Date: Wed, 21 Feb 2001 09:39:09 -0500 (EST)
From: Rune Therain <mist_dark@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Powers of the mind: 7

I like to think that I put something interesting into each of these
author's notes, but I'm pretty sure I just babble.  But since I'm of the
opinion that babbling is a good thing, it's almost the same thing.  I've
been working a bit on this one, it just wouldn't come out in the general
speed that I'd have liked.  I had it all in my head and my vocabulary
decided to take a vacation.  I'm hoping that when it comes back I'll have a
nice new tee shirt to wear.  Until then we'll just have to make due with
this.

I would like to thank everyone that's e-mailed me.  And for all those
people that have stayed by my side when I was just starting out the story.
There's a lot out of you, but I can only thank a few of them, space and
all.  Kenitra, Shade, Aeoros, Gavalin (am I closer this time?), Apples,
Dax, Mirage, and JP.  David as well has been a huge help in this story (in
particular the relocation process and generally having patience).  If you
want to drop me a line you can send it to either Mist_dark@hotmail.com or
Mist_dark@yahoo.ca I check both and do try to respond to each e-mail I get.

As usual the disclaimer hasn't changed all that much.  This story is in no
way supposed to reflect anything about the members of Nsync.  If you are
too young, or it's illegal in your area, please leave.  If homosexual
themes offend you, I'd leave as well.  Parts of this story are based off
the RPG Rifts.  All trademarks belong to Kevin Siembieda and Palladium
books.

I'm going to end this as quickly as possible now.  It's easier on us both
this way.  Until next time, Rune



CHAPTER SEVEN



	"I believe that we've waited long enough," Nathaniel said.  They
had just finished setting up camp for the evening.  Joey had insisted that
they find a place to camp before he told them anything about Selvar.  Due
to his occupation Nathaniel was the most willing to wait for answers,
Makyla wasn't as quiet about it.  And until Joey finally told Her that he
wasn't saying anything until they had a camp she kept asking questions.

	"But then I wouldn't be able to keep you in suspense," Joey said
calmly.  "And I do so enjoy allowing the tension to rise."

	"Of course you do," Makyla smiled.  "But right now we're not
discussing that.  We're discussing who Selvar is."

	Joey's face flushed in the fading sunlight.  Nathaniel laughed.
"That would be a point for the warlock."

Sandy watched the entire scene without saying a word. Since Selvar had told
him that his parents loved him he hadn't said more then two words.  He
seemed to have withdrawn into himself, but would still answer questions if
they were directed at him.

"Well where do I start?"  Joey asked to no one in particular.  He frowned
at Sandy for a moment and made a mental note to have a talk with him before
bed.  "Selvar is a Guardian."

"A guardian of what?"  Makyla asked.

"The Guardian of Death," the psychic told her.  He was enjoying the fact
that she had to pull each answer from him.

"And that tells me almost as much as he told me," the warlock snapped.
"Give us some real answers."

"Fine," Joey said with an exaggerated sigh.  "If you insist.  Selvar is a
Guardian and he governs all aspects of death.  I'm not sure about the
details.  His husband and my very good friend, Lance, is the Guardian of
Life."

"Don't you mean his wife?"  Sandy asked quietly.

"Nope," Joey assured him.  He was pleased that Sandy seemed interested
enough to ask a question.  "Not every man falls in love with a woman.
Sometimes men will love other men and marry them.  The same with women."

Sandy shrugged.  "K."

"Anyway," Joey continued.  "The Guardians can't take a direct hand in
events so they get other people to do it for them.  They offer advice and
support, but can't do much else beyond that."

"Why not?"  Sandy asked.

"They have too much power to interfere with normal events.  The last time
they did the world was almost erased."

"I don't remember reading about that," Makyla admitted.  "That is the sort
of thing that would be covered in the histories."

"True," Nathaniel said.  "But not if it happened after you read the
histories.  I'm willing to bet it didn't happen that long ago."

"How did you know that?"  The psychic asked in surprise.

"Well I could deduce it," the priest said.  "But I think most priests
figured something was wrong when they all lost their divinely bestowed
powers for a few moments.  The gods don't remove their blessings without
just cause.  We didn't know the cause of it and the gods refused to tell
us.  But it would make sense if the gods temporarily ceased to exist."

"That's a tad deep," Makyla said.  "Okay, so the world was almost erased.
What else?"

"Well when Lance and Selvar took their positions as the Guardians of Life
and Death, everything was alright again.  But they're still trying to fit
into their new positions.  So they need to get people that will run errands
for them.  Lance already has Justin, another close friend of mind, working
for him, and Selvar has his boyfriend Pyre."

"What do they do?"  Makyla asked.  "Besides run errands."

"They're the protectors.  They're supposed to protect Lance and Selvar in
times of need.  But I don't really see that being a danger.  Anyone who can
wield the forces of life and death with a thought doesn't need a protector.
It's sort of a formality."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"  Makyla asked.  "You gave a straight
answer and everyone's happy."











