�������� �� The Ashlar Wyra, Cyan Fallenaxe, lifted her wings to catch tickles of the early morning breeze. The Keeper of the Silver Grove closed her eyes as the sensations filled the delicate membranes of her pinions. She then stretched her arms above her head, sending out tendrils of her awareness to check on the Grove and all its inhabitants.
��� ��� She was still new to the position and the abilities it meant she possessed. Never in her life did Cyan think she would be one of the few who could Earthspeak, making her able to defend the sacred Grove of her people, the Ashlar.
��� ��� The faintest flush of pride was creeping into the grey-blue of her skin when something begged her attention. Lifting her nose to the wind, and turning more of her mind to the tendrils of Earthspeak she'd sent out, the winged Ashlar found someone trying to enter her space through the stone beneath her feet. There was only one she knew with the power to do so.
��� ��� ''Flame...what a...by the Grove, what happened to you?'' pale green eyes widened as Cyan took in the battered and bloodied form of Flame Quickning.
��� ��� Still trying to heave her body out of the ground, the Quickning didn't spare a glance up, ''Run in with some Lyeazic...'' A grunt cut off her words as she tried to stand. She pressed a hand to her side and stood nearly on one foot. ''I wish I had time to tell you all about it, but I need Silver Birch bark, and I need it now...I can already feel the poison coursing through my system. Cyan, please...''
��� ��� ''Flame, whatever manner of trouble you've gotten yourself into...you know I still have to extract the price for the bark. If I didn't...''
��� ��� Flame waved impatiently, ''I know...just do it.''
��� ��� With a sigh and a shake of her head that sent her thick black hair swishing, the Keeper of the Grove stepped closer to Flame and placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder.
��� ��� Flame's eyes nearly rolled back into her head as energy she really couldn't spare was pulled out of her. She could feel it move into Cyan, and then into the ground to spread about the Grove. Just as black spots started filling her vision, the drain stopped and she found herself standing only by Cyan's grace.
��� ��� ''What foolish thing have to done to warrant this condition Flame?''
��� ��� An exhausted smirk tried to find its way to her lips, ''Why, I had to go get Thistle,'' guilt twisted her features, any pretense of humor vanishing. ''I wasn't thinking, I went to get her, got attacked, and now you see me here.''
��� ��� ''As long as you recognize the extent of your folly...''
��� ��� ''Spare me the lecture Cyan...I really don't have the time...the bark please?''
��� ��� ''Very well...but I think we shall speak on this later.'' The Ashlar set Flame down in the short grass and turned to one of her beloved Silver Birch trees. Placing a large hand upon the trunk, she closed her eyes. A small tendril of awareness slid into the tree, waking the slow spirit and asking for a boon. Sleepy, but friendly, the tree was happy to comply and soon Cyan had a fair sized strip of bark in her hands.
��� ��� Flame watched on hungrily, her eyes glimmering with green light as she followed Cyan's conversation with one of the Grove spires. When she saw the bark drop into the Ashlar's hands, she nearly whimpered with relief.
��� ��� Cyan then held the bark in both of her hands, her brow bent in concentration. A flicker of green energy danced about the bark as it dried at an incredible rate, becoming useable in a matter of moments. Being careful with the now crumbly bark, Cyan folded it neatly in a piece of fabric she pulled from its tucked place in her belt and handed the package to the waiting Flame.
��� ��� ''Here is what you were looking for Flame. Now stay and allow me to help you use it.''
��� ��� ''Can't...I need my lava flow if I'm going to beat this much silver on my own.'' She clutched the bundle to her chest like a treasure newly found. ''Thank you Keeper for your gift, you and the Grove.''
��� ��� ''You'll lose your way in the Earth being this tired Flame, you know it.''
��� ��� ''Cyan, if there's one place I can get to without thought, it's my home. Earth Herself will make sure I get there...promise.''
��� ��� There wasn't anything she could do, Flame was already sinking into the stones. And even though Flame was depleted near to breaking, she still had skills in Earthspeak that Cyan hadn't learned as of yet, so she sighed and watched the bright red hair sink away, leaving her alone once again in the quite Grove.

��� ��� Flame kept a bottle of fyrewyne in the kitchen just for this purpose. She blew dust from the label and pulled the cork with her teeth, growling at the waves of pain that radiated through her body.
��� ��� ~*Hurry...I don't know how much longer I'll be able to help keep us upright,*~ Warrior's voice was faint and weak, almost to low for Flame to hear, even though they shared the same space.
��� ��� ''I'm trying...but I hurt as much as you do,'' she spoke aloud, which was easier than trying to concentrate on mental communion with her tiger sister.
��� ��� The first attempt to put some wyne in a mug failed, and Flame snarled at her weakness. The second attempt succeeded, and she stood there panting, looking into the swirling iridescent liquid, nearly mesmerized with fatigue.
��� ��� ~*Light it...put the bark in...I can't...*~
��� ��� Like a sleep walker, Flame stuck a fingertip into the wyne, a spark igniting. A flash went up from the mug, turning the swirling to a shallow well of deep ruby, sparkles of crimson tumbling throughout. Then opening her precious bundle, Flame crumbled up a small amount of the dried bark into the drink. Thin spirals of smoke drifted up as the herb mixed with the fyrewyne, the mixture now shot through with silver.
��� ��� Taking a deep breath, Flame lifts the mug with a trembling hand, and finishes the drink in a long, slow, draught. The mug crashes to the floor as nerveless fingers drop it. Flame spins and rushes out of the room, heading down the hall to a door marked ''Sanctuaries''.
��� ��� ~*So much...pain...*~ Warrior's voice faded as the last of her strength gave out, leaving Flame in sole control of the convulsing body. The birch bark sped through her system, burning with a pain like that of the original wound.
��� ��� Down the long corridor she stumbled, plowing blindly towards the massive heat source she needed. The wall blocking those without the necessary Gift loomed ahead of her, and she tucked her good shoulder to push her way through.
��� ��� A blast of heat and acrid smoke filled her remaining senses, luring her down the last few yards to the lava flow she so desperately needed. The corridor opened into the cavernous channel the magma traveled through, the burnt orange glow stinging Flame's eyes for a second. With a sigh she stamped her foot on the ground once, hard, sending a tremor away, as if in message. Then, with eyes closed, she stepped out and fell into the thundering river of Fire.

��� ��� The Silver Birch Grove shimmered as if a breeze rippled through it. Cyan lifted her wings to try and catch it, puzzled when she could not. The stones beneath her feet shuddered, and a tendril of Earthspeak discovered that a message had been sent to her. Flame had made it, just as she had promised. The Ashlar Wyra shook her head, a look of faint resignation flickering in her pale green eyes. The Quickning always was a stubborn one...

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''One Gift'' Copyright � 1999 Jessica Cahil