Elainne Dunaway Payal's Fledgling Gloucester 1917 A.D. .......... [GM] Payal waits impatiently as you say farewell to Geoffrey, then leads you down the path away from the abbey, and onto the road. "We will have to get you some more appropriate walking shoes, when we get into town," the Indian woman says, glancing at your thin-soled shoes with disapproval. She travels very lightly, with just a single large rucksack sling over her shoulders. It's long enough to hold a short sword, perhaps, but she carries no visible weapons. She carries one other item; something square and bulky, wrapped in a thick cloth, tucked under her arm. She also seems to be in a hurry, as she urges you to walk faster, and keeps glancing back at the abbey. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne Dunaway ~~ Elainne finishes her goodbyes to Geoffrey, feeling a twinge of remorse at her decision. She could read it in his eyes: he felt her wrong for following this strange Indian woman. She hoped her own instincts proved more correct. Having little with her after the explosion at the train station, she scurries after Payal finally. She is amazed at how rapidly this small woman moves. What surprises her more is the hurry that she seems to be in -- as if she is either running =from= something or =to= something. Occasionally, she follows Payal's glances back toward the abbey, curious. Were she to know this woman better, she might ask what concerns her -- but instead she muses to herself to occupy the time. "We will have to get you some more appropriate walking shoes, when we get into town." Elainne looks over at Payal, only to see the woman frowning down at her borrowed shoes with disdain. She looks down at her shoes, too, nodding agreement. "Yes. If we do much walking, I will," she comments softly. The cool night air nips at her legs, which are barely covered by her thin dress, but she says nothing to bely any complaints. Besides the occasional rub-down of both her arms, she concentrates on things besides the chill. Thoughts of her family back home spring to mind. Things had been happening so quickly that she had not even considering attempting to contact them. She looks back to Payal, wondering if this woman has a family someplace. To consider this woman borne out of the distant past still comes as a stretch for Elainne. It was so much easier to admit she believed things and go along. Images of Thaddeus flickered into mind. He was the eldest of her four brothers, and he was her favorite. He was also the philosopher of the family -- the literary genius. He would pour over books for long hours in his bed at night, often using just a candle because dad would make him flip off the light. His visions were the initial impetus that got her thinking about traveling to France. He had begged her to go overseas and send him information about her travels. Having read much of the classic literature, he was thirsty to learn more directly about the places and had talked to Elainne about his wishes. Two years previously, Thad had given Elainne a book by Alexandre Dumas as his Christmas gift, and her own imagination was sparked with his. Finding that the front in France was in need of physicians merely gave her the excuse to pursue two desires -- help the wounded and see new sites. Thaddeus' sixteenth birthday was at the end of this month, and she had had plans of acquiring books to send home to him while she was in France. She knew he would really enjoy that. She realizes with clarity, though, that this might not come to pass now that Payal was in charge of her destiny. She starts chewing on her lip again, puzzling over how selfish she suddenly feels. "Are we going someplace special?" she asks aloud finally. Her family knew she was going to France, which meant she would soon need to let them know her change in plans. Plus, it might just be possible to send her brother something from someplace ....unexpected. <><><><><> [GM] "Yes," Payal replies. "Ireland." Again that mysterious smile. Ireland is about the last place you expected her to reveal as your destination. Then you hear an explosion, and stiffen for a moment, almost having a flashback to the train station. You are at the top of a short hill, at the exact point where you'll get your last glimpse of Gloucester Abbey, and looking back, you see several pillars of flame rising from it, generating thick, black smoke. Payal does not turn or slow down. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ "Oh, no....," she breathes. Peering back as the smoke rises in tall thin columns, her face registers both shock and horror. She looks at Payal, stunned that she is continuing without hesitation. "We have to go back," she begins. Her eyes shift uneasily back and forth from the abbey to Payal. Then, she stops dead in her tracks. It is as if she intends to take the path back to the church -- by herself, if need be. Anticipating some disagreement, she automatically adds a brief explanation, "I'm a doctor.... !" Her tone carries a hint of urgency. It has already occurred to her that Payal may well have something to do with the explosion, but that is the least of her concerns. "What if someone is injured?" More appropriately, she worries that Geoffrey or one of monks has been hurt. Just now, it is less a concern why there is an explosion than simply that it has occurred. She meets Payal's eyes directly, urging the woman silently to join her. <><><><><> [GM] Payal pauses, then turns to look back at you over her shoulder. "We are not going back," she says in a tone that brooks no disagreement. Her eyes are unblinking, cold and remorseless. Her stare is both commanding, and implicitly threatening. She will not *allow* you to go back. You can see it in her eyes. "Geoffrey will be fine. Have you forgotten he is an immortal? As for the rest..." she shrugs, in an unconcerned manner that gives you an icy feeling. "Other doctors will arrive soon enough to tend to the survivors, I should imagine." "Now come along. We have miles to go, yet." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ A shiver runs through her. This woman was heartless -- something that was far different guessing might be true than having to deal with firsthand. She blinks then looks back at the abbey, still remaining firm where she stands. What had she gotten herself into? She swallows once then turns away to follow Payal. Her mind starts wandering through a series of rationalizations -- maybe no one was hurt -- maybe the explosions were only minor -- maybe..... She looks back over her shoulder one last time as she steps further down the hill. Finally, the abbey fades out of sight -- but the thick plumes of smoke remain visible over the top of the hill. Her attention is so focused on that, it is a wonder she does not fall flat on her face -- but somehow, she manages to keep enough attention on Payal that she continues along behind her. "You knew that was going to happen," she states in a sullen tone once out of sight of even the smoke. Her voice softens but continues to be accusatory. "You knew...." No wonder Payal had been in such a hurry. She realizes that she also would have been caught up in the explosion had she stayed.... the second one in less than forty-eight hours! Her stomach churns with the guilt she feels at having to turn away. Not only that, she dislikes immensely feeling the role of child compared to Payal. She has always been headstrong. Not feeling able to be so here is nerve-wracking for her. She wants to know why. She wants to understand this world she has suddenly been thrust into -- one of death, arguments, twisted fates. She holds her tongue, though. Payal's declaration was enough to keep her quiet for now. But, she would hold the questions locked inside her until the opportunity arose to ask them. Instead, she increases her pace to come alongside Payal -- matching stride for stride so as not to fall behind again. <><><><><> [GM] "Of course I knew," Payal says calmly. She continues walking silently for a while, then says, without looking over her shoulder, "There was a reason for it, and it was not casual destructiveness, though I certainly don't mind any opportunity to kill a few more Englishmen." Then she turns towards you, and her smile is almost kindly. She lays a hand on your shoulder. "You are appalled. But you will get over it. You will see worse. Perhaps someday, do worse." Her eyes, no longer narrowed and intimidating, but still as intense as ever, seem to regard you as across a vast distance. "The weak do not survive, Elainne," she says softly. "Neither do the innocent." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She meets Payal's intense gaze unflinchingly. If nothing else, this Indian woman was a lady of extremes. More than anything right now, her sense is that she might just have hooked up with an extreme fanatic. Somehow, though, the woman had hitched onto one of the things that stoked Elainne's fire. Payal was challenging her. She was putting up an insurmountable wall and asking Elainne to climb it.... not only that, but to beat it, perhaps. "Innocence changes with experience," she says simply. She believed herself far more innocent than weak. Weakness was something she felt her mother to be -- not herself. Too curious to wait any longer and feeling now as good a time as any with Payal's sudden expression of tenderness, "But...... why the abbey? I thought it was holy ground. Isn't that supposed to be sacred?" <><><><><> [GM] "Sacred," Payal snorts. "Christian holy ground is not sacred to me." "Oh yes, the Rules forbid combat on holy ground, and I would not risk taking someone's head there. But if there is some Christian deity who will strike me down for violating his church, I have never met him." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Payal's words sliced through her like honed steel through flesh. She winced, despite herself. This woman was worse than cold-blooded -- she was insane. Elainne shuddered as she considered fully the gravity of the decision she had made. What had she gotten herself into? She also realized with all the clarity of a blind man seeing the light for the first time that this education session was going to be far more a battle of wills than a test of skill. Elainne was Christian. Or, at least, she had always considered herself that. Certainly, she had grown up in the midst of the Bible belt in the U.S. and held fast to most of the Christian tenets. She just hoped her own willpower would last her through any ordeals. She had fallen back a little behind the Indian woman by now and looked at the back of her head, imagining what it might be like to hold a sword and swing it so hard to cut through a spine. She shuddered again, grimacing. It had been hard enough to deal with deliberately cutting through bone in anatomy class -- but to do it with the intention of causing death -- she was a bit less certain about that. Most of her readings of other cultures had centered around European history. She regretted sorely not having spent some time on Asian cultures and beliefs. "So, what constitutes Holy Ground? Is it churches only? or also cemeteries, synagogues, shrines, temples?" She was quickly seeing that if Payal had such a chilling outlook on things, so also might all of the other so-called 'immortals.' She felt it wise to be as best informed as possible so as not to be caught off guard. "Who makes these rules? And, are there any I don't know about yet?" *And, what about the monks?* she wanted to ask but did not. A part of her mourned the ones she knew must be dead. And, an even larger part of her regretted not pushing the issue about turning back to help. She did not want to think about it, but the image kept springing to mind just as she thought she had pushed it from her consciousness. <><><><><> [GM] "Any place where mortals worship is holy ground," Payal says. "No one knows where the rules come from. The first immortals, perhaps. Which rules did Geoffrey tell you about?" "The most important is the rule against fighting on holy ground. But all rules are open to interpretation, don't you see?" She smiles. "There are some immortals who would not take any aggressive actions whatsoever on holy ground. But as you can see, I have not been struck down by lightning. Because we can sense the Quickening there, though, I think it *would* be unwise to take a head there. No one knows what might happen." "Duels between immortals must be fought face to face, one to one. I know of immortals who have violated that rule. They are inevitably slain by other immortals." "Involving mortals is....strongly discouraged. Though not always avoidable. But none of us wants our existence to be revealed to the world." "And of course," she smiles silkily at you again, "it is considered most unsporting to kill the newly reborn. But if someone does slay a fledgling, it is up to whomever is offended by it to avenge her." "You need to worry less about the Rules, and more about basic survival." In Gloucester, you stop just long enough to purchase some boots. Payal also lets you buy a sweater, saying somewhat ominously that the weather is cold this time of year. Then you continue on....not taking an automobile, or the train, but on foot. Payal sets a hard pace. Despite her shorter stride, you have trouble keeping up with her. You are sweating and getting short of breath while the diminutive Indian woman seems to scarcely be exerting herself. Perhaps because of that supernatural healing factor, your feet take a long time to get sore, but eventually they do. If not for your flesh's amazing ability to heal itself, you'd no doubt have blisters, and raw soles and heels. Payal has led you across farmlands and through small patches of woods, and generally stayed off the roads...though you're beginning to suspect that walking along roads would have gotten you to wherever you're going faster. She may be avoiding pursuit (though if so, it seems unnecessary, you don't see any sign that the police have put out a dragnet to catch you), or she may be deliberately testing your endurance, and your willpower. Shortly after sunset, you are just outside a small community perhaps forty miles west of Gloucester. You've made amazing time. And you feel like you can't walk another step. You were hoping Payal would take you to a small country inn, but instead she drops her pack next to a tree. "We will camp here," she says. Noting your expression, she smiles at you again. Her smiles can mean anything from sympathy to "Suffer!". "This is just the beginning, fledgling. I am going very light on you right now. Partly because you have kept up well, and not complained," she notes approvingly. "I will get food for us in the morning, but in the days ahead, you will begin learning to hunt. The hike over the Cambrian mountains will be much harder, though you are lucky, these British mountains are nothing, really. I intend to reach Cardigan by the end of the week, and from there we will be catching a boat to Ireland." She lays down on the ground, with no cover at all, and seems to be asleep almost immediately. