The Watcher Above

"Soldeln--"

"Cease your infernal whining!" the Patron said irritably, looking around the tunnels. Sabtlar stood next to him. "Damn it!"

"We're lost then?" one of their two guards asked, shifting his weight nervously. "I can't say I much care for this stretch of tunnel, my Lord."

"We need someone to find the way. But no doubt the pursuit will have the same problem," Soldeln said.

"I hear someone," the guard said.

"Good. Which way?" Soldeln asked. As soon as the tunnel was indicated, he set off with the others following anxiously.

"...and come she slow, or come she fast,
'tis but death who comes at last."

Sabtlar shuddered at the sound of a female voice singing the lines so cheerfully. "Who--"

The Patron gave him a look to silence him. They crept up, watching a lone female drow sitting amidst the bodies of who they assumed were her fellows. She seemed somewhat disappointed.

"Alone, all alone."

The male drow stepped out, keeping their weapons trained on her. She showed no visible weapon, but her eyes seemed insane. "Who are you?" Sabtlar asked. Soldeln remained at the back, letting his son do the talking.

She smiled a little too widely for their comfort and drew a long hunting knife, testing the edge with her thumb. "I wear her heraldry, so you could say I'm her servant," she said, looking down at her bloodstained shirt and mail.

"Whose heraldry?"

"Death's," the blue eyed drowess said, giggling. Her silvery laughter echoed down the tunnels eeriely. "And she's coming for you, all four of you. You cannot hide from her handmaiden."

"Shut up!" Sabtlar snapped, temper fanned by his frayed nerves. "You're wrong!"

The mad drowess giggled again. "She's stalking you. You see her everywhere, a shadow in the corner of your eye. And you're right to fear, because the entire time we've been talking, she's been watching."

"I said--" the wizard began, livid. Soldeln grabbed his arm and jerked him back before he could strike her.

"Leave off, Sabtlar. She's insane, she doesn't know what she's saying."

"...a pale shadow, with two blades," Laelyl said, smiling to herself.

"Shelav?" Soldeln said, glancing over his shoulder nervously. "I never thought Zesstra would send her."

"Oh yes. Death's handmaiden is coming for you. And she's almost here."

The Patron burst out laughing. "Let her come. There's only one of her, and we have the divine strength of Vhaerun to protect us."

"Time's up," the drowess chirped. Her cheerful voice echoed down the tunnels after his laughter. Soldeln's mirth had yet to subside.

The younger wizard and the two guards were amazed. They had never seen him show such emotion. "So let Death's handmaiden come. She'll find her quarry to be more difficult to dispatch than some cowardly priestess," he said, grinning. "But thank you for the amusement."

"Oh yes, Soldeln, you're far more valuable to Matron Zesstra than any cleric of Lolth right now. That's why she has a much more personal touch in mind. I'm not here for you," Shelav said, seeming to detatch from the shadows. "Laelyl, get out of here."

"Enjoy yourself, Shelav," the kinslayer said. She waved impertinently at Soldeln before dashing off into the darkness.

"No!" Sabtlar said in a choked voice, backing up hurriedly. "Please, Shelav!"

"You're a devotee of Vhaerun, and yet you plead for a female drow's mercy. How degrading that must be for you," Shelav said, advancing. Soldeln motioned the two guards away.

"He's already dead. We need to go," the Patron murmured to them. They didn't make it five feet down the tunnel before seeing an advancing spectre.

One of the guards stopped dead in his tracks. "Zilnay?" he said, startled. "How can you be here?"

There was no answer from the approaching drowess, her shoulders slumped and her head hanging forward. He stepped towards her.

"Zilnay, it's me, Phyxzen," he said, extending a hand. The girl's rapier made a glittering arc, hacking into his wrist. He screamed, but all she did was leap forward, then lunge. Soldeln watched in horror as the blade slid cleanly through him.

With a malice he couldn't remember Zilnay ever showing, she ripped the blade out and watched him fall before stepping over the body thoughtlessly. The next guard made a similar departure from living, and now she focused her attention solely on him.

Soldeln's face was contorted in horror at the two lifeless eyes above a fiendish smile. He could see the bloodlust too plainly for his liking. "Zilnay, you're my daughter. You don't want to do this," he said, readying a spell.

"I think I do. But it isn't Zilnay," the creature said with difficulty in a voice other than its own. He froze in terror.

"Zesstra?"

"I wanted to deal with you myself," it said, the smile widening a little. And then the pleasant facade was gone, showing him the true depths of evil and madness before him. The creature let out a scream of rage and agony, leaping forward with its rapier darting and slashing.

Spell after spell hit it, but each one disappated without doing any damage to the monster. It chuckled in its own dry, dead voice. Soldeln was no match and eventually the rapier found his heart. "Good bye," Zesstra said through it.