	The Shaman stood back away from the campsite that the goblins had
formed.  She'd been stalking them for a few hours now and had decided to
wait until they were well liquored to make her move.  She had no doubt that
she could easily kill them all, but it would be far easier if she didn't
have to worry about injuring herself in the process.  She had already taken
several small battle wounds, but they were starting to add up.  A cut above
her left eye had bled heavily.  It looked like she wore a mask on half her
face.  Her violet hair was matted against her head with more blood.  Most
of it didn't belong to her.  She was limping because she'd sprained her
right ankle while fighting one of the Summoner's many demons.  She hadn't
slept in days and knew she wouldn't until she had accomplished her mission.

	She watched the goblins for a few more minutes while she quietly
pulled the silver sickles from their sheaths.  Like her face the sickles
were covered in blood.  In the days since she had made her oath the Shaman
had slain hundreds of the Summoner's minions.  She felt momentary pity for
them, but it passed when she realized they were sacrificing themselves for
the great good of her people.  She would kill every living creature to make
that man pay for what he had done to her people.  Every injury he inflected
upon them would be paid for in blood.

	When the goblins had started to turn in for the night she attacked.
Her speed was slowed down considerably because of her ankle.  It hadn't
done anything to slack her determination though.  The first four goblins
were dead before any of them realized that there was something wrong.  Two
more fell before the alarm could fully wake the camp.  She didn't feel it
necessary to make them suffer.  They had to die, but they weren't doing the
Summoner's will because they wanted to.

	Within five minutes fifty goblins lay dead around her feet.  Most
of them were cut down with one good stroke.  A few had taken several
slashes to die.  She moved around the camp to see if she had missed any of
them.  She hadn't.  When she was sure that they were all dead she began
performing the rites of the dead.  She hadn't performed the rites for all
of the creatures, but when she had the time she did.  They didn't deserve
to cross over into the next realm without those rituals to guide them.  The
only creatures that should go into death without them were shamans
themselves.  After all if you performed them enough during your life you'd
remember them after death.

	After the last rite had been performed she began searching the
bodies of the dead.  She had done this with all of the creatures she'd
killed.  She hoped that she would be able to find a way into the Summoner's
lair.  She knew the odds of finding anything on the body of a goblin was
slim, but there was still a chance.

	"Spirits be praised," she whispered.  She held up a few leaves and
a blossom that she had taken from one of the bodies.  They'd been snagged
on the goblin's boots.  They were from a rare plant that was found in only
a few areas of the jungle.  And only one of them was in bloom.

	A grim smile crossed her face when she realized that her quest
might be closer to completion then she'd originally thought.













	The torches dimly lit the underground chamber that the Summoner had
been standing in for over an hour.  There were three entrances to the
cavern.  One on the level that the summoner was on now, and then two near
the top of the chamber.  The higher two had stone ramps leading from them
to the floor around the outter edge of the room.  The chamber was bare
except for a pedestal set against one wall.  On the pedestal was a stone
flower.  It appeared a pale peach colour and then the dull gray of stone.
A smile touched the Summoner's eyes every time the peach came to the stone
flower.

	The Drow entered the chamber quietly.  He made almost no sound as
he moved among the shadows until he stood next to his master's side.  For a
moment he said nothing.  Instead he watched the stone flower change
colours.

	"What is it Master?"

	"Ambrosia," the Summoner said in almost a whisper.  "The fruit of
the gods."

	"But it's nothing more then a stone carving."

	"For now," he agreed.  "But soon it will be edible and then I shall
gain the divinity I so richly deserve.  With each prayer made in my name it
grows closer to its edible state."

	"Master," the Drow said suddenly.  "The Forest Born is making her
way here.  She is killing every minion she finds.  You will have to summon
more if you are to have enough to worship you."

	The white-clothed man laughed.  It wasn't a comforting laugh; it
sounded like nails being dragged down a blackboard.  "Hardly.  She is
speeding the process up and does not realize it.  With each living prayer a
creature gives in my name I will grow stronger.  With each death I grow
stronger still.  It would take ten thousand creatures to worship me to make
this flower bloom.  It would take a thousand to die in my name to make it
bloom.  She is killing my minions and by doing so making me stronger."

	A smile crossed the dark elf's features.  "What will you do with
her when she finally confronts you?"

	"By that point I will be a god and have nothing to fear from a mere
mortal.  Even a shaman of the spirits of the jungle will be of no
consequence to me."

	The Summoner laughed to himself once more before leaving the
chamber and his servant behind in the shadows.  The Drow listened to his
master leave while he watched the blossom that would raise the Summoner to
a god and that would most likely elevate him to some sort of divine status
as well.










	The rest of the night was spent in relative quiet as everyone
thought about what the events that had happened during the day.  Even the
evening meal was lacking its usual energy.  Sandy had said nothing since
Joey had told them who Selvar was.  After he'd finished eating he told
everyone else that he was going to bed.  He didn't bother trying to look
for Phixt.  The spider had slipped off sometime before they'd finished the
meal.

	"Do you know what's bothering him?"  Makyla asked Joey when the
tent flaps had shut behind the boy.  "I haven't known him that long, but
even I know he isn't acting normally."

