Autumn 1372

"I certainly won't say no," the mage replied smirking. "Our dear Abbess may try to talk you out of it, knowing that it's the most dangerous of the locales given for you to wander into. The Dawn knows our good Prior would rather see you risk life and limb elsewhere," he japed, using a turn of phrase quite common amongst the Lathanderians.

"But, I'll take up no more of your time here," he waved in farewell. "I've got a few surprises for demons that feel comfortable in Dead Magic areas, have no fear," he informed them while back-pedaling out the door. "I'll see to it you've got a few when we set out in the morning."

Kaldric turned away, then, and departed down the hall. "Until the morrow!" he called out, not bothering to look back.

Alaecathra just smirked and shook her head as Kaldric departed. "Mages... You get used to them." Comments that just had Elric chuckling and nodding his head. She could tell they were world-knowledgeable enough to understand.

"Right... So... If you'll follow me, I'll see to it your settled in. At least as long as you wish to stay." She stood up and with a slight flourish waved them toward the door.

"Now... I know you've come to see the Dawnstone. That is in the uppermost room of the tower. It would probably be wise to Start the purification of your sword before you leave with Master Hueart." The Prior bid them farewell and with heavy footsteps strode purposefully down the hall. Presumably to arrange the expeditions tomorrow.

"Still there are other services we do offer here." She took the list of mages and scholars that Kaldric had given her and looked it over for a moment. "Yes... He has requested the brightest of them... but he has left us a few mages...

"Traditionally adventurers show up on our door in dire need of healing or rescue, which we often do... In return they tend to donate some of their various findings to help the Dawnspire survive... It has been that way for decades. As such, we have many knowledgeable mages who help us identify what the various magical items are that pass through here. If you have any particular treasures you've uncovered yet... or will uncover... we may be able to tell you what they are..."

Elric's grin gave him away, and the Abbess simply laughed. "Yes... I see this isn't your first stop in our wondrous city... We can have Halamor take a look, and see what is valuable and what may be cursed.

"There's the libraries, the study halls... The dining hall. Which I believe Master Everdawn is interested in." The half-elf cringed as he realized she had heard his stomach earlier... "Then there is sleeping quarters. You both carry the dust of adventure on you... Would either of you like to freshen up before we continue?"

As the Abbess led them on, Ashara's heart fluttered knowing that the subject of those serene dreams shone brightly only a few floors above them. Jittery anticipation of finally reaching that goal which she never quite achieved in months of dreams. The fact that Lathander himself...

LATHANDER HIMSELF!!

...once stood in that room, only increased the anxiety!

"If it was only dust we carried, I might decline," Ashara smiled warmly at their hospitable hostess. "Personally though, I hardly feel fit to stand before the brothers and sisters here, let alone the Endless Dawn! So yes, if you would be so kind, perhaps a little cleanliness might be in order for me."

There was ichor in her hair... She could feel it! If at all possible Ashara would prefer to be ichor free when standing before the Dawnstone. A requirement, no... Not here it seemed. There were a couple of temples she'd been to in larger cities that had a cleansing pool stationed just outside of their doors for the filthy faithful to wash up a bit before entering and soiling their halls. That wasn't exactly practical at the Dawnspire where everyday survival trumped ceremony. She could appreciate that.

"I'm sure I could find my way to the dining hall afterward if you'd like me to meet you there," she grinned at Elric, patting his neglected stomach.

In all fairness they hadn't eaten much of anything since arriving in the city. Something about death lurking around every corner. Pushes food right out of one's mind!

"Ohhh No..." the half-elf responded with a laugh. "I haven't had a bath myself since Ashabenford, and I'm still not sure on the 'cleanliness' of that one. Food can wait!"

"Very well... If you'll follow me, I'll make the necessary arrangements." The Abbess led them down the hallway past the dining hall. and up to the next level with the living quarters.

Inside there was a comfortable looking, four posted bed. Fancy enough that it should have belonged in a noble estate. With a sigh, Elric realized it probably had been. The entire Tower seemed to have taken scavenging to an art form. In the corner of the room was a iron tub that almost seemed to beckon him. He heard Alaecathra whisper a word and the tub started to glow red.

"Now before I leave you," Alaecathra interrupted his thoughts. "If you have anything you'd like our mages to look at, I can set that up while you get clean."

Elric flinched for just a moment at the thought of handing over their hard earned treasure to a virtual stranger... but just for a moment. He trusted the Seekers enough to know they wouldn't 'lose' anything... Odds were pretty good that they'd be leaving a healthy donation of stuff the entrenched priests would need more then the champions would anyway...

He handed her the Haversack and explained some of the items that they'd found and where they'd come from. The abbess nodded and seemed intrigued by a few of the items. He specifically pointed out the mysterious note in the hidden chamber of the rerebrace.

"Very good... I'll deliver these to Halamor and tell him to put a rush on them. There may be something in here that will aid you on your quest."

She bowed her head slightly to her guests. "I'll leave you in peace now. When you're ready to see the Dawnstone, seek me out. I'll probably be either in the dining hall or my office. I wish to thank you once again for your assistance.

