Pathway

Caught in the throes of a dream, king Laggarma flew. He followed the spirit road toward the dim horizon of the Astral Sea, streaks of silver stars passing by at impossible speeds. As he flew, the stars whispered to him, fragments of thought and memory that drew king Laggarma's attention. He reached for these shreds of dreams, but they slipped through his fingers like wisps of cloud. All that remained were the whispers.

"Come back, Laggarma, you're straying …"

"What was that? The silver shadow, don't touch it …"

"Please guide me … I beg you … I've been lost so long …"

"Gods, I'm flying … it's … magnificent …"

Whispers turned to weeping.

Laggarma turned away from his fellow travelers. These were old memories, old dreams. Was he doomed to be trapped in the past the way he'd been trapped in the stone?

The sky grew darker as, one by one, the stars retreated from a burning object that appeared in the east. Red—the color of fire and agony, slicing along his flank like steel drawn from the forge. The burning force slammed into his spirit form so hard that he lost himself for a time, spinning into oblivion. Where had the attack come from? Where had the power come from? Had he become so complacent, so safe in his vault deep beneath the earth, behind mithral doors and layers of magic so complex he'd thought them inviolate?

He'd been a fool. No safe place existed in this life.

Darkness engulfed him. Pain raked his back like claws. Feebly, he lashed out, trying to fight back. In the darkness, a single voice rang out, peals of cruel laughter that echoed in Laggarma's ears. He opened his mouth to scream. The sound came out as a rough, aged moan, a small cry from a small chest. He sat up in his bed, clutching his face. He ran his hands over his flanks and combed his fingers through his beard. The pain was slow to leave him. Even in dreams, the memory was so fresh that for a moment he couldn't move. His skin was on fire, and sweat poured down his face, soaking his beard. For a moment, he stroked the coarse hair, as if his own skin were unfamiliar to him. It was as if his existence in the universe was of mystery.

On the spirit road, there were no limits, Laggarma thought, but his body creaked with age and old wounds that refused to completely heal, his skin stretched taut over his spirit. Sometimes the confinement was so harsh that he wanted to tear his skin with his teeth like a beast.

He rose from his bed and set bare feet against the cold stone floor. The chill chased away the sleep phantoms and returned, if not peace, then a bit of clarity to his mind. Stretching out his awareness, he felt the echoes of heartbeats and footsteps coming from the room next to his. His own room sealed in all sound, so Chang Chang and Gallazza would not have heard his dream cries, nor would the guards stationed outside the door and in the library.

Chang Chang's awareness concerned him most. The more powerful boy had left with the dwarves, leaving her alone there. But he knew Gallazza would do no physical harm to her—after his escape attempt, the guards had searched him thoroughly for hidden needles or other poisonous substances, and Laggarma's own protections on the library would come to her aid if needed. Besides that, it wasn't in Gallazza's interest to attack her, not while he had the opportunity to search for the sphere. 

Not that any of it mattered. Although Chang Chang was a powerful blood, king Laggarma would not fool himself into thinking Chang Chang was completely safe around the yaomo. He was too old to take comfort in self-deception.

He hovered around her, not so close that she would sense him, but close enough to detect the quickness of her heartbeat, the tightness in her movements. He couldn't actually see her, but then he didn't need to. She was afraid—of course she was—and king Laggarma was the cause. Alone in a room with a strange and deadly creature such as Gallazza—she'd be insane not to be afraid.

King Laggarma turned his attention to Gallazza. Dark energy still swirled around him, creating an impenetrable wall that rebuffed king Laggarma's own energy probe. He sighed. Perhaps he'd been hoping for too much, thinking that she would be able to find the sphere when it had hidden itself so thoroughly from him. He supposed it was still possible Icelin would change her mind and refuse his bargain, even with the enticement of the sphere's Silver Fire.

King Laggarma severed the spiritual connection to the library and began donning his clothes and armor. A thought struck him. Perhaps he could offer Chang Chang something else, an added recompense for the danger he had placed her in. She sought knowledge of the truebloods, the means to tame her wild blood energy, and his library was a vast resource.

Abruptly, he sent out a mindvoice. It had been so long. Would she still answer his summons?

"Lachol. Lady of the ancient scrolls, do you hear me?"

Silence met his call. King Laggarma felt an unexpectedly sharp stab of sorrow in his heart. Had she gone to sleep for good?

