�������� �� Stygian glanced around the beach, noting the traces of recent
power. He had
felt when J'Nekai had been struck down, she was as much a part
of his soul as
she was Thistle's. He could still feel N'kekai, but she had
been, for lack of
a better term, disrupted, her thoughts choatic, herself
formless. In her
current state, Stygian was unable to use his connection through
her to find
where Thistle was... or even to tell if she was still alive. He
glanced at
the stirring form of the young white dragon, she wasn't badly
wounded, just
stunned really. Before he went to check on her, something in
the sand caught
his eye. Taking a few steps over he found what gave him a new
sensation...
fear for a friend. In a small circle of red-stained sand lay a
hand,
Thistle's hand.
��� ��� Ivory pushed herself to her feet, shaking her head. That damn
sword had
amplifed the magic, caught her off guard. Blinked a few times,
she looked
around quickly to find the dark elves, or Thistle. Her blue
eyes fell on a
form from memory, a form of one hated. The last time she had
seen him, he had
been torturing Thistle to dead. There he stood, holding... a
hand?
��� ��� Releasing a cry of anger, Ivory leapt into the air and hurled
as large a
fireball as she could manage, all in one smooth motion. Stygian
turned his
head at the cry, just in time for the fireball to explode in his
face. As he
stumbled backwards, from the surprise, not the pain, Ivory
hurled a bolt of
lightning, followed by another in quick sucession at him.
''Bastard!'' Ivory cried, ''I'm not letting you take her from me
again!''
��� ��� Stygian, opened his eyes to look at his attacker, his face
slightly
scorched, the small bolts striking his scales without notice.
��� ��� ''Child, if you mean Thistle, I had nothing to do with this, I
came to help.''
he said evenly.
��� ��� ''Liar!'' Ivory cried angrily, ''I've seen what you do, demon!''
��� ��� Stygian hissed quietly in frustration, moving his head aside
absently as
Ivory streaked by, all claws. He didn't have time to convince
this strangely
familiar young dragon that he was a 'good guy', but what he'd do
next wouldn't
change the little dragoness' opinion of him, but it might help
him to find out
what happened to Thistle. As the little dragon curled in the
air, preaparing
another spell, the shadows on her own body curled around her,
pinning her
wings and legs. With an exclamation of surprises, Ivory fell
the the ground,
her fall cushioned by shadows. A second later, Stygian was
looking down at
her.
��� ��� ''Not going to lose her again... not to you...'' Ivory said
defiantly.
��� ��� Stygian just looked at her and pushed through her mental
defenses to see
what he wanted to know. He found more than he barganed for.
Images of
another world, one where he and his family fed on the pain of
all, feared and
hated by many. A world where Thistle died by his claws.
Shaking his head a
little he focused on what he wanted to know. Thistle had been
attacked by
those dark elves. Ivory had tried to help but had been knocked
unconscious
without seeing her fate.
��� ��� Retreating from Ivory's mind, Stygian glanced around the beach
again. If
they had her, he'd free her, if she were dead, he'd make them
suffer for it...
sometimes, death is the easy way out. Turning he began to fade
into the
shadows.
��� ��� ''Sometimes, things change... Ivory,'' he said as he
dissapeared.
��� ��� Ivory felt the shadows fade around her as she hissed once more
at Stygian's
form.
��� ��� ''I won't lose her again... I won't,'' Ivory swore quietly to
herself.
''Black and White'' Copyright � 1999 Blake