Autumn 1372

"I'll show you old age..." he teased back as he dug into the gift. It was obviously a book of some kind. Heavy, Leather bound.

"Your sure this isn't for Therogeon?" He quipped curiously. While Elric could, and did read occasionally. It wasn't a regular habit of his. If she was this excited about a book.... his head spun in anticipation. Finally the silver ribbon came loose and the silk fell away. Curiosity turned to wonder, and wonder to utter speechlessness.

In his hands was a rich brown leather wrapped book. Obviously new, he stared at the cover. Stamped in an elegant golden script was the words, 'The Adventures of Arden, Marinelle & Tomar - Volume 1'.

Quickly he flipped through the pages, and saw the stories his father had read to him, JUST as they had heard during their shared memory read... and not just the words. Wonderfully illustrated throughout. Images of his Father, his mother, even Tomar, just as they had seen him at his birth.... Even there at the end... When Arturo/Arden was rewarded for the Dragon battle... receiving a beautiful sword. The same sword that basked in the light of the Dawnstone at this very moment.

"I... How? When?!?" He sputtered out in joy and amazement.

Ashara clapped gleefully, happy and relieved that her gift was so well received.

"What!? Just because I don't like secrets doesn't mean I don't know how to keep them," she grinned. "I've been working on the sketches since the Memory Read, and after the siege broke in Evereska, I asked Vailis to help me find someone to bind a book for me. There was plenty of time to work on it on the road and keeping to myself in the minotaur caverns..."

As nice as it was to see Kaber's homeland and meet his people, it was a bit of relief to be away from the underlying tension that seemed to accompany their visit. Elric never relaxed. Kaber never relaxed. Eddick and Gwilly seemed fine, but the other minotaurs were evidently not sold on the idea of visitors and it set Ashara on edge. That could simply be just how minotaurs were....it was hard to tell. When the time came though, it was good to leave and go out on caravan guarding duty, where the threat was generally just bandits and the occasional monster instead of the possibility of an angry tribe of minotaurs.

Shaking off the memory, Ashara continued, brushing her fingers across the leather cover. "I hope that it will be the first of a series of stories. Something we could... Maybe read to our children someday," she blushed. "Should we be fortunate enough to have any that is. That way they will get to know a bit about their grandfather and grandmother."

His hands traced the golden letters on the cover. Passing on his father's story to his children just as it had been told to him... He wished he'd known at the time that Arden was Arturo... How many years had gone by thinking his father was a simple shepherd...

"And what of our stories Melamin?" He asked with a grin widening at the thought of passing on that tradition.

"Can we expect an 'Adventures of CoRD: Volume one.... two.... through Seven?!?"

"Someday I think I'd like that, yes," she replied with a soft, slightly sad smile. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to tell many of those stories yet. Though nearly all are detailed in my journals, telling them would be difficult for me. So much death and destruction...I would have a hard time romanticizing them this close to the actual happening. That's not my gift. I'm no bard!"

Grinning, Ashara reached out to caress her husband's cheek. "That's your gift, my dear! You write the stories and I'll put them to canvas. I think it would be nice to work on the tales of the Champions of the Red Dawn as a team."

Her eyes suddenly lit up and she glanced back to their pile of gear. "There's one more thing I have for your birthday, Aratoamin. One picture in mind that I would love to paint if we ever are to tell the story of our visit to Myth Drannor!"

Ashara hopped off of the bed and padded over to the pile. After a moment she unearthed a bundle deliberately hidden amidst the gear and brought it back to lay it gently on the bed before Elric.

"Though much coercion, I convinced the Abbess to let us borrow it just for the evening." Smiling, the priestess unwrapped the familiar pieces of the Arm of Valor and looked up at the half elf excitedly. "We have to stay within the compound walls and she wants it back before Dawnsmeet, but...."

She grinned broadly and pointed to the ceiling. Through the ceiling really, to the top of the tower.

"Let's go see the lights!"