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ "Which rules did Geoffrey tell you about?" Payal asked with a tone Elainne took to imply there might be several. "Just the one about Holy ground, really," Elainne answered. Payal had been at this game much longer than Geoffrey had. It would hurt nothing to have some things repeated. "The most important is the rule against fighting on holy ground. But all rules are open to interpretation, don't you see?" Payal's smile was like that of a cobra waiting to strike. There was something distinctly sinister to it, no matter how superficially beautiful the woman appeared. Elainne forced a smile in reply, hoping it seemed as natural as possible. She was not entirely uncomfortable with this woman. She had had patients in the past whose attitudes were so different from her own that acting interested and noncommital had almost become natural to her. She rarely even thought about it anymore. Her inital reaction was usually to nod appreciatively -- be nonjudgementally objective -- and ask more questions when things did not fit together for her. It was usually best to let the other person do most of the talking. "There are some immortals who would not take any aggressive actions whatsoever on holy ground. But as you can see, I have not been struck down by lightning." Payal was continuing about the abbey. Elainne was still trying to figure out why she would want to bomb it. The woman was Indian. They were on their way to Ireland. And, the church was in Britain. She knew almost nothing of Irish history, but she knew enough to know there was strife between that country and England. She hoped she was not going to be dragged into the wrong war. While Payal continued, Elainne tried to etch into her mind as much of the conversation as she could. "Because we can sense the Quickening there, though, I think it *would* be unwise to take a head there. No one knows what might happen," the woman went on. *She wants to take heads?* Elainne noted quietly to herself with a bit of chagrin. "Duels between immortals must be fought face to face, one to one. I know of immortals who have violated that rule. They are inevitably slain by other immortals." Still the woman discussed duels. It seemed to be the only thing any of the immortals thought about -- something Elainne was not exactly enjoying. Why the violence? Why the hatred? She wondered these things as she listened. "Involving mortals is....strongly discouraged. Though not always avoidable. But none of us wants our existence to be revealed to the world." Payal's words rang true in the grander scheme of things. But, Elainne had not the slightest intention of mentioning her newly discovered immortality to anyone who did not give her the accustomed tingle. She had been inside an asylum during medical school. That was the *last* place she wanted to spend the rest of her life -- mortal or immortal. "And of course," the mynx smiled again, "it is considered most unsporting to kill the newly reborn. But if someone does slay a fledgling, it is up to whomever is offended by it to avenge her." Elainne's reply was a mixture of sarcasm and regret. "Sounds wonderful." "You need to worry less about the Rules, and more about basic survival." _______ As Gloucester came and went, Elainne was glad of the chance to get some proper shoes. But, finding their road would continue on foot was a little disheartening. She fought the urge to refuse to follow, knowing well she had agreed to be the pupil to this woman -- but finding her methods less than ideal. As her feet began to remind her they existed and her soles started to develop a throbbing, her attitude gradually began to sour. What had begun as a wonderful adventure into the unknown was rapidly becoming a mind-wracking annoyance. She said as little as possible, though, trying to keep her mind turned to the brighter side of things. Keeping herself occupied with the sights was one way she did that. Much of the land was strewn with fields full of sheep. The fluffy animals would often lift their heads to stare unabashedly at the two as they passed. And, Elainne tried to divine what might be running through the animals' minds as they chewed. During the times the two walked through the woods, she let her mind wander further -- back home to picture the grove near the town where she grew up. She and her brothers used to play hide-n-seek amongst the underbrush. And, the memories brought a slight smile to her face. As the sun began to set and the stars began to wax into view, Elainne's legs started adding their chorus of tingles to those already being sent to her brain by her feet. She looked down at them ever more frequently as the hours grew on and as the moon began to show through the ruddy glow of the evening. Glancing to Payal, she watched the woman's tireless and mindless pace continue. It was a monotonous thing to see -- right, left, right, left, right, left. The woman's pack shifted mechanically with each stride to add an additional swish back and forth with the rhythm, making it more rig- swish-ht, left, swish, rig-swish-ht, left, swish. Her own footsteps were a bit harder against the earth -- less practiced and stealthy. She wished her legs were not beginning to feel so numb, else she could be more successful in altering her gait to make it quieter. Instead, she tried to match the combined sound with a song in her head and finally settled upon a rousing piece by Tzaichovsky. Just as she was nearing the finale of the song and very nearly reaching the end of her endurance, the last hues of burnt orange and dusky blue finally disappeared from the sky. Elainne caught sight of the faint glow of a nearby town beckoning over the top of a patch of trees. Then, she sighed for the first time. She could almost feel the soft pillow against her cheek as anticipated cuddling into a warm bed for the night. She liked the European beds more than her own at home. The blankets so far had been much thicker, and the beds were higher off the ground. Payal halted dead in her tracks and dropped her pack next to a tree. "We will camp here," she announced. Elainne just looked at the woman in disbelief. So close..... so *close* to comfort. It was like a horse being lead along with a carrot dangling before its nose that it would never get. Noting the expression, Payal again smiled. "This is just the beginning, fledgling. I am going very light on you right now. Partly because you have kept up well, and not complained," she noted approvingly. Elainne simply offered a wan smile in return. Her teacher in high school had told her once, "Elainne, you're the model student. You pick up quickly on things. You ask appropriate questions.... not questions about things that should be inherently obvious. You do outside studying. You always try to be the best. And, you don't shy away from hard work and challenges....." It was at a time he was trying to convince her to pursue something beyond the 'housewife' personnae her parents had painted for her through the years. He had always been known for his pep talks. This particular one had been the first to plant the seed in her head about going to college. Payal's words were in no way reassuring despite the stated compliment. Elainne just stood dazed, trying not to look toward the city she knew must be there. "I will get food for us in the morning, but in the days ahead, you will begin learning to hunt. The hike over the Cambrian mountains will be much harder, though you are lucky, these British mountains are nothing, really. I intend to reach Cardigan by the end of the week, and from there we will be catching a boat to Ireland." The heathen was talking about hunting! Elainne wondered if she had heard her correctly. This was the twentieth century. That was why all the sheep had been herded away behind fences. That was why her father had kept cattle. It was why her family and so many in her town had tended their fields..... so they did not have to hunt. It was so no one had to hunt anymore. Despite the bit of excitement that welled in her at the prospect of something new to try, the numb sensation in her lower body outweighed it considerably. She just stood by stunned as Payal laid down on the ground, no cover at all. The woman seemed to immediately fall asleep, and Elainne just shook her head in amazement, muttering beneath her breath. "This is almost too weird to be true. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes....." By now, night was fully upon them. A half-moon shone hazily at her through the lights of the town. She could hear the occasional car engine motoring by in the distance to taunt her. Elainne looked about herself, seeking out a place to sit. Seeing none, she sat down on the ground, tugging at the boots then wiggling her toes in ecstasy as the leather slid off to allow them room to breathe. After both shoes were off, she curled her legs up cross-legged and sat looking at Payal for a good half-hour. The woman's breathing was a perfect rhythm in and out. Her chest barely rose as she lay there. Elainne thought back over the events of the day. Elainne thought back over the events of the day. She wondered if a doctor had shown at the abbey as he should have. She wondered how Geoffrey had fared. She hoped the abbots were uninjured. And, she fought back twinges of guilt at having succumbed to this woman's insistences. Finally, still wide awake, she padded over to Payal as quietly as possible....testing how soundless she could be without the cumbersome boots. She crept as closely as she dared, trying to stay parallel to the light of the moon to prevent a shadow from falling over the woman. She had played little games like this with her friends. This time, though, this was serious. She tried not to breathe except shallowly and stopped within a few yards of the Indian woman. She looked down at her quietly, guaging whether she had truly been successful in getting so close -- or if the woman might actually be awake and testing her. She could not decide. Since Payal remained sleeping without an apparent change in her respirations, she hoped the woman still sleeped. Her attention shifted to the bag the woman had been carrying. It lay within reach nearby. Her mind raced through some possible things it might hold. But it kept returning to a sword as the most likely contents. She was surprised Payal was carrying such a light load otherwise. Her eyes flitted back to the dark-skinned woman -- then back again to the bag. She wanted to know what was in it, and she wondered if she might be able to guess just by feeling the outside of it and tracing the outline of its contents. Her legs trembled beneath her as she considered kneeling to try it. She looked back at Payal, frowning at her timidness. It was just a bag. She did not plan to open it. Nor did she plan to take it. But, she could not help thinking this woman might be very angry if she even touched her pack. She began chewing on her bottom lip in aggravation, peering yet again at the bag as the trembling in her still-numb legs intensified. This was her teacher. This was her guide. And, this was probably the best person Elainne could have chosen to teach her to save her head. Elainne turned her head back to look at Payal and bit back the expletive that wanted to come. No matter how badly she might be curious, she had to trust this woman. If she did not, then she needed to leave right then. She lifted up onto her toes and slowly backed away from the woman, working to again stay as silent against the raw earth as she could. When she had achieved a sufficient enough distance, she let go the breath she had inadvertently been holding. Then, she looked back at the dim glow over the trees. Her hands automatically sought out pockets, checking for change. She wanted to find a coin, something, anything she could use to phone or contact her family. This was about the time she had been due in France. The hum of automobiles intermingled with the chirruping or crickets, lulling her tired mind into a sense of void. She finally gave up the effort of looking for money. She had none. All of that had been lost in the blast from the zeppelin raid. And, the little bit Geoffrey had been kind enough to lend her, she had used for boots earlier that day. Giving one final look at the inviting lights from town, she finally turned away. She wandered several yards from Payal settled down near a tree. With her back firmly against it and her legs bent, she crossed both arms over her knees and buried her head into them. Within seconds, she fell into a restless sleep. <><><><><> [GM] Payal wakes you up at dawn. Your body is stiff and cold, though you don't feel too tired after a few minutes of stretching. "See if you can start a fire," Payal says. She reaches into her pack, and withdraws a very strange sort of weapon. At least you assume it's a weapon. It looks like some kind of exotic throwing knife with three curved blades projecting from the small hand-grip. Then she pulls out another one, and a short sword in a sheath, which she ties to her waist. With the hooked blades clenched in her hands, she says "Do not touch this or look inside while I am gone," gesturing towards her pack. Her eyes almost seem to twinkle at you, and you wonder if she was really asleep last night, while you wrestled with temptation. "I will be back shortly with breakfast." And with that she lights into the trees, and disappears in what seems like the blink of an eye. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Having someone rouse her at the crack of dawn was the last thing Elainne wanted to have happen. Having that someone be Payal was even lower on her list of desirables. She lifted her head off her arms to squint up at Payal, blinking to reorient herself. Elainne rounded her shoulders to loosen up the kinked muscles then raised to her feet. She felt a bizarre sensation of exhilaration as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other and stretched out. It was as if her body was its own master and she was merely along to experience the thrill of the ride. The awakening sent a thrill through her akin to the quickening -- just much, much milder. She wondered if it would be the same if no other immortal was around. Payal's disappearance into the mists of the dawn was not the surprise to her it should have been. She just blinked after the woman, sighing. "A fire." she repeated to herself aloud. Then, she looked to the ground for some wood. She had watched her father light fires enough times, she knew she would need several different sizes of kindling. The first things she sought were tiny, light-weight twigs. After making a sufficient mound of those in a circle of dirt, Elainne looked for progressively larger branches and logs to add to the pile. Once she had that done, she found several more tiny branches to add on top. Overall, she was rather proud of the pile. It was not quite as neat as the ones her father had made, but it looked equally as capable of sustaining a reasonable flame. She put her hands to her hips to look at it appraisingly. "Now what?" she again said to no one but herself. She needed something to spark the flame. She immediately began looking over the ground, seeking out some type of rock that might work like flint. She was careful not to touch Payal's bag, but she mused, "Probably has a box of matches in her bag there and thinks this is funny....." She had not the slightest clue what she might use if no rock became available. That was something she had never considered. Her mind started to tick over what other things might create a spark. Of course, one option would be to find matches in town.... borrow one from a shopowner or apartment dweller..... The more she looked, the more attractive that option began to look. <><><><><> [GM] You find some rocks- you *think* one of them has some iron ore in it. Then you squat down and begin banging them together, trying to strike sparks into your pile of kindling. You never saw your father light a fire this way, of course. He always brought matches. In the stories you heard in school about the Indians (the American kind, not Payal's kind), it always sounded like Hiawatha just whipped out a couple of rocks, clapped them together and Presto! A blazing campfire. Unfortunately, it turns out not to be this easy in reality. You are banging those two rocks together in frustration and about ready to give up when you finally see a spark. A little tiny one. That kindles your hope, if not a fire, and you persist, but you only get a spark about once out of every six strikes, and the sparks refuse to just jump right onto the kindling and ignite. Clearly this is not such a simple skill as one might think. You are still hammering away when Payal returns, with a half- decapitated rabbit, and a couple of small birds that look like they were just about torn in half by her throwing knives. She watches you trying to light the fire, and smiles. "That is one way to do it," she says. "Let me show you an easier way." She drops the game on the ground, and pulls off her necklace, which you notice only now is just a piece of stone jewelry tied to a long piece of twine. "Always have some twine and rope with you," she says. "It is almost as important as never being unarmed." Before your eyes, she picks up a nearly green stick, bends it double tying the twine to each end, finds a drier stick, a flat stone, and a thick piece of bark. She slides the bark under your pile of kindling, places one end of the stick against it, loops the twine in her little "bow" around it, and then presses against the other end with the stone. She begins moving the bow back and forth, causing friction at the base of her little construction. Within thirty seconds, little wisps of smoke rise from the point of contact, and in less than two minutes, she has started a fire. Tossing the bow aside, she says "I know what you are thinking, Elainne. Why do I make you practice these primitive skills? You think you live in the modern world." She picks up the rabbit, and drops it in front of you. "You have no idea how many times I have found myself stranded in the wilderness, or forced by necessity to hike across it. If you are a mortal woman, perhaps nowadays you can expect to live your entire life in a comfortable cocoon, with modern amenities. But you cannot depend on such things. I do not spurn new inventions, not at all. But mortals today, especially Europeans, love their technology too much. There are certain basic survival skills that will serve you in any time and any place. And something as simple as knowing how to start a fire without matches-" she smiles knowingly at you again, "is a skill you will thank me for teaching you, if you ever have to use it, just once." "Now, let us see how well your doctor's skills serve you in skinning and gutting this rabbit." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She watched Payal light the fire with interest. It made sense scientifically. She was almost ashamed she had not thought of it herself. She would be sure to get the twine and a rock at some point in the future. Right now, she was too embarassed to admit she had been bested. But, she watched every minute move the woman made, trying to be certain she would be able to repeat even the slightest nuances if she had to repeat the steps. Next, Elainne looked down at the freshly slain rabbit near her feet and grimaced very faintly. It was not that she had a weak stomach. She had one of the strongest of anyone she knew. But, the poor bunny looked just like the rabbit her town had used this year for the annual easter egg hunt. They always had a bunny on hand for the kids to pet before the race for the goodies. She swallowed once, then bent over to pick it up by its hind legs. She raised it while standing then held it at eye level, trying to decide how she might begin. Refocusing back on Payal, she then nodded to the weapons where they lay. "Do you mind if I use one of those for this?" <><><><><> [GM] Payal laughs. "Those are throwing knives, not very efficient for skinning a rabbit." She reaches into her boot, and pulls out a large knife, which you'd think would be uncomfortable, wedged against her calf as she walks, but you never noticed it before. Payal is showing quite a talent for producing things- especially weapons- that you didn't notice before, and you're usually very observant about little details like that. She tosses the knife to you, nods approvingly when you catch it. (Of course it was still sheathed.) "You are a quick learner, and your reflexes are good." "When we reach the mountains, we will begin your training as a warrior." She sits down cross-legged opposite the fire from you, pulls out *another* knife, and begins plucking and dressing the birds. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Elainne felt good when Payal complimented her. A smile burned at her cheeks as she struggled to squelch it. The knife in her hands was heavy -- nothing like the small pocket knife her father had let her sharpen now and then -- nothing like the paring knifes and kitchen knives her mother had used. This was a proper knife. And, it was obvious to Elainne it had been used many times before as she looked down at it in her grasp. She hefted it a few times, trying to get a feel for the weight in her hand. Then, she lifted up the dead animal again by its feet. She took in a deep breath and stared into the glazed over eyes. "Looks like it's you 'n me....," she muttered to the decrepit creature. Then, she knelt down onto the ground and began doing her best to skin the dead animal. <><><><><> [GM] After your breakfast (it was fresh, at any rate), Payal resumes her merciless pace. Your feet have healed from the night before, and you're surprisingly free of aches and pains, but apparently immortality does not make you *completely* immune to sore muscles, and all your muscles which have been so brutally forced into unaccustomed hard labor are soon aching in protest again. Usually, when you see people ahead, walking or steering a horse and wagon (there still aren't too many automobiles out here in the English countryside), Payal leads you into the tall grain fields or woods that line the unpaved back roads. A pair of unaccompanied female hikers would certainly draw comment from those you pass, even if one wasn't American and the other Indian. But at one point, you are hiking along a lengthy stretch of road which offers no easy concealment within sprinting distance, when a farmer and his son come rolling towards you from the opposite direction, with a healthy young horse pulling a wagon piled high with haybales. Payal says "Just continue walking. Do not address them or do anything to attract their attention. Pretend that they cannot see you." And that seems to be the case as they pass by. Despite the fact that two attractive women, one of them an obviously exotic foreigner, are walking along in plain sight, the two Englishmen don't give either of you so much as a glance. You hear them talking about the weather as they pass by, and then the wagon continues to bump along down the road behind you. Payal keeps walking. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She could not help but notice how particular Payal seemed to be as anyone happens upon their path. Each time travelers could be seen in the distance, Payal would make sure to press Elainne into the underbrush or onto a side path to take the circuitous route. Upon noting the farmers at a distance, Elainne's eyes automatically sought out a place to hide, knowing full well that Payal would want to again hide them. But, she could see no ready egress for several hundred yards. To run would draw attention to them, but not to run would have them in full view and readily seen. She was surprised at the flutter of panic that arose in her throat as she considered what they might do. But, she swallowed it down and kept her face hardened and serene. *You're starting to become paranoid!* she thought to herself, both amused and frightened at the same time. She wondered when someone might catch up with them about the abbey. It was one of the reasons she did not object to Payal's insistences they stay out of view. Payal interrupted her thoughts, "Just continue walking. Do not address them or do anything to attract their attention. Pretend that they cannot see you." The woman must have been able to read her mind. Elainne just nodded in reply and looked straight ahead. It was almost like a game -- see if you can be invisible. Amazingly, the wagon with its inhabitants lumbered right up to and by them. Elainne did not even note a pause in their speech pattern to indicate they might have paid attention to them. She tried to concentrate on them in the periphery of her vision as they rolled past, curious that they did not even offer a friendly hello to such lonely travelers in the country. But, they acted as if she and Payal did not even exist. She had seen it before. Some people were simply too shy to interrupt others if they had not been acknowledged first. She decided that must be the case here. The two were trying to be polite. As the wagon jolted along the earth road, though, she considered the possibility that the driver and his mate might not have even seen her and Payal. The thought was a whim -- something she knew could not possibly be true. But, it humored her to consider it. No matter how loudly the aches and pains in her body were becoming, she was enjoying this little jaunt across the countryside. The English knolls were divine, and she perpetually swept her eyes across them to try and etch the views into her mind forever. She still wanted to contact her brother -- describe to him in intimate detail her travels -- try to somehow explain to him how she had ended up on a road to Ireland instead of the trenches in France. Every memory for her was like a snapshot amongst a much larger panorama. She wanted to be able to describe colors, textures, hues, smells..... everything. So intent was she on remembering everything that she lapsed into an almost complete silence. The numbness in her body was to the point is was becoming bearable -- despite its cloying at the back of her brain to rest. She just kept her steps monotonous -- trudge, trudge, trudge -- and her body had to obey. She wondered how far from the abbey they had actually ventured. She wondered what they would do once they reached Ireland. She wondered what the plans were to be in the mountains. And, she wondered when they might eat again for the day. <><><><><> [GM] Payal seems determined to keep making you "rough it"; there will be no stops at the inns that dot the countryside with decreasing frequency, nor buying food at the villages you pass by. Whether it's to avoid leaving a trail of witnesses, or to teach you survival skills, or both, the only people you see are farmers, at a distance in their fields, or occasional travelers on the road, and Payal doesn't need to repeat the "pretend to be invisible" trick again that day. At the end of the day, you see the Cumbrian Mountains looming ahead. Payal chooses a spot in the woods, and makes a fire. Your muscles are less tired than the night before. Payal grabs you before you can sit down. "Drop your pack," she says, doing the same. "But now you will begin learning to fight." She paces a few steps away, then turns to face you again. She stands with her arms akimbo, hips canted, head tilted, examining you. "Have you ever been in a fight, Elainne? Struck someone a hard blow, or been seriously hit yourself? Not just a slap, or pushing and shoving such as children do, but real fighting?" <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Elainne was becoming ever more amazed by this woman from India. The lady was tireless. They had marched all day, yet Payal still wanted to fight! Elainne assumed what she thought might be a proper fighting stance, weary but not willing to admit it. The woman had asked if she had ever been in a fight. The obvious answer was no. She certainly had been in scuffles with her brothers. She figured nearly everyone she knew had rough-housed and fought their siblings. There had been one instance during medical school when a man had tried to back her into a corner at a bar. She had reacted then in fear -- so surprised was she by his attack, it had taken her what seemed precious seconds to react. She could still recall the event in vivid detail. The man had been asking her to dance with him, and she had repeatedly declined. The male friends in her class chided her about her timidness, so she decided to prove them wrong by finally dancing with the man. She recalled his name was Jason -- nothing sinister in that. And, he actually danced very well, far better than her own halting steps. She had never learned to dance properly in her youth. Were it not for a small semblance of innate balance, she might have spent the entire dance stepping on his toes. As it were, she spent it instead trying to avoid his toes and make hazarding guesses about which direction he might move next. Following the dance, she had nervously tried to thank him and leave to rejoin her friends. But, the man had taken her hand to lead her away -- quite insistent. She had dated before, but it had always been people she knew previously. She hadn't the slightest clue how to deal with this relative stranger. Thus, she followed -- wanting ever so badly to let go the hand -- but unable to do so through her fear. She simply retained the plastered smile and allowed him to keep her in tow. He took her to a corner, settling her into a booth before sliding in next to her. Immediately, his arm had found its way around her shoulders. The sticky warmth from their recent dance oozed through his shirt and hers to settle against her skin. He wasted no time once they were out of sight from her friends and leaned in to kiss her. She backed toward the wall as quickly as she could, trying to avoid him, speechless by his boldness. The color washed from her face to make her appear a ghost. Her head thudded against the wall behind her, leaving her no room to escape -- then his wet lips sealed against hers and tugged lightly. She nearly cried out, so frightened she was by his lack of invitation. Then, something had snapped inside her. It had been like a volcano waiting to erupt. Where her hand had been lying against the table, pinched white by her stress -- it suddenly came swiping in a wide round- house to lay into the side of his head in a hard punch. She nailed him straight in the ear. He fell backwards, yelping, and grasping at his bruised ear and ego.....and gave her the most hurt of expressions. But, she hadn't cared. Her face had contorted into one of rage -- and she had lifted both legs onto the bench to kick him as hard as she might in the abdomen. It was fast enough, he was caught entirely off guard and fell in a heap on the floor, moaning and cursing at the same time. By then, her friends had come running -- ashamed they had encouraged her to dance with the man -- and concerned about their friend. They escorted the injured Jason to the other side of the room, and swept into the booth to comfort Elainne. Elainne had been trembling violently, consumed with the surges of rage that had engulfed her so wholly. As she recalled the event, she looked hard at Payal. "No. I've never fought anyone before." It was almost a lie, but she didn't care. If Payal believed her a weakling and clueless, she might be able to learn more. Plus, one fight with some unknown man hardly constituted 'experience.' She watched Payal's stance carefully, wishing the tiredness would leave her bones so she could better concentrate. Then, she waited. <><><><><> [GM] She nods. "It is not your fault. Women are almost never trained to fight." "Try to hit me," she says. Then, as if to provide you incentive, she steps forward and backhands you across the face, so quickly you didn't even have time to try to block. It's not a particularly hard blow, but it stings, and the shock of it causes an immediate flare of anger. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ The quick action of Payal was enough to stun Elainne. "Ow," her soft voice intoned automatically before she had a chance to hold it back. She had tried to back up -- but too late. The blow made her ears ring, and her hand lifted to rub the spot briefly. She scowled at the woman, lowering her head to peer at her warily. She had had plenty of tussles with her brothers that she immediately braced herself for another attack. But, her mother had bred out of her most of the drive to immediately retaliate. She just stood still, alert and tense. She wanted to think -- not react. But, the anger was welling in her despite her best efforts to keep it at bay. Elainne let her gaze dart down to the woman's chest -- then back up into her eyes again. She needn't ask why Payal had hit her. That much was obvious. But, she was dealing with someone far keener than she with regard to fighting. And, the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself. Additionally, she had no desire to come out of this injured. Immortal or no -- pain was pain. The long journey over the countryside had made her well aware that dying did not get rid of the pain. She was not quite sure what to do with her hands. They felt unnatural dangling at her sides, so she raised them reflexively. May as well try to be ready for another attack. She felt like a typical street punk -- and even imagined how silly she might look if they were instead in town rather than Britain's countryside. She did not attempt to hit Payal, though. Instead, she just held ready -- watching -- trying not to laugh at how utterly bizarre the present predicament suddenly seemed. The real question was whether any laugh would be out of humor -- or terror. The smack had been the thing to finally bring her to an immediate and startling realization. This was _real_. She was going to learn to fight..... for her life. Or rather, she would learn to keep her head. Up until that point, she had let herself play along with things. The initial explosion -- waking up charred and naked with soot caked in her lungs -- Geoffrey's insistences she had truly died -- the abbot's similar insistences -- the ready healing of her lip when she chewed it -- the Quickening -- and moreso, the strength of the Quickening when both Annafyn and Payal were nearby, as opposed to the weaker feel from Geoffrey -- and the bombings...... It all fit snugly into place with the one single blow. A ripple of terror flitted through her, and she sucked in a full breath, then held it. Never did she let her eyes leave Payal as she suddenly grew deathly serious. "Try to hit me," the Indian temptress had said. She remained immobile and let the tingle of the Quickening seep into her bones as she tried to divine how she might possibly 'hit' this immortal warrior. <><><><><> [GM] [Actually, Geoffrey's Quickening did not feel "weaker", that Elainne could tell.] "I said try to hit me!" Payal repeats, as you stand there. "This is not a game, fledgling." She steps forward, and her hands move in a blur. This time it is not a backhanded slap, but a full blow with her fist, and with more strength than you would have imagined the small Indian woman had in her. You feel teeth loosen this time. And before you can react, she spins and sends you flying through the air with a kick to your stomach. You land hard, and curl into a ball, gasping for breath. Payal walks over, and kneels next to you. She lays a hand on your shoulder. Her voice is surprisingly gentle. "I will never hurt you out of cruelty, Elainne, and I will never hurt you unnecessarily so long as you are doing your best. But you *must* accustom yourself to fighting as if you are deadly serious. That means part of your training will involve getting used to being hit...becoming accustomed to the pain, so you can continue fighting despite it. More importantly, you must be able to strike, without hesitation or remorse." While she speaks, the pain in your jaw fades, but you still taste blood in your mouth. Your breath comes back more slowly. "Right now I am just trying to break down the barriers you have erected, as a woman, against doing violence. Your training will be much harder once we begin using weapons." "Now, get up, and try to hit me." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ "This is not a game, fledgling." Payal was chiding her now, which made Elainne's anger simmer ever more tangible beneath the surface. Then again came the flash of quick pain -- this time much more severe. Elainne had been punched full-force in the face then knocked backward. She reeled, unable to stand straight from the swift jolt to her belly. She groaned then looked up at the woman, holding her abdomen as the pain subsided. Blood oozed balefully from a crack in her lip, taunting her. She let her tongue rove over the spot where it nicked the loose tooth and made her wince. Payal face shimmered before her as the woman knelt. She could feel the same hand on her shoulder as had just sent her spinning. Elainne met the woman's eyes coldly. What she saw there surprised her -- it was kindness. "I will never hurt you out of cruelty.....so long as you are doing your best. But you *must* accustom yourself to fighting.....getting used to being hit.....to the pain, so you can continue fighting despite it.....you must be able to strike, without hesitation or remorse." She wanted to hit back. But, it was like chains held her in place. So many years had wrought them to her -- each link welded ever more tightly by her years in school. She had learned her lesson well. Violence was for men. She opened her jaw slowly -- then closed it again to convince herself it still fit together properly. Then, she opened it once or twice more for good measure as the lurid salt of her own blood gelled on her tongue. She did not even want to think about the tooth that had broken loose. She only hoped the rules that applied to her lip also held true for her teeth. She cowered, trying to feel brave despite the everpresent desire to simply scream and escape. How had she gotten herself into this?! "Right now I am just trying to break down the barriers you have erected, as a woman, against doing violence." It was like an echo of her own thoughts. Payal knew well her troubles with striking a blow. Yet, she had overcome the stereotypes to go to medical school. How was this so different? The thoughts flickered through her mind like an avalanche -- all jumbled together, yet somehow clear to her. "Your training will be much harder once we begin using weapons." It was *different* because she had no idea where to begin. School was simple. You just read, and everything fell into place. Fighting meant a world of emotion -- a world of hatred and anger. She loved to learn, to read, to turn each page and find something ever more new to tuck away into the recesses of her mind. It was something her younger brother also had learned to love in his roamings through classic literature. Payal was asking her to open up the dark side of herself -- to let it have free reign over her so she could fight. The trick would be learning how to keep it in check. She swallowed the bit of blood still in her mouth, grimacing at its bitterness. "Now, get up, and try to hit me." She was not yet ready to give in entirely. That would be something borne of time. But, with Payal's command came the sensation of a link being torn asunder. And, with that, she balled her hand into a fist and swung it toward Payal with all her might -- aiming for the woman's face. <><><><><> [GM] Payal holds a hand up and you fist slaps right into her palm. She closes her fingers around it and pulls you to your feet. "Not a bad attempt," she says, "but when given a choice, choose the position from which you will attack with more care." "Now, try again." For the next five minutes, you follow Payal around in a widening circle, swinging with all your might, but failing to connect. She ducks, dodges, or blocks all your