s in th’ great room.” Aurelia’s words were hushed and breathless as she wiped away her tears and composed herself. Judas nodded, and turned to the others to regroup. Aurelia took a deep breath and returned to the castle. Marcus was gone.

Aurelia stood in the center of the room, and called out to him. He was there. She could feel it. There was no answer until Judas stood by her side, flanked by the others who had accompanied him to the grim task.

Without warning, Marcus Draven appeared before them. Aurelia inclined her head, bewildered. The bond that she felt – had always felt since her first moments by his side – was gone. Had he broken the bond in the moments before she returned? Was it possible to disown a childe so effortlessly? If anyone could, it was her Lord.

She had been cast down. There was no longer any connection to the vampire lord who stood before her. She was abandoned but for the gilded tether that held her fast to the bard who stood beside her. Her last connection. But it was more than enough.

Cross words passed among the group as she watched silently. Anger and angst and rage erupted. She could hardly fathom what was happening. She focused intently upon Judas. As he was here to save her, she would see that no harm came to him.

Marcus threw off his robes, and opened himself to attack. The shroud fell before her as she sank to her knees, and she gathered it into her arms, unable to watch. She heard one last breath of resignation as the vampire she had called Lord, embraced his death. It was quick. There was no hesitation on their side, no struggle from his. He quite simply…fell. As did the axe in Judas’ hands as it removed the head from the body.

She wept. And it was a moment before she realized why. She wept not for her Lord. Nor for the feeling of utter relief that it was over. She wept because the same axe fall which severed head from body – severed also the gilded tether she treasured so deeply.

She was free. Free from the Lord who would kill her rather than see her try to lift the curse. Free from the torment of this life, for if her efforts failed, she would at least depart this world for the next.

And free from the gilded tether that held her heart fast to his. The loss was more than she could fathom. Yet somewhere inside, her grasping fingers found purchase upon something unexpected. Something she had long feared was gone forever. Weakened, and overlooked, she found her own spirit. Her strength to stand. And she did.

“Are you all right?” Judas watched her eyes tentatively – eyes which had long faded from pale blue to silver during the night’s events.

“Aye Judas. I’ll be all right.” She watched as the others threw an oil lamp onto the headless corpse, and the flames leapt to life.

They would watch a moment, and then retreat into the night. Retreat to Ashencrosse. Enjoy ale and the spoils of a victory that has been a very long time coming. When at last Judas’ touch fell away from her and he followed the others, Aurelia alone stayed behind to watch the flames.

He’d feel the need to explain to her, when she returned, why she was now alone. She dreaded it. In the grand scheme, it didn’t matter why. In the end, it only mattered that he had accomplished what he set out to do.

And she would see to it that the chance Judas had given her was never wasted.

[Marcus Draven]

---

(The following post is from THREE different points of view)

____________________________________________________________________________________________


It was a calm night. Very few creatures lurked in the woods surrounding Carden. And it would seem even fewer kindred visits the Castle as of late. Then she came… Aurelia… a noble of the Coven… former right hand to the Coven Prince… and now she was something quite different indeed. She left as quickly as she came, as she had done so often in the past. Yet she was not to leave quite so fast this night. Moments later they entered the main hall of the castle. At first, I felt confusion as to this small collection of people. However, their purpose could not be clearer. They stood well armed in Castle Hardestadt, it could only of meant one thing. They were here for blood. Aurelia stood there before the group, only moments before confessing her loyalty and love… and now led these people into this place. They stunk of fear and desperation looking about the hall for the one they were seeking; as the amusement ceased I decided to oblige them. Looking around the Gloom, I smirk as I close my eyes, knowing what must be done.

