- The Archivist, your narrator

"Tempus edax rerum."

"What do you think you're playing at, Ithunn?" Syf inquired sharply. She had already experienced one severe frustration that day and was not in the mood for another. Now that Isobel had ordered her to discipline the recalcitrant novice for violating curfew, the paladin realised that it was not going to be a particularly pleasant day.

"I beg your forgiveness, Syf," Ithunn said, at least her tone was contrite and her eyes downcast as she scrutinised the stony floor of the armoury, "I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me. I deserve both my punishment and your reprimand."

"I have a suspicion that it was more than your curiosity." Syf replied, not unkindly. She loathed being put into this position; any other novice would have been fine - there would have been less emotional attachment, but with Ithunn, Syf could not help regretting any harsh words or actions she was forced to undertake.

"Forgive me, Syf, but she was so beautiful...it was dazzling and she treated me with such kindness..." Ithunn trailed off, unsure of what exactly to say. It had already been inordinately painful to confess this to, of all people, Syf. Elyszara had been magnificent, like something out of a dream, but the paladin would always be the centre of Ithunn's attention, her one and only transcendental obsession.

"Whether you choose to believe it or not, I think I know what you mean." The raven-haired paladin responded softly, almost with sympathy. All novices made mistakes, some, granted, more serious than others, but Ithunn was very young and wisdom could only come with experience.

"I swear that it will never happen again, believe me, Syf...and, that, whatever happened, you still remain first in my heart. I would do anything to make you believe me." The novice felt a tightening lump of emotion in the base of her throat, but she knew better than to make her feelings to evident. She was strong and had to be stronger still to show Syf that she was still the finest potential Consecrated paladin of her year.

"I already believe you, child." Syf replied with a wan smile. Perhaps it was unprofessional to use a term of endearment under the circumstances, but on that occasion, she decided that though it was universally true that an elder sister ought to punish her junior when the latter stepped out of line, the act, in itself, did not diminish the bond between them. Indeed, it ought to reinforce it.

"Syf, I am grateful that it is you who has to discipline me today." Ithunn whispered, her eyes still firmly planted on Syf's boots.

"Don't think I will hold back any more than Isobel, you are my beloved sister and, as a consequence, it is my duty to make sure you learn your lesson, now take your tunic off."

Ithunn complied, "I know you would never hold back just for any sympathies you may have. That is precisely why I admire you more than any other." She neatly folded her white novice's tunic on a workbench and leaned over an empty weapons rack, gripping the polished wood tightly under her fingers.

Syf could not help but take a moment to admire the rich beauty and grace of the novice's frame - the sensual, rounded breasts that reminded her so much of Friyya's, and, of course, the equally magnificent bottom now presented before her. There was a part of her that wanted to do anything but beat Ithunn, to bury her face between the tight crevasse of the novice's firm bottom and the sweet sex beneath rather than mar it with her cane. Duty was, however, duty. The paladin readied her reed cane - for she disapproved of the excessive brutality of Isobel's braided, leather variant - and landed a swift, powerful, blow on Ithunn's upturned buttocks. It was like swinging a sword and Syf carried out her task with comparable force, the sound of blow after blow echoing throughout the room as the skin on Ithunn's back, bottom and thighs began to redden, then bruise and finally bleed. Syf made sure that she drew blood, just to show Ithunn that what she did, she did with love for the greater good of her career as a paladin. To endure pain was the key to walking the Radiant Path.

For her part, Ithunn remained wordless throughout, she merely steeled herself and gripped the weapons rack tighter, cringing at each blow, but never betraying any sign of distress. With gritted teeth, she reminded herself not to let a single tear spill lest Syf take her for a weakling; only the sound of the cane cutting through the air and its ultimate, sharp impact on lean, muscular flesh could be heard. Crying for such stupid matters as a beating was something Ithunn would leave to Inge and her ilk; women already silently bore the greatest pains humans could conceive of, but she, like Syf, wanted to show herself to be stronger still.

With dedicated precision, Syf counted out forty blows, before relenting. Her handiwork had been swift and bloody, though it seemed a pity to watch a great, bloody purple bruise creep from the base of Ithunn's back to her lower thighs, ruining the effect of the unblemished, white skin.

"You may stand." Syf called and Ithunn complied immediately, turning to look back dispassionately at her idol.

"Will that be all, Syf?" She asked, the pain in her back and bottom agonising like she had rarely felt it, but bearable. It was if she were on fire and that fire had subsequently been quenched with acid, but the smile of satisfaction on Syf's face when she noted the novice's stoic composure after her punishment was more than enough to compensate for any physical discomfort.

"You are a strong girl, Ithunn, and you will make us all proud one day." Syf said as she lightly caressed the novice's cheek, "Now go to the infirmary and have a priestess heal you. I expect to see you later at practice and in top form, understood?"

"Yes, Syf." Ithunn said enthusiastically, temporarily forgetting her aches and pains.

"Tomorrow, Marséna and Virginia are taking some leave, so Friyya will be making dinner. Why don't you and Ingeborg join us in our quarters?" Syf imagined that it would be nice to have a little company, since prolonged exposure to Shesayne made her nervous, to say the least. As far as she was concerned, if Shesayne did not take Lily out that night, she would ask Friyya to bribe them to leave, just so she could avoid the awkwardness of dealing with a drow of dubious inclinations and a half-elf of dubious morals at the same time.

"With pleasure, Syf." Ithunn said, wincing as she felt the fabric of her tunic make contact with her inflamed, bleeding flesh. Aside from the wounds of her beating, what really troubled her on a higher level was the prospect of an extremely awkward meal with Friyya on one side and Inge on the other. Moreover, the novice felt some unease at the suggestion that Friyya may actually be allowed to handle food. Tales of her kitchen duty exploits when she had been a novice were legendary and had been passed down from year to year.

"Good girl, now hurry along." Syf ordered as Ithunn walked away with as much dignity as physically possible considering her bruised state. It occurred to Syf that Ithunn was very much like herself at a similar stage, but more innocent still and perhaps sweeter-natured. Even in her earlier days, Syf had enjoyed surrounding herself with an air of menace, but of controlled, incipient menace and not the in-your-face retribution Marséna doled out in the fencing yard to anyone who, in reality or only in her mind, had slighted her. Ithunn, however, had none of that ostentation and concentrated entirely on making herself as effective as servant of the Vigilant Maiden as possible.

There were times when Syf wished that Friyya were just a little more like Ithunn. Naturally, she appreciated her auburn-haired lover's sweetness, her quick mind and gentle charm, but there were moments when she also resented Friyya's weaknesses; her pettiness, her vanity, her incipient snobbery. Syf was not the only one to have issues. Having disciplined, Ithunn, Syf could not help but cast her mind back to when she had been subjected to a similar treatment along with Friyya, Virginia and Marséna for having similarly skipped curfew for an exploratory night on the town. Syf remembered that she had begged Isobel to punish her alone on the grounds that she had been the instigator of the escapade. Isobel had not bought the story for one second and, especially disgusted by Friyya's silence on the matter, decided to be especially hard on the latter. Despite prompt curative attention by a solicitous temple priestess, Friyya had whimpered almost hysterically throughout the day, clutched in Syf's arms and much to Marséna's visible disgust.

That was the only time Syf remembered being angry at Marséna. But only because it had been their fault that the group had been caught in the first place. That evening, their agreed cut-off point had long been exceeded as a lightly intoxicated Marséna struggled to undo the laces of a seductively voluptuous, green-haired half-elf's blouse while Virginia looked on with bemused tolerance. Syf, too, had been guilty of reliving her happy childhood experiences in the more animated and lively districts of Sigil's rougher quarters. She certainly found the time to exchange a few words with the boys who had always been her playmates and who now had branched off into petty crime, law enforcement, mercenary work or adventuring in equal measure. In time, the evening had ended when it was far too late to even muster a plausible excuse. Not least because by that time the light had begun to break and Syf recalled only an irritated, reptilian day-shift manager hissing that they should leave while Friyya slept peacefully, slumped over a table, and Virginia and Marséna argued loudly over the rights and wrongs of 'a little fun'.

Those, in retrospect, had been the days and Syf could consequently genuinely empathise with Ithunn. Sometimes, in her moments of darker reflection, the paladin could not help but ask herself, looking back to when she had been a novice, if the four of them would ever be friends in the same way again. Things had been simple then: Virg and Marséna, Friyya and Syf with nothing in the Multiverse to come between them. Even the little spats between Marséna and Friyya were more amusing than tragic and it had soon come to Syf's attention that Friyya was doubly spiteful and petty to any novice who started a rumour about Marséna which did not directly emanate from her in the first place. But immediately before and after their Consecration, things had just progressively become more complicated and more bedevilled by the vagaries of fate.

If there was but one thing Syf fervently wished for as she left the armoury, her mind still very much immersed in the remembrance of a past which seemed ever more distant, though it had objectively been so recent, it was this: that the Wheel of Creation spare them its cruellest tricks and that in some unnamed future they could always meet with the knowledge that the past had taken nothing away and given everything.