punches, but exhorts you to keep trying. Now and then her hand will snap out and catch you under the eye, or jab you in the solar plexus with stiffened fingers, or her foot will lash out at an ankle or knee. Once, she kicks your knee hard enough to shatter the kneecap, and you topple to the side, unable to contain a cry of pain. But it diminishes to a manageable level quickly, and thanks to your immortal healing ability, you're able to stand again in mere seconds. When you become winded and start to slow down, Payal steps in and belts you across the face again. This time, you *see* teeth flying. And she does not come to comfort you when you collapse to the ground with a mouthful of blood, just waits for you to get up again. "The moment you begin to tire, and start to show weakness, is the moment your opponent will take your head," she says. As you stand shakily and try to resume a combat stance, she adds with ironic reassurance, "Teeth grow back in overnight." She said she would never hurt you unnecessarily, but she seems to regard an awful lot of pain as necessary. The next ten minutes seems to last years- you know you are supposed to be fighting back, but after the first few blows all you can do is cringe and hold your fists up in a futile attempt to ward off her punches and kicks, coming lightning-fast. Again and again she strikes you, on the elbow, in the side of the head, staggering you with a brachial stun to the neck, then crushing your foot with a heel stomp. A shot to the kidneys, a kick that snaps your knee sideways, a finger-jab to the eyes that blinds you, so you can't even see the blows that follow, just feel them, slamming into all the hard and soft places on your body. By the time you are almost too tired to stand, you would be bruised and broken from head to toe, if you were not Immortal. Being a doctor, you know that the heroic fistfights of countless dime novels and boys' tall tales are exaggerated nonsense....it is more than possible for a single punch to the face to do permanent damage, and only someone inhumanly tough or ridiculously lucky could take the kind of beating you've taken tonight and not be crippled for life. But here you stand, panting, covered with sweat and blood, with the fading memory of dozens of abrasions and fractures still making your body tingle unpleasantly all over, but every time she breaks something, you heal completely, just in time for her to smash something else. And only once did you land a punch on her, and it was just a glancing blow to the ribs that she barely seemed to notice. Feeling pathetically inept, and also about ready to fall to your knees and let her beat you to death rather than continue, you are shocked when she finally lets the tenseness go out of her stance, smiles, and comes forward to embrace you. "That was splendid, Elainne," she says, and lets you slowly sink to the ground. She backs away, to hold you at arms' length, and strokes your hair. "For a sheltered Western woman with no training and no experience in fighting, you did very well indeed. Most men would have curled up into a ball and begged for mercy before now." "That may have seemed harsh, but our immortality means we do not have to hold back in training. And that is an advantage you will appreciate, as you will have to catch up to enemies with centuries more experience than you." Your clothes are torn and blood-stained....you can taste dried blood caked on your lips, covering your mouth and chin. More than anything else, right now you'd like to find a hot bath and then slide under soft covers. Instead, Payal moves a few feet away and leans against a tree. "You can clean yourself off in that stream a hundred yards to the west," she says, jerking a thumb in that direction. "Then get some sleep, we will reach the mountains tomorrow." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ The world had gone a murky, hazy gray. She stared forward, trying to get a fix onto Payal when the woman's fingers came jabbing into her eyes like pokers off a fire. She had taken the beating up until then with a macabre and stony silence, fighting to stay standing, struggling to get a hit in at the quick and ready fighter whose every move seemed like lightning compared to her own inept motions. As the world went black, she cried out. And, she stopped flailing, trying to listen where Payal might be standing. But, letting up on her guard was the worst thing she could do as the beating intensified. No matter what she tried -- no matter where she aimed -- the punches kept coming. And, the kicks and jabs kept finding their mark. Somehow, the miraculous healing again brought her ability to see back - - just as it straightened her broken bones and reshaped her smashed face. She was being pummelled so handly, she could no longer deny her reality. As she could see Payal's image loomed over her once again, the woman seemed all the more intimidating. No matter how readily her body responded with healing; however, her mind was growing numb. Where she had been sharp and keen earlier, she felt dull and sluggish. Nothing she was trying was helping at all. She swung and swiped and floundered about, trying her best to do some real damage to the woman. She was mad at first, but that melted quickly into frustration -- almost to the point of tears. Would it never *end*? She had few teeth left. Her face was a bloody mess, and her hair was askance, as well. Ragged and weary, she wanted desperately to collapse in a heap. She even began begging her body to stop healing -- something -- *anything* so she could end the perpetual and repeated pain. Yet, it continued. Suddenly, Payal stopped. She wrapped her arms around Elainne in a tight embrace and offered a compliment. Elainne could do nothing but wilt, glad of the strong arms to hold her. She felt she had no will left. And, she did not even care. "Most men would have curled up into a ball and begged for mercy before now." Elainne just let her eyes lift to meet Payal's -- hoping her glance said the words she could not find the strength to say. She *wanted* to be one of those men just now -- curled up and pleading -- wounded and defeated. She forced a cheesy half-grin. "Yeah, well.... glad I'm not a man, then." The words sounded dry, but the mark of sarcasm was stamped on them boldly. She swayed as Payal tugged away, frowning despite herself. Then, she tried to stand straight as the last of her bones worked on re-knitting themselves back in place. She spat out a tooth that was caught in her cheek, and wiped at her lips absent-mindedly. Her hand trembled very slightly from the shock. "You can clean yourself off in that stream a hundred yards to the west," Payal said. Elainne let her eyes follow the direction Payal indicated. "Then get some sleep, we will reach the mountains tomorrow." She wandered gingerly to the stream, falling to her knees at its edge immediately. Her hands swept into the water, flipping a torrent of it into her face without a moment's hesitation. She gulped at it as it rained down her forehead from her hair. And, it tasted good. She cared not that her own blood was mixed with the stream water. It was all good, and she drank and drank and drank -- splashing it all over herself -- perhaps to wash away the images her mind kept throwing at her from this most recent bludgeoning. After drenching herself entirely and heaping gallons of the stuff into her mouth, she slumped down onto her knees and let them sink into the mud of the bank. She sat immobile for a long, long time. As the flesh sealed itself up, she started crying..... inwardly for the most part. But, large crocodile tears welled up in her eyes. She almost choked trying to hold them back, but hold them back she did. The salty tears spread out to make a distorted window over her vision. She just sobbed silently to herself -- unwilling to give in. She did not look back to see what Payal was doing. She did not care. A thin trickle ebbed from the corner of one eye to lilt down her cheek and off her chin, staining her ruined shirt. For two hours, she sat like a rock, struggling to overcome her own worst enemy -- herself. Then, she curled up into a tight ball and fell asleep at the side of the pond. <><><><><> [GM] When you wake up the next morning, your missing teeth have indeed grown back in. You feel much better. You realize after a moment that Payal is only a few feet away, bathing in the stream. She is stark naked, and does not seem at all abashed when she notices you have woken up. She smiles at you and says "You surely would have been more comfortable sleeping closer to me, and the fire." She emerges from the stream, wringing out her long black hair. She has a body that most men would desire, and many women would envy, lithe and slender, quite shapely in a compact way. She has incredible muscle tone, and she seems to have not an ounce of excess fat on her. You also notice as she walks up onto the shore that she is not quite totally naked; there is a knife strapped to one smooth brown thigh. And her sword lies on the ground right next to the water's edge, even closer than her pack and clothing. She seems unbothered by the chill of the morning, and remains completely unselfconscious about her nudity. Instead, she begins going through a series of stretching exercises, some of which seem to incorporate combative moves in the motions of her arms and legs. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She awoke with a start, clawing at the thick mud to sit upright. Peering around herself, she was a little quicker to reorient than she had been the prior morning. She was still in Britain -- still without a bed -- still accompanying the Indian woman. She blinked several times. Then, she knelt at the side of the river -- looking into the murky water nearby quietly. She could feel the mud drying against her flesh to create a caked feel. She lifted a hand to prick at it for a moment -- then plunged both hands into the water to splash it over her face and take several long swallows. As she swept the water through her hair, she noticed the other woman. Catching Payal's eye, she smiled softly. "Good morning." The fact that Payal was naked did not shock Elainne. She had seen enough happenings in medical school to offer no reaction. She just stared for several moments at the woman, admiring solemnly the shape she felt certain she would never have. She was not quite sure what the ritual Payal had begun was intended to signify. Her motions were strange and foreign. It was relatively clear they resembled fighting stances and movements -- but she was curious why the Indian chose to perform them so openly while bathing. For herself, she was more modest. It seemed the more naked bodies she saw clinically, the less apt she was to reveal her own to others. Plus, it was something she was just not used to seeing. She did not think less of Payal for being so brazen. Rather, a small part of her wished that she, too, could feel so comfortable to be able to do the same. Her eyes skimmed the surroundings for errant eyes. Then, she moved to slip off her tattered dress -- glad the scars from the prior night had healed over. But, the hair and blood still matted her clothing. She folded the remnants of her clothing one by one on the bank then stepped uneasily into the chilly water. Her teeth chattered, and the hair on her arms rose to attention. Her eyes remained on Payal the entire while, amazed at the woman's indifference to the cold. She sunk down onto her knees in the stream, finally dipping her entire head beneath the surface of the water for several long moments. Doing her best to clean herself, she finally rose from the bed of the stream and slipped back toward her clothes. The entire time she was in the water was as minimal as she could make it. She tugged at the clothing, lifting it up and frowning as she saw how ripped it had become. She still had yet to decide her role as the student. Thus far, Payal had determined her every move: sleeping, eating, speaking, walking..... and Elainne had not complained. But, she was beginning to wonder if she should be more assertive. Having a pack with a couple changes of clothes might be heavier -- but it would prevent having to wear around her present garb. <><><><><> [GM] Payal watches you while you get dressed. Appraisingly, perhaps assessing your physique and your conditioning. Or perhaps not. You can never tell just what is going on behind those dark-lidded eyes. She gets dressed also, and says "I will not beat you like that again. There will be pain in training, but not like last night." "You will have to become accustomed to getting cut and stabbed, when we begin using weapons. Because in a real fight, you may be cut or stabbed by your opponent, but if you do not keep fighting, you will die." "Believe me when I say I do not enjoy hurting you, Elainne. But I feel no guilt over it either. It will make you strong, and it will teach you to stay alive." She begins leading you up the road again, towards the mountains, resuming, perhaps even increasing her unrelenting pace. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She felt a bit uncomfortable getting dressed -- for more reasons than one. It was primarily the sensation that Payal was watching her so intently that made Elainne dress as quickly as possible. As Payal justified the beating from the night before, Elainne tried to recall it. The prior bludgeoning was almost like a dream now -- and had Payal not mentioned it, Elainne might have dismissed it as the ravings of a bedraggled traveler. The mention of it made its reality sink in. Elainne smiled faintly. "That's good," she offered quietly at Payal's remark that the beating would not be repeated. She was uncertain how she could emotionally handle a second like the night before. Payal was certainly strange -- a breed of woman the likes of which Elainne thought only existed in stories. In many ways, Elainne was coming to admire this proud and ancient immortal. It was something that was happening gradually. It was something she had not expected upon their first meeting. But, it was happening all the same. As Payal turned to again lead her toward the mountains, Elainne could not suppress a smile. This was the most alive she had ever felt in her life. While she went to bed exhausted each night, she was somehow allowed to awaken again rejuvenated. She looked about herself, then drew in a breath of air to fill her lungs. As she slowly exhaled and closed her eyes, she said a silent prayer in her mind. "Please, let me endure." Payal was already moving far ahead of her, so she took off at a near-run to catch up. As she came up behind her, she decided to be a bit more inquisitive. "Can you tell me more about yourself?" She was hoping her question was open enough that Payal might offer quite a bit of information for her. <><><><><> [GM] Payal smiles. "What would you like to know about me, Elainne?" she asks. "The usual fledgling questions, I suppose? How old am I? How did I experience my first death? Where have I been and what have I seen? What does it mean to be an immortal?" "I am nine-hundred and thirty-five years old. I was born in what is now Madura, in southern India. The Chola king Rajaraja the First reigned." She sighs, looking back at the distant memories that must be crowding her mind. "My parents were of the Brahmin caste. I was sent north, to wed a prince in northern Gujarat, at the relatively late age of eighteen." "The day before our wedding, Muhammed of Ghazni invaded, on one of his many incursions into India. He was a bloodthirsty tyrant who butchered thousands upon thousands of Hindus, in the name of Allah." Her voice is bitter and scornful as she pronounces the Muslim word for God. "I and my betrothed were both slain. They beheaded him, but for the crime of stabbing one of the Muslim commanders in the groin with a knife, I was strangled to death....slowly." She smiles. Sweet, deadly malice shines in her face. "They thought they were punishing me....but had they granted me the more merciful death they gave my husband-to-be, I would not have risen again, and avenged him a thousand times over." She walks resolutely on. How much tragedy and violence she has skirted over, in these few words! "It was very hard, being a woman then, Elainne. It took me years to learn how to kill effectively, without being killed twice myself for every life I managed to take." "Over time, I became better at hiding, better at choosing the time and place I would strike, and better at planting the knife where it would kill quickly and silently. But it was only after I met another, more ancient Hindu immortal that I learned secret techniques that made me capable of holding my own against any man." She turns to you, an eighteen year-old girl with a nine-hundred year-old soul. "And I will teach you some of those techniques, Elainne, so that you will not have to spend years running and hiding. If you are a diligent pupil, you will be a slayer of men before the first one comes for your head." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She let Payal's story continue without interrupting -- trying to catch and remember as many of the names as she could. The last sentence left her a bit cold, though. She frowned ever-so-slightly, "How do you mean 'slayer of men?'" <><><><><> [GM] "What I said," Payal replies. "A slayer of men. You will be a blooded warrior." She turns to you, her face no longer soft or sympathetic. "You must learn to kill, Elainne." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ The words rang in her ears. "You must learn to kill, Elainne." She knew they were true. But, hearing them aloud gave her the chills. "Is there any way to save your head without killing?" She had a sense that the answer to this question would be the same as the last.... but she could not help but fight against it. She was a doctor! And, she clung to that knowledge desperately. The concept of death did not especially startle or shock her. But, it was so incongruous with her past that she forced it from her mind. <><><><><> [GM] "Certainly," Payal replies. "You can become a nun, and spend the rest of eternity living on holy ground." "Some immortals have tried that.....though even holy ground often does not provide eternal refuge...the Rules will keep another immortal from hunting you down there, or dragging you out to slay you, but the Rules can't stop mortals, who are often much less respectful of such sanctuaries." "Barring that.....sooner or later, Elainne, you will kill or be killed. If you have never killed before when someone who has comes for your head, it will probably be you who dies." The mountains are steeper than they look from a distance. By the end of the day, when you make another camp for the evening, about halfway up the eastern slopes, you are exhausted again. And again Payal tells you to drop your pack and get ready to practice defending yourself. This time, she hands you a knife....and she keeps one in her hand. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Payal's words struck her cold and hard. The woman was probably right. If this immortal would bomb an abbey, what would keep a different one from slicing her head off at his first opportunity. Granted, Geoffrey had been nice enough. But, he had been as new to the game as she was. She mulled over this as they continued to walk, considering and reconsidering her options. She already saw how handly Payal had defeated her with little effort at all. Death was something she had experienced once. She had no plans to go through it again. When the end of the day grew near and her weariness was seeping again into her bones, Payal finally put down her pack. Elainne took the offered knife with a murmur of thanks, hefting it back and forth from one hand to the other. Looking at Payal warily, she took a few steps to the side, uncertain how best to begin. Elainne's eyes danced up and down, looking variously from Payal's eyes, face, lips.....to her body, her legs, the knife in her hands. Elainne's voice was surprisingly husky and tinged with a hint of an Irish accent, "What will you have me do now?" She swept the knife into her right hand, tense with anticipation. <><><><><> [GM] "Try to stab me," Payal says, as if it were obvious. She lunges, and to your surprise, you raise your arm quickly enough to block her wrist and stop the swipe at your face. A cold chill goes through you in the split-second after that, as you realize what was happening- she was going to slash your face! You feel pain lower down, and glance down to see that while you were recovering from your shock, Payal slashed you across your stomach. A strip of cloth peels away from your blouse, and blood begins running down your belly. "The first response was good," she says calmly, balancing herself in a posture of readiness. "But stopping one attack does not mean more will not follow. And you cannot stop to think about it when you are hurt." "Attack, Elainne, or I will hurt you some more." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Her success in parying the attack from Payal left her surprised -- but that surprise was quickly bested by the surprising spash of blood coming from her abdomen. She did not need to hear Payal's admonition to fight back. "Hurt" was something she wanted no part of anymore. Her immediate response was to twist backward, a reaction meant to somehow minimize any damage. With that gesture, the arm with the knife was sent forward. Her grip tightened around the hilt, and she followed through to keep it aimed downward at Payal's neck -- right behind the crook where the clavicle hits the sternum. <><><><><> [GM] Payal seems a little surprised at your sudden aggressiveness, and your surgical precision. Had you been a little more used to handling a knife, rather than a scalpel, you might have actually cut her. She smiles, and says "Very good, Elainne!" Then kicks your feet out from under you. "Be prepared for anything," she says, looking down at you with that coy smile. She lets you rise again, and continues the sparring match. Mostly, she lets you attack. Now and then she feints, or counter-attacks, to keep your guard up...and several times she cuts you viciously, or stabs you deeply enough to inflict a fatal bleeding wound...except that your immortal healing ability stops the bleeding and closes the wound within moments. But you realize she is doing it to condition you to keep fighting even when you're hurt. And rather to your surprise, after the first few shocks, you find you are able to ignore the pain and make yourself keep going. Unlike your introduction to unarmed combat, she does not overwhelm you with her superior fighting skills. It's clear that she could....but she stays mostly on the defensive, letting you come after her. After your first few slashes and thrusts, she begins actually correcting your posture, and your technique, telling you how to change your grip, how to keep your guard up, admonishing you to watch your opponent's eyes and not her weapon, stopping you when you come at her face with a wide slash and telling you that it's far too easy to block such an attack....at first everything you do is wrong. But she is no longer just observing you, she's starting to teach you. You don't feel entirely comfortable with it....she's teaching you how to carve somebody up with a fighting knife, as if you were a street thug...but you get a strange thrill out of it, too. Thrill mixes with horror when you actually succeed in cutting her. She was feinting at you, when you thought you saw an opening, and lunged. Your knife sank into her breast, and sliced through the soft tissue. She blinked and stepped back, and looked down at the wound, which would be a major one, though not immediately life-threatening, to a mortal woman. Then looked up at you, and smiled. You notice, numbly, that she did not wince or cry out, and that she probably could have eviscerated you in return had she chosen to. "So, little sister, do you feel sickened," Payal murmurs softly, while the glistening red wound begins closing, "or empowered?" She steps closer, and throws an arm around your shoulders. "As a doctor, you have held the power of life and death in your hands, have you not?" She holds up her knife. "I wonder how it compares to holding that power in your hands as a warrior?" "I cannot say, not having been a doctor. But you can...." She pivots around, so she is standing squarely in front of you, and places both hands on your shoulders. She looks up at you with her intense brown eyes. For these sparring sessions, she wears some sort of wrap-around cloth and skirt that leaves her stomach and most of her arms and legs bare. The point of your knife is almost touching her belly. "I want you to kill me, Elainne," she says softly. Her fingers tighten on your shoulders, when you instinctively begin to pull away. "You feel revulsion at the thought of killing. But you must learn. So I will let you practice, this once, on me." "It is not true killing, no....but I am giving you the power of life and death over me," she whispers. "I trust you enough, not to take my head before I recover." "So feel the power," she says, gazing hypnotically into your eyes. "Revel in it. Plunge the knife into me....pick the spot, and take my life. And know what it feels like." <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She was entranced, almost, by the repetitive dance in which the two of them seemed trapped. Elainne was to the point where she reacted automatically to Payal's reprimands. Had she been thinking more intently, she likely would have done poorly. Instead, she simply let the knife go where it would, anticipating as much as she could without worrying herself over things. For the time being, she was in a groove, as the feeling would be called in later years. She had no name for it of her own. She just knew the feeling was a wonderful one. It was as if she was detached, watching her body perform the motions while her mind was free and clear to react. It was if time had slowed to an incredible crawl. Yet, she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she and Payal were actually spinning rapidly, avoiding, parrying, twisting, and lunging. The magical effect continued even as the blood oozed from Payal's breast. It was a fascinating, wonderful thing to watch. And, Elainne very nearly halted her fighting altogether to watch. Her medical mind automatically began trying to trace the steps involved in resealing the wound. The base linked together as fibrin respun itself. She was speechless. Just as suddenly, she was slammed back into her body as Payal's arms surrounded her. Her mind recoiled at what seemed pain from the shock. She even cried out but cut it short by biting down hard on her tongue. Yes, this was reality. The blood soured in her mouth, but she choked it down, unwilling to show any fear or pain. Payal's eyes stared placidly into hers. Firm fingers pressed tightly into the flesh of her back, pinching through the filmy thin dress she still wore despite the tatters. They really had stopped fighting. The wound she had just inflicted onto Payal was already sealed up to hide the yellow fat globules that had been torn free and so enthralled Elainne. She simply ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, feeling the flesh reclose. It was a sickly, sweet, and satisfying feeling that rippled through her then. She liked this. The tip of her knife barely created a dimple into Payal's supple flesh. And, her arm was pressed squarely between the two opponents. She