Building Anew

[Shin]

There were too many people of power appearing in one location and D’Angelo gave Blackburn a concerned look. Perhaps it wasn’t the amount of people that concerned him D’Angelo decided, but the sheer power of those that were around.

He remained firm however, silent, and ready to act. After all it had only been mere minutes ago when the Queen was assaulted. None of the men, or women, here would get the chance. When the newest addition to the room entered, a creature of the likes which D’Angelo had never seen, he had to remind himself not to stare out of curiosity.

Despite the conversations that were taking place and the Queens reference to him D’Angelo clammed up and only nodded to the older man, the Dragon Rider. What exactly did that mean though, other than the obvious, riding dragons; were the creature that powerful? If so, why weren’t there more? Why would a queen be so awed by one? D’Angelo had too many questions.
--

The old man patted the air in front of him with both hands, as if the gesture would calm the queen some. “Calm now. I am nothing more than an old man full of hot wind that knows a trick or two. Rayn here is nothing more than..

‘Don’t even say it.’ This time the powerful creature’s voice would echo in the minds for all those around to hear. The voice, while powerful and awe inspiring, was distinctively feminine in tone.

“… a beautiful and majestic creature. Is what I was going to say.” He offered the queen a sly wink and stood up from the table. Kal stood tall and straight for a man that appeared to be in his mid-forties, his hair lightly grayed and his face firm, yet eyes soft. Those eyes turned to look at the newest arrival to the dining table, though if he held any reservations about Slylai he kept them hidden behind a mask of politeness. Slylai would notice more than just the magic that surrounded Rayne, even if it did cloak his own minor illusions.

Kal wasn’t entirely as he appeared, and even though his current appearance wasn’t far from his true identity, it was what Kal would have looked like in his forties had he not been a dragon rider. Without the illusions Kal’s skin would be a dull blue and as hard as rock and his eyes would be identical to that of Raynes. It was often said that the longer the rider and dragon were bonded the more the rider became like the dragon he was bonded with.

“Morgana, a beautiful name, befitting a Queen. Did you know my first wife’s name was Morgana…a very interesting story there; she was also a Queen..well, tribal leader really.” He smiled again but didn’t continue and instead gestured to all of the food that was placed out. “This is your court your Majesty. I am simply here if I am needed, troubled times are ahead.”

“Well, if you must go to your garden, than I insist. However, if you don’t mind I believe Rayn and I would like to become more acquainted with the castle and its grounds. But perhaps ….”

‘Still your tongue.’ Rayn snapped again so that only he and Igraine could hear. ‘Igraine, I would be happy to accompany to your garden, let the old man go check out your books and tombs and whatever else he can read.’ The blue-tipped hawk moved forward of its own accord, suspended by magic in the air as it’s form shifted again, a bright blue light showing only it’s outline as a blue dove hovered where the hawk just had.

With the sort of boldness that only a dragon could produce the dragon turned hawk turned dove would move to land lightly on Igraines shoulder. ‘You know … Rayn is a beautiful middle name.’ She said for only the Queen to hear.

“Yes, well.” Kal said with a cough. “With your leave.” He said with a bow and turned to walk away.

[Igraine]

Igraine blushed slightly when Slyail mentioned her lover Thorin and brushed some of the hair away from her face in order to see him better. It was the first time anyone in the room had seen her hair down. The marks on her neck were almost gone, but the bruises on her wrists were still there, still quite angry looking, but she smiled.

"Thorin will not be joining us. I believe he has decided to leave court altogether." It was commendable the way she held herself together. It was obvious she loved the brute and it was obvious that she was hurting somewhere on the inside. She smiled at the dragon rider and bowed her head as the Dragon spoke. The dragon's touch was featherlight as it landed on her shoulder. She could feel the dove's wings brush against her face, the feathers soft and the scent otherworldly. If she were more versed in dragon-lore she might be able to understand the scent better.

"Rayne is a lovely middle name. I would give it to my daughter, if you would allow it. Morgana Rayne Lothair. It has a decidedly royal sound to it doesn't it?" Igraine smiled brightly at the dragon, tilting her head in the direction of the dragon without bumping it. She took another bite of the apple and offered some of it to the dove dragon. It would be positively rude not to offer her a bite. She felt, somewhere deep inside her, that Rayne would be a true companion to her and understand her like no one else. Igraine wondered if that was something dragons were capable of doing without effort.

"It's settled then, we'll have a walk in the gardens. Would you like to see my apothecary? I've only just put it together and Master D'Angelo has given me such a wonderful addition. Moonflowers, weren't they, Master D'Angelo?" Igraine turned to Nicoli and smiled. "Do take all the time you like surveying my castle and the grounds Master Drasco. I hope that you will find them accomodating." Igraine turned to walk toward the gardens but turned to the side and looked back at the dragon rider. "Oh, and do check the lower levels. I think you will enjoy what you find. They're carved into the bedrock, but the room at the very end will be what you seek." He would know what she meant, that the Faerie portal she used to take anyone with her to the Faerie Realm was there. It was legendary really, and he would want to inspect the incredible detail carved into the rock.