I reveal myself from the Gloom and looked about them. I asked as to their names and purpose, many of which I had already knew yet a few I had not. Even though their intentions were obvious, a woman ran up to introduce herself with a smile and went to shake my hand. A funny notion I could not help but accept. As Judas yelled at her, she bounced back to her position in the semi-circle around me. Slowly the rest whom were unknown to me told me their names. This only heightened my amusement, as within this group were several vampires, accompanied by a vampire hunter. There was also a Lycan hunter whom kept company with a Lycan. If there was ever a truer group of hypocrites, I have never seen them in all these centuries. They continued to insult me as I took great pleasure in letting Judas know the murder’s he committed were entirely by his own doing. Many of our kind do not kill, yet when he was given the chance, he did. My final task was complete. I took in a breath knowing what was about to come as I look in the direction of the brazier. A faint smile appears as I felt the arrows begin to sink into my chest… and it all went dark.

____________________________________________________________________________________________


He stood there and spoke with this group of betrayers and hunters. I watched from the Gloom only wanting to reveal myself and free their heads from their bodies. Yet, I knew his intention and I could not deny him, not after so long. And so I watched from the Gloom, drinking slowly from the goblet as my rage grew as I listened. My eyes slowly went about the group as time seemed to slow and I thought to each…

Jolicia… a kindred of true potential. She had been elevated to be known as a noble within the Coven and less than a week later I found out she had turned her back upon us all. For whatever reason still remained unknown as there had been neither incident nor words of anger spoken by her or from her. Yet here she stood wishing to bring down her own family.

Alisiea… a young Lycan but full of spirit. Her and her pack had been released to find her own destiny. It was my final gift to their pack after so many years of service and protection. They left quietly and again neither incidents nor words of anger between our two races. Yet now she stood here seeking death, I suppose it was her way of thanking us.

Judas… a bard of simple taste yet the heart of a dragon. His adventures led him into far more dangerous lands than he could of thought and he learned a truth that by all rights should of found him a corpse. But he was spared, his memory of our kind taken for his own protection. Yet by his own doing became tormented and now schemed to spill blood.

Lastly Aurelia… a woman of noble birth. She could have been a great leader among our kind but had decided to turn her back upon us all for the love of the one wishing our death. It truly was puzzling yet here she stood, ready to destroy her creator… the one whom saved her from insanity and gave her a second chance to right the wrongs she committed in her mortal life.

The other two were of little importance as I looked back at what was going on. It was then the arrows flew. They celebrated as Judas removed the head. Moments later they tossed a oil lamp upon the body, and as it burned they left… their mission complete. Only after they truly left Carden I stood slowly. Setting the goblet down upon the table I began to walk to the corpse, as I did I slip from the Gloom. With a snap of my fingers the flames were out and I could hear the sizzle of flesh that remained. The damage was done and he was truly dead. His head lay near the body and as I looked upon his face rested the remaining hints of a smirk.

It was then it happened. A slight wisp of shadows moved about the body as it began to shift. A moment later he lay there in his true form. His sacrifice would not go unpunished. The laws of the Masquerade had failed us. Our attempts to try and co-exist with the humans have failed. There was but one alternative, to gather our strength and when it was time. Reveal ourselves as vampires to the world… and kill anyone we wished. Knowing his intent to pose as myself, to turn away the attention of this betrayers and humans until we are ready to replenish those that had been murdered…

“Well done Gabriel, you have made the ultimate sacrifice for your Lord…” I say as I turn to leave the room.

If it were not for the death of Gabriel, it would be utterly amusing that these humans and young vampires thought they were more intelligent than I. Do they believe they are the first to attempt to kill me? Do they believe they truly had any possible chance to kill one as old as I? At least Val’is had the foresight when he turned against me to run as far as he could to new lands. And even that could not stop us from tearing him and his followers apart.

They had declared war upon me, and I would be happy to rain death all about them.

____________________________________________________________________________________________


From well within the forest a figure watched from the Gloom as he had been for a number of years now. He watched as these unknown people entered the castle walls with weapons in hand. The man has known what would come this night for some time as he had a vision of it long ago. However, its outcome was surrounded by uncertainty he must be here this night. He had no need to be within the walls, or even within miles of this place yet he felt he must. As the events within the castle unfolded he simply watched from where he stood, quietly and without emotion watching from the Gloom. Moments later they emerged looking victorious and left quickly. A few more moments the man watched, feeling within for what had occurred.