"Also, I will be arranging a 'Going Down' ceremony for Sub-prior Telcharr to take place after Twilight devotions tonight... You are of course welcome to attend any of our services while you remain in these walls...

"In fact, If I might make a suggestion Sister Ashara," the abbess had an excited glint in her eye. "I would recommend you address the congregation either this evening or tomorrow at Dawnmeet... Tell them the story of Dawnspeaker once... as opposed to being harassed all night long."

"Perhaps at the devotional this evening then," Ashara smiled, bowing low to the elder priestess, "before the Going Down. I wouldn't want unanswered questions about Dawnspeaker to be a distraction to anyone during the time set aside to honor the Sub-prior's life."

Goodness knows she would be distracted if someone walked into a ceremony with a holy relic on their hip and no word about why or how it was there! Especially under these circumstances... The faithful here had more than enough to preoccupy their thoughts.

Before the Abbess turned to go, she remembered the silver charm bracelet she'd put on that morning and slipping it off her wrist, handed it to Alaecathra to add to the Identify pile. Another bow proceeded their thanks for the warm welcome, before the door clicked shut.

For a long moment Ashara simply stood staring at the door while her mind caught up with the events of the last hour. "Well then..." She turned grinned at her husband, shaking her head in disbelief. "There certainly have been some surprising developments so far today! Meeting some of the original Seekers of the Dawn, learning about the Mythal halting the aging process..." Her mouth lingered on the last words unintentionally, as if savoring the idea. "The fact that Lathander was here during the Time of Troubles," she continued, "that his very words are recorded here!! And now, tomorrow we're heading out into the center of a dead magic zone to assist this Kaldric fellow in what appears to be the only chance for the Dawnspire's survival! I certainly hope I paid enough attention during those morning training sessions... Tomorrow could be...difficult."

She set a rolled bundle on the floor, the one Himbar had been carrying, and untied it, carefully unfolding the well-weathered material to reveal a set of heavy scarlet robes that hadn't seen a proper Dawn in months. It would be a welcome change from the burdensome armor. For one evening at least. With a sharp crack, she shook out the garment, sending a small cloud of dust into the air.

"If you have the opportunity tonight or tomorrow morning, maybe you'd like to seek out Prior Gundlar." Ashara smiled up at the half elf, as she scraped off a curl of soap required for the casting of the Purify spell. "I have a feeling he'd love to do some sparring with you, especially after hearing those stories! I'm not entirely sure he believed a word I was saying," she chuckled.

The half-elf's laughter rang throughout the room. "Can you blame him? Half the time I can't believe the stories... and I was THERE!" He shook his head in disbelief. "Y'know... For a while there I was looking forward to telling the others about this trip. Then, I was a little afraid to. Therogeon at least is going to be pretty jealous...

"Now... The original Seekers... Stopping Dead Magic... The Endless Dawn... Talking to the Mythal?!? Now, I'm pretty sure nobody's going to believe us anyway!" He chuckled as he tested the water in the tub. Still too hot. That spell the abbess had cast did it's job well... best to let it cool for a few more minutes.

"I can barely believe we're actually here... We actually made it to the Dawnspire... " He sighed a deep satisfying sigh. Suddenly his eyes narrowed a bit in seriousness.

"Ashara... When we were talking to the Abbess... It sounded like you wanted to stay here?!" He sat down beside her and started helping her shrug off the heavy armor.

"Is that true?"

The priestess winced slightly at the question and turned to set the spell component atop the robe laying out behind them on the bed.

"I told them that it would be an honor to be chosen for permanent work here," she said softly, "and I believe that."

After meeting her husband's gaze, Ashara, chewing at her bottom lip, lent her own hands to the task of removing the mithril plates. "Lathander himself came to this place in the flesh! It only shows how important their mission here is... How close it is to his heart. I really do think it's an honor that they've been given and that it would be an honor to serve under these giants of faith!"

As the battered golden breastplate was unbuckled and lifted over her head, she inhaled fully and pulled her shoulders back in a desperately needed stretch before exhaling with marked relief.

"Thank you, Melamin..." Ashara smiled and sighed contentedly before continuing her response.

"While I do believe it would be a privilege to be sent to work at the Dawnspire, I wouldn't choose it. For as much beauty as we've found here, can you imagine never being able to leave? I'm not sure which of them coined the phrase 'caged by the mythal', but it certainly seems to describe the situation well. And what a deadly cage!

"Never seeing your family or friends again... What would be like to raise children in this place?!" She shook her head and shuddered. "I mean, the world is scary enough without demons as your next door neighbors! No peace... Not ever. Not in the foreseeable future anyway... Difficult would not begin to describe it."

A tiny grin started at the corners of her mouth as she finished unbuckling her greaves.

"I don't know though. In fifty years, maybe serving here would be an option for me! You could be off on some wondrous adventures with some young whipper snappers in the prime of their life as you will be, and then you could come visit your seventy-two year old wife battling demons in Myth Drannor who, might I add, would be looking quite good for her age!"