"Slyail, would you like to come to the gardens as well? You may stay and eat if you like, but I think an apple is all I'm going to be able to stomach this morning." Igraine smiled and patted her flat belly beneath the tight emerald silk bodice. The bruises were there, everyone saw them, but she chose to ignore them. Her wheat blonde hair fell in waves and loose curls down her back.

"Rayne, I am curious..." Igraine said as she began to walk to her garden, everyone passing them gave her a cursory glance but thought nothing of her talking to a bird. "What is it like to fly? I have always wanted to know what it is like." She said with a smile as they stepped through the back door and into her expansive gardens. The sun was shining and flowers were blooming. Nicoli was right, some were just beginning to open as she passed by. Igraine felt at ease in the gardens and with life for the time being. It would all hit her again later, but for now she was content to be with a dragon, an assassin, and a water mage.

[Shin]

The dragons feathers ruffled with pride when the Queen agreed on her idea. There was no way quicker to a dragons good side than through vanity and appealing to superiority dragons often believed they had over the other races, and weren’t afraid to remind them from time to time. Rayn, at over four thousand years old was no exception to this general rule of thumb. She already decided that she liked this queen before her, enough to even take their mission in the castle a little more serious than babysitting.

‘It is amazing. Nothing else can compete with it in the world.’ The bird exclaimed so that only Igraine could hear. ‘You know, there are such spells out there that could grant you the ability, or items that can function for the same purpose. They are rare….but..’ If the bird could smile, it surely would of then. ‘Kally… I mean Kal, don’t tell him I told you that. Kal knows a vast amount of spells, not as many as a dragon mind you….but for a human it is very impressive, or so I am told.’

While the bird-dragon and the queen spoke to one another, or what D’Angelo assumed was speaking because he couldn’t hear the dragon creature’s words, he walked a few steps behind. Waiting only a moment to see if the sea creature was going to stay and eat or if he was going to join them all in the garden. D’Angelo already decided that wasn’t particularly fond of the rider and his pet, D’Angelo didn’t know the first thing about either of them and they had the run of the castle. ‘Perfect’ he thought, pulling the cowl of his cloak over him to shroud his form and remain in the shadows as they walked, he wanted to be alone with his thoughts for the moment, hide from all these extremely powerful beings.

[Igraine]

A smile lit Igraine's face as she wandered into the secluded corner garden where her apothecary building was. She glanced at the dove on her shoulder and nodded as it spoke, genuinely interested in everything she said.

"Fascinating. I'm sure there is not a creature living that has half as much knowledge as a dragon. I am proud to say that you are the very first I've ever met." Igraine walked toward the Apothecary, but thought better of it for the time being and settled on a bench by the door. It was warm in the sunshine and she leaned against the building, careful of the dragon. She closed her eyes and let the sun seep into her skin and warm the turmoil in her chest and the churning of her stomach. She set the half eaten apple on the bench beside her, forgetting about it for the time being.

"I should like to experience flying some day. It's probably prudent not to try any spells while I'm pregnant. We can't go having your namesake perish, now can we?" Igraine smiled and let her eyes flutter open as she cast a sidelong glance at the dragon on her shoulder. "If you like you can inspect my private garden. You might find some things you would like. Though I bet you've seen everything as a dragon. My mother has known dragons and befriended several. I am so glad that you're the very first that I get the pleasure of meeting. You're so very nice." Igraine let her eyes flutter closed once again.

There was a muffled sound from inside the apothecary, a few muttered words and a short laugh. Kahlan moved around the little apothecary her daughter had set up and smiled. It was a great use of an out of the way gardeners shed. It would do well with the stock she had.

"Vyl. Vyl..." Kahlan called at the Vuri man's back. "Come now, we have to deliver the armor to your son. Don't dawdle, and for heaven's sake don't touch anything. You couldn't tell Belladonna from Lemon Balm to save your life." Kahlan said as she stepped down out of the apothecary.

Kahlan was the kind of woman that Kingdoms had gone to war with and over. She had seen countless monarchies rise and fall. She was the stuff of legends, and the sun seemed just a shade brighter at her presence.

Kahlan's hair was pulled back away from her face in a braid, though whisps of the fiery gold mane broke free and brushed against her face. Her sea blue eyes were raptor sharp as she took in the reclining form of her daughter, leaning against the apothecary building. A smile lit her face, a gesture very similar to that of her daughter, and Kahlan sat next to her, near the dragon dove.

"I see you've been making friends of dragons in my absence." Kahlan murmured with a smile.

"You know this dragon?" Igraine asked as she peered over at her mother.