**********

Virginia felt like a new woman. Not just elated, but positively fulfilled in her mission - and ambition - to confirm herself as the brightest star in the Radiant Path's firmament of promising young paladins. Isobel had, as expected, summoned the four members of the squad to the main Temple immediately after breakfast where she had first gone over a highly positive performance evaluation, before, almost as an afterthought, declaring Virginia to be the official squad leader. Syf had taken the new with impeccable stoicism and warmly and sincerely congratulated Virginia. Friyya, whose main interest was leaving Isobel's presence as quickly as possible, had felt sorry for Syf, but trusted in Virginia's competence just as much - she never knew the long-standing and unspoken friendly rivalry between the two. Marséna had remained silent, but once they exited the Temple, Virginia suddenly found herself pushed against a wall, exchanging a guilty, if pleasurably passionate open mouthed kiss with the Mareterran girl.

"It's a shame," Marséna had said regretfully as she broke the kiss and gently stroked Virginia's cheek, "we would have spent the rest of the day in bed and done anything that popped into your head, no questions asked. Congratulations, ciara."

Virginia had only nodded silently as Marséna departed. That had been the only ambiguous moment that marred an otherwise flawless day. There was, she thought, not need to feel guilty, they would have had plenty of time to talk it over during their excursion to Mareterra. Despite the tensions associated with the trip, Virginia had genuinely been looking forward to it, first and foremost as a way to clarify and strengthen her relationship with Marséna. With that thought, Virginia strode triumphantly back into her quarters, ready to prepare herself for the day ahead and eager to tell Lily the good news.

Much to her surprise, the door to her room was slightly ajar - a dim, violet glow emanating from the darkness within: Lily still insisted on keeping the curtains shut whenever possible, prompting Friyya's unkind remark that the dark elf needed the spiders to gather there before she made herself truly at home. Edging closer, unsure of what exactly the drow had concocted this time, Virginia slipped the door open and quickly closed it behind her. Lily was lying seductively on the bed, the blouse which Virginia had loaned her and which she wore as her only item of clothing was half undone, her full breasts spilling out, violet nipples standing hard to attention. The whole chamber was flooded with the glow of the faerie fire the dark elf had strategically predisposed around the bed. Such magical lighting lent the white sheets of Virginia's bed and the plain wooden walls of the room an eerie, violet glow.

Lily herself lay back with her eyes half closed, her lips parted, legs held ever so slightly apart so that Virginia could just catch the slightest glimpse of the folds of her sex shimmering with moisture like some dark, midnight lotus under the moonlight. The aroma of the drow's arousal had already tinged the air with an odd, slightly spicy exotic scent. It was proof of Lily's wetness and the eagerness with which she would soon welcome Virginia's caress.

"My noble priestess returns." Lily said softly, spreading her thighs even more, the beds-sheets ruffled under the movement of the dark elf's sensual, feminine limbs, the blackness of her skin contrasting deliciously with the pure white of the cotton sheets.

"How...how did you know?" Virginia asked, as shocked as she was aroused. Before Lily could even begin her answer, the paladin was unbuttoning her tunic. Virginia had been suddenly seized with the compulsion to bury herself in the warmth of Lily's breasts, to seek the solace of her heartbeat and the softness of those perfectly formed, obsidian mounds.

"That rival of yours came in a few moments ago. Her face did not show it, but when your survival depends on it, you learn to read hidden emotions very quickly." Lily said, running her fingers through Virginia's soft, blonde hair, drawing the paladin's lips closer to the sensitive flesh of her breasts.

"Oh...Lily." Virginia sighed, for the dark elf was truly a sight to behold, her rich, silky silver hair spread over the pillow as if in the throes of passion, her delicate toes curled in burning desire against the bed sheets, twisting them with ever involuntary movement of her legs. The blonde paladin discarded her tunic and stepped out of her boots before kneeling between her lover's legs. Lily was sodden, so wet that a little patch of moisture had formed on the sheets beneath her juicing, violet sex. Virginia hiked the hem of the blouse up higher, the faintly exotic smell of Lily's arousal surrounding her as she lowered her head slowly to plant a reverent kiss on the drow's straining, taut abdomen. Inching lower, the blonde paladin ran her tongue hungrily down the slit, dripping in nectar, revelling in the intoxicating nuances of its oddly bittersweet taste - it was almost like eating a wild peach. Nevertheless, the drow's nectar was addictive: rich and copious and full of sensual promise. Lily shuddered at the first contact and, much to Virginia's surprise, began to convulse spasmodically the moment the paladin's eager tongue, searching in the darkness for the tiny bud of her lover's clitoris, finally found its target.

Lily gasped frantically, her eyes closed, her sex grinding against Virginia's face, the torrid essence of her arousal eagerly lapped up by Virginia as stray droplets fell onto the sheets.

"You're a little sensitive." Virginia said as Lily continue to offer her nether lips for further attention. The idea of power clearly aroused the drow to no end and Virginia was all too keen to indulge it by trailing long, lustful licks down the silky, violet nether lips of her lover's flower. Virginia had never quite experienced anything like it: the taste and sensation was addictive, like a forbidden fruit that only she had access to - to tease open and lap the juices whenever she desired.

"Always for my conquering priestess." Lily sighed, feeling herself overcome by the waves of her hard and fast climax, sensing only the delectable pressure of her lover's tongue and the hammering of heartbeat in her chest. Virginia had learned quickly how to pleasure her, the right timing, the right breathing and the right pressure with which to nudge the stiff bud of her clitoris into a sparkling sensual peak.

"Well, I can see that and so can the bed." Virginia teased, undoing the final two buttons of the dark elf's blouse and tossing it aside.

Wrapping her arms around Virginia neck and raising herself to a sitting position, Lily planted a burning kiss on her lover's lips, her tongue savage and relentless against the paladin's, revelling in her own taste combined with the familiar warmth of her lover's mouth, "Apologies, I will make amends immediately." She said, pushing Virginia back and crouching low against the sheets, her eyes raised seductively to meet the paladin's. Lily then began to run her tongue slowly and sensually across the wet patch she had created on the sheets, lapping up any residual moisture, all the while staring provocatively at Virginia.

"Hmm...a good start, but not good enough," Virginia said, sinking into the rhythm of the game, "there are so many other ways you can make it up to me. Lie down." She enjoyed taking control of lovemaking and even more so with Lily, who proved to be a wanton and eager follower to any commands she issued.

Lily did as she was ordered and quickly reclined on the pillows as Virginia positioned herself carefully with her sex, already visibly excited, just above the dark elf's mouth, her knees planted on each side of her lover's shoulders. Balancing herself with her arms against the wall, Virginia began to gyrate her hips just above Lily's face, her sex open, pink and inviting as the dark elf raised her head slightly to catch the outer folds with her tongue. A few stray drops of the blonde paladin's nectar trickled down to grace Lily's lips in tiny, fragrant droplets. The dark elf eagerly lapped them up and hungered for more.

"Good girl, now be nice and thorough." Virginia said playfully. She did not need to extend the invitation: Lily suddenly gripped Virginia's taut, athletic bottom between her hands, nails digging so deep that the paladin though they might draw blood as she was pulled against the dark elf's hungry mouth. Lily serviced Virginia as if she were possessed by some supernatural force, her tongue savage, invasive and devastatingly accurate as it caressed each little crevasse of the swollen, velvety nether lips. It was not so much exploration as domination, for Lily mastered every single nerve ending of the human girl's sex, moving in precise, devious patterns which only heightened Virginia's anticipation.

Virginia was almost immobile, the drow's grip was tight on her bottom, her tongue even more compelling as it began to focus malicious little licks on the human girl's clitoris. Sighing softly, working her hips in a circular rhythm to exploit the expert motions of Lily's tongue, Virginia shifted all her weight forward on the wall, concentrating on the mounting sensation of deep, visceral sparks each time she felt Lily lave the innermost lips of her sex before titillating her clitoris with agonising nonchalance.

It was only a matter of time before Virginia came, thrusting wantonly against Lily's mouth, her loins melting into a delicious sensation of satisfaction and her dark elf lover diligently finished her impeccable work with sharp little flicks of her tongue. Sighing in relief, as if her day could in no way improve, Virginia allowed herself to relax and fall back down on top of her lover, her lips hungry and searching as she kissed Lily, tasting the residue of their combined passion.

"Your coupling begins to befit your station." Lily said approvingly, biting her violet lip softly as she felt Virgnia's firm, curious hands explore the heavy globes of her breasts. The drow's nipples were sensitive in the cool air of the room and every instant of friction under her lover's fingers felt like an agonising extension to the knot of desire that still burned in her breast; so she made Virginia know just what a good job she was doing by raking her nails long and hard down the paladin's strong back.

"Lily!" Virginia gasped in surprise, as she took a sharp bite at one of the dark elf's nipples in retaliation.