When he knew what had happened he simply turned to leave, thinking to himself, “Clever my son… soon you shall be reunited with your father once again. And we shall free our family from the ground together.”

[Judas D'arc]

---

Your murdering mouth is forever hungry
Your murdering mouth blaring at me
Your murdering mouth relentlessly pounding
Your murdering mouth takes aim at me

********

"And did you succeed?" she inquired, as the two of them stood together that night within the bowels of the Lycaeum.

Nearly a week of anticipation, and Judas finally faced the Lady Avella Isilian, bereft of all his protections and his trickeries. Exactly as he had promised her. "Yes," he nodded. "We found him alone ... and cut off his head."

"Did you now?" An amused grin appeared. "How very interesting."

"You seem ... skeptical," the bard respondend, almost defensively. "Do you think I would lie to you?"

"Tell me, Judas D'arc, how many of our kind have you killed that were as old as Draven?" After listening to the question's answer, she asked another. "And what do you know of the kindred blood bond between a sire as old as Draven?" The back and forth continued. "And do you know what happens when the sire of such a childer is destroyed?"

"I have heard different theories," Judas watched her carefully as he spoke. She moved closer, her fingers probing, with an expression that left him uncertain whether she would kiss or kill him. "Someone told me that -- well, regardless of what I have heard, I expect you are about to enlighten me."

"Do you wish to be enlightened?" Avella smiled again, pressing her body against his.

"I ... suppose," he muttered.

"Suppose? Suppose what, my pet?" She teased, her eyes and fingers in constant motion.

"Enlighten me ... Avella."

********

These open wounds that fester and rupture
These open wounds under merciless attack
I only asked you if what you say is true dear
I only asked you if what you do is fair

********

"Ahhh, yes, I see now," Avella stated, understanding the meaning behind his words. In light of what she had revealed concerning Draven, Judas was unsure how she might react. But surprisingly, she assented to his perspective. "Then I suppose I must congratulate you."

"Perhaps I am not the fool you thought a few minutes ago," he suggested.

"You are many things, Judas, but I do not believe you a fool."

"Thank you," the bard nodded. "Avella, can we speak ... plainly? No games or trickery?" Then he tried to explain himself, conceding a vulnerability that he usually kept hidden from the world. He told her of the path that this conflict had forced him to travel, of all his sacrifices, and then finally, of the freedom that he craved. "I honor our agreement. I submit myself to you, as you asked. I could not stop you from killing me. Turning me. Making me your blood slave."

At this, she smiled, but did not comment.

"So all I can do is ask you ... not to. To attempt to appeal to the woman that you once were."

"You ask much of me, Judas," She observed, without a hint of emotion. "And you have asked much of me since we've met."

"Well, I wish to ask more as well," Judas refused to relent. "Then you can take your measure of my demands, and my ... counter-offer."

********

Your murdering mouth is forever hungry
Your murdering mouth glaring at me
Your murdering mouth grinding and snapping
Your murdering mouth pointed at me

********

Upon completion of any business between them, Judas turned to Avella. "What now? We cuddle and discuss our childhoods?"

"Now, you may go. Our bargain is completed. But first ..." The vampire closed her eyes, and slowly lifted back her head. It was obvious that she was up to something, but her expression refused to dislose even a glimpse of what it was. A few seconds passed, and then she lowered her head, her dark orbs visible once more. "Jolicia is free, I have broken my bond to her. You are free to go, Judas. I will trouble you no further."

"Avella, I ..." He struggled for the words, as he watched her return to a state of dress. He did not know what to say, so all he could say was, "... thank you."

"You gave me a small gift this night. That is enough. A memory ... long ago."