"I believe this is a Royal Fey Dragon Rider's dragon companion. Am I right?" Kahlan glanced at Rayne and smiled, dipping her head. Kahlan was almost as old as Rayne herself and they had probably spoken before because she was with the Fae Queen quite often. "It's a pleasure to see." Kahlan dipped her head to show her happiness at the dragon's presence.

"I have Thorin's armor if he is here." Kahlan said, with a smile, too focused on the dragon to feel that Thorin was nowhere about.

"He has left me, Mother. He renounced his position as my personal guard and he wished the baby dead." Igraine, to her credit, remained tearless. Kahlan noted the dry eyes and clasped hands with her daughter, squeezing her hand gently. "I don't think he will return, and if he does I wouldn't mourn his leaving again. In fact, I wouldn't mourn his death either."

Kahlan could feel the simmering anger in her daughter, buried beneath the surface, and she sincerely hoped that Thorin didn't think he was getting an easy road back into her heart. He had broken her one too many times.

"What would you like to do with the armor we have? It isn't molded for his body specifically but it is male armor. The sword...?" Kahlan asked, referring to the sword that had been given to Thorin as a wedding gift.

"The sword is in the hallway outside my rooms. No one can pick it up so there is no reason to fear it being stolen. I'll pick it up on my way back to my rooms later. Thorin wouldn't even be able to pick the damn thing up with the way he's treated me." Igraine took a deep breath and sighed. "I apologize Rayne, you didn't need to be burdened with such ill talk."

"Vylrath, get out here. Your son was an idiot. He's left Igraine and wished your grandchild dead." Kahlan called out to Vyl with a soft growl in her voice. Thorin had made powerful enemies without thinking. Then again, he rarely thought, that was half the problem.

"Wait...Father's alive...?" Igraine said, stunned for a moment.

"Why, yes darling. I've spent the better part of a week making him whole again. This should irritate a few people, and keep Thorin at bay -- wouldn't you think?" Kahlan said, a twinkle of amusement in her bright sea blue eyes.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath emerged, but he was not with good humor. The guards would immediately feel his presence- one that was not to be reckoned with. His mood turned dangerously foul, when he learned of Igraine's plight with Thorin. Thorin had always been a bastard son, but he would never have imagined Igraine to be treated this way. She was pregnant, which was an odd realization for him. He might be a grandfather now, but he didn't look the age of one. Vylrath appeared in his thirties, as if time decided to be kind to him.

Kahlan wouldn't be moved by his anger, but Igraine might feel the turbulent emotions residing in him. He only nodded toward Igraine, not yet wanting to embrace her. His essence wouldn't be one to welcome, his silence much more frightening than words, or action.

He had been dead for far too long. His passing might have caused the upset of his family, or perhaps this would have happened either way. Xanathi women seemed to be destined for heartache, or hardship. Maybe her mother could console her, but he wouldn't be of any use in that department. Right now, he wanted a blade to slice Thorin's throat.

When Kahlan spoke of the armor, his calculating mind made a demanding notion. “The armor will be mine. The bastard doesn't deserve Igraine, let alone some priceless armor fit for a King.” Vylrath wouldn't take no for an answer, but maybe Kahlan had already felt that response building.

He noted the change in atmosphere when he arrived. There were other powerful entities here, some who still needed an introduction. Thankfully, Thorin wasn't lurking, or he would have attacked him infront of Kahlan and Igraine without hesitation.

“I'll put up one of my wards. Thorin won't be able to step foot, without being detected.” Vylrath said, knowing he'd have to spill his blood, around the castle, in order for it to take affect. Whatever the cost was, it was a fine contract with him. He couldn't stand to see Igraine in distress- she had always been his weakness. Kahlan might figure out his mood before anyone else.

If Thorin was smart, he would not attempt to reconnect with Igraine. He wouldn't hesitate to kill him. His aura continued to darken around his form, cocooning any other emotion he might have underneath the layers.

[Herald_of_Fate]

The Grand Tide Mage silently followed the party, falling into place behind and slightly to the left of Igraine, keeping a distinct distance between himself and the highly-glamoured 'bird'. His hood was drawn over his grimacing countenance, his concentration flitting between the here and now and the current of choices he saw available for them all. It had been said of the Merrow that they seemed to see the future. While not entirely true, they were party to a particular insight that came with long lives and near-endless observation and study. By taking into account the natures and motives of the beings' most directly involved, it was possible to make fairly accurate predictions about the course of events. Slyail found himself agitated. A great many factors had been introduced, taken away, changed subtly. Only a few things seemed certain:

1. There were vulnerabilities that Thorin's absence would create and far more should he return. The Unseelie could take his defaction as a sign of weakness and chose this time to strike.


2. The Queen would be in need of a personal guardian as well as a being capable of marshalling her forces should her enemies choose to attack.



Though it may not have been his place to, Slyail felt it his duty to address these issues and, if neccessary, force the Queen to. The entire future of the Seelie royalty rested with her.