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

3rd of Nightal

The half-elf had grown more and more anxious as the days had passed. They'd seen little of the mages since the fall of Gemblaunt... The Abbess had reclaimed the Arm after their amazing Birthday flight, and it hadn't been seen since. The Everdawns had made their case for disassembly, and there had been much meditating and prayer in the tower... but whatever decision had been decided, they hadn't heard yet. The way some fo the senior priests spoke, it was clear that the Everdawn's weren't the only ones out of the loop.

The dead magic had stopped growing. Regardless of what the mages determined, that much seemed to be certain. That thought gave Elric a good feeling, but he didn't like being on the outside... Still, if they were sent to save the Dawnspire from the Phaerrim, then they had succeeded. The quest of Lathander was completed... and though it wasn't the first one they'd done... it was still a feeling of accomplishment.

Each day he saw his father's sword take on more and more of a glow as the Dawnlord rewarded them...

He did what he could to stay busy, The Morninglords always welcomed a strong pair arms and good back. But the waiting for the mages felt interminably long... Finally on a clear winter day when the sun was nearly at it's peak, they received a summons. The Abbess had finally called a meeting.

With a giddy gleam in his eye he practically raced his equally eager wife to the room where some answers could be revealed. Panting slightly he slammed his hand into the door frame to keep from sliding past and grinned at Ashara. "This race was mine!"

"Fairly won", Ashara admitted with a grin, huffing up to the half elf. "But I had you up until the stairs! I nearly killed myself running down them in these robes, which would've been really awkward after surviving Gemblaunt."

She actually chuckled at the poor fortune she would have to have to survive Myth Drannor only to break her neck in a fall amidst the relative safety of the tower.

Laughing, she patted her powerful husband on the shoulder. "I demand a rematch later this evening in the courtyard!! And I'll be better prepared this time don't you doubt. Even if that means I need to pull out my breeches from the bottom of the pa--..."

All mirth died there on her lips. The priestess wasn't sure if it was a scent she caught or maybe a tingling emanating from the holy mace she bore. Maybe it was just a burgeoning sixth sense. Either way, Ashara's face went hard as stone and she pushed past Elric, shoving the meeting room door open.

Seated around the table were the Abbess, the Prior, Kaldric and all the other mages who'd been so scarce over the last days, but Ashara's eyes settled only on the cold, glowing pinpoints of light set into the baelnorn's empty eye sockets.

Illrune, it went by...

In spite of her earlier request, Alaecathra had ignored the younger priestess' plea to be made aware of visiting abominations and while the Abbess certainly had much on her plate lately and no doubt the baelnorn may have some meager insights on matters of the Mythal, Ashara hardly found such to be acceptable excuses. Still, to her credit, she offered no insult but a low growl in the direction of the lich before seating herself as far away as possible from it.

There would be a time later in Ashara's life when she would better understand the lengths the Seeker went to to protect the priests under her care and the mission given them by the Morninglord, but this was not that time. To the young woman, all the world was still painted in the stark contrast of black and white.

Her cheeks burned furiously, but she offered a nod of greeting to her superior, while her hand hovered over the empty seat beside her as it waited to clench her husband's leg.

"Thank you for joining us." The Abbess said as tactfully as she could. The ever-alert priestess had quickly noticed the shift in both the Everdawn's normally cheerful demeanor and she had little doubt about why. The disgust was written all over their faces as they glared at the Baelnorn seated at the table. The lich in turn seemed almost amused by the discomfort he brought.

"I hope we didn't keep you waiting," Elric apologized curtly as he sat next to his wife and flinched as he felt her grab hold.

"Not at all." Alaecathra said pleasantly. "In fact we expect a few more."

Fortunately the others soon arrived. A few of the higher ranking priests, including the Hand of Lathander Tallathern and Shandel, one of his fingers... Something passed between the young woman and his wife and she quickly took a seat and focused all of her attention as far from the Everdawns as possible. A bewildered half-elf whispered into Ashara's ear. "Your going to have explain what that is all about later... "

A thud on the other side of him quickly alerted Elric that Jorelon had arrived too. "Hey there!" He said with typical enthusiasm. "Did they start yet?"

"Nope... not yet." Elric responded with a sigh... He would have sworn that he could feel the undead pins of light searing into his soul... but every time he looked, the lich was paying him no mind...