The bard reached for his own clothing, mostly torn and shredded on the floor. "Well, whoever you were, once upon a time -- she was beautiful." He then covered himself as best he could with the scraps that remained.

Any attempts at small talk were thwarted by the re-appearance of Avella's wolf, who snarled when he approached. Then suddenly, Avella was on her knees, her hands covering her face. "Why do you just stand there?" She demanded. As Judas moved to comfort her, she gazed up at him, her features covered in a stream of bloody tears. "You must go, Judas. I cannot control myself for much longer. I have tasted your blood, and find it too sweet to ignore."

The bard nodded in comprehension, and with one final farewell, he was gone.

********

Multiple stab wounds
There's always you my darling
White and jagged
Opening closing

At the centre
Always you my darling
At the centre
Always you my dear

********

Judas quickly emerged from the depths of the Lycaeum, and eagerly welcomed the cool night air that greeted him. He paused for a moment, allowing a stray breeze to refresh his tired form, before continuing along his way. There was a small, empty feeling inside the pit of his stomach, and he was sore and bruised and bloody. But most importantly, the bard had confronted the Lady Avella Isilian ... and he had survived.

********

Note: All italicized portions of the above liberally adapted and stolen from Murdering Mouth by the Creatures, with an arrangement by John Cale.

[Jolicia]

---

Mazewood was quiet, peaceful and lent to Jolicia being able to think with a clearer head. Two days on her own here and she had already started to get a better idea of what she really wanted and needed. Today though she was trying to figure out why an empty feeling had washed over her the other evening and stuck with her still now. She was snapped out of her thoughts though as she felt his presence and heard a knock at the front door.

Balam followed her up to the roof and they found a spot to sit. The conversation came easier today, but then it was about updating him on the latest events he had missed. Jolicia always did better with this sort of conversation and it had become their main source of interaction lately. She filled him in on the murders that had taken place around all the cities, the night in Carden, and of Aurelia's latest decision. Picking at the edges of the small table, she watched him, "So... we are trying to hurry along the ritual now..."

Balam's expression remained stoic, "Understood. So are you going through with it then?"

She nodded slowly to him, "I am. Are... you going to?" Her heart sank a little at his answer but she still tried to reason with Balam until they reached a point of silence. He was the first to break it asking if there was anything else. Jolicia sighed and lowered her head, "I don't want to tell you because we're actually having a normal conversation... and... I want you to go through with the ritual with the rest of us."

He stared at her plainly, "Tell me."

She looked to him and took a deep breath, beginning to explain the thoughts she had been battling with. Touching on the dangers of the ritual, the effect it would mean on their bond, their previous conversations of having a fresh start. "If I'm starting over... again. I need to find the old me that's been lost all these years... And I need to do it on my own."

Balam's face remained unchanged but she could feel the sting as he needed slowly, "I see."

"It's not that I don't love you Balam... I do... but I don't feel like me anymore."

Jolicia watched quietly as he slowly slid off his ring and looked it over a moment before setting it on the table, "I... understand."

Lifting her gaze from the ring, she looked back to him, "You don't even know if you want to go through with it."

"I am what I am Jolicia. I will not change it if the only reason I would is no longer mine."

She sighed heavily, "You won't do it then?"

A bit of his defiance seeped through as he asked her what the point was. It was his next words broke her heart though, "I will find this Order of the Silver Sword and confess my true nature to them."

Jolicia tired to plea to him, " So instead of being... you would have yourself killed instead?" He simply nodded to her, "Why?" As he gave her his reason she lowered her face into her hands and began to cry softly.

Balam slid the ring across the table to her and stood slowly, "I love you Jo."

She grabbed the ring and stood up, walking over to him. This was not what she wanted to happen, it wasn't suppose to be like this. He was suppose to still go through with it all, incase... "Please don't do this," she pleaded again.

"There is nothing else for me Jo."