"Your majesty, with all due respect, the matters I wish to discuss with you cannot wait. Our enemies are still out there," he said calmly, his voice ringing with authority. "We need a leader, someone with both the wisdom and power to command what armies you will soon require. On my foray through Ulster's waters, I found a very disturding trend. People have been vanishing by the hundreds from riverside and coastal villages, apparently led away by a mysterious voice. It smells of the Unseelie, though no evidence can be found. They have, however, been watching. I dealt with all signs of their surveillance I found but I'd bet a mermaid's purse they are aware of Thorin's absence and my presence. They will come, perceiving his being gone as a drop in our overall strength. However, if we can capture one of their agents, perhaps we can get some indication as to their purpose."

He paused, eyeing the imposing figure of Vylrath, the elegant Kahlan. The Queen surrounded herself with some very volitile people. Whether that was wise or not, he preferred to have them as allies rather than enemies. Still they needed some organization or they could be caught unawares.

It was then that Alleste strode in behind them all, chittering in near-panic.

------ Meanwhile elsewhere in Ulster------

She moved with a stately, sublime grace, like moonlight across still water, the jet black cloak enveloping her making it seem as though she were being embraced by the night itself. Silent, she strode through the marshlands on the estates' northernmost border, her spell-wrought voice floating in the air, an aria no mere human could hope to match. It was exquiste, almost frighteningly beautiful. But it was a wordless song of Death.




The slow shuffling that followed her was deliberate, slow, and rhythmic. As she broke from the treeline, she stopped, turned to her audience. Onward they stumbled, drunk with desire, seeking only to fulfill the will of their mistress. They were the people Slyail had noticed missing, drawn by Helena's dark voice, armed with whatever implements they had happened across in their long march here.



"Kill any you come across or make them bend to my song...leave the Queen to me..." she whispered softly, giggling with malicious intent.


They shuffled on, eager to bring theier mistress her quarry.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath smirked at Slyail, almost wanting to motion toward Kahlan. He was about to turn away from the group, when he heard Slyail speak up. “I will guard my daughter- she is my blood and I can provide the essence of Vuri. She will also have her mother with her.” Vylrath said, almost waving Kahlan off as another maid.

Vylrath watched the strange mannerism of Slyail. It was too uptight and haughty. Whatever the creature was, he was a strange one and immediately made his skin crawl. Vylrath hadn't been in Ulster in years, so the realm was very new to him still- that didn't mean the old Vuri couldn't get a footing. Listening to Slyail offer his protection to his daughter, he smirked with amusement. “My son might have had patience for you, but I don't. You can be her escort, but you will not be her shield.” Vylrath guessed, based on how Slyail spoke of Thorin's absence. He didn't have a resentment in his tone.

He continued to listen to the creature talk about politics- a topic that always bored Vylrath. It was natural that he would be behind the sword, instead of negotiations. He had always left that up to Isabella. Maybe it was because of his history with Xexoria and his struggle there, but he felt as if Slyail, was trying to force his authority on Igraine.

Feeling informal with his daughter, he only saw her as the little girl he had left behind. She might be regal in spirit and form, but he would treat her as an equal. The creature mentioned something about a mermaids purse, and some other nonsense. Vylrath only knew that he needed to perform the ward, if they would have a chance in Hell of surviving an attack.

He looked toward Kahlan, feeling her impatience with this man as well. Vylrath could hardly blame her, so he simply shrugged. “I can do without armor, considering I can heal myself...but I will need a blade.” He explained, simply slicing his wrist with the edge of a fingernail. Slyail might find his strength odd, even admirable, until he realized the curse behind it.

“Sorry if your pet is sensitive to blood, but it's part of the ritual.” Walking toward the edges of the castle, he began to spill the blood in a methodical way. The blood would be foul to someone like Slyail and any other being that wasn't Vuri. The blood took on an unnatural shade, while he spoke the incantations for inciting the ward into life.

Within moments, the castle walls would be blanketed, with a powerful ward to warn them of intruders. His cut would begin to heal, the skin slowly forming over the bloodied slash. There might be a faint scar, but it would only add to the many scattered across his body.

He turned to where Igraine stood, returning to the group once more. "I wish our meeting could have been under better circumstances. I can only offer you my strength. If Thorin tries to break through the ward, or any others, I will know."

[Herald_of_Fate]

Slyail raised a brow at the Vuri, noting the strange tone that seemed to mark their presence. It seemed to vary in pitch between individuals, a subtle marker that he supposed could be a mark of age or control. Vylrath's remarks, haughty and arrogant, would draw only a slight peal of laughter of the Merrow. So this was the tyrant he'd heard so many old stories about. The Water Mage had seen his type before, people who believed in little more than their own feeble strength enough to force through any obstacle.