"I think that's everyone." The Abbess said as the door to the makeshift conference room was shut. Quickly she started into the story of what the Everdawn's and their allies had done on Gemblaunt. the dead magic zone, the Phaerrim... Elric was quickly getting bored as she repeated not only what he had lived... but a story he'd been repeating for the last few days. Still he supposed it was logical that everyone be on the same page. Still his mind tended to drift a bit until Geldman stood up.

Elric grinned as the young man seemed overly flustered. He had charts and graphs and the mage must have put a LOT of effort into this presentation.

"Well... we'll start off easy... Who knows what a Tel'kirra stone is?"

"Lore gem." the abbess translated with a sigh. This could be long presentation.

"Yes, yes... Lore gem. Typically they stored the knowledge and history of the elf's heritage. Fascinating devices, I had only heard of them before."

"They pop up from time to time..." Gundlar said aloud. "Not much use to anyone who isn't an elf."

"Nor should they be," the Ilrune inserted acridly. "Human brains are not meant to hold that kind of knowledge..."

"Nor are Half-elves," Elric whispered to his wife next to him. "Sounds a bit too much like that chair..."

Ashara glanced over to her husband and nodded in response. Indeed, even without the chair in place, that room looked far too much like the Memory Chamber in Uuvaren's Library. It had put her immediately on edge... There had been enough brain melting for one vacation already!

"What then of the phaerimm?" Giving her husband some relief by removing her nails from his leg, the priestess sat back and crossed her arms tightly in front of her. Her attempt to appear at ease failed miserably.

"It said it had been plotting this...whatever it is...for two decades before it was destroyed. The tel'kirra were obviously of some use."

"Obviously." the Lich spoke with such barely contained fury that Elric paid little attention to the rude interruptions. "A Phaerrim... may be able to access one."

"I have little doubt of it," Geldman spoke up. "In fact I have no doubt about it at all."

Elric understood the lich on a different level then. While he would eagerly join his wife in a good old fashioned smiting on the creature... Some sense of long dismissed family pride shared the Baelnorn's fury. The idea that a Phaerrim had access to the lives and knowledge of an elf... many, many elves if he accessed ALL the stones he'd seen... All their hopes, all thier dreams... used against by that THING, against the city they had loved... He suddenly wanted to kill the thornback all over again.

"It gets worse..." Kaldric added from his chair. "Tell them the rest."

"You said something... before it all fell apart," Elric prodded. "You and Adaldo mentioned the Ar'cor'Kerym... and high magic?"

"Yes." the mage said deadly serious. "For those unaware, The Ar'cor'Kerym... it was the Ruler's blade of Cormanthyr. The blade that chose the worthiness of the Coronel.. the king of all Cormanthyr."

"The trial was a deadly one.. like the moonblades that came after anyone judged unworthy was killed on the spot, right?" Elric asked, testing his ancient knowledge of the tales.

"Of course. The gods couldn't let this kind of power be in the hands of just anyone..." The Baelnorn said in response. "The Ar'cor'Kerym was power... and not just the political kind."

The half-elf looked towards Geldman hoping he'd explain more, and hopefully less cryptically. He was quickly rewarded.

"The sword had three Tel'kirra built into it's hilt, like I mentioned before. Anyone wielding the sword had the knowledge of the rulers who came before him.... but they weren't just ordinary Tel'kirra. They were Sel'kirra."

"High Lore gems... You said that before too... but it still doesn't mean anything to me." The half-elf said seeing a few other confused faces in the crowd... and a few very, very serious ones...

"Tel'kirra had more than simple history stored in them." Kaldric offered. "It stored what was most important to the one who wore it.... For many elves, they were traveling spellbooks."

"And High Lore gems... were... " He asked fearing the answer.

"Sel'kirra stored the knowledge of High Magic."

A sharp intake of breath circled the table as the horror of what might have been took hold of those gathered. The Everdawns had guessed as much during their made flight from Gemblaunt, but some part of them hoped that they were mistaken. Apparently not...

If it were possible for a lich to look forlorn, Illrune did at that moment. So much knowledge lost in that explosion. So much history! That didn't make Ashara want to dust it any less of course.