"Not even a hope that things could change in the future?" Balam wasn't seeing her point of view though. His mind had been made up and Jolicia's pleading and reasoning were not going to change it. If only these words they shared could have happened months ago instead of the fighting and the arguing.

Instead Jolicia heart broke further asking if he knew the pressure he was putting on her, "No pressure intended Jo. You said what you wanted and I respected that. Now respect mine."

Through her sobs she squeaked out, "But it's my fault..."

He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek softly, "No it's not, it's mine. I ran you away." Jolicia sighed and made a final request of Balam. He nodded, "Very well..." She sigh heavily as she had hoped he'd pick someone else, "Goodbye Jo. I love you... always have."

Jolicia grabbed him and kissed him. For a moment it felt as if the world stopped moving, but then she broke away and lowered her head as she sobbed, "I'm... sorry" He lifted her chin with a questioning look, "Doing this... causing this... Everything."

He genuinely smiled to her as she sniffled, her body shaking, "It isn't your fault Jo. It is my own. I pushed you to this... You go and live and be happy." As they each wiped tears from their face, they shared their last words. Then before either could say more, Balam turned and left for the final time.

[Jolicia]

---

*NOTE: THE FOLLOWING WAS WRITTEN BY THE PLAYER OF BALAM, AND POSTED WITH HIS EXPRESS PERMISSION*

As Balam walked out of Mazewood the tears poured from his eyes. He could not bear the life that would be his if it was without her. Even when she returned to Ashencrosse to try and talk him out of it, he would not be swayed. They had come to be in two very different places. Balam sent her away to live her life and as he watched her walk away, he remembered his last promise to her. He headed over to the Barracks in search of his uncle John. There in the shop he found John, like always, hammering against the anvil hard at work.

“Hello Balam. What's wrong?” John always spoke with a sense of understanding.

“I need one more favor from you John, just one.”

“Name it and it is yours Balam.”

“Kill me.” There were no words to explain the look that covered John's face at that moment. "I cannot live like this anymore John. I have already spoken with Jo, so I beg you take up your sword once more and take my life... out of the love you have for me.”

John embraced Balam and sobbed loudly, “If it’s what you truly wish, then yes Balam, I will.”

Balam nodded once and pulled out a vial on a golden chain, “Once it’s done, save some ash in this and give it to her for me. Tell her, I love her more than anything.”

John took the chain and nodded, grabbing his sword from the display case he motioned for Balam to kneel, “I love you Nephew.” With one slice, Balam was gone. As John finished it off, he knelt and scooped the ash into the vial, tears falling his face, “I'll tell her for you my boy.”

[Judas D'arc]

---

It was years ago, but the City of Britain was much the same. The old man took his first cautious step and exited the Wayfarer's Inn, his blue eyes clear and alert for any dangers concealed by the night. His clothing and possessions were plain and common, yet his posture and gait were noble and proud. He was careful in how he crossed the street and made his way past the Salty Dog tavern, not too quickly and not too conspicuously. Only a short distance until the one that promised to aid him in his plight. Hope, after all these years, was an unfamiliar feeling. Still, there was nothing he could have done to avoid the guardsmen that emerged from the drinking establishment to obstruct his path. With little choice, the old man slowed his pace and nodded to them. He knew that if he tried to flee, it would arouse suspicion, and ignoring them might prove fatal. Moments later, and their intentions became apparent as they suddenly surrounded him.

"Nicholas Cornigan?" The leader asked, the hand rested on the pommel of his sword an indication that he already had his answer.

The old man's disappointment was obvious, but he did not respond.

"We know who you are, Nicholas Cornigan," the guard continued. "Wanted for murder in Trinsic, a price on your head. You're coming with us."

Their quarry remained silent and dropped his gaze to the ground.