"Good." Was all Lily could say, feeling the blood mounting in her temples as she clutched the paladin's bottom. Virginia continued to struggle against Lily, hungrily devouring the full obsidian globes of the beautiful drow's breasts, oblivious of the black index finger which slid between the athletic curve of her buttocks and pressed wickedly against the tight, puckered rosebud of her anus.

"You wanton girl." Virginia growled and gritted her teeth as she felt the digit penetrate her in one, sharp jerk, tugging the sphincter apart and sending the rosebud into full bloom. Lily was provoking her by going in dry.

"You are eager for it, though." Lily replied sarcastically, relishing the sensation of Virginia's nether portal contracting spasmodically around her finger.

That was the last straw for Virginia, she seized Lily by her mane of silky, silver-white hair and spun the drow around, eliciting a gasp of excited surprise. Now thrust belly down against the bed, all Lily could see was the white pillow illuminated by the lambent glow of the faerie fire. Virginia still gripped her by the hair. Lily did not even have to be told what to do, she simply raised her hips, thighs spread, and waited. The paladin's fingers followed: four thrust in hard and sharp, almost splashing into the drow's juicing, violet sex, and mercilessly fanning out into the inflamed tunnel while Virginia's thumb rammed almost brutally into Lily's nether portal, easily parting the sphincter and finding purchase in the moist warmth within. To the blonde paladin, the vision before her was sublime: her pale, white fingers spreading the innermost flesh of her obsidian-black drow lover open, her own taut, lithe body atop the delicious, soft yet dangerous femininity of Lily. Then there was the indescribable clinging sensation of Lily's sodden sex lips against her knuckles, the deep, tight, reassuring warmth of her rosebud around Virginia's thumb, and the sensual heat of the dark elf's bottom and thighs against her hand.

"Yes..." Lily hissed as Virginia began to thrust her fingers with a mercilessly tempo in and out of her sex, her thumb plunging deeper still into the drow's bottom to meet its four sisters against the thin membrane that separated them. Lily was clearly in ecstasy as let out long, ragged breaths against the pillow, Virginia's thrusts hard and merciless against her. With a sharp jerk on her hair, Virginia raised Lily up again, the dark elf's back arching in response.

"You brought this on yourself." Virginia said, her voice thick with passion as she ran her tongue down Lily's sensitive, delicately pointed ear. The pad of the paladin's index finger had found a particularly sensitive spot deep inside her dark elven lover and had began a hard thrusting pressure against it. Lily moaned with intense, almost sublime pleasure. She had rarely felt so spread, so satisfied and appeased by the increasingly reassuring desire she detected in Virginia. It was almost like being home again. Abandoning herself to the molten sensation in her loins and wetness on her ear so sublime she felt her shoulders shiver each time Virginia kissed her there, Lily felt her climax overtake her. Arching her back against Virginia, encouraging the deepest penetration possible, she thrust her hips back a few times, just to milk the last contractions of her ecstasy. Virginia felt as though she were gripping Lily from inside, capturing any remaining secrets her drow lover might have had and making them her own.

Virginia jerked her hand out of Lily's orifices and brought it before the dark elf's lips, the digits still glistening in moisture. Lily did not need further prompting and she diligently and hungrily licked each digit clean, with long, provocative licks, Virginia still clutching an improvised braid of her hair in her free hand. For a moment they knelt, almost immobile, on the bed, breathing heavily: Lily's firm, full breasts rising and falling erotically in rhythm with her breath. Then the dark elf lunged, catching Virginia unprepared and planting a searing kiss on the human girl's lips, Lily's hands desperate and needy as they clasped the paladin's sides, running up desperately to seek her compact yet elegant breasts. Not allowing herself to be outdone, Virginia seized Lily by the waist with the intention of pulling her down on the bed. The paladin, however, in the heat of her passion, miscalculated the force of her motion and the couple went tumbling onto the floor.

It was then that Lily deployed her secret weapon. She slid a hand between Virginia's thighs as the paladin pinned her down to the ground for another round of fierce, needy kisses, and cast an electricity cantrip, sending sparks of harmless magical energy flickering over her lover's sex. The effect was immediate, Virginia howled as she felt one of the most intense peaks of her life overtake her. Tiny motes of magical energy played across the lust-inflamed passion-pink flesh of her sex, sending such jolts of pleasure that the blonde paladin had never experienced in her life. The sensation of the crackling, tickling energy was overwhelming as it flooded every part of her sex, filling her with a radiant glow of pure bliss. She slumped forward, her sex still agonised by the sensory assault, but every other part of her relaxed as if floating in the Deep Ethereal Plane.

"Oh, Goddess...Lily, careful with that." Virginia groaned as she realised the imminent side effect of the dark elf's magical play. She rose and sped out of the room at full haste, leaving Lily lying back on the wooden floor, bemused, but very satisfied. Virginia may have dominated her in the bedchamber, as she had every right to, but it was Lily and Lily alone who was custodian to secrets which would always make her human lover desire her. As with all relationships, secrets had to be conceded inch by painstaking inch and never surrendered immediately. In due time, Virginia would know that there was infinitely more to drow lovemaking than she could ever have imagined and Lily would be there to initiate her into a world of superior sensuality.

Virginia returned a few moments later, a look of relief on her face now that the crisis was averted. Lily had caught her off guard and the most perverse parts of the paladin's had, in the heat of the moment, been inclined to punish the drow girl accordingly. That, however, would no doubt have been part of Lily's plan and, as adventurous as Virginia was, the full extent of Lily's erotic experience was still a little too much for her.

"Why did you leave?" Lily asked, a smirk on her face as she looked playfully - or, indeed, as playfully as drow can look - into Virginia's perplexed emerald eyes.

"Lily!"

"I would not have minded." The dark elf replied without a hint of irony.

"Please, I don't want to know." Virginia said with a sigh of resignation. There were no doubt dimensions to drow lovemaking she did not even want to consider.

"But did you enjoy my attentions?"

"Of course, Lily, of course, come here." Virginia invited as the dark elf rose to her feet and, still somewhat unaccustomed to the gesture, allowed the paladin to embrace her.

"So now I know how to inflame your libido." Lily said wryly, kissing the hollow of her taller lover's neck.

"One day, Lily," Virginia said with mock threat, kissing the drow's fragrant silvery white hair, "when you least expect it, I will thrust you against the wall and take you there as hard as I like and for as long as I like."

"Will you make it hurt...make it bleed?" Lily said, licking her lips in anticipation.

Virginia could only cradle the dark elf closer and resign herself to the fact that, as wild as some of her lovemaking sessions with Marséna had been, there was a Multiverse of infinitely more perverse acts to be explored. What only Marséna used to be able to say without blushing and scampering for a euphemism was probably tame insofar as Lily was concerned.

"Lily...thank you, you have made a good day a lot better." Virginia said softly, tenderly stroking her lover's hair.

"Good. So you will know to live up to your rank and climb higher still. This, I understand, is but the first step."

Virginia could always trust Lily to provide the pragmatic, cynical perspective. Nevertheless, something had begun to occur to Virginia, as much then as it did those cool, dark morning with the curtains closed when she would wake up to find Lily still asleep, but snuggled close and smiling. That revelation was that there would inevitably have to be a choice, not immediately, but soon, between Lily and Marséna. Unfortunately, Virginia had never been good at such choices: she had left Marséna halfway between her best friend and her beloved and Lily somewhere between passionate friendship and genuine love. To be sure, Lily could not match the depth of emotions Virginia felt for Marséna - but there were other issues there too and, as she clutched the voluptuous, sensual dark elf in her arms, it was Lily who always looked like the easy option out of a serious decision.

**********

"Reporting in, sir." Isolde said with military precision. Her work was proceeding apace. Finally, she had nailed down the whereabouts of those elements of the Order of the Radiant Path and their associates whom she believed to be the most easy pretexts for legal action. She knew that it all hinged on identifying the purpose to which this drow was being harboured in the headquarters of the Order. That would act as reasonable grounds for a detailed investigation which, in Isolde's experience, always yielded something incriminating. What happened from there had to be carefully coordinated to ensure that Virginia suffered the full brunt of the consequences.

"I am pleased with the progress of your daily status reports. I am happy to say that there is very little to which I can object, or, indeed, very little I can gainsay. The rarity of such occurrences, Isolde, indicate that you have dedicated both mind and soul to this endeavour and I am very satisfied that you have finally resolved to play by the rules of my little game." Dassau said, never once raising his elongated muzzle from yet another article he was in the process of drafting. This time, he thought it profitable to focus on the development of localised microeconomics in the Hive Ward as a sub-system of de-centralised perfect competition models.

"I only obey, sir." Isolde replied dutifully.

"Good, good. Now a contact has brought to my attention the supposition that there may be an extra-planar movement involving some members of the Order we have under surveillance. This clearly falls within the remit of this Bureau, since it does, technically, constitute external affairs. Once you determine the nature of this transit, I believe we should be well on our way to accumulating a sufficient quantity of evidence to make a case."

"As always, I am very much amazed by your information gathering abilities, sir."