Laughing brightly, Ashara pulled the heavy chain over head. "Who knows what's going to happen in fifty years, but as long as the Dawnspire's mission continues here, perhaps it's a possibility to think on when the time comes."

He laughed as a large weight seemed to lift off his shoulders. Possible, hypothetical theories were all well and good, but when the mission here was over, and they'd seen what they'd wanted to see... He was confident she'd be ready to leave.

"Soooo.. You think I'm going to leave my Seventy year old wife, who doesn't look a day over fifty... to fight demons on her own?!? And what... Bring the kids in for a visit now and then?" Though that thought made him chuckle... it also made him think. Despite the crowds, and the number of both priests and priestess', he didn't remember seeing any children. For a temple devoted to the god of births, that seemed odd... Did Lathander simply choose not to have Children underfoot here... or was it an issue with the mythal? Or both? Not aging... regaining youth... How did that affect the very young?? Shuddering he shook the thought from his head.

"Honestly my dear, Now... Ten years... Fifty years down the road. Doesn't make a difference. I have a hard time picturing you ever submitting to a cage. You've too much of a ... 'leitha fea' <free Spirit> in you... I'm sure Lathander knows that." He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

Whispering he spoke softly into her ear. "Somehow... I think whatever the Morninglord has in store for us, will play to our strengths, not our weaknesses. There's still a lot out there for us to see..."

"Ohtar 'en curura ar' nominra <A warrior of great skill and great wisdom>," she breathed, smiling into his shoulder. Reaching behind him, she carefully tugged the leather tie from his hair. "Sut naa ta tanya amin ikotane aman yel lle verno' <How is it that I'm so blessed to call you husband>?"

There was only one point on which he might be mistaken... Ashara would indeed submit herself to a cage if it meant that Elric would get to avoid one, and from where she was standing it seemed like being in the prime of your life and chained (even willingly!) to an elderly woman in failing health was as much of a cage as the other.

But that was her fear... Apparently not one that Elric shared. They were silly thoughts anyway, anything could happen in fifty years and tomorrow they were heading out into demon infested ruins without the aid of magic or magical equipment! Perhaps a focus on surviving the present might be best...

Pulling away from the half elf, she kissed him softly before rising to walk over to the steaming bathtub. "You're right. There's still a lot out there for us to see," she grinned, dipping her fingers into the now bearably hot water. "There are also a few things yet in the tower I'd like to see and as much as I wish we had a day or two before we needed to head out, time is quickly becoming an adversary."

Ashara began untying the laces of the quilted jacket that served as the padding beneath her chainmail. "So... It would be most practical if we try to conserve time where we can.

"This bath for example!" She exclaimed in a tone feigning sudden insight into their 'predicament'. "Certainly it would save some time for us to share it and you'll want to be properly scrubbed before meeting the Abbess again and seeing the Dawnstone..."

Completely ignoring the fact that she had a spell prepared that would clean her more thoroughly than this bath ever could, she stepped out of the remainder of her clothing and slid into the hot water with a hiss of delight.

A soft scrub brush was chosen from the items that lay upon the table standing near the tub, and smiling playfully, she held it up in offer to the salk-sirra master.

"Shall I get your back?"

Soon enough, the freshly cleaned and dressed couple found their way to the dining hall. Ashara, in her priestly robes, could easily have blended in if not for the sparkling mace at her side. Elric was dressed in his cleanest shirt, which sad to say, after many months on the road wasn't nearly as clean as he'd have preferred. He felt a little out of place.

At least till they reached the dining hall. Robes were fairly common, but more than enough of the patrons here seemed to be adventures such as himself. Fighters, wizards, standard clothes and armor surrounded them. It was hard for the half-elf to remember how... isolated they truly were. The Dawnspire truly did open it's doors to anyone who needed help.

His father's sword was wrapped in an old cloak and carried under his arm. While Ashara may get some leeway with Dawnspeaker, he didn't think it appropriate to walk around armed in the tower of worship.

Ironically he was one of the few who were not. Made sense. He was still thinking with the civilized mindset. Walking around armed at the 'Spires of the Dawn' was seriously frowned on, but then again, they didn't worry about an alarm going off at any time, day or night. This wasn't so much a tower... as the front line of a war. Sadly that, he was a little more familiar with.

The meal was basic but tasty. The other diners were friendly, if enthusiastic. Once Ashara revealed that she was going to speak at the Evening devotions, the news spread like wildfire. The individual harassment ebbed down, but the excited whispers created a buzz that was hard to ignore. Unfortunately Alaecathra was not amongst the faces they saw.

Eager to see more of the tower...and specifically the relic that had drawn them halfway across the continent, as soon as they were finished eating they quickly went to search for their host. Nearly trembling with excitement, they found her back in her office.

"Sister Ashara! Elric... " the abbess looked up at the sound of their footsteps. "You look refreshed... Have you eaten yet?" Her eyes sparkled as Elric nodded that they had.