From nearby in the shadows, there was Judas, not yet nineteen years of age. He watched with interest as the leader struck the alleged criminal and knocked him down. The guardsman then barked a command to his subordinates, who, far from gently, lifted their prisoner up off the ground. After another minute of taunts and attempted interrogation, and they eagerly dragged the old man away into the darkness, never again to be seen by the young bard. He sighed deeply, part uncertainty and part regret, and turned to his companion, a short, round man with only a few strands of hair covering his big, fat head.

"Are you certain of his guilt, Cubbins?"

"Ain't 'ever sure o' not'in," the other man garbled a reply. "'sides, is too late fer changin' minds. Wha's dun."

"He did not seem to me a murderer," Judas meekly observed.

"Wha's dun," Cubbins repeated. "'e's a wan'ed man. Think o' tha' 'eward in'sead o' whinin' 'bout it. All tha' gold."

The younger man shrugged. "And my share, as promised?"

"Fif'een percen'. An' a boat ta Magincia. An' yer meet an' greet wif me boss."

The bard nodded, still troubled. "I only wish that ..."

"A bit o' clever, boy," The fat man offered. "Yer ne'er get wha' ye wan' in life, 'less ye take it, wif a fuk all ta tha' rest o' it."

********

"Quite an interesting story," Shelley remarked, once the telling was finished.

"I suppose," Judas replied before resuming his work. Following his confrontation with the Lady Avella Isilian, he had journeyed to Nujel'm to advise Jolicia of the outcome. She was pleased that her sire had relinquished all of her claims, but new troubles appeared to haunt her. Her attempts to convince Balam to participate in Aurelia's ritual had failed, and instead he desired a final death, refusing to endure an existence without her. The bard had offered Jolicia a number of strategies, but ultimately, her former lover could not be swayed. Although Judas was never particularly fond of Balam, the thought of another death, even that of an assassin-turned-vampire, was unsettling. When his time with Jolicia was finished, the bard departed Nujel'm for Trinsic of Felucca. It was his intention to remove all evidence that he and his friends had ever resided in the abandoned Trinsic mansion. Of course, like many things in life, this was easier planned than accomplished.

"I've been waiting for nearly a week," Shelley had half-complained the moment Judas entered the house. "Where have you been?" The concern in her voice was not quite consistent with the insults of their prior encounter.

While inconveniencing his old friend hardly concerned him, he was in no mood for argument or debate. So he told her his tale, both truthfully and completely.

"Still," Shelley mused, "there are things I don't understand."

"Such as?" The bard asked, as he made additional contributions to the junk accumulating on the floor of the front hall. Most of it was empty ale bottles and stray pillows, and he held Quinn entirely responsible.

"First," she began. "Do you think this Avella creature was telling the truth? Did Draven fool all of you? Is he really alive?"

"A fair question, but all I know is this. Months ago, when Draven discovered what I had learned about his Coven, he sent them after me, and I barely survived. This time, he clearly lacked the strength to defeat us. Either he was killed, or he faked his own death in order to avoid confrontation. Both suit my purposes. I never cared about revenge, I only wanted Aurelia to have the freedom she deserved. Whether ashes or in hiding, Draven and what remains of his Coven are no threat to her now."

Shelley nodded. "And speaking of your friend Aurelia, was she lying to protect Draven? If he was the one who turned her into a vampire, why couldn't she tell the difference between the real him and an imposter?"

"Absolutely not," he scowled at the suggestion. "I trust Aurelia completely and without any reservation. Besides, she had no reason to lie -- this was all for her. If the Draven that fell was counterfeit, he must have somehow tricked her."

"And what of you, Judas? Can you be trusted?"

"Me?" He questioned as he removed a small shoe from a potted plant. It clearly did not belong to Alisiea or Aingeal, and he wondered if Paine had unusually tiny feet.

"Well, you were fool enough to remove that talisman that protected you," the once-a-thief reminded him. "And according to what Draven said, there was no outside influence that caused you to attack Ashencrosse. It was all your own doing."