Dassau laughed. It was not a human or mortal laugh, but a gross parody of one, "Isolde, I have existed for aeons. Information is to me like the air you must breathe for subsistence."

"Anything further, sir?" Isolde queried, anxious to leave. Any recollection of his demonic past sent Dassau, predictably enough, into a demonic mood.

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," Dassau's low, cultured voice weighed heavily in the air with each word, "another reduction in the basic rate of pay of all security operatives was announced this morning in the Hall of Speakers. I believe the majority was four hundred and twelve to seventy-nine with three abstentions."

"That, sir, is quite an irritation." Isolde winced internally. The loan she had taken out for the deposit on her room would probably be over-extended. Her current salary was just enough to pay the rent and keep her alive.

"If your concern is the loan you took in order to settle the deposit on your lodgings, that has been attended to."

"Sir?"

"I suspect you know that I shall not have my enjoyment tampered with. I need your mind clear, unprejudiced and focused on the task at hand."

"That is immensely generous of you, sir." Isolde said, with at least a hint of sincerity. Whatever the reasons, Dassau had just liberated her from a substantial worry.

"I imagine it is," Dassau said absentmindedly as he edited a somewhat inelegant paragraph in his article, "this may, however, entail a reduction in my rate of wine consumption."

Isolde controlled the urge draw attention to the fact that Dassau made at least fifteen times as much as she did and had no rent to pay. He, quite literally, lived in his office. Requiring no sleep, he was paid for his overtime night shift and spent most of it reading and drinking wine; much in the same way most of his day shift went. In the end, she resolved for a simple, "That is a shame, sir."

"Indeed it is. Next time you report in, please return my long coat from the cleaner. I believe I shall go for a brisk walk in the near future." Dassau never took his regular walks without his full length, military-cut coat. It made him appear more intimidating still, an effect he relished. To Isolde's knowledge, it had been tailor-made at enormous expense and bore some powerful enchantments which Dassau had devised specifically for the occasion.

"Very well, sir." Isolde said, with a degree of relief as she turned to leave. The stench of wine and old books had become overwhelming.

"Isolde, one last thing."

"Yes, sir." She answered wearily, turning around to face the dog-headed demon as he raised his cruel, Abyss-like eyes to meet her gaze.

"You never studied, why is this?"

"I believe you know why, sir." Isolde replied, irritated that Dassau was bringing the past she wished to keep buried back into the light.

"Your school reports from the Sigil Lyceum of Physical and Metaphysical Studies state that you were an extremely promising student: specifically, top marks in Mathematics, Geometry and Logic and the only perfect score of your year on your final exam in Physical and Chemical Sciences. You could, however, have done better in Grammar, but let us ignore that discrepancy for the moment." Dassau ran extensive background checks on everyone he knew.

"I repeat, sir, I believe you know why further studies would have entailed an impossible tradeoff."

"Were you never tempted? To my knowledge, you would have passed the entrance exam to the Academy or the University of Technics with consummate ease. Should you have taken this route....Well, Isolde, I need not be the one to tell you that you would not be here in the capacity of my assistant and secretary."

"And a great shame that would be too, sir."

Dassau snarled. Isolde knew that this was not a threat. Often, when Dassau tried to smile he snarled; it must have been something to do with the shape of his muzzle: "A career as a Logician abandoned in favour of a career as a secretary?"

Isolde knew it was pointless to fight. She knew that Dassau already knew all the ins and outs of the debate. He had known the day she had joined the Civic Security department, "Anyone would have done the same thing in my position and in my circumstances, sir."

"Yes," Dassau said with profound satisfaction, "your circumstances. I know that you would take objection to me dwelling too extensively on those."

"If it can be helped, sir."

"You may wish to one day make your peace with your very particular domestic issues, if I am not mistaken."

"I try to by not mentioning or reflecting too long on them, sir."

"So, Isolde," Dassau began, an edge of intense sadism creeping into his normally flawlessly composed, apathetic tone, "what do you imagine she would say if she saw you here?"

"Sir...please, sir, I beg you..." Isolde said softly, her mind already reeling from the suggestion.

"Do you presume she would be proud and satisfied that her..."

"Sir!" Isolde shouted, almost hysterically. It was the first time she had ever dared raise her voice with Dassau.

Dassau snarled again. Inwardly, he decided to keep his nature locked up in a little more. These sadistic indulgences were doing little for his path to redemption, "Very well, dismissed." With that he resumed his work.

Isolde felt the hot, hysterical fear subside in her. That thing, that mass of memories which Dassau had sent creeping out of her subconscious were hastily pushed back in. The secretary turned and exited the room. Her next few steps into the busy hallways of the Civic Security department were like a dream. A few colleagues greeted her, passed her by, looked at her curiously out of the corner of their eyes as they always did. But she proceeded oblivious to all that. She needed a bath, darkness and silence.

***********

Ithunn cringed inwardly. Inge had been weeping against her breast for the best part of a stroke of the Bell Tower. Each time she tried to interject into the desperate, muted sobs, she was greeted with an interminable, high pitched "Why?".

"Inge, treasure, please, it was not as you think." Ithunn said desperately. The particular corner of the library that she had chosen to disclose her little adventure with Elyszara to Inge had been chosen expressly to ensure that any subsequent scene drew as little attention as possible.

"Why?" Inge whimpered, predictably enough, clutching Ithunn with all her strength, her tears soaking the novice's tunic, "Is she more beautiful than me? Does she satisfy you more?"

"No, child, no." Ithunn said, with no great honesty.

"Liar!" Inge sobbed, yet, in doing, so she only clasped Ithunn tighter.

"Hush, Inge, come, let us talk about this." Ithunn said gently, stroking the trainee priestess' light, azure coloured hair with soothing tenderness.

"Why? So I can remain your fool?"

"Hush, child, I will not leave you." Ithunn comforted, somewhat more sympathetic than she had expected to be. Having said that, one glance at Inge's big, sad, tear-streaked grey eyes and the novice felt like weeping herself.

"Do you love me, Ithunn...please say that you love me." Inge begged, sensing an opening.

Ithunn felt herself tense inwardly. Yet again, Inge had manoeuvred her into an emotional trap, "Of course, sweetest, of course, I just thought that you would not mind...I mean, at this stage you know that I will always come back to you, but perhaps I could also have some time to myself - to come back to you as a more skilled and conscientious lover."

"Really, you would always come back to me?" Inge sniffed.

"Yes, but enough now or you will be late for your lessons." Ithunn knew that if there was any way she would be rid of Inge, it would only be by killing her.

"Oh, Ithunn, my love..." Inge cooed, nuzzling the novice's breast and abdomen. The tone Inge used when expressing her affection made Ithunn want to drink a pint of vinegar to offset the syrupy sweetness of the trainee priestess' voice.

"What in the Seven Heavens is going on here?" A voice, which Ithunn immediately recognised as Friyya's rang out in the darkened corner of the library.

"Nothing, Sister, just a little clarification." Ithunn replied, desperate to prevent Friyya from becoming involved as well. Inge merely clutched her friend protectively, burying her face into Ithunn's tunic as if burying her head in the sand.

"What are you two doing here?" Friyya inquired snidely as she arrived on the scene, "There are other places for that, you know..."

"No, Sister," Ithunn began wearily, "I think it just a little misunderstanding."

"Why so?"

Ithunn gently detached Inge from her so she could stand and look Friyya straight in the eye, "When relationships are young, there are often misunderstandings, so we are trying to settle one."

"Ithunn," Inge whimpered on, seemingly oblivious to Friyya's presence, "may I be at your side tonight?"

"Yes, of course, treasure, now be on your way." Ithunn admonished hastily and Inge complied, a half-satisfied smile forming on her lips as she left.

"What, may I ask, happened there?" Friyya said once she was certain Inge had left.

Ithunn's first instinct was to tell the paladin that it was absolutely none of her business, but, on second thought, keeping in mind Syf's invitation, she decided to keep things civil, "We were just clearing up the details of our relationship."

"Oh?"

"Inge took objection to me spending time with another...an aasimar who was kind enough to ask for the pleasure of my company. I merely clarified that it was nothing that would undermine our relationship."

The comment about the race of the person in question hit Friyya like a mace blow to the head. All of a sudden, memories of Syf, memories of Elyszara and her own repressed fears and neuroses came to the surface, "You made that sweet, loving girl weep for that? Why you slattern..."

Ithunn caught Friyya's hand in mid-flight and, before she knew it, the auburn-haired paladin was slammed against the bookshelf, her arm twisted behind her back as the novice held her down with such strength that even the slightest movement was painful. Friyya knew only Syf to possess such force, but now, face down against dusty books, her arm already aching from being held, hard, behind her back, she began to realise the absurdity of the situation: she was being pinned down by a mere novice.

"Let me go this instant! How dare you treat your fellow Sister in such a manner...how dare you treat a Consecrated paladin in such a manner!" Friyya snapped indignantly, only to gasp in pain as she felt her arm being twisted further. She did not even possess a fraction of Ithunn's strength and was accordingly forced to submit with only verbal threats as a defence.