"The Ruler's Blade," she began, refusing to suffer the ridicule for humanly butchering the elvish word, "had the phaerrim found it then and removed the high lore gems in order to pillage its secrets? I didn't see such a weapon in the room but we had little time to peruse what the thing had collected."

The priestess prayed that the great artifact wasn't forever lost to the elves, though it was unlikely that anything survived such an explosion.

A sobered Jorelon interjected with a question of his own. "And what about that weird machine? It looked like it was working and guarded by undead... Do you know if or how that ties in to the ritual in the old temple?"

The mages murmured in annoyance at the question.

"The machine... is still a mystery I'm afraid. May always be now..." Kaldric answered when things quieted down. "I wish I'd seen it myself... but from what has been described, I can't say with any certainty."

"There's been a lot of disagreements on it's purpose," Geldman cut in. The two best theories are that it either had 'something to do with powering the ritual.... or it could have been something entirely different. The Translocation aspect of it, makes me think that was how the Phaerrim was finding his army. Somehow tapping into a portal and summoning his minions...

"As for the Ruler's blade... No... I don't think it was physically there... It's the 'theory' behind the Blade that means so much. First how much do you know about High Magic?"

"Little to none." Elric piped up, eager for new information.

"As the name entails, it's magic that is far and away more powerful than anything an ordinary mage could imagine. Even the Mages of Netheril... with their floating cities never truly cast 'high' magic. That was a realm for the elves." The mage looked uncomfortably towards the lich. Ilrune glared unmoving at the one speaking of his people's secrets. Elric could feel the tension, but since the Baelnorn offered no verbal objections, the mage continued.

"High magic is the kind that can reshape worlds, rework continents or even change the nature of magic itself... It's how the Mythal's were originally created. There truly was nothing that couldn't be accomplished with the right planning...

"There was a catch though. The more powerful the spell... the more mages it took. One high mage was only marginally more powerful than a regular one... And the magic had a price... Mortal forms weren't meant to wield that much power... and as often or not, it would shred the mage to his core... or do 'other things'... "

"Like... Wild magic 'things'?" The half-elf wondered in awe.

"Similar... but worse. Wild magic is just that... Wild. Anything can happen. Good, Bad, neutral... If a high magic spell went awry then people or even cities died... or were aged... or were cut off from the weave...

"Hence the reason for the circles."

"Circles... Rituals?" Alaecathra spoke up. "Like our own cooperative magic?"

"Very similar." Geldman nodded excitedly. "Nearly all the high mages required at least two others to form a basic circle... for more complex spells, they need more people."

"Wait..." Elric said as this talk of magical theory bounced around his head. "What does this have to do with the Ruler's Blade... You.. You said there were three Selu'kirra in the hilt... Does that mean??"

"Yes, That's exactly what he means." Ilrune stated coldly. "Whoever held the Ruler's blade gained the knowledge of at least three High mages.

"The Coronel of Cormanthyr became a Circle of Three all by himself!"

That drained the blood from the priestesses face. Anyone wielding that amount of power could literally change the face of Faerun...and in the hands of a phaerrim?! Ashara felt her stomach roll over. A crisis of epic proportion had been oh so narrowly averted down there in Gemblaunt!

How many selu'kirra stones were down there, she wondered... They may never know.

"This ritual the phaerrim was conducting," the priestess spoke up after a few moments of silence passed in thoughtful horror. "How was it moving the dead magic zone? Was the phaerrim actually using high magic to do that? Is that how it was able to cast spells down there?!"

Her voice rose an octave as questions spilled forth. They'd been more than a little concerned about the grim situation even while in their ignorance and now Ashara found herself thankful that they hadn't known the full story. A high magic using phaerrim? It was a miracle they were even alive right now...

"Nothing so mundane." The Baelnorn said in frustration. "Geldman, Show them what you showed me..."

The mage immediately started shuffling some of his paperwork. Even amidst the cold chills that this revelation revealed... Elric couldn't suppress a twitch of a grin. It seemed Geldman had a specific order to the meeting, but now he was floundering a bit. The half-elf elf's brow crinkled as the mage pulled out a graph showing various interlocking circles.