"Then tell me... are you ready to see the Dawnstone?"

"Quite ready," Ashara confirmed eagerly.

As Alaecathra rose from her seat, nervousness pulled the corners of the younger priestess' mouth into slightly too wide of a smile, but she forced herself not to fidget. There was entirely enough of that in the dining hall...

She'd felt better...more human after the relaxing heat of the bath but as soon as they'd stepped foot outside the door the anxiety and reality of what was in store for them came crashing back down on her shoulders. It wasn't just the Dawnstone. Ashara was excited and humbled at the prospect of presenting their family weapon before it. No, it was the concern that this might be the only time she'd see it. The last days of the Dawnspire...

What would happen if Kaldric's plan didn't yield the results that he hoped and no other way to save the Seekers was found? What if they were unable to keep him safe out there in the ruins... She felt quite uncomfortable knowing that her granted powers of healing wouldn't be available in the dead magic zone, and if he fell, she doubted anyone else would be able to 'speak' with the Mythal as he hoped to!

If they failed and the dead magic zone swallowed the tower, the Endless Dawn would fall to darkness and the demon and phaerimm and gods knew what other armies would roll in and destroy the Seekers who'd proven themselves enemies to those evil hordes for over a century! She didn't doubt that the faithful here would give as much as they took but without the reliability of magic and the sheer number of evil minions, the eventual result was guaranteed. Unless of course Lathander returned. As the Abbess stated earlier though...the likelihood of seeing him twice in her lifetime... Well... Best not to count on a personal rescue. Not this time.

As the trio ascended the stairs leading to the uppermost chamber, Ashara raked her fingers through her hair, massaging them across her scalp to ease the soreness left behind by releasing the tight braids. The motion also served to release some of the tension building in her mind. One thing at a time. First the Dawnstone and the reason they started their journey to Myth Drannor. After that, she decided to do what she always did when they found themselves in these perilous situations.

Pray.

Then prepare.

They were both silent as the abbess approached the door. A rose red light shown from the cracks below and around, and the half-elf found he could barely breathe. The abbess stopped to give them final instructions.

"It is not my habit to intrude on anything as personal as one's experiences with the Dawnstone. Take as long as you need. I'll be around when you need me, our twilight services will be held outside. Seeing Elric's surprise the priestess simply smiled.

"No, we do not often perform our rituals up here. Here at the Dawnspire, it is our tradition to... be as close to nature as we can. Free from the confines of the walls. The Dawnstone is always here, should we have need of it.

"That is what I should inform you... should you have any physical, mental, or possibly spiritual aliments, simply lay your hands on the stone. The power of the Morninglord can cure all save death itself."

"Ohhh..." Elric started to ask, but the abbess held up her hand.

"If a priest casts a raising spell with the recipient touching the stone, it will work. It will always work. However, while I understand that some sects of the faith are more liberal with the ideas of life and death, we here rarely cast such spells.

"Still, When I said the Dawnstone would cure you.... I meant the stone itself! I have never seen anything it couldn't cure. Feebleminded wizards, lycanthropes, I have even seen it force foreign objects from the wounded... objects highly skilled medics were unable to remove." The abbess was quiet as she let the power of this object sink in.

"Now, I don't believe I need to say this, but I shall anyway. There have been those in the past who have tried to take the Dawnstone... to remove it from the service of the Dawnspire... Lathander has punished these people greatly. As a rule, most people can not physically touch the stone, though I believe Sister Ashara may well be one who could. There are only three currently in the Dawnspire high enough in the Morninglords favor to wield the stone."

"Wield? Then it's a weapon?" Elric asked quietly.

"It is... more than just for defense. Let's leave it at that." She answered with a grin. "Sister Ashara, Should you touch the Dawnstone... Priests have been known to receive instructions and messages from the Dawnlord himself.

"In the interest of not bothering the Morninglord overmuch, we touch it as rarely as possible. However, should you receive a message of some sort, and you don't mind sharing, we do like to keep records of such things."

As she reached out and grasped the door by the handle, Elric could tell from her barely held excitement that she delighted in showing off the wonders that had been given to her people. His own eyes danced with anticipation and he could practically feel his wife's giddiness.

"Before we proceed, do either of you have any questions?"

Ashara stood transfixed by the rosy light wreathing the door. Often she'd wondered what it would be like to enter the Halls of the Morning... When she was younger, Josiah described death as a doorway to a great and glorious light that awaited those faithful to Lathander. That image of that doorway, so much like the one she stood before now, was one of the things that kept her fighting...kept her alive while under Cyric's Curse. During that dark period of time she inherently knew that if she gave up the struggle for her own mind, no brilliant Dawn would be waiting for her on the other side of that door. Only the cold, black embrace of the Prince of Lies.

She was so thankful that there had been those fighting just as hard for her externally as she was internally, for that had been a war she could never have won on her own!