"Some paladin." Ithunn said spitefully, pushing Friyya harder against the shelf, "Being held down by a novice. Shame on you."

"Ithunn, what in the Abyss has come over you?" Friyya said desperately. This was very much unlike Ithunn who was, even in the worst of times, obedient, gentle and tolerant of everyone. To see such rage and violence from the novice was disconcerting - not least because Friyya herself was on the receiving end of it.

"Never call me that again, understood? It does not matter whether you are my lover, my Sister or the Abbess herself, you will never call me that again."

"Ithunn, what's going on?"

"Get out and leave me be." Ithunn said sharply, releasing Friyya. The paladin instinctively leapt back, rubbing her sore arm. Ithunn's grip had been every bit as powerful as Syf's, but malicious to boot.

"I'll tell Syf," Friyya ventured spitefully, retreating into the aisle, "see what you hero will think of you once she knows what you did to her beloved."

"No!" Ithunn interjected desperately. She already sincerely regretted what she had done, but Friyya's reaction had triggered something primal and uncontrollable in her. The violence of her reaction had been based purely on instinct and not on hatred. As a matter of fact, she normally liked Friyya and certainly did not wish her any harm.

"You should have thought of that earlier, shouldn't you." Friyya said, sensing she was winning the upper hand. Ithunn, the upstart novice, would not get away lightly with this insult.

"No, Sister, please forgive me...I did not know what I was doing...punish me, force me to do whatever you wish, but never tell Syf...please." Ithunn said, trying not to beg.

"Fine," Friyya said, feigning magnanimity, "explain yourself, then."

"Sister..."

"Either you come up with a very convincing explanation for your behaviour or I will have no choice but to tell Syf."

Ithunn paused then met Friyya's gaze directly, "Very well. Know that what I am going to tell you know is nothing but the truth and may the Goddess strike me from her favour if I lie."

Friyya nodded, acknowledging the sincerity of the invocation.

"Before I came here, my father was an armourer and my mother stitched clothes. I first learned to handle weapons in my father's workshop and in the evening I would help my mother with the embroidering, because my brothers and sisters were younger than me and needed to be fed."

"My heart is breaking." Friyya said with cold sarcasm.

If Ithunn had taken a weapon to the library, she was convinced that Friyya would have been on the end of it, "As I was saying, Sister, I had little time for leisure. But one day, I met this girl near the Bazaar when I was bringing some fabric to sell at the market...she must have been my age, or thereabouts, and had the most beautiful dark eyes I had ever seen. We struck up conversation and met up whenever we had time. She was always up to no good, but it was just playing, really. One day my parents realised I had a new playmate and told me that they did not like the fact that she was not from Ortho, let alone that she was not fully human. But my mother, who was always tolerant, said to leave it be."

"Get on with it." Friyya snapped, though with less malice this time.

"One day, we were in the firewood storehouse behind my father's workshop and she kissed me all of a sudden. I thought I loved her so I kissed back and we sat there, on the cold floor for what seemed like the longest and most beautiful moment of my life. Then my father caught us. My friend scampered away in time, but he beat me until my mother threw herself between us and begged him to stop. I think I already lost consciousness, because my little sister had to tell me that last part. All I can remember was him calling me that, over and over again - saying that I was a slattern, a whore, a disgrace to my people and other things I could never repeat. So, Sister, that is how I was sent here: my mother said this would be the only way to make a decent person out of me and my father, as horrified as he was, knew of my potential with blades, so he agreed. So there, Sister, tell what you will to Syf, but do not neglect to include, on your honour, what I have just said."

"We have all lived through difficult times, Ithunn." Friyya said, her voice softening a little, "Syf tells me that you're a good novice and will make a better paladin, but you have to learn to master the past and not be slave to it. I understand that you are bitter and resentful at having been treated that way, but here you are among Sisters and you should never vent your frustrations on them. I know you to be a wonderful, good-natured person and there is no need for you to let your past undermine your character."

"With all respect, Sister, who are you to say that?"

"One day, Ithunn, perhaps after your Consecration, I will tell you a story and then, and only then, will you know whether to ask that question again." Friyya's gaze never once left Ithunn's.

The novice nodded. She only wished Friyya could understand her pain, the wounds that had been ripped open, "Please...I meant you no ill will. I have always admired you as a teacher and as a woman."

"Is that so? Do you find me beautiful?"

"I find you magnificent, Sister, and am happy that Syf has the delight of your company each night." Ithunn said, the words spilling uneasily from her lips.

Friyya blushed lightly, flattery was always a weapon to which she was vulnerable, especially when it came from a person whom she had begun to perceive as a rival of sorts, "You love Syf very much, don't you?"

"Yes, Sister."

"Know that your love is reciprocated. Now let us never speak of this again: I am satisfied with your explanation and see no reason why we should discuss this matter further." Friyya decided that Ithunn's gesture of deference was worth a reprieve.

"Thank you, Sister and, again, apologies." Ithunn said gratefully, hoping that dinner with Syf the next day did not bring up anything which had so far transpired.

"You can go now. But heed my suggestion and find Inge. Tell her that she's loved and hold her close to you. I know she can be a little on the sentimental side, but Syf thinks the same thing of me. In the end, Ithunn, Inge is one of the best of people, those who would never harm anyone, regardless of provocation or anger or resentment. These people - and if only you and I were amongst them -, these are the ones who will save us."

*********

Aerylle felt uneasy in the Styx Boatman - its bustle of life, low-life and, in some instances, un-life struck her as chaotic and threatening in the extreme. Still, the elven librarian was prepared to go to any lengths to prove to Min that she was not a closeted, frumpy type who allowed herself to be put off by a little of Sigil's night life. That particular evening, the tavern was experiencing a full house, so, much to Aerylle's wonder, Min was in a position to greet an acquaintance at disconcertingly regular intervals. At least, Aerylle reflected, it was nice enough to recline against a well-worn but comfortable couch with Min's reassuring arm around her shoulder, even if the clientele of the locale was suspect. In truth, Aerylle felt over-dressed and awkward under the circumstances. She had decided to make an impression and wear her good silk and pearl evening gown which reached to her ankles but was totally slit down the sides. The two halves of the dress were connected only by a dense network of thin, platinum chains around her waist.

She need not have bothered, for Min was busy exchanging pleasantries with a burly, coal-black minotaur who insisted on snorting every time he needed to emphasise a sentence - which was often enough. Aerylle found herself put off not only by the minotaur's worn battle-axe, which he carried around as if it were his dear life, but by the unpleasant mixture of mucus and cud which dripped down the creature's bovine snout. That was not the image she wanted to bear in mind for a romantic night out with Min. As far as Aerylle was concerned, an evening meant dinner, a walk in the Botanical Gardens followed by a good session of lovemaking. She was even prepared to appreciate Min's more energetic and forward style in the bedroom, but hanging around the Styx Boatman was a step too far.

Nevertheless, Aerylle resigned herself to the inevitability of it all. She had well and truly fallen in love with Min, so anything the tiefling did could be excused. She could only wonder if Min felt the same about her, but although she kept to herself, Aerylle knew her lover to have emotions deeper and more powerful than what appeared on the surface. In a petty way, it pleased Aerylle to see some of the tavern's patrons look jealously in her direction now that she had pride of place by Min's side, the tiefling's dextrous hands stroking her hair, as blonde as clear honey, or tracing the gentle curve of her collarbone with a long, deep red fingernail.

"How's the wine?" Min inquired as the minotaur, much to Aerylle's relief, turned back to obtain another drink at the bar.

"Fine, my sweet treasure, just a little strong." Aerylle said affectionately, leaning back further against the couch as Min's fingers worked their way through the intricate bundle of small braids and free-falling tresses.

"Aerylle...not in public." Min whispered fiercely - she did, after all, have a reputation to uphold.

"Oh, don't be such a child, Min," Aerylle reprimanded softly, "everyone respects you in this place, I surely do not make a difference."

"Yeah...well, just keep it down." Min concluded, though she knew the struggle was futile. Aerylle's slim, pale legs were perfect as the elven maiden settled into a more comfortable position as she stretched herself out on the couch.

"As my sweet Min wishes." Aerylle teased as she detected just a hint of a grimace on her lover's lips.

"So," Min began, changing the subject, "how d'you find this place."

"Fascinating...though, I feel somewhat in evidence."

"What?" The tiefling said, her tone perplexed.

"It means I feel awkward, Min. I shouldn't have dressed so formally."

"Oh, yeah, sorry, we don't all work in a library. But I think you look wonderful." Min said fervently leaning towards Aerylle to gently kiss the elven girl's pointed ear.

"Thanks..." Aerylle gasped as she felt the contact of Min's lips on her skin, "just remember that we elves are a little sensitive there, so maybe now is not the best idea." The elven librarian knew that 'a little sensitive' was a euphemism: her mother had always told her that decent girls left their ears at least partially covered for modesty, just as they would their breasts. It was a habit Aerylle found to be sensible enough since being put in a situation where Min's powerfully arousing lips would be deployed in public against one of her most sensitive spots was unfair, to say the least.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting."