"Look familiar?!" the mage asked noticing his scrutiny.

"Not at all..."

"Try it like this..." Geldman uttered arcane syllables and made some complex gestures. Various points in the circles flashed to life as tiny pin sized lights appeared. With a wave of his hand they floated towards the center of the room and expanded outwards. "How about now?"

"Nope..." Jorelon hazarded a word as he watched the lights surround them all.

"Wait..." Elric said. "Is this the ritual? I don't remember there being that many...

"Some I was able to document at the time, but some I had to recreate with 'best guess' theory... There were stones that were burned out."

"So what are we looking at then." Alaecathra said voice dripping with curiosity.

"A high magic circle." the mage said proudly. "These blue dots here... were Selu'kirra. Where the original binders and weavers of the spell would have stood, the lesser stones... provided the place for the secondary weavers. Not really High mages in themselves... but they provided a stabilizing force for the spell..."

"And more lives for it to feed on." The lich spoke ominously.

"Oh yes, Magic is hungry, and if you want something truly magnificent then you must give of yourself to do it... Hence the circles. Where the spell would devour one mage completely.... Stealing just a touch of life from each in the circle could feed the spell and still allow the weavers to walk away.... Though it didn't work that away the first time."

"You know what spell it was trying to work?" The abbess stated in surprise.

"Oh yes... I'd seen it before. When I was just a child..." He muttered a word or two and the lights were systematically replaced with full bodied, detailed representations of elves... and men.

"Coronal Eltargrim, The Srinshee; High Court mage Aearynspieir Ongluth; Aulautha Orbryn, the Lades Echorn and Mistwinter..." He rattled name after name as the Elves of old popped into view.

"Is that...." Jorelon whispered as he pointed towards the bearded human who looked vaguely familiar.

"Yes." The lich said irritated by the interruption. "That is Elminster of Shadowdale... long before he knew what Shadowdale was." One last elf popped into being at the dead center of the ritual circle. An elf, old by even the elves standards but with a jovial smile. Suddenly he spread his hands outward and beams of light shot out and ricocheted from archmage to archmage and webbed out from there and spread to the secondary mages. As the image did this the smiling elf exploded in a blast of red mist and white fire. The weave surged in power as the spectators gasped.

"And of course, Mythanthar. The Elf who dreamed up the idea of Mythals and knowingly gave his life to fuel the birth of this one."

The priestess watched the elaborate illusions in awe, knowing that she was watching exactly what had transpired so many centuries before! The building of the Mythal, the sacrifice of life... It was terrible and beautiful.

Ashara stole a glance across the table at Kaldric, in whose prismatic eyes welled tears as he watched the display. She could only imagine what was going through the Initiate's mind at that moment.

Neither mage nor elf, the understanding of what precisely the phaerrim was looking to achieve seemed slightly beyond her comprehension.

"Was it building a new Mythal of its own design or tearing down what remains of the current one?" She questioned the group, much more interested in the answer than appearing ignorant.

"Both... Neither...?" Geldman said awkwardly.

"By my.... our, calculations, I believe he was trying to 're-write' the mythal." He pointed to the various images of the high mages. "When the Mythal was originally laid, Each of the primary casters placed a set of powers inside the mythal. Regulations, stipulations... special abilities to protect the people inside it.

"That's why the weather is so mild... some people have gained the ability to feather fall at the last moment....."

"There are many powers in Myth Drannor" the baelnorn interrupted. More than many people have ever imagined... and more than even I remember."

"There were heavy restrictions placed on what magic could and could not be worked on 'the People'. It's why divination and summoning is so.... fickle. Also why things like the mental domination aren't supposed to work at all."

"I though that was from the Mythal weakening... " Elric questioned aloud.

"No. the wild surges... Those are the result of our mythal dying.... but the prohibitions were there from the beginning. Some of those have fallen.. In it's prime, no Drow, demons, orcs or the like would even be allowed inside the mythal... "

"That was intentional." Ilrune said softly. "The opening of the city to the lesser races nearly tore this nation in half. Blood spilled the streets and mage fire consumed many lives... The prohibitions were put in place to both open the city, and protect the frightened... Even during the actual casting of this spell... traitor's tried to usurp the spell... rewriting it to kill any non-elf in the city."