As Alaecathra described some of the powers of the Dawnstone, the eagerness and desire to finally see it grew exponentially until Ashara was forced to clasp her hands together in front of her to keep them from trembling. Then there was the possibility of touching the holy relic! Given permission, there was no doubt she'd try! Touchy-type person that she was, she would not let this kind of opportunity pass her by...

Alaecathra wrote:"Before we proceed, do either of you have any questions?"

"None that need immediate attention," she managed to answer after wetting her suddenly cottony mouth. "There are a few things I hope to discuss with you before tomorrow morning, but forgive me Abbess, I hardly think I'd be able to string the appropriate words together to ask right now!"

Chuckling, Ashara's gaze shifted to her husband who held the bundled blade beneath his arm. What started out as just being about a sword, albeit a treasured one, had somehow during the journey become a great deal more than that!

Nodding in understanding, Abbess Alaecathra stepped to the side and opened the door wide. The rosy light engulfed them as they slowly passed through the doorway. Elric could feel a warmth and... peace. The likes he'd not felt since Josiah had spoken to Ashara in Waterdeep, telling her of the Morninglord's love and freeing her from the Mad god's curse. Or... She had felt it... and he had remembered it.... After all these months, the order of things still got confused in his mind. However one thing was the same. He felt loved, like he was returning home to a loving family.

As his eyes slowly got accustomed to the light, he finally saw it source. A smooth rose-crystal sphere, as large around as an average shield shown brightly near an open window in the eastern side of the tower. The Dawnstone was floating in the air above the raised chancel simply hovering for anyone to see and ready to greet the dawn each morning.

The stone did not appear to be a true gemstone, and looked only... partly there. The half-elf was almost certain that if he tried to touch it, his hand would pass straight through the holy relic.

Elric had thought perhaps it would magnify the sun that was available, but now he saw something else. Even in the daylight hours, he could tell it radiated with its own internal light. Despite the many divine things he'd seen and done, seeing this relic humbled the man carrying the bundled sword. He placed his free arm around Ashara shoulders for mutual support as he stared wordlessly into the Endless Dawn.

It felt like the dream again. This time however, they'd reached the destination that proved so frustratingly elusive in the vision!

Awash in the warmth that penetrated to her very core and the tranquility that settled over her mind, Ashara realized the extent of the gift Lathander had given the Seekers. He didn't send them defenseless into the ruins. He knew the sacrifices his followers would make by carrying out his mission here...that they would be indefinitely delaying their reward in the Halls of the Morning. The Dawnstone was more than a weapon or a protective device against the evil here and it was more than just a healing relic. It was a piece of the Morninglord himself. A tiny fragment of his power and glory!

Lathander had given the Seekers of the Dawn a way to continually experience his presence and therefore to experience Hope in the darkest of times. As his faithful gave of themselves for his cause, he gave of himself for them. That thought touched the young priestess deeply. Pride and love swelled in her heart until it overflowed in the form of tears spilling down over her flushed cheeks.

Ashara was grateful for her husband's steadying arm and even more so his presence beside her for this moment. Knowing that he was finally able to experience what she'd been dreaming about for months brought a smile to her tear-stained face. She'd shared literally everything with this man. Including her most intimate moments at the feet of the Morninglord but they were her experiences that he was living second hand. Now he had one he could truly call his own...

She was unsure how long they remained motionless before her vision widened enough to take in the rest of the room but when it did, she saw that they stood in a large chamber of unremarkable stone construction. Only the ceiling, painted to depict the colorful skies of an early morning, bore any kind of ornamentation. A far cry from some of the ostentatious decor she'd seen from some of the major temples in the West! A simple altar had been built upon the chancel beneath the hovering Dawnstone and looked like an excellent place to rest the Everdawn blade during their petition for acceptance.

So drawn was she to the holy relic, that Ashara was quite startled when four guards came into focus. They stood in the back of the room, armored with full helms, and wearing short swords at their hips. Completely silent and still, the guards didn't acknowledge the newcomers at all.

Slowly she put one foot in front of the other, starting toward the chancel and the Endless Dawn that beckoned. The Abbess had mentioned that some priests would receive messages through the relic but whether or not that would happen for her, Ashara longed only to be closer to that source of serenity and godly love.

She led the way up the steps to the platform, breathing prayers of thanks and praise as they went. When they arrived at the altar, her trembling hand instinctively sought out Elric's, squeezing it gently before she reached up toward the blinding radiance of the Dawnstone that floated just above their heads.

The glowing orb was smooth to her touch. It seemed perfectly fitted to her hand, as if that was what it had been made for. Warm to the touch, it pulsed once in welcome.

Following her lead, Elric reached up also, as he had suspected, his had passed into the orb. To the half-elf, it seemed to have the consistency of cobwebs, or water. He could feel it... Feel the warm tingling of magical healing flow through him, but he was unable to directly affect the stone himself...

He wasn't injured. Ashara had made certain of that, and his regenerative heal was still active. When he touched the dawnstone however, he could feel power... healing power he hadn't felt before. All aches and sore muscles, minor things normal healing didn't bother with, fled from his body. His mind felt clear and at peace. Stress seemed to melt away. He could feel a powerful sense of pride emanating from the orb. He couldn't explain how, but he knew that Lathander was proud of them both. Proud of what they had done in his name.... and proud of what they would do.... The knowledge was humbling indeed.