"You will learn in time," Aerylle replied, sliding a dextrous hand into Min's lap and gently caressing the tiefling's lean, muscular thigh under the brown canvas of her leggings, "so when do you plan on dressing in a more...appropriate fashion again?"

"Appropriate?" Min snorted, "You mean all frilly and open so the wind and rain can fly up my..."

"Min!" Aerylle warned, taking one of the tiefling's hands into her own, "All I wanted to say is that I am proud to call you my lover and that you are essential to me no matter how you speak or what you wear, but it would be nice for you to change your style from time to time."

"Nice try," Min challenged, "but suppose I started changing my style to something like Shesayne's, you'd still have a problem with that."

"Well..." Aerylle conceded, feeling a little defeated, "Shesayne is not necessarily the best frame of reference..."

"Hah!" Min pounced, "Knew it, what happened...d'you lose your doll collection recently?"

"No," Aerylle replied, somewhat irritated - especially because, as a child, she had indeed possessed a very substantial collection of such items, "but speaking of which, you never did tell me about your family life, before Shesayne, I mean."

"That's 'cause there's nothing to say." Min said, all of a sudden more pensive, "Never knew either of them."

"Oh, I'm sorry Min, I remember you told me you had reservations about talking about it." Aerylle said, affectionately squeezing the tiefling's hand as she gently kissed her on the cheek.

"Nah, my mother dumped me before I could even remember her face, and a good job it was, too. Sometimes it's better to learn how to live than being told how with a silver spoon in your mouth."

"But you must have..."

"Institution of some sort - dark and cold - 'till I fucked off as soon as I could. Afterwards, you learn fast. Stay out of big trouble, take only what you need, stay out of the way of people with strange ideas about you, and the rest is Lady Luck." Min said, not a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"I understand, sometimes I really have no idea." Aerylle said. Truthfully, she could not even begin to understand Min's life or its workings, she could only listen and, like any good librarian, classify and archive the information.

"Don't worry about it, whatever you ask, I'll tell."

"Min," Aerylle began, emotions she would have preferred to have kept under control spilling forth, "I would like to say...that, well..."

"Min!" A voice interjected suddenly. It had a playful, pleasant quality to it and Aerylle noted traces of an intonation so distantly familiar that she could not quite recall it.

"By the Nine Hells, Verden, where have you been all this time?" Min replied with genuine surprise.

"I might ask you the same question, you worried me, it's been over thirty days or so." Turning curiously to scrutinise Min's friend, Aerylle immediately knew what she had recognised. Verden was a half-elf, but clearly leaning more towards the elven side and a half-wood elf at that. She had a lush appearance, with lustrous, chestnut brown hair streaked with shades of natural, moss-green that framed her delicate face, and deep, coffee brown eyes. The wood elf, though, showed through, as Verden was distinguished by a short, voluptuous body with rich, woodland tan skin, all clad in brown leather top and leggings.

"I'm touched," Min began sardonically, but smiling broadly - she was genuinely pleased to see Verden again, especially because she looked like she had news, "come, come sit down."

Verden moved with a certain intensity of purpose which was reflected in the strange glimmer in her eye, as if she were always hiding something. Leaning forward on Min's couch, she planted a soft kiss on the tiefling's lips, somewhat to Aerylle's disapproval. Min, however, was briefly too focused on the abundance of Verden's breasts as they strained against the tightly knotted leather top to take any notice.

"Oh, and who's this pretty little thing you've added to your collection..." Verden began, noting Aerylle in the corner of her eye.

"Aerylle." The elven librarian snapped, deciding not to wait for Min to introduce her, "And I would inform you that I am part of no one's collection."

"Can't you take a joke?" Verden replied, a little indignant, "I didn't know you went for uptight ones, Min."

Aerylle could only examine Verden closely, very closely indeed because the sight of the half-elf sent something welling up deep within her, something which brought her back in time and space.

"Hey Verden, easy," Min chided, not wishing for the situation to degenerate into a confrontation, "we're a little rough around the edges for her, but she means no harm."

"Look, Min, could I talk to you in private a moment? Something's come up."

"Right you are," Min agreed, Verden never wasted her time, "Aerylle, I'll only be a little while, just make sure no one takes my place." The elven maiden glowered briefly at Min, but assented. She was certainly in no position, nor did she have the inclination, to question any of Min's friendship.

As far as Min was concerned, it was truly a relief to have a little time to catch up with Verden, who may well have been her best friend after Shesayne. But whereas she had formed an intense bond with Shesayne, Verden was always a little more distant; too intense, too taken with her various, dubious, activities. That was not to say that she didn't care for Verden, indeed their lives had crossed often enough in the past for them to have become more the friends. Back in the day, Verden had been an integral part of Min's troupe, often posing as Shesayne's lover or business associate when they needed an elaborate setup for one of their thieving operations. Those were also the days in which the full-blooded elves of the Hive, always contemptuous of half-breeds, used to call her The Verden Mountains. The half-elf adopted it as a badge of pride and of defiance, so the nickname stuck. Not without good reason, Min concluded, because Verden had a perfect, sensual hourglass shape with gently flared hips and full breasts so that the tiefling could never recall having seen such curves on any offshoot of the elven race.

So, it was much to Min's pleasure to once again sit down by the bar with her old friend, and even more so when Verden ordered a half-bottle of Elysian brandy which normally sold at seventy marks a piece, minimum.

"You're flashing the jink, what place d'you hit this time?" Min inquired. Verden's palms were like sieves, to say that she was ostentatious with money was a gross understatement under any circumstances.

"Mercane shipment of spices...cleaned them out when we exchanged a coin box...look, Min, what the fuck are you still doing in that retrievals business? We could really use you and Shesayne again...and I miss you both." Verden did not normally manifest genuine emotions, but only affected them to make her routine more convincing, but with Min she made an exception.

"We had second thoughts."

"'Cause you put that ceramics store bitch in the dead-book? Are you barmy? How many did you and I stiff back in the day, Min? How many?" Verden had a point, like Min, she did not have too much trouble killing. Especially in the Hive, where the general assessment was that the loss of anyone else's life was better than the loss of one's own.

"I didn't, Shesayne did."

"Min, fuck!" Knowing of Shesayne's sensitivity to such things, both Min and Verden had done their utmost to keep the more violent side of their trade hidden from her.

"I know, so she packed things in and so did I."

"You could have brought her too, y'know, we could have had a little reunion..."

"She's got other things on her mind, but do her a favour and go visit her, she always loves to see you."

"Yeah, in time." Verden said with some regret. She had always had a special bond with Shesayne, for they could both relate to the same problems, even more so than Min. The tiefling did not need acceptance, but imposed it; half-elves, on the other hand, the products of a union between two naturally gregarious species, always strove, to an extent, to win the recognition of their peers, human or elven.

"So what's chant?" Min said, deciding to get down to business.

"Get this, you're being shadowed." Verden said conspiratorially as she poured two glasses of the clear, ruby-red brandy.

"Me?"

"Yeah, and your girl too. Apparently, Ivor and Belkiss said they kept noticing this creepy woman, Civic Security or something, hanging 'round their market stall. She started tailing Shesayne at the retrievals company, which led to you, which led to your friend over there. So I checked it out, and true to form, there she was, taking notes and hidden to the side in front of your work place."

"Who is she?" Min queried, draining her glass in one mouthful. Verden was quick to refill.

"No idea, but fucked up as Pandemonium, just to look at her."

"D'you reckon it's still the thieving stuff? An outstanding warrant or something?"

"No, this is where the story gets strange. I followed her on her daily rounds, and she's not doing a Hive sweep sort of thing to dig up a few thieves here and there, 'cause she regularly goes over to the Temple Ward and spends at least half the day there, moving back and forth from there to the Civic Security building every now and then."

"Temple Ward? Don't tell me..."

"Yeah, you got it, the same one where Shesayne's new fling lives."

"What does this woman want, though? I mean, they're pretty much on the straight and narrow, those Radiant Path girls." Of course, rational explanations were often insufficient to account for the general weirdness Min had observed in Sigil.

"I can try to find out...I have my ways, y'know." Verden winked suggestively and took a sip of her brandy.

"Be careful, now that you don't have me watching over you..." Min teased.

"Speaking of which," Verden said, trailing a delicate finger around Min's glass for effect, "I think it's high time for your next 'mountain exploration'."

"Maybe another time." Min said quickly. She was, as always, sorely tempted. Verden adored being submissive to Min in the bedroom and the half-elf had some seriously arousing routines which made Min's throat dry and pulse race just to think of them.

"Fuck, Min," Verden complained, "what's the matter, switching from semi-skimmed to full cream?" The half-elf had no interest in being outdone by a scrawny librarian.

"Don't insult your intelligence." Min replied as she stood up to leave, "Thanks for the heads up."

"'C'mon, Min, seriously," Verden whispered sharply, "Shesayne never minded."

"She's not Shesayne." Min said curtly.