"Trust me, I have considered this," said Judas, "and Draven's words were lacking any logic or sense. My -- those killings -- mirrored the others that he orchestrated around Sosaria. The ones with the upside down bodies and the carvings of swords made into their flesh. How could I come up with this on my own? Also, from what I remember of that night, I felt compelled to punish Aurelia, Jolicia, and Balam for their disobedience. Why would their betrayal of Draven stir me to act? How could I believe myself a vampire yet not be entirely under his control. It is all nonsense. I might bear responsibility for much that happened, but not this." He stopped in order to scoop up yet another trail of cookie crumbs, silently cursing the names Quinn and Alisiea as he did so. "As for the talisman, I still do not understand it. I would have never removed it willingly. Besides, with both Draven and Isabella stalking me in my sleep, the possibilities are too many. I imagine it will always be an unsolved mystery."

"If you say so," Shelley conceded. "But this offering you made to restore the power of the talisman? How can someone sacrifice love? What's it even mean?

"Honestly, I have not an idea, but I will handle it when I need to."

"Good luck," she said, almost mockingly. "What of the dead girl from Ocllo? You and your friends helped her murderer escape justice, and then killed him yourselves. Will her parents ever learn the truth of what happened?"

"I returned there once," The bard sighed. "When I was helping Mei to find Avella. I also intended to look for Isileena's parents. Of course, with the Dark Order conquering the place ..." He frowned as he added one of Cole's silly hats to the pile of refuse.

"So you've abandoned them?"

"I have left the matter in Paine's capable hands," he stated. "Besides, with all the vampires dead or scattered, he needs something to keep him busy."

"You have an answer for everything," the woman teased. "One final question." She gestured widely with her arms. "What is your obsession with this damn house?!"

"This damn house," Judas repeated. He then turned to the two portraits hanging from the wall of the front hall. One was of a man, with black hair and blue eyes. The other of a woman, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes. Both noble and proud and content. "This is Lord Nicholas and Lady Thalesa Cornigan, and this was their home. They were good and honorable people of Trinsic, the rare sort usually reserved for stories. And they shared a bond that never wavered, and was only strengthened after the birth of their son. Unfortunately, there was another nobleman, Lord Anton D'arc, a business rival of Nicholas and former suitor of Thalesa. He never fully recovered from losing her hand, and the years only served to increase his resentment and desire. Knowing he could never have her honestly, he employed a sorcerer to magically disguise himself as Nicholas, and seduced Thalesa while her husband was away from home. Well, as often occurs, the truth of it came out, and there was a confrontation. But Anton claimed innocence, and his accusers had no proof, so his older brother Paul, another honorable man, defended him. Paul D'arc was slain, and Nicholas accused of murder. He fled Trinsic to fight another day and find a way to clear his name. Sadly, it was all too much for poor Thalesa, who took her own life. And all their assets, except for this house, were seized by Anton, who also inherited control of his family's wealthy, and used the incident to increase his own power and standing."

"And the Cornigan son?"

"Nicholas arranged for a loyal servants to take his infant son to safety," he explained. "Despite my research, I never did learn what happened to him."

Shelley rolled her eyes. "It's a sad story, but the world is full of sad stories, Judas. What's the real reason for your interest?"

"Do you remember how we first met?"

"Who could forget the worst day of my life?" She grinned. "You walk off a ship from Britain, with a letter of introduction from Cubbins telling us how you helped him with some business in Britain. He thought you might prove useful. Little did he know."

"Anton D'arc never could forget how his old rival was still free. Every year, the price on Nicholas Cornigan's head increased." The bard swallowed hard. "I ... encountered him while drunk at the Blue Boar one night. For reasons I still cannot fathom, he revealed far too much about himself to me. I let it slip to a mutual friend -- remember that Mazotti cousin with the lazy eye -- and he told Cubbins. And before I knew it, I had agreed to help trap Cornigan and claim the reward. I should have refused, but Cubbins kept promising it would lead to bigger and better things ..."