"Lady, forgive me. I did not mean to leave you in the dark so long."

"How sweetly you talk, Old Master. What would you have of me?"

King Laggarma smiled as the familiar voice wrapped him like a warm blanket. Tears pricked his eyes. 

"I have missed you,  Lachol. It has been too long."

"Centuries." 

The clear, feminine voice chided him. 

"I feel the pages stirring. You have guests."contemporary romance

"Yes. But some more welcome than others." 

King Laggarma agreed and continued. 

"The girl needs aid. Will you show yourself to her?"

Lachol made no immediate reply. Laggarma waited in respectful silence. He knew what he asked of her.

"I have offered my services to none but you for thousands of years, Old Master. Is this truly important to you?"

"It is. Many things are come to an end, Lady. Our time together, I fear, is short. Will you grant me this one last favor?" 

"For you, Old Master, I will." 

The Lachol said. 

King Laggarma felt her affection and love through the mind-link. His sorrow returned, for a moment threatening to overwhelm him. Clenching trembling hands into fists, he mastered himself and finished tying the laces of his tunic. He needed to meet with the regents and the master armswoman, and to speak to the council about some specific defenses for the city gates. His thoughts lingered on Chang Chang and the Lachol. King Laggarma allowed himself a wry chuckle. To see the look on her face when she realized all the library had to offer … he would have given much to observe that moment. Standong just inside the library door, Chang Chang half-hoped the yaomo had vanished overnight.

After her conversation with Ju Fengin the large cavern, she'd spoken to king Laggarma and accepted his challenge to find the sphere, but found she didn't have the strength to begin that search just yet. She'd gone back to the Blackhorn house and rested, stalling, until Ju Feng left to help Abron and Obarn a scouting mission. Once Ju Feng was gone, she knew she couldn't put off the inevitable Her heart sank when she saw the drow sitting in a wingback chair by the fire. One leg propped on the hearth, a book open across his lap, he was the picture of relaxed self-assurance. He looked up when she entered and flashed a lazy smile.

Like a wolf grinning at a lamb, Chang Chang thought. The image made her indignant. Let him have his fun. His presence wouldn't intimidate her. Squaring her shoulders, Chang Chang crossed the room and stood before the fire, warming her hands against the chill. Without looking at the yaomo, he said.

"Good morning," 

The yaomo closed his book and rose smoothly to his feet. Instinctively, ChangChang  pivoted so her back would not be facing the yaomo.

His smile grew wider. 

"We haven't been properly introduced. I am gallazza."

Out of the corner of her eye, Chang Chang saw the guards stationed at the door tense. She assumed they hadn't taken their eyes off the? since she'd entered the room. She offered them a small nod, hopefully communicating that she wasn't afraid.

"My name is Chang Chang." 

The young blood said, ignoring the yaomo's acknowledgement. 

"It is … interesting to meet you. What are you reading?"

Gallazza picked up the scroll and held it high for her to see. 

"A personal journal of the oracle of Durban." .

"Durban?" 

Chang Chang raised an eyebrow. 

"Are you a student of dwarf history?"

"Myria is all that remains of an ancient dwarven realm on this planet of Wujin." 

Zollgarza explained. 

"The history of this planet. Do you know this planet is one of the first planets ever created by the divines? Yes. This planet was created by the divine Xue. The essence on this planet was heavenly blood energy. Unlike other worlds, this made normal cultivation difficult. But there was great power and divination in this world. That was why the old bloods were extremely powerful. That was Ages ago. It is … refreshing to see how the mighty are diminished over the centuries. No empire lasts forever." 

"Well, I find most historical accounts to be dry, mind-numbing reading."

"Really?" 

Gallazza said in amusement before asking. 

"What books, scrolls, parchment do you prefer?"

"Adventure tales of ancient legends and myths. Full of hard-won battles against impossible odds … that sort of thing. Add a splash of romance and intrigue and you've won my attention forever."

Chang Chang replied.

"If I find any such tales, I'll be sure to lay them aside for you. However, I was under the impression you're here for a purpose other than reading. You're here to hunt for the sphere, yes?"

At the thought of the artifact, longing rose in Chang Chang again. What would it be like to hold a bit of Mystra's essence near her heart, to be so close to the divine she had never known? Even if the sphere's Silver Fire didn't cure her energyscar, the memory of the divine would be enough. But when she looked at Gallazza, those hopes shattered.

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