"The spell should have collapsed..." Geldman said with a grimace. "A casting like that can't get interrupted."

"She wanted to live." Kaldric whispered in awe.

"Yes... whether the mythal itself or Mystra... it's long believed that some outside force saved the city that day... but the traitor was destroyed and the city was protected."

"And the Phaerrim?" Alaecathra prodded.

"Yes! The phaerrim..." Geldman got back on track. "It's my belief that he was rewriting the prohibitions. The 'dead magic' as we recognized it... wasn't dead magic at all. It was simply a field where ONLY Phaerrimm could access the weave."

"Even worse than dead magic," Ashara Whispered into the ear of her husband.

"The phaerimm could have looted and pillaged to it's black heart's content and very little if ANYTHING in this city would've been able to stop it and its army of thralls!" She shook her head gently and exhaled an incredulous sigh. "When it was done stripping Myth Drannor of knowledge and wealth, there would've been no limit to the destruction it could have wrought..."

"Maybe not the most relaxing of vacations, Melamin," she shot Elric a little wink, "but I certainly am glad we came when we did!"

"I know what you mean..." he whispered back. He shuddered as he squeezed her hand. It may have seemed like a vacation at the time... but now more then ever he felt a higher power at work. The visions, the swords, Lathander had sent for them to be his Champions once more. All the way from Spine of the World. His humbled look passed his thoughts to Ashara more than words could.

"The Phaerrim always wanted this city for their own... it was the only thing they actually agreed on." Alaecathra said in disgust.

"We got lucky." Kaldric interjected. "The original ritual took hours to complete at most... This one was happening much slower."

"He jury-rigged a circle," Geldman said shaking his head. "It shouldn't have worked at all! Apparently with these limitations the 'Phaerimm only' area was steadily increasing... with the goal of taking the whole city."

"That's why the items still showed as magical... the magic was still there, we just couldn't access it..."

Ashara nodded slowly as understanding dawned. Another piece of the puzzle snapped into place. Unfortunately there were plenty of questions whose answers were vaporized in Gemblaunt's massive explosion...well...most recent massive explosion.

"So what about the current field?" The priestess spoke up once more. "It doesn't appear to be growing any longer, but will it remain permanently or simply recede since the ritual wasn't completed?"

"Difficult to say for certain," Geldman said half-heartedly. "It's possible it could shrink back to what it was.... but the fact that it hasn't altered yet doesn't give me much hope for that possibility."

"No... " Ilrune rasped in annoyance. "The high magic did it's work, and unless another circle would be formed.... I don't see it being repaired. Since the Sel-kirra were lost, I believe this will simply be one more distraction that the residents of this fair city will simply learn to live with."

Elric was torn. He wished they'd been able to restore the mythal, but the thought of that kind of power in any hands, even the Seekers, made him uneasy. Some little part in the back of his mind told him it was probably for the best that such secrets were destroyed.

Speaking of which.

"What about the Arm? Has any decisions been made about that?"

"Yes," The abbess said hesitantly. "The Arm of Valor was intended for Myth Drannor and so it shall remain here. But I agree that the power is too great and would make our temple to great a target if it stayed assembled.

"I've spent the last few days personally contacting a few of the Dawnspire's allies. The Arm will be split between us. Two parts here in the tower, the rest scattered amongst our allies to come together in a time of need."

"Allies?" Elric said wide-eyed. His mind raced to think who she could possibly mean. Possibly Shamus from the temple of Shaundakul... certainly not the lich?!? His mouth twisted into a grimace as he started to ask. Alaecathra beat him to the punch.

"Allies that it is best stay secret amongst the council itself. Be assured they are capable both in power and the trust of the Seekers to fullfill their part in the alliance."

The nodded in quiet acquiescence. Judging from the company here around the table, she wasn't sure how 'assured' she felt, but Alaecathra was placed as leader of the Seekers for a reason. The Morninglord put his trust in her and that was more than enough.