	"I'm going to have a talk with him in a minute," Joey said.  "I
want to give him a minute to think before I got talk with him."  He sighed
and looked over to the tent.  "But I don't really know what's got to him.
I would guess that it's his parents death, or that he didn't know he could
change into a cat humanoid."

	"I would guess the later," Nathaniel said.  "He is most likely
fearing rejection and at the moment you are the only stable thing in his
life.  Even the rest of us, as much as he likes us, aren't going to be the
ones that he cares about.  He's afraid of you leaving him somewhere."

	"I thought it would be something like that," Joey sighed again.  "I
know I'm not going to leave him, but he has to know that.  I'm going to go
talk to him, but before I do, will you guys leave him?"

	Makyla laughed.  "I defied my mother's wishes and broke just about
every social law that existed in my culture by becoming a warlock.  If he's
afraid of being rejected he doesn't have to worry about it from my end.  I
won't toss him to the wolves simply because he does something that everyone
else doesn't like.  I'll stand by him."

	Joey nodded "And you?"  He asked the priest.

	"My goddess teaches acceptance of all things.  One of the very
first lessons I received as an initiate was to accept whatever life gives
you.  Death is hard to accept, but it must be because it is a natural
process.  A temple dedicated to Phixt is a haven to any creature that seeks
it.  Those that follow the path of darkness or the path of light, all are
welcomed.  It doesn't matter their race, age, occupation or past.  Tark
will take them in and protect them against those that would harm them.
Rejection is not tolerated by the spider goddess in her temples.  And
priests are an extension of the temple.  Wherever we go Tark's temples go.
I would not reject any because they are what they are."



	Sandy had curled into a tight ball by the time Joey came into the
tent.  At first he wouldn't even look at the psychic, but after some time
he managed to meet Joey's gaze, tear stained as his own was.  Joey didn't
need his psychic abilities to tell that this was one very scared little
boy.

	"Do you want to talk about it?"  Joey asked.

	"Why?"  Sandy sniffed.  "You're just going to leave me anyway."

	"Why would I do that?"

	"Because I'm a freak."  Sandy spat at him.

	"Do you really think that?"  Joey asked.  He didn't let the worry
seep into his eyes, just the fact that he cared.

	"I can turn into a cat," the boy said.  "Normal people can't do
that.  Normal people don't have their parents killed."  He started to cry
again.  "What did I do?  Why is this happening to me?"

	Joey gathered Sandy into his arms and let the boy cry.  He didn't
say anything for a long time, just held him close.  "I don't know why these
things happen Sandy.  I really don't, but they do.  And just because they
happen doesn't make you a freak.  You can't be a freak for being who you
are."

	"But I turn into a cat Joey.  Normal people can't do that."  Sandy
insisted.

	"I know a woman that can take on any shape she wants," Joey told
him.  "And she's a normal person.  She just has a special gift."  He could
see that the boy wasn't taking him seriously.  He decided to take a
different approach.  "Did you ever run races with other kids?"

	Sandy looked at him with some confusion.  "Yeah."

	"Did you see how some of the kids were faster then others?"

	"Of course.  Some people are faster then others.  It's just the way
it is."

	"Exactly," Joey said.  "And some people can turn into cats.  It's
the same thing."

	"No it's not.  Being faster then someone else doesn't set you apart
or make you a freak."

	"I say it's the same.  Did you ask to be able to turn into a cat?"
He waited for the boy to shake his head.  "Of course not, you can just do
it because you were born that way.  And I don't think those kids asked to
be able to run faster then others, they can just do it.  And they're proud
of it, why shouldn't you be proud that you can turn into a cat?"

	Sandy was about to answer, but then stopped.  He closed his mouth
and furrowed his brow as he thought about what Joey had just told him.  It
was a couple of minutes before he said anything.  "I don't know."

	"Sandy everyone has something about them that makes them different.
And if the way to be a freak is to be different, everyone's one.  Makyla
can control the earth, how many people do you think can do that?  Nathaniel
is the priest of a spider goddess."  He made an exaggerated shudder to make
Sandy laugh.  "I mean how many people like spiders?"

	"I like Phixt," Sandy said.

	"But she takes a bit of getting used to.  And then there's me.  I
actually dyed my hair red."

	"Lots of people have red hair," Sandy said.

	"Not this shade," Joey grinned.  He ran his hands through his hair
and constructing the mental illusion in Sandy's mind.  When he was finished
his hair was the same red that it was when he had first come to this world.
Sandy giggled.  "Told you.  Not many people have this shade of red in their
hair."

	"Wow that is red," Sandy giggled again.  "Why that colour?"

	He shrugged.  "I forget exactly why I picked this colour, but I
liked it.  My friends thought it was a bit odd, but they knew it was me."

	Sandy fell quiet again.  He looked at Joey sideways for a few
minutes.  "So you're not going to leave me?"

	"No Sandy," Joey told him.  "I don't make promises lightly, but I
promise I'm not going to leave you.  You won't be getting rid of me that
easily."

	Sandy hugged him.  "Thanks.  For everything."


TBC

Hope that you guys enjoyed it.  Let me know what you think.

Rune