Malifain felt odd as he handled the two scimitars he’d been instructed to wield for now. Poison, in his left hand, glowed and angry green and gold, while Paradise hummed with a light silver and blue highlights.
“Now, show me what you know, as you please.” Lilithia silently bade him, watching and making noises as he tried his damndest to make use of them. The blade caught, steel ground together and with a clang, both of the scimitars hit the dirt five feet away. Malifain swore and tromped over to pick them up, pausing as Lilithia took control of his body. He felt the natural numbness as his nerves began to heed her call, being sectioned off into his own mind.
“Like this,” She said aloud, her voice as clear as the sunshine outside in the dirt arena. “Not so fast at first.” Lilithia instructed him, weaving the scimitars after having picked them up. “Use this one,” she said, lifting Poison to act out an attack. “To attack, the other,” she murmured, feigning and making a strong parry with Paradise. “To parry.”
Again, the numbness as she back away, letting him flow back into the body. He shivered, following her movements.
“Good.” She whispered, tinkering with her mind to let him see he fighting rituals, which she had been known to join with Drizzt in the early summer mornings. Left, over that stump, up, hack-hacking away at the dead stump. As he followed her guidance, soon the wood chips were fine and smooth, the scimitars answering his every call.
But he was not expecting her next step, as she reached out with her psionic powers and excited the wood of the stump.
“Retreat!” she briskly reminded him as the wood heated and splintered in his face, just as he rolled off to the side. Chuckling as she watched him pull bits of burning bark out of his long black ponytail, she reminded him not to stop moving the blades. “You’d be a dead elf.” She hissed.
“That’s enough fo today.” Cadderly chimed, smiling as he watched Malifain. The scimitars snapped back into their sheaths as Malifain returned the greeting with a smile of his own.
“Hello Cadderly.” Lilithia whispered through all three of their thoughts. Cadderly nodded and replied, though Malfain couldn’t hear it.
“Progress?” he questioned, his raised brow completeing the punctuation. She replied, making him smile, though Malifainknew better than to think she was making jokes at his horrible fight skills.
“Well, I see that you’re doing well,” Cadderly said, looking to Malifain and chuckling. “We’ve received a runner set by Drizzt.”
Both Malifain and Lilithia connected the dots, their shared heart stopping briefly. Cadderly smiled as Malifain’s smile almost wilted.
Cadderly shook his head. “No, good news. Drizzt and Catti-Brie have met and are close to getting the cure for her.”
They both heaved a sigh together, Lilithia and Malifain, both of them having become as one almost in their body. It would soon be time for them to chase Solanil down. As Cadderly departed, leaving them to think, Lilithia asked Malifain the key question.
“Will they make it back soon enough?” She whispered, her tone blank of sarcasm, anger or pride. Malifain shook his head, reaching with a hand to wipe the bead of sweat off his brow. They could only pray that he would make it back before her body expired, trapping her in Malifain’s thoughts.
Drizzt reigned in his tall black stallion, looking back over his shoulder to where Catti-Brie and her spotted white gelding were sinking into the mire. Somewhere far to the east a thunder bolt sounded, reminding them of the shortly-passed thunder storm. Catti-Brie groaned as she slid out of the soaked saddle to lead her horse up to Drizzt, handing the reins to him as she got up behind him. He handed her back the reins as he walked the stallion up the dimly moonlit trail ahead of them.
“Dawn will come soon.” He assured her, pushing back the soggy cowl of his cloak to look up into the stars, then farther ahead. When all he heard in return was a sigh, he glanced back at her. Shaking her head, Catti-Brie frowned.
“Why did ye never tell me?” she whispered, folding her arms and wobbling as the stallion’s hoof slipped in the muck. “Ye had a daughter and now she’s about to die and ye never telled me.”
Drizzt’s shoulders slumped as he took a deep breath. “I did not even know I had a child, until I saw her… fighting. She’s much like Zaknafein.” He told her, his tone soft and reminiscent of better times past. “It’s a shame he never met her.”
“And a shame I might not either!” she said, so suddenly it made the stallion flinch. Drizzt stopped the horse and turned to her.
“She adores you, Catti-Brie. Lilithia is searching for her hero, as I found in my father, and perhaps… perhaps she needs a hero in you.” He said, his curious smile infecting her and making her grin.
“Oh no ye’re not! Ye can’t-“ she was about to protest that he obviously wanted Catti-Brie to be as her sister.
“Not for an old friend?” Drizzt prodded, signalling the horse on and looking ahead. He smiled all the wider as Catti-Brie laughed.
“Okay, ye want me to foster yer little girl because she’s not a daddy’s girl.” She said, waving away what might have been a completely different proposition. Drizzt shrugged.
“I cannot be the mother she never had.” He grimly reminded Catti-Brie. He had slain her mother some years ago, when Lilithia was barely a toddler. She had been raised for the greater part of her life by Jarlaxle and his band of criminals, raised into the height of sorcery when they had been forced to return her to her grandmother, Matron Baenre.
Catti-Brie winced. “I will. For her.” She conceded, patting him gently on the shoulder. He smiled again, glancing back to her.
“You will, no doubt, find in her the sister you yourself never had.” He pointed out. “Two more miles and then we let the horses rest while we dry off.”