"Well, good sir, perhaps the Queen herself might have a say on who she would like as her Guardian," he intoned sharply. "Perhaps you haven't the mind to figure this out yet, but I pledged my loyalty to her, not you. You're only slightly more stable than Thorin himself and we've seen what he is capable of. I would not be here in her service if I did not believe her capable of deciding what is best in ruling. Know, Vuri, you speak to a king, the Reejerey of the Deep Kingdom and that in pledging myself, I have pledged my people as well. If she choses you to guard her, so be it. But...we've more pressing matters. A legion of spell-drunk citizens are advancing on the castle."

He turned on his heel, leading them to the pond just outside the apothecary, his Ouphe at his heels. Slyail knelt, dipping a hand into the water, his fingertips barely disturbing the surface. He whistled a short burst of seeming discordant sounds, watching as the mirror-like surface blurred and revealed the scene in silence. The bewitched masses were overrunning the border guard, some of which were caught up in the spell as they came and turning on their fellows.

"This is what Alleste was talking about...we need to do something about this. Those people are alive and spell-bound. Shall we just hack them down, Vylrath, or do we bring the power we have to bear and save them? I personally do not plan to sit here while we hash this out." Slyail said with a smirk. "I'm heading out. Then if any of you feels like taking the fight to the Unseelie, we can talk."

He strode out with a pat to the Queen's shoulder. All this time spent posturing and deliberating. It was obvious that their enemies were taking the initiative and pressing the attack. It was time for action. If they wished to sit around and worry about positions within this new court, that was fine. But in the meantime, he was going to take the fight right to the Unseelie. He hoped he was soon to be joined by at least some of the others, but at this point, he wasn't sure who would take up arms.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath was struck by the creatures words. This was HIS daughter. He would see to her care, even if she was the damned Queen in this realm. She was the most prized possession to Vylrath Xanathi and he wasn't about to let some stranger tell him otherwise.

“I am hardly like my son. I would never harm Igraine- unlike him, I cherish her. I was once ruler and King of Xexoria- a land I'm sure you haven't heard of, given your higher-than-thou attitude.” Vylrath paused, watching the stranger turn to the pond. This war was not his- even if his daughter invited him to join in battle, Vylrath would not fight by his side. He didn't need to be talked down to, as if he didn't know his own daughter.

“Save them? They are not my concern to save. I will slay them, cut them with my own blade- each and every one....then I will find the source. I am not a weak man on the battlefield. How many battles have you even endured? I may look young, but don't let that fool you.” Vylrath shook his head, not intimidated his prestigious title. He had once been King and knew the burden it could be on a man.

“I had to fight for my survival from day one. You know nothing of me or my family, or of Queen Igraine. She is but an infatuation with you.” He listened to the man explain about the approaching battle. He could give a damn if the people were spell bound. Vylrath was once a demon, now a Vuri- the creator of Vuri in fact. It would take a lot for him to care about the people trapped in their own bodies.

“Since you want to be Igraines protector, show me what you can do for my daughter.” Vylrath said, holding his ground in a stubborn notion. If the man wanted to be something for Igraine, then he would have to prove himself to a veteran warrior of Xexoria. His eyes flashed, his nerves finally spent. Kahlan would feel his agitation, knowing very well that he had never been a patient man.

Vylrath began to wonder how his daughter saw him. He had never expressed his parenting skills before. However, he wasn't about to let some bastard King, uproot his family and destroy the daughter who captured his heart. He hadn't lived through the Yuurei invasion, and countless battles, to let something like a wayward King take it all away again.

Vylrath said his challenge, before the man walked away from them. It had been awhile since someone had gotten under his skin. If the man wanted to prove his worth, he wasn't about to stop him.

“The ward will hold them off while we prepare. Do not act as if I am ignorant to your world of magic.” Vylrath said, knowing that his his own history ran deep- almost as deep as Kahlan's. She wouldn't necessarily know all about him, only what he had become around her.

They needed to plot this out, before they simply headed off to pay a visit to the Unseelie King. “You wanted to protect my daughter, yet you readily put yourself in danger, before planning an attack. How will you ever be a good King, if you do not think first?”

Vylrath wanted to hit a nerve. Maybe, somewhere in that strange skull, this man had pride. He was tempted to taunt him again, but decided to see if he would even respond to his first challenge. If the man really cared for his daughter, he would consider discussing actions with her first. She was pregnant with child and couldn't simply venture off.

"Do not simply think she will follow you...show her how you can be better than my son."

[Herald_of_Fate]

A moment passed as Slyail stopped, listening to Vylrath's tirade, the almost eerie calm that he emanated disturbed as a stormcloud disturbs a still horizon. The man's arrogance was grating. The Water Mage turned on his heel and, moving with a speed far beyond what mortals could manage, much less hope to witness, covered the distance between the tyrant and himself, his colorless eyes igniting with azure blue fire.

"You would do well to remember that this is not your kingdom, Vylrath. So you've fought many battles as have I. Do you honestly believe slaughtering your daughter's subjects will endear her to them?" He exclaimed, his face inches from Vylrath's own, his indignation making his voice echo like thunder. "You may have created the Vuri, fathered the Queen...but what have you done before now to ensure her well-being? Or how about Thorin who knows so little of the true nature of his power he abhors himself for wielding them?! With creatures like yourself running about, she's in as much danger with you as with the enemy."