If this is what the Halls of Morning were like, he was eternally thankful to Ashara for those long talks on the ship to Dagadar...

For the priestess, she felt everything that her husband did, and more. She saw a vision of a knight of Lathander... Sir Ranolf... It had to be. The knight reverently kneeled before the Dawnstone and sang the tradition hymns of blessing. The sword he was blessing laid gently before the altar. Soon the sword floated before the knight, glowing with its own light.

As the priestess knew what to do, the image faded, replaced with a strange sense of urgency. Something about the current mission they had accepted. A feeling of confusion. A sense that there was something missing... She knew that the trouble with the Dawnspire was more than it seemed.

As the empathic message ended, Ashara's hand slowly...reluctantly drifted off the holy orb and back down to her side. The confusion that she'd sensed remained with her. What were they missing?

"The threat to the Dawnspire... There's something we're not seeing..." Her own voice sounded strange to her and though she only whispered the words, in the reverent silence of the chamber it seemed as if she'd screamed them aloud.

Tearing her eyes from the brilliant orb, she turned to her husband and her heart skipped in her chest. His face was luminous! The radiance of the Endless Dawn reflecting off Elric's half-moon elvish features made him seem almost otherworldly... From the look of awe he wore, she realized that his experience had been very similar to her own.

Ashara caught her breath and brushed her hand along his jawline, smiling apologetically for interrupting the moment.

"Whatever's going on with the dead magic zone it's more than just a random occurrence," she continued, a slight furrow appearing between her eyebrows as they pulled together in thought. "We need to go speak with the Abbess to let her know. She might have some further insights into this message...

"But first..." Ashara gently pulled the bundle from beneath Elric's arm and partially unwrapped the weapon that had once belonged to his father. The holy light danced in her eyes, and smiling brightly, she offered the sword to him hilt first, gripping the scabbard so he might pull the blade from it's sheath.

"As our family's patriarch, this sword belongs in your hand. I think it's only proper that by your hand it's laid at the altar to begin the blessing.

Lost in the power of the Dawnstone, the half-elf barely heard her. At the sound of her voice, he tore his eyes from the orb and looked at her. She practically glowed with her own beautiful
inner light, and he shook his head quickly and wiped tears from his eyes.

The glow wasn't an illusion. The wonders of the Dawnstone still shown on her face, and he just grinned. He memorized ever detail he could. This... This he wanted a picture of..." Slowly her words broke through the fog. "Something we're not seeing???"

As she grasped the scabbard and offered him the handle thoughts of their problems were pushed aside by the completion of their original quest. Slowly he drew the sword of his father. The gold and emeralds twinkled brilliantly under the Dawnstone's light. Holding tightly to the golden trunk, he held out the sword for Ashara to hold on too.

"Together."

He felt a tingle run through his arm as her hand clasped the lower part of the golden tree trunk and together they presented what they'd hoped would become the ancestral blade of the Everdawns to Lathander.

Something was happening, Elric could just feel it. A low throbbing in the sword that seemed to beat with his own heartbeat. Suddenly the sword rose from their hands to float silently in front of the Dawnstone. Then drifted to the Stone Altar and settled in a makeshift stand. Though that close to the light source, the side they could see should have been shrouded in darkness, but it wasn't. Here in the inner chamber of the Dawnstone, there were no shadows... The sword facing them shown and sparkled as if it was facing the sun.

As the blade basked in the light of the Endless Dawn, the couple knelt before the altar and Ashara began the same hymns of blessing that Sir Ranolf had sung so many decades ago. Their familiarity brought a smile to her face as she sang. These were among the first songs she could remember hearing as a very young child, sitting on Josiah's knee when he would come to visit the Rosemorns. How dearly she missed her old mentor... There was so much left unsaid, and then he was just...gone...

The songs were sung and the prayers were lifted for the acceptance of the sword. At least for the moment. Ashara would be returning as often as possible to continue the ritual but as the knight that came before her, she knew that Lathander would not deny them their request if they were spending their time out trying to help save the Dawnspire!

Time was slipping by and there was so much to do before morning! Lifting her eyes to the holy relic one last time, the young priestess offered her closing prayer.

"Through your own divine actions you've demonstrated the importance of this place and of the people that defend her. We pray for strength against the evil that encroaches and wisdom to discern the whole truth of this current threat, that we might play some small part in preserving this spark of Hope amidst so much darkness.

"Guide our feet and steel our hearts that we may not falter in our mission, but serve you without reservation. You've shown us today a glimpse of your glorious Halls! What have we to fear?

"Tomorrow as the Dawn breaks, may the enemies of the Morninglord tremble in dismay. For the One Who Brings the Dawn has not forgotten his faithful and has not abandoned his righteous purpose in Myth Drannor. The glory of what once was, will one day be reborn!"