"But I've missed you," Verden said seductively, running her fingernails down the back of Min's hand, before adding with a lascivious smile, "and I really need a good fuck."

"Then you know the street, someone's sure to pick you up." Min replied, turning around and moving back to rejoin Aerylle.

"You never spoke to me like that," Verden said loudly, rising to her feet, "why are you being such a cold bitch all of a sudden?"

It was then that Min realised she had gone overboard. Verden was known to be the one whose feelings simply could not be hurt because she kept them bottled down and hidden. Min, however, a spiritual lone wolf of sorts, had never quite realised the effect her actions could have on others.

"Verden, easy, it was a joke." Min said, raising a conciliatory hand.

"Fuck you," Verden snarled back, "you're all high-up since you found the only elf in the Multiverse who likes tiefling cunt."

"Hey! Verden, that's enough!" Min shouted; it was the closest to being offended she had come to in a long time. Verden, however, had already made a hasty and furious exit.

Min quickly hastened to Aerylle who, having overheard the loud confrontation, was profoundly shocked, "Sorry you had to see that." Min said, somewhat apologetically, kissing Aerylle's forehead.

"I'm sorry I had to hear that." The elven girl replied, hoping that her lover had not been excessively hurt by Verden's comments.

"She's never been like that."

"Glad to hear it." Aerylle said wryly.

"Look, Aerylle, just give me a moment, I really need to sort this out." Min said guiltily. It would have been stupid to compromise an old friendship for such a silly misunderstanding.

Aerylle looked plaintively at Min, "Am I to wait here all alone?"

"Just a moment, I promise." The tiefling said quickly, kissing Aerylle, this time on the lips, and leaving with her usual feline grace. Aerylle resigned herself to the fact that if she tried as hard as she could, there were barriers she was not meant to cross and lives she would never know more than superficially. What lay under Min was an ocean which she had only just begun to sail. Shrugging her shoulders, the elven librarian ordered another bottle of feywine and decided to pass the time by observing the Multiverse go by.

Outside, the night was already cold. A myriad of fires, lights and various magical illuminations burned in the distances and Sigil was awash in an odd glow, that illuminated its Great Wheel in contrast to the vast, empty void on either side of it. Only the Spire, the axis around which the Great Wheel turned, was faintly visible in the distance of Sigil's ring.

Min knew where to find Verden; she had always known since they were little more than children. The half-elf was slumped miserably in the darkness against an old storehouse, as if deep in painful contemplation.

"Verden..." Min said softly. She allowed her voice to be infiltrated with just a hint of concern.

"What do you want?" The darkness was heavy, though there was the occasional sound of revellers passing nearby, singing in a multitude of different languages, some at pitches not even audible to human ears.

"Verden, I'm sorry I said that. You'll always be Sigil's most beautiful landscape to me." Min joked, placing a hand on the half-elf's shoulder; only then did she notice the profound sadness which had replaced the intensity she had always associated with her friend's eyes, "Verden, don't..."

"Don't fucking say it." The half-elf growled, quickly running the back of her hand over her cheeks.

"C'mon, let's go inside, there's no reason to be out here, I'll buy you back a few drinks and you can update me on everything that's happened, sound fair?"

"You knew where to find me."

"Yeah, you like this place, or so it seems."

"It helps me think." Verden said quietly, regaining some of her collected composure, "I'm glad you remembered it. I only wish I had the same old Min and the same old Shesayne again; those people you picked before you left, they're sodding amateurs. We, well we were a team."

"I know, but times change and the Wheel spins on, and something tells me Fate and Lady Luck, nasty bitches they are, don't care much for the likes of us."

"Yeah, I know, I made my peace with that a long time ago. What I'll never do, though, is throw away the little she has given me, that'd just be sodding barmy."

"I agree and that's exactly why I'm here. Just 'cause we don't see each other as often, doesn't mean you stop mattering to me." Min said, her tone conciliatory now, as she drew Verden into her arms, the shorter girl's face buried in her shoulder.

"Yeah, as if you need to ask Lady Luck's help," Verden said sardonically, "you'd probably just end up between her thighs."

Min allowed herself a soft chuckle before leaning forward to gently kiss Verden's hair; it smelt of smoke and the expensive perfume the half-elf slathered in ostentatious quantities, but there was something fresher beneath, like the wet earth of the forest or the dawn mist on the leaves.

"By the Abyss, Min, not in public!" Verden protested.

"Well, that's why you chose this place, right?" Min teased, "So when you're all weepy and looking for a cuddle from dear little Min, there won't be a soul around to see it."

"Yeah, yeah, say what you want, but I'm still Verden and no one in the Hive would dare cross-trade me, unless they really like knives in odd places, that is."

"So are we going back in? Aerylle's going to have my head if we stay out much longer, you know."

"Sure," Verden said, quickly composing herself, "I should probably say I'm sorry too, she looks like a nice girl...I've got nothing against her. Even though she seems to mean that your latest expedition will have to wait." The half-elf had returned to her usual, mysterious smile, much to Min's pleasure.

"Seriously, though, I want to meet up again. I sort of felt guilty when I saw you...I understood that maybe I wasn't giving you the attention that our friendship deserved." In truth, Min had tried to sideline her past as much as possible, more for Shesayne than for herself.

"Anytime, I'll catch up with Shesayne, too, I swear, but for now," Verden said, reaching into her coin purse to retrieve two small, oblong black tablets, "how about a peace offering?"

"Sounds good to me." Min conceded, taking a tablet from Verden's palm and ingesting it, "Black Lotus...is it pure?"

"Only the best." The half-elf replied, swallowing her dose. Even that tiny dose would keep the going for most of the next day without sleep, as well as heightening the accuracy of all motor coordination skills. The downside, of course, was a crash of truly epic proportions, but Min planned on spending that on Aerylle's ludicrously plush bed, lying naked on the luxuriantly soft sheets, sleeping for a day without interruption on a soft, clean surface. It had been her first, coherent dream when she was a child and it had remained her foremost vision of bliss.

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

Back in the Styx Boatman, Verden almost seemed to return to normal. She was seductively conciliatory with Aerylle, apologising quickly for her remarks and proceeding to compliment the elven librarian for the beauty of her dress, and delightfully amiable to Min who suddenly realised she had found her old friend again after too much time.

"So, it's just hard running things without you two." Verden said - she had bought another round of expensive drinks, though that was not to Aerylle's liking. As far as the grey elf was concerned, prodigality with money was next to vulgarity.

"Really? Ilthis and Yedde are that incompetent?" Min inquired in disbelief. She had always been a good hand at selecting the ideal personnel.

"Yeah, Ilthis bungled up his last job. Still hope the sodding Hardheads won't be after us, 'cause they saw him. Problem is, they fall apart without you to give them orders, you always had a better mind that me at organising these things." Verden said. Much to Aerylle's irritation, the half-elf had taken a seat on the couch next to Min and occasionally graced the tiefling's long, ember-red hair with a loving caress.

"Why didn't you ever think of changing line of work...we offered back in the day. We really wanted you to come with us." Normally, that had been the great bone of contention between Min and Verden. The half-elven thief had simply refused to quit what she thought to be a highly profitable and rewarding profession. They had fought acrimoniously about it while Shesayne looked on with deep sadness in her eyes.

"It's the only life I know: the only thing I was good at, y'know all about this, though." Verden said softly. Aerylle looked on sceptically: there was something about Verden that troubled her and she could not tell Min why. It was not so much a bad feeling as a feeling of deep, bleeding guilt and resentment which overwhelmed her when she looked upon Verden, when she heard the faintest traces of that long-lost melodic intonation she knew she had heard.

"Offer's always open, though. You need anything, come to me. Things change, Verden, but you and me...I think that's set in stone." Min reassured.

The half-elf nodded gratefully, but added, "You never know, you might be the one coming to me. Now, ladies, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get something else to drink. Another brandy?"

"Sure, why not," Min called as the half-elven girl rose and made her way to the bar, "but, like I always said, don't spend it all in one go."

"A good friend of yours, I presume." Aerylle said coolly as soon as Verden was outside earshot.

"C'mon, princess, she's like family. I know that she can rub people the wrong way, but trust me, deep down, she's a good girl."

"You really do not need to call me that, you know." Aerylle said wearily.

"Yeah, but when you're dressed like that, I just can't help myself." Min said with her classically enigmatic smile as she leaned over on the couch to kiss Aerylle on the lips.

The elven librarian blushed a little. Min did have a point, as usual her presence was decidedly out of place in the locales the tiefling preferred to frequent, "How did you two meet, if I may ask?" Aerylle queried, deciding to change the subject. Min was intractable when it came to her light teasing.

"Y'know, it was strange. It was a little before I met Shesayne and I must have been just a little more than a child, 'cause I still remember I had my first bleed at about that time..."

"Min!" Aerylle interrupted desperately. That was certainly not the topic of polite conversation.