It was unlike Slyail to be so explosive, so visibly angry, but this pompous fool needed to focus. Trying to goad a loyal ally into a fight was counter-productive, especially when the Unseelie were literally at the gates. In truth, the Queen herself was far too indisposed to deal with the threats, so it was up to those that pledged to defend her.


"If you mean to aid her, then perhaps you should learn to respect those whose wishes for her coincide with your own. If you are gifted with a blade, then use it to cut down her enemies, to hold it to the throats of those who can tell you where they are to be found. Or seeking out your son, who may also be in danger. The Unseelie King would like nothing more than to have the father of the heir to the Seelie crown as a hostage, a bargaining chip that the Queen would be willing to negoitate over. But enough..."

Slyail whirled away from Vylrath, calming himself with a few deep breaths. He looked to Igraine.

"I pledged myself to your service. So I ask, what is your command?"

At this point, Vylrath hardly warranted another thought. If he could not show himself to be a man of intellect, then to Slyail, he was of no further use, him or his foul smelling magic. Fighting him would be a waste of time and further discussion was without reason or merit. Only Igraine's response would slow his chosen course.

[Igraine]

Igraine was startled by the confrontation between Vylrath and Slyail. Squeezing her mother's hand she got up and walked to where Slyail stood, her very demeanor calming in the eye of the storm the pair had created.

"My friend, you did not tell me you were the King." Igraine reached out and took one of Slyail's hands between her own and looked into his eyes. She wasn't afraid of him or his anger, it wasn't directed at her anyway. "My father is right, I would take to the battle myself if it weren't for my current condition. Do you know who is behind this?"

Igraine positioned herself between Slyail and Vylrath. Her eyes focused on Slyail, but she was sympathetic to her father. He only wanted to protect her and his granddaughter -- and he wasn't exactly used to being a proactive parent.

"You said they are spell-drunk? Can you tell who is behind the spell? I can feel the mortals advancing and some of my own men falling in with them -- which they wouldn't do unless it was a spell. I can't read the spell maker, though, it is as if they have cloaked themselves against me personally." Igraine frowned, her eyes unfocused as if seeing something that no one else could.

"I cannot ask you to go into battle on my behalf. I would not put a King in danger for my sake. I accept your loyalty and fidelity but I cannot ask you to put your life on the line, especially when I don't know what is causing the chaos."

Kahlan rested a hand on her daughter's shoulder and looked at the Water Mage. She inclined her head at the man and extended her hand to him.

"I do not believe we have been properly introduced. I am the retired High Queen of Ulster, Kahlan Lothair. I understand you are the King of the Merrow-folk? Impressive, I am happy that you have come to my daughter." Kahlan whispered in Igraine's ear something soft and low, which the young woman nodded to and excused herself from Slyail's presence to go to Vylrath behind them. He was brooding, as all Xanathi men were capable of doing, and the only thing that would calm him was Igraine.

"I apologize for my daughter's father." Kahlan didn't refer to Vylrath as husband, lover, or anything in particular. She felt that she should speak plainly with this Water Mage King. Her eyes, the color of the sea, were quieting and powerful. "We must find the source of the problem. Vylrath will not hesitate to cut down anyone that comes close to Igraine. It's a misplaced sense of pride and honor, I think, something of paying back his past sins I think." Kahlan shook her head and smiled.

"I admire your tenacity. You have the pride of the Merrow and they have a wise King. I will go with you once we find out what is going on. My power and my ability to fight might bring something of a shock to our Unseelie enemy. I was the one that locked the Unseelie King and his bretheren in their...cage." Kahlan made a small gesture at the word "cage" and shrugged her shoulders. This Unseelie King was something of a problem on more than one level. The power rolling off of Kahlan in waves was something that Slyail might recognize, and being as intelligent as he was he would probably know Kahlan Lothair from legend. She was the Angel that was saved from Hell and worked on the Human and Seelie planes.

Until recently no one knew where she'd gone to -- though now Slyail would know. She had been retiring for a while in the Seelie Realm with the current Queen.

"Slyail, is it?" Kahlan leaned closer to him to speak so only he might hear. "Igraine doesn't know she's the successor to the Seelie Throne. Queen Mab is grooming her for the task as she once groomed me." The woman smiled an almost angelic smile as she pulled back. There was a history with the Lothair clan, though Kahlan had been a wrench thrown into that system.

"Let's figure the source of this problem out, and then we'll go to meet it...if it is safe for you to do so."

Igraine rested a hand on her father's chest and looked up at him.

"Father, please. Don't fight with my allies. It only creates more trouble and with trouble already at the gates I can't afford to have my inner circle in turmoil." Igraine rested her head against his chest, hearing his heart thunder against his ribcage. He felt so good, so whole, that she was happy to have him near. He would die trying to keep her safe, even if he meant well and tore everyone else apart around her.

