balance.
“You know, Dru, the trap was never meant for you. I was certain that faceless whelp, Gerrod, would gain entrance somehow, as tenacious as he is. I thought it would be a delicious trick on him. He’s very much like you, you know. Were you ever intimate with the glorious Lady Alcia? It would certainly explain the differences between Gerrod and Reegan.”
Dru did not dignify her with a response.
She tilted her head to one side. “No denial? No agreement? No thought at all?”
“Give me those crystals, Melenea.” He kept his voice neutral. She would not play him like an emotional puppet.
“Certainly. Here.” Melenea turned her hand palm down.
Reflex betrayed him. Hoping he did not have to fight Nimth as well as the enchantress, Dru snared the crystals with a minor spell. The action lowered his guard. It was a minuscule opening, to be sure, but the sorceress knew him as few others did. When she struck, it was more subtle, more emotional. Where an attack on his body would have likely been repulsed with little effort and most of those against the mind turned with even less, her spell touched on the least-defended part of Dru Zeree.
His memories.
“Cordalene!” he whispered. Her name had been Cordalene. Though his conscious mind had forgotten his bride’s name, the subconscious could not. She had been, to his surprise, so very interested in the same things. What had begun as a casual joining no different from any other had become a drawn affair and then a sealing of bonds. Permanent mates were a scarce commodity among the Vraad, though there had been a few now and then. She was tall, slender, and with deep blue hair that tumbled to the ground, though dust never tarnished its beauty. They were both as other Vraad, still arrogant, still vindictive. Dru had beaten off two challenges by those interested in Cordalene. She had turned them down, but typically, neither had believed she meant what she said.
Cordalene stood before him, waiting for Dru to embrace her. He tried.
She collapsed into dust. Caught in the throes of the spell, he had summoned up a likeness of her, much the way Sharissa had called up the dancers.
Somewhere, Melenea was laughing at his stumbling, laughing at his futile attempt to recapture a cherished memory. Rage burned through the struggling sorcerer and his vision briefly cleared, revealing the mocking form of the enchantress. He tried to reach her.
Dru became lost in a second memory. Sharissa as an infant. The shock of discovering that their continued care for one another now extended toward the child. Most Vraad left the care of their offspring in the hands of their magical servants, golems and such. It might be that was why the hatred between young and old developed.
Sharissa cried and Dru took the infant in his arms. She dissipated into air. Another creation of the theater that his mind vaguely recalled existed in Nimth.
“This is so perfect!” Melenea purred from beyond his vision. “A wonderful place to end the game! I thought I would only be able to enjoy the torment on your face, but now I can watch you lose everything all over again!”
His hands almost found her throat. She backed quickly away, and before he could try again, the day of the duel confronted him.
“Serkadion Manee! No, please don’t!” He could not stop it. Cordalene met with some nameless female counterpart, a Vraad who was also dead, the loser in another duel only three days after this one.
The combat itself was a swift blur; Dru had not been there to witness it. Despite his struggles, the inevitable conclusion confronted him. What remained of Cordalene was a curled ball unrecognizable as anything human. She had been turned in on herself. Dru remembered how he had secluded himself and Sharissa for months before he went seeking out his wife’s killer. His need for vengeance was left unsated.
Then he had turned to Melenea.
“Melenea,” he muttered.
She had brought back the memories and made him suffer them anew. The fog, the images-both those in his mind and the ones he had created with his sorcery-were swept away until only one figure remained. One that did not realize its mortality.
“Melenea…” His eyes impaled her.
The enchantress finally realized that her victim was no longer trapped in his delusions, but it was too late. There was no longer any means of escape. With his first coherent thought, Dru had sealed this room for the time.
“Melenea,” he began for the third time. “You twisted me during a time when I was empty. You never knew me before Cordalene. You never really thought of how much of a Vraad I truly am, no matter how I might deny it now.”
Her smile had died. Dru felt her mind tug at forces of Nimth, trying to create a path of freedom.
“You should have never made me relive all of that so realistically. You’ve reminded me of the danger you’ll always be to Sharissa.” He shook his head in true sadness, wishing she had not released the Vraad within him. “I can’t allow that.”
Unable to escape, she struck with another spell. It was less stylish, but very deadly.
Dru deflected it easily, the cold anger that Melenea herself had created fueling his will. He understood, however, that delay would eventually take its toll on him. This had to be finished before that happened.
She struck again and again, her spells taking on all forms and intensities that would have long destroyed any other foe who did not know her so well. When she had exhausted herself to a certain point, he took her and left her without the ability to move or even breathe. She would not die; the spell prevented that. He only wanted her to know exactly how helpless she would be.
“You like games, Melenea? I do, but more subtle, more ingenious ones. Chess, for example. I have just the place for you, a place where you can join some of my past adversaries, some of those who threatened what was mine and discovered that I am not so peaceful when it comes to defending my home.”
He retrieved the chess piece again, tossing it to her as she stood frozen. At the last moment, he released her. Through sheer luck, the enchantress caught the object. She looked at it, not understanding, and then gazed once more at Dru, still defiant. She had always been able to play her way out of any circumstance. There had always been some weakness she had been able to exploit.
“Not this time,” Dru whispered to her. He indicated the piece she held. “You thought you recognized the other. How about this one?”
An arrogant smile playing on her lips, Melenea held it up and stared at the tiny, detailed visage. Her eyes widened and the smile became a circle as she gasped. The chessman fell from her hand and bounced on the floor.
“You do recognize him? Some of them I allow to have the same form, though others often get a shape more representative of their personalities. They’ll live on long after I’m gone, always pawns where they were once players, much like yourself.”
“Dru… you…” She was no longer desirable. Melenea had become a frightened creature.
He felt Sirvak’s nearing presence. Xiri was with the familiar. Sirvak tried to make contact with him, but Dru refused. Not until he had finished.
“I should think this would thrill you, Melenea, my sweet. Haven’t you always insisted that life is a game?”
Xiri could not be allowed to see him like this. Dru gestured quickly and the chess set re-formed on the glass table, the pieces all lined up in their starting positions. For the first time, it became obvious that the game was lacking one more figure. Dru smiled at that. He had not known he had been so close to completing the set.
Only a moment more. That was all he needed. A moment more of complete control of his powers. He faced Melenea, lover and nemesis, and pointed at the empty square.
“Your choice,” he said slowly, drawing out her agony as she had drawn out his moments before. “What would you like to be?”
When Sirvak and Xiri joined him, he had just finished admiring the board and was now putting it away. The chess set was one of the few things he had decided to bring with him to the other world. It would serve better than anything else to remind him of what he was leaving behind.
“Dru!” The elf held him tight, her body shaking. He stood frozen for the first few seconds, then clutched her