Her heart spoke the rest... That which was rooted most deeply within her. A thankfulness for her own rebirth. Ashara served and gave her life to this deity not out of a sense of obligation or in the pursuit of power, but out of love. Twice she'd been saved by Lathander through no action of her own. Once as a broken and discarded infant flung at the base of the altar in Impresk, and once in Waterdeep, imprisoned within a darkness woven by the Mad God.

Perhaps she'd been placed upon this path, but it was her own feet that kept her to it.

A few moments of silence passed, and Ashara rose to her feet. Elric joined her shortly thereafter and the pair quietly exited the chamber.

"I was given a message as the Abbess mentioned might happen..." She smiled up at her husband, but there was evident concern in her eyes. Taking his arm, they began to descend the stairs toward Alaecathra's study.

"We're missing something... Like there's more to this than what we realize right now. I don't get the feeling that we're heading in the wrong direction tomorrow or anything, just that it's more than just a wayward dead magic zone that we should be worrying about." She shook her head in confusion. "The message was...vague..."

"Vague..." Elric murmured to himself as the silence was broken. "Mine was... 'Intense." The feeling of being so close to the divine was something that the half-elf knew he'd never forget. For the life of him, he couldn't understand how the priests here could live so close... He suspected if he had access to that room, he'd never leave it...

Which caused his mind to spin a bit... if that's what the Hall's of Morning are like, what did that say about their back up plans? He forced those thoughts from his mind. Let the future worry about itself. Today was about the present.

"Sorry... I just..." He blinked a couple of times and refocused on his wife with a wry grin. "Intense."

What did she say... Something they had missed? "What do you think it means? Do you think someone... or thing is controlling it? Using it? Maybe something the Seekers are doing that caused it??"

With quiet joy, she listened to the warrior fumble for words to describe his experience. She had no words either... All she needed to know was told in the wonder and tranquility that still shone in Elric's eyes, and that alone filled her with warmth. It didn't mean she wouldn't ask him more about it later after he'd had time to process, but for now it would have to be enough.

Ashara took a moment to ponder the questions he posed before responding. He always had a way of standing a problem on its head and looking at it from a different perspective, and she very much valued his insights.

"I truly don't know," she sighed with frustration. "It feels like we know so little about the situation... From what the Abbess and Prior have said, the Seekers have made all manner of enemies in this place, and if one of those enemies has already discovered the secrets that Master Hueart is pursuing, maybe they are using that knowledge to grow or move a dead magic zone..." She let the obvious threat just hang.

One of the points Elric mentioned turned her thoughts in a different direction. Were they doing something to cause this? "The Abbess said they had goals in Old Cormanthyr and that the dead magic area has spread across the lake and north along the river into the city... Perhaps those in power in the western city, like the demons Prior Gundlar named, are specifically trying to cut off the Seekers from accomplishing those goals."

The priestess let out a long breath and tugged on a lock of hair. "We know they're trying to restore the city and wipe out the infestation of evil... We know they aid adventurers and probably collect an impressive amount of magic and other valuables from the ruins... That alone could be incentive enough for some magic-hungry beings to hatch a plot to destroy them and loot what's left. Or, perhaps they found something in particular of great value.

"I'm hoping with this knowledge that there's something at work we've not factored in, that the Abbess might have some idea about a specific foe that could be behind this, but with so many enemies to choose from..."

Ashara rubbed her temple, as the continued their descent from the top of the tower. She felt physically and emotionally drained at this point and it wasn't yet evening. That did not bode well for the remainder of what was sure to be a busy day...

"What are your thoughts on the matter?" she asked, turning to Elric. "Do you think maybe they scavenged something from one of the estates that a baelnorn took exception to? As ancient as the liches are, certainly there must be a few who dabbled in High Magic and perhaps have lived under the Mythal long enough to manipulate it..."

"Liches, Demons, Dragons, Phaerrimm... " Elric rambled off a list of known enemies. "Any of them would be 'less than fond' of the Dawnspire... Any would love to loot the treasure horde here... Most are too ancient for 'me' to predict their capabilities. And of course that's not even counting the more 'mundane' enemies like Zentarim and Cult of the Dragon wizards rumored to raid the city from time to time..."

Absently he ran his fingers through his hair. How could they predict who the hidden enemy was... Maybe the 'thing they were missing' wasn't even a secret enemy... Divine messages were simply too vague.

"If... something is controlling the mythal... or creating this dead magic zone... They have to be powerful... and at least 'I' would think, they have to have been here for a VERY long time..." the fighter reasoned. "After all, Kaldric seems to be guessing, and the Seekers have been here so long... and don't know how to do it..." He winked as he added, "Of course... in my experiences mages can do just about anything.... 'in time!"