"I don't want you hurting the spell besotted people if you can help it. I want you to stay here, with me, and only if they make it this far and intend to do me harm or harm to any of my allies -- only then can you do whatever it takes to save my allies and myself. If they're spell ridden they can be brought out of it. I just don't know what we're up against." Igraine relaxed against her father and tried to calm him down with her presence. Vylrath might even feel the feeble presence of his granddaughter reaching out to him for protection. It would taste like lavender and roses, the scent that the small growing presence would leave in the air.

She would be a powerful creature when she was born, and a loving one considering her mother.

[Herald_of_Fate]

Slyail took a deep breath, taking in all of the new information. There was quite a bit of lore in the name Lothair, much of it studied and chronicled by the Merrow. Being scholars, it was natural for them to consider themselves the keepers of Utopia's histories. And Kahlan's name figured prominently in many of the old legends. Concerned as he'd been with other matters, he'd remembered the connection but hadn't questioned Igraine over it. She was the heir of two very powerful empires and enough of her heritage had been laid bare before the world. He let his natural calm wash over him, recalling all he'd been able to gather, letting his acute senses fill his consciousness. Merrow were beings of fluid, seemingly effortless motion but Slyail had become nearly a statue, only the slow rising and falling of his chest giving clue that he still lived.

"Alleste mentioned a voice...anathema to the creatures of the wilds, but hypnotic to nearly all others." He whispered softly, his eyes unseeing. "The source remains hidden and hasn't approached with the citizens. Most certainly female. We may need to take some precaution. We ourselves could very well be taken in by such a spell."

He shook his head as if trying to clear it. The song's spell had begun to cloud his mind, drawing him with the promise of every secret desire he held as a mage and a king. Even from such a distance, it took phenominal amounts of focus to break free.

"This is a bigger issue than I'd have thought. The voice is powerful, full of intrigue and illusion. The citizens themselves must be freed of it, but any within range of it are in danger of falling victim to it. I've an idea but it will require all of us. Vylrath, how strong can you make this barrier of yours? Is it capable of holding back, say, the full fury of a tidal wave? If I can craft one, I may be able to awaken the citizens and stop the fighting. However, someone will have to capture the source, who remains hidden in the woodlands to the west. I would wait till after the water recedes to go hunting."

He spoke to Igraine again, softly and soothingly.

"While the agent is unknown, the true culprit is clear. Who outside of the Unseelie would have reason to blatantly attack your holdings? I do not doubt your bravery but you live not only for yourself but for the child growing within you, our future monarch. If your father wishes to stand as your guardian, then I'll not object any longer. The danger I place myself in is for the good of my people. We will not stand by idly as darkness descends upon our fellow Fae, especially one who brought darkness to our doorstep. Will we stand together in this?"

He looked to Vylrath, meeting his brooding eyes. His concern for Igraine was touching, despite his crass manner. He trusted the man to defend his child and grandchild, but beyond that, what were his motives? Redemption? Not that it mattered to Slyail. He had preparations to make.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath raised a hand to his face, gathering his thoughts for a moment. Slyail's monotone, spoke in riddles with each sentence. Why couldn't the guy just be direct? When he questioned him about the ward, Vylrath knew that it could be strengthened. “It means I'd have to spill my own blood – a lot of it.” When Igraine was near him, he could feel her and the baby. It wasn't an enjoyable process, but he knew she had her reasons for it. Everyone around her seemed to treat her as a helpless being, but he knew that she had the strength of her mother- she wasn't some idiot.

“You'll stay here with your mother, while I handle this.” He turned toward Slyail. “Kid, I've fought a dozen wars and fought against some freaky aliens, guarded a Queen who was used as a pawn, and bargained with a Goddess. I think this'll be the easiest on my list.” Vylrath said, forgetting to mention how he had been brought to Xexoria as a slave. The way he spoke, might give Slyail a clue as to why his demeanor was the way it was. On another note, he hoped that Slyail wouldn't be insulted by his use of “kid”. Slyail and Igraine were younger than he and Kahlan by many years- he felt it appropriate at the time.

Looking toward Kahlan, he mentioned needing a weapon. “I'll need one of your swords, if I'm going to cut deep enough for this. A simple scratch won't do it this time.”

He knew that they were on borrowed time. He was thankful for having been in so many wars, at least he could prep himself for this one. Vylrath might be a little rusty with the blade, but he was sure he could pick up on it again. His son would get a rude awakening, if he tried to step foot near here.

When Slyail asked if they would stand together, he smiled, mostly amused by the man's demeanor and body language. "Do we have a choice? You don't have to be so formal about war...a war is hardly formal or forgiving."

[Igraine]

Kahlan cursed lightly under her breath and looked sharply at Slyail. Her eyes narrowed as she looked away from him and she muttered something under her breath again while she paced. She looked like a tigress stalking back and forth with a purpose.