"You're a terrible man with a terrible conscience. And those are two things that never go well together. But you're holding back something, Judas. 'Anton D'arc?' From what I recall, you specifically requested that surname when I had those identity documents forged. Or am I to believe that it's just another coincidence?"

"I will let you draw your own conclusions," was all he spoke on the subject. For the next hour, there was silence in the abandoned Trinsic mansion, as Judas finished his work. When the house was finally in the same condition in which it had been found, he returned to the conversation. "Why are you here, Shelley? Last time, we did not part on friendly terms. In fact, you made it clear you that you never wished to see me again."

"I've -- I've decided to go back to the old business. The old ways of doing things," she informed him, almost sadly. "And I'd like you to come work for me."

The bard was surprised by this, but he tried his best to avoid appearing so. "But what of your new life? I thought you were quite comfortable and content with your new life. A council member, was it? Vesper or Minoc or one of those places?"

"These are uncertain times," his old friend confessed. "A regime changes in a flash of fire. Or an old face returns to destroy everything you've built."

"And would this old face belong to anyone I know?"

Shelley paused for a moment, as if considering her answer, and then shook her head. "No one you know. From before your time. Or perhaps afterwards."

"Very well," Judas was not entirely certain he believed her. But it mattered as little to him as her offer of work. "I am afraid I will decline, at least for now. My current plans involve avoiding trouble and excitement as much as I possibly can."

"It's a standing offer, Judas," she informed him. "I know I was harsh when I visited before, but I really was impressed by this whole Order of the Silver Sword business. I could use your skills. Misdirection is a dying art. These days, everyone relies too much on force to get a job done, as if it's the only option."

"Who needs sword or spell, when there's a story to tell?" The bard quickly rhymed. Then he reached inside of his pack, pulled out a neatly wrapped scroll, and handed it to Shelley. "Before I forget. Instead of tracking down Cubbins, I might as well deliver it personally."

"One last Order of the Silver Sword poster?" She questioned as she unwrapped it.

"Indeed."

Shelley finished opening the parchment and began to read. As of late, the path of her life had slipped far from her control, and the writings therein brought her some much needed laughter. "I love it," she smiled, and then turned to congratulate her old friend on a job well done.

But he was already gone.

********
Somewhere. Anywhere. A man stands on a beach. The sun upon his face, the sand between his toes, the salty air a taste of freedom. Barely clothed, a touch of color to his normally pale skin. Long black hair a tangled mess, a beard grown natural and unkempt. Dark brown eyes well rested, and a mouth that does not bother to hide its amusement. His attention on the sea, as if he waits for someone or for something to happen. Yet the outcome does not seem to be of much concern. The past no longer matters, and the future holds little interest. Because, for the first time in nearly thirty years of living, he is exactly where he wants to be.

A new world all his own.

THE END


********

Thank you to those who participated in this ongoing story line. Big or small, knowingly or unintentionally, your presence was always appreciated. When it began, everything was up in the air, but I'm happy that we allowed the characters and interaction to dictate the direction. I also wanted to specifically mention those who contributed to this monster of a thread (in order of posting), the players of Renthar, Harlequin Morgan, Isileena Thorne, Cezanne Abella, Alisiea, Paine Drakul, Jolicia, Aurelia Bretane, Ayana Willowsong, Everett Whitethorn, Averi Coldgrove, Marcus Draven, Agostino, Malidian, Isabella de Mor, Aingeal, and Balam.

If you enjoyed this story, here are some threads that allow you to see some of these events from other perspectives:

1. Darkened World: Our companion piece detailing the very much related story of Countess Aurelia Bretane and Ashencrosse

2. The Order of the Silver Sword: The propaganda and reactions

3. Shadows of Change: Lady Avella Isilian's point of view on some of these events

4. Path of Torment: The vampires Dezera Blackwell and Everett Whitethorn, and how they came to be involved

5. The Dark Truth: Darien Blackrose reacts to his sister Raquel's death

********

BEWARE: POST-CREDITS TEASER

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