you speak the truth, doppelganger.'
'How charming,' Eidola hissed. As Miltiades advanced on her, she suddenly pressed her fist into her midsection, just beneath her heart. Eyes dripping venom, she reached inside her own torso and removed a single white gemstone, holding it clenched in her hand. 'Enough of this. Do any of you recognize what I hold in my hand?'
'A soul gem,' Aleena gasped. 'I thought as much!'
'Good,' sneered Eidola. 'Then you know that if I shatter it, that portion of your father's soul that I've trapped within is destroyed forever. Take another step, Miltiades, and I smash this thing. You'll bring me in to face your justice, but Piergeiron Paladinson will be condemned beyond any hope of resurrection. Do you understand me?'
'I understand,' Miltiades answered gravely. The muscles of his jaw quivered with anger, but the noble paladin halted, watching the doppelganger. 'Damn you, I understand.'
'You will retreat down the hall and back up the stair you came down. Should I detect any sign that you are attempting to follow me again, I shall destroy the gem at once,' Eidola said, smirking. 'You've been an admirable foe, Miltiades, but I tire of this game.' Holding the gem aloft, she advanced confidently, daring the paladin to interfere.
'Do not make the mistake of believing that I will allow you to leave, Eidola,' Miltiades said evenly. He stood his ground, refusing to yield. 'Damage that stone, and you will be dead before all the pieces hit the floor.'
'I think not,' Eidola snapped. 'There's room for thousands of souls in this prison, paladin. Maybe it's time you became one of them!' She raised the soul gem high and started to shout an invocation or command, pointing at Miltiades with her free hand. The diamond began to glow with a pure white light. The paladin stood transfixed, gaping in horrified fascination at the approach of his doom.
Quick as thought, Belgin flipped a knife from his sleeve and threw it underhanded. The silver blade turned once before striking Eidola in her midriff. It was a small wound to the doppelganger, nothing more than a pinprick, but Eidola recoiled and gasped in pain, losing her spell. 'No!' she shrieked.
In her hand, the soul gem blazed silently to an unbearable splendor. In one brilliant flash of supernal radiance, it seared the vision from Belgin's eyes and set him to blinking furiously. In his ears, Eidola's shriek of rage grew great and dark as a storm, surrounding him in spite and anger-and then it was gone.
When he could see again, Eidola stood still as a stone, her face frozen in a cold and fierce rage. She still held the soul gem clenched in her fist, but all color had been bleached from her body, leaving her white and pure as marble. Between her alabaster fingers, the diamond glittered coldly.
'Aleena? What happened?' whispered Miltiades.
Shaken, the Waterdhavian mage approached and peered into Eidola's contorted features. 'I believe she trapped herself inside the gem,' she said slowly. 'I–I have seen this before. It's a devious device, and it can strike any who stand near when its power is invoked.'
'Is she dead?' asked Rings.
'If only it were that simple,' Aleena replied. Carefully, she reached out to open Eidola's hand and remove the stone, but the doppelganger's fingers refused to yield. 'The soul gem destroys, yes, but in some way it also preserves what it takes in its crystalline depths. Eidola is somewhere within.'
Miltiades bowed his head, wearied beyond human endurance. 'Then our quest is at an end.'
Postlude
Crystal and white surround me.
I am without form, without substance, a splinter in a sea of glass. I hear the others sometimes. They gibber and shriek; they moan and plead; a few seem to silently reflect and wait with a patience beyond my own. If I could find them, I would slay them for the peace they possess.
I've lost my others, my guises. They can't exist here, not in this realm of ultimate truth. How can a soul be something it is not? Here I am only the nameless mocker, the cold and vacant spirit that learned to walk in the shape of a man, an elf, a minotaur. My life was a mimicry, and without my others I have nothing left that is me.
There is one voice here I cannot bear. She's strong, and near to me, although I cannot see her. I want to kill her, to silence her reproach, but… I fear her. Here, she is greater than I could ever be. In this crucible of glass and light, I cannot exist. But she has endured here for time beyond measure. How long is a minute without a heartbeat to count it by? How long is a day without the sun? Yet she waits in this endless tedium, not content, and not afraid.
I can't bear the sound of her voice. She doesn't address me-no one here can know who or what they speak to. No one. It drives me to scream, to rage, to storm uselessly with all the fury at my command. In my darkness there is a scream that could shatter the world, if only I could give voice to it.
But she whispers of love.