Ashara's hand, though currently corraled as it was looped through the half elf's arm, twitched towards Dawnspeaker at the mere mention of the Cult of the Dragon. Ohhh how she would love to meet one of those twisted wizards in the middle of a dead magic zone... She wasn't a violent person by nature, but she could be brought to it if provided with the right circumstance, and any orginization that thought it a swell idea to turn evil dragons into DRACOLICHES?! Yeah... They may be bound by oath not to slay Annalganan, the creator of the Most Hated Wyrm but they had taken no such oath in regards to the REST of their sinister members. Considering the Cult's aims and their history with CoRD, meeting one in the ruined streets of Myth Drannor might be just the right circumstance for a holy pummeling.

"Yes, perhaps mages can do just about anything," she chuckled, "some of them at least. Seems that they all enjoy allowing us to think that anyway!

"I'm glad we're going out there with Kaldric tomorrow and not just wandering around completely blind looking for a solution to this. He seems extremely knowledgable about the ruins, dedicating his life to Myth Drannor and the Mythal that he refers to as his wife... What a stormy relationship that must be," she commented with widened eyes.

"Whatever the issue is, Gemblaunt Isle lays smack in the center of the encroaching dead magic zone and Lathander has not dissauded us from that course. Unless the Abbess has some new information in light of this message, then I suppose our destination remains the same."

Ashara let slip a tiny sigh of worry. She felt completely out of her element here. Knowing nothing about the Mythal, next to nothing about Myth Drannor, and heading into an area that would effectively separate her from her deity's power... None of it sat well. As much as the priestess looked forward to one day experiencing the full glory of walking into the Halls of the Morning, she hoped that it wouldn't be tomorrow... There was still a few things she wanted to do in this life!

Hearing her sigh he squeezed her arm a bit tighter. "Don't worry about the Dead Magic Melamin... Remember, we were practically expecting this! You've been fairly, hmmmm... Conservative with your casting since hitting the Mythal anyways... and we've done ok."

The tone of his voice was light, and he had a spring in step that wasn't there earlier. "In fact... I'm almost looking forward to this! Naturally, the weapons will be missed... and the Healing is rarely turned away... but the challenge!!"

His eyes danced as he continued on. "All.. These... " He waved his hands at his various gear. Boots, rings, jewelry. Things that he had earned through blood, sweat and tears. An adventurers treasure. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited to see if I can still win without all this stuff... If I'm still more than I was when I got it..."

He grinned a lopsided grin. "It will be... educational. Discovering how much is me, and how much is the spells people cast on me. During the most dangerous fights of my life... I always had you healing me, and Therogeon making me bigger... or stronger... the sword that makes me faster...

"Besides! I'm pretty sure we'll be fine! Lathander seems to have plans for that mace... and I'm not 100% convinced that this was our mission... Sooooo.... I'm pretty sure we still have some great task in our future!"

His grin went from ear to pointed ear. "Also.... Did you see the sword?!? Lathander is accepting the Everdawn family blade! Why would he do that if our story was going to end here?? I could be wrong of course...." he chuckled a bit, "but if the god of births says we'll be needing an ancestral blade... Then I'm going to believe we'll win this fight!"

"You're right," she grinned back, unwilling to resist Elric's infectious optimism. "There's no doubt that the Morninglord is confident in our ability to make it through this. He knows what we're up against in there and is still aiding us in our plans for the future. Thank you for showing me that, my dear."

The gods...especially the most powerful among them, could often predict the future. It was not mystical divination that granted them this ability, but their tremendous knowledge and wisdom that allowed them to understand the actions that mortals, and even other gods, would take. Still, the fights needed to be fought. There was always an element of uncertainly, however minuscule. That's what separated a prediction from a fact. To further complicate matters, sometimes one god could block the sensing abilities of another god. Undoubtedly that's what happened during the Dawn Cataclysm when Shar's scheming undermined Lathander's efforts to purge evil from the pantheon of Faerun. May the Righteous Dawn burn her black soul to ash...

What Elric had pointed out though was true. Lathander believed that the odds were in their favor, and therefore so would she!

"Educational..." Ashara chuckled as they descended the final staircase to the ground floor of the tower. "Yes, tomorrow will certainly be that! I have every faith in you and your abilities, I think I tell you that often enough for you to believe it's true," she laughed, tracing a finger along the slightly-less scarred knuckles on his calloused hand, " and I look forward to seeing you in action without all the magical trappings I'll admit it. The dance is your niche. Your strength. It's a joy to watch you change and develop your skills to suit different situations. It's not only for the view that I watch your practices in the mornings, you see." Winking, she quickly appended that statement. "Though...perhaps that's a large part of it..."

Her eyes dropped to the floor briefly before she continued, as if realizing the true nature of her concern for this little foray into the dead magic area.

"I do believe that this mission will be successful, but for my own part I just hope I can still be of use to you out there and that you won't have to do all the work!" Ashara sighed. She hated the thought of him having to pick up her slack and possibly put himself in more dangerous situations because of it!

"Without Lathander's power available to me or Dawnspeaker's usual potency in my grasp, I'll be little more than a sub-par fighter in a shiny suit. Channeling that power...keeping everyone in fighting form... That's my niche...without that available at all?? Well...I'll be a little twitchy, I won't pretend otherwise," she grinned half-heartedly.