He twitched and hit the ground. The Matron gave a shriek of frustration on her own end when her thrall was overwhelmed by bloodlust, overriding her control. The monstrosity inhabiting Zilnay's body and suppressing her soul would become an agent of destruction and chaos without her guiding hand. But she thought little of it, not knowing that Shelav was nearby.

Still, at least her Zincarla had been successful. Zesstra recovered her composure and smiled broadly, turning to a concerned Shanthral. "Soldeln is dead. All that remains is for Shelav to return with similar news of Sabtlar."

Out in the tunnels, Shelav turned over Sabtlar's body with her foot. "Figures you would have gotten a blade in the back, coward," she said. His death had brought her no pleasure, only a sense of satisfaction. She crouched down, taking off his house insignia and snapping it in half before discarding it.

How fortunate it was flimsy. I wonder if he did that so he could destroy it later.

"Sis...ter," a dry, breathy voice said. Shelav tried not to shudder and looked up. She almost fell backwards.

"Zilnay?" she asked, springing up. "How are you alive?"

Her sister chuckled, levelling the rapier at her. "You're...next," Not-Zilnay breathed.

"What?"

The creature lunged, sword slicing across the front of her thigh. Shelav cried out in pain and punched, hitting the creature's ear with her handguard. It gave an unearthly howl of rage and slashed again.

Shelav caught the blade with Drisfryn and riposted expertly with Solaxle, stabbing her sister in the upper arm. "Zilnay, whatever this is, fight it off! I don't want to hurt you!" the assassin cried.

The rapier didn't even falter. Shelav brought one scimitar up to parry the blow to her head, catching the creature's sword. Not-Zilnay grinned and pushed, sending Shelav to the ground. The pale drowess landed painfully on her rear and lower back, not wanting to roll on such uneven terrain.

"What's...it...like?" the monster asked, sneering down at her. The pale drowess shot to the side, barely getting her feet underneath her in time to evade the glittering blade.

"Zilnay, what the hell is going on?"

The creature gave a screeching laugh and lunged, dragging its blade across the side of her neck. Shelav twisted and parried just in time to protect her cartoid arteries and jugular veins. The more fiercely she battled on, the more acutely she felt her strength ebb. Fueled by some demonic source, what she supposed was her sister didn't tire, pursuing her throughout the cavern.

It was blind inspiration that struck the pale drowess when it did. Mirroring what she had done so many years previously, she cast dazzling lights right in the creature's face. Shrieking vile curses, it staggered back, dropping the poniard to rub at its eyes. Shelav pursued her half-seeing enemy, hounding her mercilessly. The scimitars were everywhere, biting into her legs and drawing burning lines across her upper body.

Infuriated, Not-Zilnay lashed out everywhere, but Shelav bowed and danced out of the way, summoning her last reserves of energy to continue the deadly dance. Instead of getting behind the creature, she snapped both scimitars into a cut aimed at the rapier, sending it flying to one side. The assassin dropped Solaxle and Drisfryn, wrapping her arms around the undead monster.

Icy cold fists slammed into her ribs and shoulders, but to no avail. Shelav kept her grip. "I'm so sorry, Zilnay," she whispered. "If I had a choice, I would have been dead in your place."

What ever fury was driving the creature vanished, and it relaxed. The fists stopped coming as her foe started sobbing into her shoulder. Shelav's knees gave way, and they both sank to the ground. The drow girl was back in control of her body, even if it wouldn't last for that long.

"What's happening to me?" she choked out. "Shelav?"

"It's okay, I'm here," her sister said. The drowess's tears actually managed to form and fall down to the cavern floor. "Everything's going to be fine."

"No...I can feel evil. It wants me to kill you."

Shelav wanted to scream. She had heard of Zincarla, and read about it in her spare time. But she had never expected anyone to use Zilnay. "I'll fix this," she said, forcing her shaking voice to sound soothing.

"How?"

The pale drowess held her at arms length. "Zilnay, do you trust me?"

"Of course, sister," she answered.

"Close your eyes," Shelav said. Zilnay obeyed without a second thought, and the drowess reached down, fingers closing around a familiar weight. She leaned forward, wrapping her free arm around her sister as the dagger slipped through Zilnay's ribs in the same motion.

The girl gasped, eyes coming open. "Shelav..."

"I'm sorry, Zilnay," her sister said. "Go to sleep."

"Sleep," the younger drowess murmured, smiling tiredly as her eyelids drooped closed. "Sounds good..."

She fell against Shelav's shoulder, cold blood dripping freely onto her sister's clothes and armor. The drowess wiped the dagger off on her own leg and sheathed it in her boot again. Shelav stood up in pain, lifting up Zilnay's body and carrying it on her back towards Yvoth-Lened. She was too angry to be tired.