wanted to run the other way, yet the insistent eyes loomed just ahead, beckoning her to take the plunge. Elainne wavered, wanting ever more desperately as the seconds ticked by to be someplace else. A desperate scream began in the front portions of her mind. The persistent buzz wanted her to stop. It begged her to remember who and what she was. It wanted her to quit -- to join the nunnery -- to hide, to cringe, to pretend this did not exist. But, reality had already struck. There was no further escape. She raked in a breath from hell. Then, she shoved the knife in and upward, spinning it inside her grasp. She even raised a hand to hold onto Payal's shoulder and give herself leverage. Her hand was immediately showered with the woman's blood. Yet, she did not falter. She let the knife plunge ever further, imagining automatically the organs it encountered on its way through the flesh and guts. As the woman began to collapse before her eyes, a sensation of intense guilt swept over her. Tears streamed automatically down her face. Yet, she kept the knife sunk deeply. She even began sobbing as remorse clouded her vision. But, an even keener sense kept her pushing the knife through the fragile flesh, seeking to end the pain she felt by ending this woman's life. She hated Payal, and she loved her. Love. What was it if not another side of hate? She wanted to break Payal's spinal cord for making her find these parts of herself. She wanted to truly kill her, though, she knew she could not..... or would not. If only the woman would stop staring. If only the deed could be undone. If only she had not begun it just now. If only she had never met Geoffrey. If only the bomb had never landed on the train station. <><><><><> [GM] . Payal's grip on your shoulders tightens as the knife goes in. But she does not look away from you. You plunge the knife in, feel flesh parting, viscera tearing...the Indian woman's nostrils flare, and her eyes begin to glaze over, but still she holds your gaze. You are unable to look away....it feels as if Payal is going to draw you down into the abyss with her. You cannot help but marvel at her willpower. You penetrate her vital organs, and drive the blade in to the hilt...blood is pouring over your fist. The pain must be excruciating. But she does not make a sound, does not blink, just keeps staring at you. "You....enjoy...it....don't...you?" she whispers. A shudder goes through her body. "You can....kill me....now....or do...anything...you want...to me...indulge....your hate..." Blood begins frothing on her lips. Is she daring you? Or pleading with you not to? No, there seems to be a hidden challenge in her eyes....*If you kill me now*, she seems to be saying, *You'll never learn all the other things I can teach you.* The prospect of having her at your mercy sends another thrill through you...and she must know that. All the ways you could pay her back for what she's done to you go through your mind, not the least of which is picking up her sword and cutting off her head. Your upbringing, and your hippocratic oath, recoils at the violent urges she is instilling in you. It's a double-edged sword she's handing you, literally and figuratively. You can take pleasure in having her in your power, but by doing so, you betray yourself that much more. You can kill her, but then you'll probably be killing yourself, because you need her, and you both know it. Payal stares at you. Then she smiles, and closes her eyes....and she collapses in your arms. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Payal's body felt limp and lifeless dangling in her arms. The weight was like holding a large sack of flour, milled and packed tightly by time. Blood covered nearly everything in her line of sight as she stared in near-shock at the woman. Death. Every part of her knew this woman was nothing less than dead. But, this death had occurred at her hands -- not some invisible, unknown stranger -- not naturally -- not from pneumonia, the clap, or any infectious agent. She had plunged in the knife and drained out every last drop of blood. The knife even still remained deeply within the woman's abdomen, just as surely as she sensed but could not see the wounds trying to reheal. Payal was ancient. Elainne herself had required less than a day to be revived after being exploded and pummeled with shrapnel. It would take this Indian warrior much less time to rejuvinate. She laid the woman carefully down on the ground, arranging her arms and legs perfectly at her sides. Then, she stood staring down at her, watching as the loose edges of the intestines began to reform. She stared for a moment then began to pace. She had to keep Payal dead until she could decide what to do. She had long-since convinced herself that any damage would heal again. So, she took the knife in both hands then kneeled by the woman's side. She said nothing aloud, keeping every thought as secure inside herself as she could. Then, she sucked in a breath and held it, wincing at how horrible she felt for even considering what she was about to do. Even as she sat still considering, the wound was already showing visible signs of healing -- quicker than she had even suspected it might. With surgical precision, she cut open the woman's tunic. Then, she used the tip of the knife to make a straight line down the front of her chest. It cut directly through the skin and underlying fascia to leave the bone exposed. There was little bleeding, making this part of her job much simpler. She looked around suddenly, wary that someone might see her. But, the feeling passed as quickly as it had come. She felt light-headed then and exhaled, unaware she still was holding the breath she had taken. She made sure to breathe this time and used the knife to saw quickly through the sternum. Her gut was churning in revulsion, but she forced herself to continue. The only thing keeping her from passing out was the numb state she had somehow managed to slip into..... only just barely. Had she let herself truly consider her actions, she would have thrown up. Using her fingers, she pried open the ribcage. Inside were the layers of pleura and pericardium, easily invaded with a snick from the knife. She was breathing rapidly, hypnotized by her actions -- wondering if what she was doing would be truly reversible. She needed to see it happen for herself -- needed to witness it in its entirety. She let her hand slip around the back of the heart, seeking out the root that held it in place. A sloppy sucking sound met her ears, worse than the sound the cadaver in medical school had made. But, she swallowed and continued, forcing herself to watch. The heart made a few faltering beats within her grasp, nearly forcing her to abandon her plan -- but she refused to let go, grasping it ever more firmly, trying to will it to silence. Lifting the sacred organ on its pedicle, she used to knife to sever it from the arteries and veins that fed to and away from it. Then, she lifted the heart outside the body, very slowly, very deliberately, very cautiously. Now, she knew that Payal was dead. She sat back onto her legs, still remaining in a kneeled posture. The empty heart retained much of its shape, despite the scant blood inside. All the while, her own heart pounded recklessly in her breast. And, the tremble in her hand belied her nervousness. "Elainne, you're going to burn in hell for this......," she whispered, finally voicing her worst fears aloud. She stared at the heart, wondering how or why she had done this. If anyone found out, they would think her mad. And, perhaps she was. But, it gave her time to think. And, thinking was something she needed desperately to be able to do -- without the ever-watchful eyes of Payal staring at her and into her mind. She stood up, taking little time to linger, and wandered to Payal's felled bag. The heart remained clutched tightly in her grasp, and she gingerly shifted it back and forth while she opened the pack that held the sword. Lifting the weapon with one hand was quite a task. It weighed more than she had expected. And, the weight was unevenly distributed. In the end, she ended up carrying it with the tip downward to prevent herself from spilling the precious contents in her other hand. Upon returning, she could see the chest already trying to close and set the sword down long enough to tug the flesh open again. She needed to be sure there would be enough room to replace the heart in its space. She sat down cross-legged next to Payal, letting her mind finally start ticking. The stories told by others said none of them could die but by removing the head. Payal had tempted her to do just that, and she considered it seriously. This woman had brought her to *this* -- something no sane or remorseful human should ever be able to do. But, while this woman was brutal and unkind, she had clear reasons to be that way. She had been tortured and bested -- so many times, it seemed, that nothing moved her anymore. Elainne wondered if she could handle being so cold and callous herself. She believed herself better than that. But, was she? She stared at the heart for a moment then down at Payal's serene face. Would it be what Payal wanted? to die? She might actually be doing Payal a service -- kill her to save her the torture of this perpetual life of savagery. But, what of herself? Surely, this woman had as many enemies as she did friends. To kill her now would be to put herself on the line -- and at one of the most vulnerable times in her life. She knew almost nothing of how to protect herself. Payal was probably not the oldest of them all, and she could squash Elainne without a moment's thought. She let her eyes trace down the open chest to watch the separate abdominal wound continue healing. Then, she sighed. How badly she wanted to see this woman die -- both from pity and hatred and fear. This woman was one of the harbingers of her fate. To kill her now would mean only heartache later. While Elainne trembled even more at the prospect of seeing this woman awaken again, she knew she needed her. She knew it so suddenly and so desperately that the tears began flowing as the revelation came. She still was breathing heavily -- but her heart rate calmed. She knew her course. She had to trust this woman, remain wary, but trust her. This was her only savior in a world of both good and evil. No other would have her if she killed her mentor. All others would want her dead if she did not let her rise again to her place of power. She tugged the chest wound open again and set the heart back in its spot. Looking at it, she almost imagined it beating immediately. But, it did not. That would come soon enough. She reached down to pick up the sword, hefting it now with both bloodied hands to feel its weight fully. In her mind's eye, she imagined whether she could see herself put the blade down through Payal's neck. She did not stop the thought -- just let it continue. It was not a hard thing to envision: a dead, lifeless body, decapitated and still forever more. Looking back and forth to finally reassure herself that no one else was nigh, she stood watch over the woman as she healed. The sword remained lifted with its tip pointed toward Payal. Her visage was purely stoic, revealing nothing of the struggle she had let herself undergo. And, while the sword felt heavy in her grasp, she did not let it go. Neither did she lower it or let the woman away from her view. She remained steady and still, watching every minute event in the reawakening of a soul. <><><><><> [GM] You can see the veins and arteries writhing in Payal's chest, as the heart reattaches itself, like a living organism. It is a slow process....but still supernaturally fast, and alternately fascinating and horrifying to watch. You get a glimpse of her heart's first spasm, as it begins beating again, just before her chest closes. Blood stopped flowing shortly after you made your cuts....there is enough blood soaking into the ground around her to fill several quarts; if the wounds themselves weren't fatal, the blood loss should be. This is anything but a sterile environment. You can actually see a small leaf expelled from her closing chest cavity, as the flesh melds together. If she were a mortal, and by some miracle were able to survive what you've already done to her, she should be doomed by countless bacteria that you've allowed into her innards. But Immortals are immune to infection and disease too, or so she tells you. Throughout, the Quickening buzz has not faded. Even dead- very dead, indisputedly, clinically dead, with her heart removed from her body- Payal is still "alive", in the Immortal sense, and you can sense it. It takes about an hour, before a shudder goes through her, and her chest begins rising and falling. She begins breathing shallowly. Then you see a remarkable thing (as if what you've already seen wasn't remarkable enough)....sparks dance over her skin, ignited on her chest and her belly, coming from nowhere. They do not burn what's left of her clothing, just arc across her torso, and in their wake, what was left of her wounds disappears. She opens her eyes, and turns her head to look at you. Her eyes focus on the tip of the swordpoint, inches from her nose, then run along the length of the blade, to the handle, held tightly in your hands. Your grip is steady, but you suddenly feel your palms sweating. Then her eyes meet yours. "So," she says softly. "Do you think you are ready to take your first head?" <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Payal's words were as silky as ever. Elainne's voice cracked once as she answered. "I'll do what I have to do." Then, she cleared her throat, annoyed that her words might betray fear. She pulled the sword back away from Payal's face, stepping away from her before setting the weapon flat on the ground. She looked solemnly at Payal, working through her emotions even still. Then, she prayed her voice would not again belie the underlying tension as she said, "Let's not do that again." This time, she was successful. What her ears heard was only a flat request without emotion. She continued to meet Payal's eyes, no longer even wanting to look away but instead to meet things head-on. She had beaten down the better part of her fear. Or..... she at least felt confident enough to convince herself of it..... even if not anyone else. She had no idea if Payal had the slightest inkling of what had just transpired. She did not care. All she knew was that she had done what was needed to prove her very last doubt unfounded. She needed no more proof. <><><><><> [GM] Payal shows no sign of relief when you put the sword down. She rises nimbly and silently to her feet, then looks down at her bare chest, covered with blood. She puts a hand over her heart, then looks back at you. She steps towards you and says "What did you do?", softly, but there is a touch of menace in her voice this time. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She meets the woman's gaze straight-on. "I killed you, as you asked." <><><><><> [GM] Payal walks in a slow circle around you, her gaze pinning you to the spot where you stand, snake-like. "Is that all?" she asks. She raises her hand to touch her breast again, her fingers pressing against the spot over her heart. A half-naked demoness covered with gore. "And....how did it feel?" she asks. She smiles, with blood-spattered lips. "Did you enjoy it" <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ She sensed the catty way Payal was trying to probe her emotions by asking repeated questions. Payal seemed to be getting some type of devillish enjoyment out of watching Elainne struggle. Elainne tried, at first, to keep her eyes on Payal's but finally ended by looking straight ahead and focussing her thoughts. This was a dangerous time. Payal guessed something. And, Elainne had no intention of either confirming or denying her suppositions. She concentrated hard on keeping her breathing regular and calm. Although, her heart had again taken up its racing, irregular tempo inside her chest. She tried willing it to slow without success. She debated getting angry at the woman, spitting insults and accusations -- but she wondered if Payal might actually want that reaction. Then, she debated lying..... but did not want deception after deciding to retain her master's trust. Her mind whirred as she tried to determine how best to word her feelings. The sensation of power had been like a drug. She wondered if it could be at all likened to the morphine and heroin highs some addicts experienced. With clarity, she realized that time was passing and Payal awaited her reply. "Yes." She finally had said it aloud. She liked it. Not only did she like it, she loved it. She loved the sensation of power -- of holding death in her hands and controlling it. It was the same dichotomy as with Payal, though. She also hated it -- hated it so much that the remembrance of those few hours would likely haunt her forever. Already, she felt a deep sense of guilt festering. But, she shoved it aside. She could not think of that now. None of the rules that used to apply could be used anymore for herself. Things had changed -- dramatically. She recalled one of the psychotic patients used for a case study her junior year during rounds. It was a patient with 'Delusions of Grandeur,' seen frequently in schizophrenia. He was making megalomaniacal claims, saying he was better than everyone, would outlive everyone, and would kill all his doctors and nurses. She remembered the surprisingly sane and rational way he put forth his claims. He was not ranting but rather calm and matter-of-fact. He made his statements as if no one should doubt him. In his mind, they were fact. It mattered not whether anyone else believed him or not. He knew them to be true. She shuddered. What if she were becoming like that man? She refused to believe she might be losing control over things. The situation here was different. Any claims she made were true. She had witnessed the healing of a fatal, disfiguring wound...... watched its every picaune detail occur before her eyes. Was that power hers, though? And, what of the blue sparks created over the body? That was nothing she had done. Something much larger was at work..... something she had not previously conceived of...... hopefully something benign. Elainne flipped around to look at Payal, fighting the want to cringe backward. She wanted to change her answer. *No! No! No!* she wanted to scream, but she knew it would be a lie. Elainne needed to see the warrior's face. She needed to know. She had to believe she was not losing all sense of sanity. And, she had to know she was not alone. <><><><><> [GM] Payal's bloody smile becomes wider, triumphant. She raises an equally bloody hand to her mouth and wipes her lips, which only succeeds in smearing the gore. All the while, she moves closer to you, until she is close enough that you can feel her body heat, and her presence threatens to overwhelm you, despite her lesser stature. She still circles, and stares into your eyes, as if searching for something more. Perhaps to compel you to confess...what would she do if she knew you had not only killed her, but cut her open as if she were a cadaver in medical school, and removed her heart? Would she be amused? Or angry? You do not know this woman well enough yet to predict her reactions. "You liked it," she repeats, whispering with her lips very close to your ear. "And you hate me for it." It's not a question. She knows! Suddenly you feel as if she can see into your soul, with her hypnotic gaze. "Everything in you rebels against what I have shown you....what I have caused you to do," she whispers, leaning even closer. She puts a hand on your shoulder, and you feel her body pressing against your arm while she stands on her tip-toes so she can speak directly into your ear. And you feel....not exactly frightened, though you will always associate fear with this woman. But paralyzed. Unable to move. If you wanted to pull away right now, or turn towards her, or run, or do anything, you're almost afraid that your body would not obey you. So you stand, and listen. "You are a civilized woman," she whispers, "and a Christian, and a doctor. You abhor violence. The thought of killing is contrary to all of your morals. Yet you find yourself following me, a 'heathen'... perhaps you even think of me as a savage... trekking into the wilderness, and learning to hunt, and learning to fight, and hurt, and kill. And now, I have shown you your dark side...and it scares you, doesn't it Elainne? You want to go back to what you were before you died....but you can't." Her words are the only thing you hear. "All the violence and fury in your soul is begging to be given expression. Passion you never dared admit to owning is straining against those 'civilized' inhibitions...and even though you hate what I suggest you might become, you cannot help wondering what it might be like. If you might...enjoy it...more." Her lips actually brush against your ear. A tiny shudder goes through your body. "Oh, you are a magnificent pupil!" she breathes. Surprised, you blink, and with that, the spell seems broken. She draws away, slightly, and raises a hand to touch your cheek, turning your face towards her so she can hold your gaze once more. Now you could brush her hand aside, or look away, or turn your back, if you chose to. "I have taught other fledglings before," she says. "Most of them women. Some of them are still alive, some are not. None of them had your spirit, from the very beginning." Her eyes shine, with pride and perhaps something more. "I could break you, Elainne....despite your strong will, I could make you grovel at my feet. I could turn you into a terrified creature, like a whipped cur. I could make you mindlessly obedient to me." "I have done it before, with some pupils. When it was necessary, or when it pleased me to do so." She lets her hand drop, slowly. "But not with you, Elainne. You are too...special. I would sooner die myself than quench your spirit. Even if it means you will continue to hate me. Perhaps someday you will even come for my head." She smiles darkly, as if daring you to pursue that eventuality. "What I did just now....I have done for no other pupil. You held my life in your hands. I have not lived for nigh on a thousand years by placing myself at the mercy of unproven fledglings. Consider yourself honored." What happens next is so fast that you barely comprehend it. Just as her words are starting to relax you, she moves in a blur. Your body is wrenched around and she kicks your knees out from behind. You go down on your knees, hard, and she clenches the hair at the back of your skull tightly in her fist, yanking your head back so your throat is exposed....and somehow, in that flurry of motion, she snatched up her sword and now holds it against your neck. You can feel the sharp edge cutting the skin just below your jawline. "But," she whispers, this time with no warmth, no seductive purr, just cold, hard steel like the blade at your throat, "Do. Not. Ever. Trifle. With. Me." With each word, the blade presses deeper into your flesh, until with your lower peripheral vision you can see a little trickle of blood running down the edge of the sword. "Mindlessly or not, you WILL obey me," she says, "and you will never, EVER, lie to me. Do not test the boundaries of my tolerance. You will not enjoy running against them!" she hisses. And she leans closer, once again almost touching your ear with her lips. "Your lesson tonight, Elainne; if you choose to toy with someone who is at your mercy....before you're finished, make sure they will never again be able to rise and turn on you." She releases your hair and simultaneously draws the sword upwards, against your throat, with a soft slicing sound and a sharp pain that almost makes you cry out. She is already walking away, while your hands go to your throat, sure that you will find blood spurting out of a gaping slash, and that you're about to experience death for a second time.... But it's just a little trickle. She only made a long, shallow cut that barely penetrated the skin. It's already healing. Tension flows out of you in a wave, threatening to leave you collapsed nerveless on the ground. <><><><><> ~~ Elainne ~~ Elainne's fingers traced idly over the fresh wound from Payal's sword sliding over the newly spilt blood. Meanwhile, her stomach growled angrily with emotion. She felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of relief as she watched the temptress sacheting away. The last several moments had required an intense amount of will for her, enough that she now was diaphoretic and gasping for breath. She had not realized until then how utterly helpless Payal made her feel. She wondered if it was that sensation of helplessness that made her hate the woman so. She swallowed several times to ensure everything inside was still intact. Then, Elainne lowered a trembling hand to support herself as she lifted to a stand. Oh, how she despised this woman. But, somehow this self- same woman had opened her mind like a can of worms and peered inside. What concerned her was how readily she had been read, and she vowed to work on making herself less transparent. Payal was using her hatred, molding it, shaping it to create some type of killing machine. She recognized it for what it was. It was hard not to..... *Think!* she admonished herself. *Just think, Elainne.* Raising to a wobbly stand, she looked across the widening space between herself and Payal, rapidly growing resolute. One hand trailed upward to trace the spot where blood had just flown moments before. She could not help but convince herself the wound at her throat had fully healed. "Damn you," she murmured, not intending Payal to hear but also not making a grand attempt to prevent it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she worried that Payal felt she had 'toyed' with her. She had not considered how Payal might react until well after the heart had been pumping again and her eyes nigh reopening. For herself, her actions had been as much a clinical deed as a deed of necessity. She envisioned herself in Payal's position and nearly collapsed again as a wave of nausea swept through her. Had someone cut out her own heart, she might not have been so kind. She had thus far not much considered the ramifications of her actions. And while she suspected Payal's worries were far worse than any truth, she stole away her thoughts of the incident anyway. As the tremor settled into her bones, she looked down at herself, appraising the tattered, scant clothing. They appeared nothing more than simple strips of used fabric -- soaked with old, dried blood. Her typical proud stance was gone as she lifted only her eyes this time to watch Payal. Indeed, this would be a battle of wits -- and moreso, of mind, body, and soul. She did not like the antagonistic relationship the two were locked into but could think of no way to end it without subjugating herself further. Thus, she sulked quietly for a moment before trudging away from her spot toward a thicker grove of trees. Someplace behind it, she knew there must be water. And, she set off with but one thing in mind: washing the filth of her deed from herself. She felt in a trance as her vision began tunnelling, but that did not matter. She simply followed where her feet lead, emptying her mind of everything -- past, present, and future. The faint tremble remained in her hand as she lifted it each time to push leaves from the path.