"Hey, can I tell the story or what? Anyway, I remember the poor girl was begging for a living. She did the sweet, innocent girl thing and got a few handouts, then, when it was darker, she picked a few pockets. But she was fast, really fast, and I liked her style...fuck, I liked her, so I approached her one day at the Bazaar and asked whether she'd like to go into business with me. We did more or less the same stuff - 'cept I never even thought of begging - and she agreed. We never looked back...until now, that is." What Min did not say, for she thought it too early, was how one day, some time after they had met Shesayne and formed an intrepid thieving trio, Verden had found a friend and almost as quickly lost her. She had never been the same since; afterwards she was changed - more cynical, more introspective, more solitary, as if she could never trust a soul again the same way she used to.

"Why her?" Aerylle asked curiously. Min's past never ceased to fascinate her.

"Because I saw a piece of myself in her. That's a hard feeling to shake, 'cause it comes back to haunt you. I only approached Verden after few a days of watching her and every single night of that time, I lay awake wondering if she was all right, if I should be there in case anything happened...y'know, the Hive's tough if you're small and pretty."

"I can imagine." Aerylle said, though, in all honesty, she realised she probably could not.

"Listen, then, 'cause I need to tell you this." Min said as Verden returned to take a seat by her side, a cut-crystal bottle of brandy in her hand.

Min realised that the story she was about to tell was not merely narrative. She needed to tell Aerylle something before their relationship went any deeper. She needed to tell the elven girl that there was a part of her which had little to do with fairy tales.

***********

Sigil was cold that evening, so Shesayne huddled close to Min under the icicle-sharp drizzle. Before them, the twilit sky was grey and overcast.

"Sod it, we're soaked, you're mother's going to have another go at us for this." Min said, teeth clenched. It was cool even for her.

"Just ignore her; don't pay her any mind and maybe, just maybe, she'll go away." Shesayne replied, comforted at least by Min's arm wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close.

"It's getting heavy, Shesayne, she even refuses to give us food now...it's only a matter of time before she tells us to sod off."

"Yeah, I thought she might, but at least we have work nowadays - nothing my dear mother would be proud and happy about, but we get by."

"D'you reckon Verden is all right? Under all this rain, I mean." Min thought back with a twinge of regret of how they had parted after a moderately successful operation. Verden had sworn she had somewhere safe to sleep, even if Shesayne, as usual, desperately offered a corner in her room and Verden, as usual, refused.

"She's always all right." Shesayne said, more in hope than in conviction.

"Hey, Shesayne," Min said suddenly, "let's take this side alley, at least it's a little covered. If we catch something, we'll be out for days." That was only a partial truth, Min noticed she was far less inclined to feel the effects of the weather than Shesayne - it must have been something to do with her Lower Planar blood.

The petite half-elf nodded in acknowledgement as the couple turned into the humid darkness of another crooked side-alley in the Hive. Decaying buildings hung over them like the carcasses of long dead giants. They moved soundlessly over ruined cobblestones interspersed with puddles of filthy water. It never really rained in Sigil: all that came down was a regular sheet of tiny, irritating, dirty needles of water and soot from the great foundries and tanneries in the industrial districts.

"Fuck, Min, what was that?" Shesayne exclaimed, immediately feeling worried in the darkness. As a tiefling, Min was better equipped to see.

"What?"

"Someone just grabbed me." Shesayne whispered, huddling close to her friend.

"You ladies sellin'?" A voice came from the darkness, low and guttural.

"Sod off, berk." Min snarled.

"Shouldn't let your friend out dressed like that, then."

"Hey, fuck you!" Shesayne snapped, only to feel Min's hand firmly squeezing hers, telling her to desist.

"You ladies sure 'bout that, how's three hundred for the little one?" The voice said, though only Min's eyesight was good enough to discern that it came from burly humanoid with a porcine snout, an orc, perhaps, or a hobgoblin.

"On your way, berk, before there's trouble." Min cautioned, a hand finding her dagger in its sheath.

"Nine Hells, you two sure are uppity for whores." The being croaked.

"Say that again." Min challenged, an edge of danger creeping into her voice.

"Min, no..." Shesayne begged, sensing her friend's temper flaring, "let's just go home, we can have a nice hot meal and warm ourselves by the..."

"Say that again." Min repeated, oblivious to Shesayne's protestations.

"Whoah, easy, just a thought." The creature said.

Min said nothing, but her dagger sailed through the darkness, striking the green-skinned humanoid on the shoulder, drawing forth a hot gout of deep crimson blood. Shesayne could hear it dribble on the paving like droplets of water. The creature howled in agony, reeling back - only to realise that Min was upon it, the full force of her leap pressing it back against a rotten, stinking wooden wall.

"Min!" Shesayne cried desperately, "It's over, fuck it, let's just go."

"You need to learn where to keep your hands, berk." The tiefling said, staring deep into the humanoid's piggy eyes and noting, with satisfaction, intense, visceral fear, "And you need to learn how to treat a lady." With that, Min extracted her second dagger and planted it with full force against the humanoid's straining wrist, nailing it to the wall. More howls of pain filled the darkness.

"Please, miss, have my apologies," the humanoid groaned as it gasped for air through its boar-like muzzle, "I should be on my way."

"Too late," Min said, her tone almost sadistic as her flaming eyes contemplated the quivering being beneath her - that was all there was to it, accurately placed shock and surprise and creatures far stronger than she was on a purely physical level could be reduced to whimpering masses of leather and flesh, "looks like I need to teach you that particular lesson." The tiefling twisted the dagger savagely in the humanoid's wrist so as to shatter the bone and then proceed to slowly slice off tendon and muscle, letting the limp hand fall wetly against the cobblestones. More hot spurts of live blood followed. Min leapt back, balancing herself on the creature's abdomen for leverage and allowing to fall to its knees, desperately clutching its bloody stump, moaning in pain.

"Min...you could have left it." Shesayne whimpered as she felt the tiefling's arm around her shoulders, "What was the use in that? We could have been on our way and everybody would have been fine...you crazy bitch." The half-elf abruptly pushed Min away and began to walk off, quickly, so as to evade the enduring screams of the being her friend had just mutilated.

"Shesayne..." Min called desperately, as she ran down the alleyway in pursuit.

"Why? Don't we see enough sodding blood already?" Shesayne sobbed, turning to grip Min tightly, only to be rewarded by a thick, metallic stench on the tiefling's hands.

"Shesayne, I did it to protect you. I would never let anything bad happen to you...I'd kill myself first."

"One thing is if he's holding me down, Min, but he was just asking...you know how many real whores there are in this place?"

"I'm just sick of you being treated that way..." Min said, though, in truth, she could not really explain it to herself either. That anger, that sadism had come from deep inside her, welling up like the bile of her fiendish ancestry and briefly seizing control of her.

"Yeah, me too, but that's no reason for anyone to lose a hand."

"I'm sorry, Shesayne." Min whispered softly, her voice rich and soothing, "How about we get home, take a warm bath and get under the covers?"

"A bath, huh? So you can slice someone else's hand off for a stupid comment?" Shesayne said accusingly, thinking of the rather frightful communal bathing area in the housing block where her mother lived.

"Then let's just get under the covers...I'm still Min, you know."

"I know, I know...just don't do this to me again. There's no reason for us to become cutthroats or murderers."

"I don't want to put anyone in the dead-book, Shesayne, but sometimes, they ask me to write their names in it."

**********

Min's narration became the bottom line of the evening as far as Aerylle was concerned. From then on, deep into Sigil's night, all the grey elf could think about was the Multiverse she had read so much, but knew so little, about. Whatever the case may have been, Aerylle was happy that Min had seen fit to confide in her; it just confirmed her hope that they were well on their way towards a budding, beautiful relationship. Ultimately, what Aerylle found herself fantasising about shocked even her. It was certainly nothing she was inclined to tell Min in the near future and, by and large, it was something she preferred to keep deep within her, so as not to disappoint that profound, guilty desire that thrust her forwards into some unnamed future. In those fantasies, all Aerylle could see were white, billowing curtains, soft silk sheets, rich sunlight streaming through open windows with Min asleep by her side, and soft laughing voices in the distance coming from the adjacent room.

By the early hours of the following day, almost as Sigil neared daybreak, Min put a sleeping Aerylle to rest under the sheets of her bed, making sure the elven girl was sufficiently warm and comfortable. Then she undressed and took her lover's side, still very much awake from the effects of the Black Lotus, and pensive. It had pained her to bid Verden farewell and did so only when she realised that Aerylle had fallen asleep in her lap. The tiefling knew that, as the first rays of light broke into the small, but comfortably appointed bedroom where Aerylle slept, that she would soon have to leave for another day's work and that if she could take any lesson from what had transpired: from meeting Verden, thinking about Aerylle and reminiscing about the past, it was that choices were constantly being made. Each day that passed merely made those choices more painful still.

In an ideal world, everything would be clear, happy and effortless for herself, for Shesayne and for everyone else she knew she loved. Such were the ways of the Multiverse, however, that she could only touch this ideal world briefly, in those carefree moments between Aerylle's sheets where there were no choices to be made, but only slow-burning passion to be consummated.