"Does the female sing?" Kahlan stopped short in front of Slyail and looked at him with her piercing sea blue eyes. "The only woman that I can think of with such powers must sing. Did Alleste mention a tune? A song? Any sort of melody? It doesn't have to sound beautiful to her, it would sound beautiful to anyone ensnared in it though." If this...creature was what Kahlan thought it was -- they were going to be screwed until they could work up the necessary amulets.

"A tidal wave?" That might create enough discord to break the Siren's hold on all of the citizens. Leave it to a Merrow-folk to understand vibrations.

Kahlan unsheathed one of her swords and handed it to Vylrath without questioning his motives. They were functional and not ornate as many Queen's were known to aquire over the years. These were finely wrought and well kept, and they were incredibly sharp.

"Slice from your wrist to your elbow. You'll get more surface area and have to squeeze less. I'll help bleed you if you need me to." Kahlan winked roguishly at her newly revived would-be lover.

"Father, you can't be serious? You are only just brought back from the spirit world. You can't bleed yourself for this. What if we get into trouble?" Igraine took Vylrath by his wrists and shook her head, distraught for the moment at the idea of Vylrath spilling an unknown amount of blood for her safety.

"Igraine..." Kahlan took her daughter by the waist, her arm wrapped around her, and guided her to the apothecary hut. "Everything will be fine. I want you to slip into the Faerie if anything goes wrong. They can't get you there." When Igraine made to protest Kahlan pressed a finger to her lips. "Hush, my sweet daughter. Don't argue. You're what they want, and they will stop at nothing to get you. The only place they can't get to right now is the Faerie Realm. If anything goes wrong, if your father's barrier falters...don't worry about us. We're, all three of us, too old to really be damaged terribly by a tidal wave. Although, the way your father has been acting, he might be lucky if Slyail looks for him if the tidal wave sweeps him away." Kahlan laughed, amused by the thought of Vylrath having to tread water.

"Mother..." Igraine pulled her into a hug, smelling the sweet smell of roses that always followed her. "Please be careful."

"My child, I take care in everything that I do. Do not worry so my love, you're going to get old before your time." Kahlan kissed her daughter's brow and motioned for her to stand back from the doorway of the hut. "If anything goes wrong we'll all make for the hut. If anything, anything at all that shouldn't be here, shows up in this hut you get to the Faerie Realm. Understand? I don't even care if it's Thorin that shows up. He doesn't belong here, in this hut, right now. You don't know if they have gotten to him or not. You run, even if it's Thorin. You have Morgana to think of now."

"The dragon. Mother, Rayne has to meet back up with Master Drasco. They may be able to help!" Igraine said, startled for a moment to have forgotten the dragon in her haste.

"Rayne is as old as I am. She will not be bothered by this creature that we're facing, and she very well may be able to help. Now stay here and protect my granddaughter at all costs." Kahlan kissed Igraine's brow one more time before turning back to where Vylrath and Slyail were a few yards off. They would be able to see Igraine standing back from the doorway in her apothecary hut.

"Igraine has been told to escape to the Faerie if anything goes wrong. Let's do what we must, and pray to whatever god you're interested in right now, that this creature isn't a Siren." Kahlan pulled her other sword free from it's scabbard and let it hang loosely by her side. She was ready for anything, even if it took her power to help hold the barrier that Vylrath was intending to strengthen.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath smirked, knowing that this was beginning to feel like old times in Xexoria. “You'd love that, wouldn't you Kahlan? I'm sure Isabella would help....along with countless other women.” Vylrath had always had some woman by his side. Kahlan had been the only one strong enough to calm him. When Igraine grabbed his wrist, she would notice the scar from earlier. He knew that this was all probably very new to her, not knowing how much she had been exposed to in regards to wars.

He listened to Kahlan give their daughter advice, knowing it was best for her in the Fae realm. That place had practically given him his sanity back. It would be the best option for her, if things turned ugly.

Trying to reassure her, he removed her hand from his wrist. “I guess you haven't seen your old man in form. I'll be fine. You'll have to get used to blood shed and hardships for awhile. I was once a slave, be thankful you have people looking out for you.” Vylrath finished his words, by slicing from his wrist to his elbow- as instructed by Kahlan. “You have a lot of powerful allies, something I didn't have. You should probably use them.”

Vylrath walked away from her, wondering if he would make it out of this one. He let the trail of blood smear against the walls with his bloodied palm. It wouldn't be a thing for someone sensitive to witness, he was making sure he didn't miss a single corner.

When he was finished, he collapsed after binding the ward. His energy was pretty much gone and his strength almost vanishing completely. He hoped they had a plan, considering he used everything to guard this place.

Kahlan would find him, but he wondered what more he could do. The castle would be lit with a strange hue, something that only magic users would be able to witness. It would give a foreboding warning, as if Hell itself were present.