"The Dawnspire is fortunate to have such wise and strong leadership, your Radiance." Ashara offered honestly. A grin crept across her face as she added, "I'm glad and relieved that these issues have been brought to a close. Now so that Seekers can get back to the usual life threatening troubles!"

"Thanks in no small part to you and Elric, sister." Alaecathra said gratefully. Believe me when I say your contributions won't be forgotten."

Elric squeezed her hand and grinned widely. They had been barraged with questions since the adventure had finished, and there was no small amount of giddiness knowing that their tale would be stored amongst the archives.

Elric and Ashara Everdawn. On the same shelves as the founding of the Dawnspire... and even the arrival of Lathander himself! Something else he could never have dreamed.


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

The next morning he woke with a start. It was still dark, Something was different this morning.... He couldn't put his finger on it, but somehow he just... knew.

Feeling a stirring beside him, he looked at his wife. The look in her eyes said that she felt it too. The last thing he remembered... The dream of the Dawnstone... the place that it had sent them.... Their sword...

Gasping he looked toward the door, and back to Ashara. "Do you think today's the day?!"

The young woman blinked in surprise, as elation lifted the corners of her mouth in concert with her eyebrows. "You too? You felt it...you think it's... HA!!!"

Filled with joyful enthusiasm, she kissed Elric passionately before throwing off the covers and vaulting herself from the bed. Poor Heren, startled from a pleasant dream upon the windowsill, squeaked with alarm and launched into the air assuming the hells had opened a portal into his bedchamber.

"Are you ready, Melamin!? Come on, come on, let's go see it!"

Ashara threw open the door and started down the hallway in naught but her husband's old shirt, thankfully coming to her senses just a few steps away. Sheepishly she padded back into the room and shut the door.

"Right. Clothes first. Heh... I think I'm getting too used to these Dawnsmeets!"

"Ohhh?" Elric said with a mischievous grin as he quickly rummaged for a clean shirt. "You won't hear ME complain anytime soon." He looked at her with mock indecision for a moment before tossing his beautiful wife her clerical vestments.

The morning was early, though not that early. Had the dream or vision not woken them up, Ashara would have certainly begun stirring anyway. Elric could practically 'feel' the dawn coming soon.

As could the others.

As the freshly dressed Everdawns entered the hallway, There was the normal bustle of priests preparing for their morning rituals. Friendly greetings were passed between them as they strolled out towards the courtyard, but Elric felt a tugging upward.

"Ashara... I think... I think we're supposed to spend this Dawnsmeet at the Dawnstone."

Curious wonder shone in her eyes as Ashara lifted them up toward the spiraling staircase that would take them to the holy relic. She's spent many hours kneeling before the Dawnstone these past few days, but something about this felt...different. Butterflies burst into chaotic motion in her belly.

"The Everdawn Blade," she whispered reverently. With the blessing of Lathander, the family weapon should now be ready to receive enchantments. There was a whole host of things to be done now! Additional components would need to be collected for the abilities they hoped to imbue upon it, and a new altar would need to be constructed for this purpose. They'd already decided on the roof of the Champions House. It would take a good deal of time and effort before their sword was complete, but that didn't diminish the excitement Ashara felt at that moment.

"I think you're right," she smiled brightly, finally turning to address her husband. "Dawnsmeet at the Dawnstone it is! A chance of a lifetime, so it's best not to keep him waiting!"

Suddenly her eyes widened as she looked beyond Elric and down the hallway. "Although," her hand trembled as it pointed off in the distance behind him, "that could put a serious crimp in our morning!"

The half elf turned in alarm to address a possible (though nonexistent) threat...

Just as Ashara had hoped! With a victorious laugh, the priestess hiked up her robe and bounded up the stairs ahead of the salk-sirra master.

"CHEAT!!!" Elric's voice cried after her as he bounced up the stairs in pursuit. With his magic boots, he could think of a dozen ways to retake the lead. Well, Four at the very least. But he enjoyed the chase too much.

More than one resident scooted quickly out of their way in confusion and Elric's good natured, but hurried apology salved any frayed tempers. Before long, he reached the top of the tower, mere seconds after Ashara did.

"Ok..." he gasped as reached for the handle. "You got that one, my dear... Next time though... Next time will be a bit different..."