Katerin glanced past the simply dressed giant, to the long hall behind, and the imposing figure on a throne, at its end. She squeezed Brazen's hand, and straightened her shoulders.

As Brazen relinquished his grip, he offered her a small smile, and whispered. "Even if they say you messed up, I don't think you did."

She nodded, fighting back her nausea, and marched herself forward. She did not hear the doors close, but she felt the gaze of her companions leave her back, and she grew cold as she approached the throne and knelt before it. There was a long moment where all Katerin heard was her heartbeat in her throat.

Finally Kul Galysa broke the silence. "Rise," she said.

Katerin rose to her feet with as much dignity as she could, using all her months of training here to somehow quell the shaking in her limbs. Thrones are nothing more than a cheap trick to inspire fear, she thought as she straightened her shoulders.

Kul Galysa's expression did not seem to be angry, was there amusement in it, instead?

"You have done well with the gifts we offered to teach you. That was quite a display." Kul Galysa's voice was strong, belaying no hint of her feelings.

Her tone caused the hairs on the back of Katerin's neck to prickle. "Thank you. I... I did my best."

"You truly did. And your efforts exceed my expectations... however." Kul Galysa looked her over intensely, her gaze narrowing.

The armored form behind her chair coughed, and shifted only slightly.

Katerin did not fidget under her gaze, instead she raised her chin, and ignored her rapid heart.

"My expectations were very high indeed." Kul Galysa's stone expression broke, and a smile lit up her face. "You look so terrified, I couldn't help myself."

Katerin let out a heavy breath, after studying the sincerity of her expression. "What happened? What was that? I didn't mean to do it," Katerin blurted out her words, forgetting herself.

Kul Galysa chuckled and there was a snort from the armored figure behind her throne. It seemed even he was not immune to a good joke. "You bear the mark of the storm bearer, girl!" Her voice was a shout, but one of excitement. She lifted her arm and her sleeve fell away, to reveal a similar set of marks. "Your dreams are strange, and strangely affected, aren't they?"

Katerin coughed, her eyes widening. "I... Yes. I suppose they are." She stared at the marks on Kul Galysa, and bit her lip. "I thought those to be ceremonial, or..."

"Makeup? No. Not painted on. A part of me." She grinned again. "Give your dreams every heed. You have an ability few will ever know of."

Her words chilled Katerin to the bone. But she kept her face composed. "How... how did it happen?"

"The mark chooses its recipient. It is an old magic, not even we know where it originated, though I am sure it began before the world was broken. Those of exceptional ability, with the correct affinities, are given it. It is a gift of power. What you did in the arena today, is one of its facets. Some say it is a mark of the chosen of the gods, some say it is a simple mark of your status and ability."

Katerin paled, at her mention of the gods. "Which gods?"

"I do not know. Old gods, if you would believe the writings."

Katerin nodded, her thoughts wandering once again to Lodyne, and her dreams. "But, did I... did I pass the test?"

This time the suit of armor let out a full laugh, though the giant within it stayed still.

Kul Galysa inclined her head. "With highest marks. From here on I would like to train you, myself."

Katerin gaped, searching but not finding the right words to say. "I would love... I mean, I would be honored," she stuttered.

Kul Galysa paid her speech little heed, but smiled. "Good. Take tonight, and tomorrow to rest, and celebrate with your family. Surely you all deserve some rest. Come and meet with me, after."

Katerin bowed her head, and Kul Galysa dismissed her with a smile. Almost an entire year now, of fighting, struggling, bandaging her limbs and her ego, and she had now seen the Cyclone's fist smile at her. Good progress, she supposed and better than the alternative.

Their celebration that night was a small and quiet thing, but Fykes was overjoyed, for at one point in the night, a few of the dwarves from the battlements arrived with a few skins of their mead, and left them as a token of their congratulations, and an additive to their celebration.

Brazen had been overzealous in his drinking, and as the night wore on he was now snoring soundly on the couch with one arm thrown over its side and his feet dangling precariously over the edge.

Katerin dropped a thin blanket over him and joined Roahn on the wide balcony. In all their months here, this was the first time she had found a moment to appreciate the lavish chambers the city had provided them.

"Glad you accompanied us?" Katerin asked.

Roahn grinned. "Aye. You and the pretty boy are more capable than I thought."

Katerin snorted. "I hope some part of you thought us capable before, or I might worry for your mental stability."

"I had my doubts until you saved my ass on the ship." Roahn admitted, sipping her drink. She turned to regard Brazen. "That one ain't half bad, either. But he can't hold his liquor."

"No, he can't." Katerin shook her head. "I don't even know if he should be drinking."

"Of course he should!" Roahn snorted. "Everyone should."

Katerin shook her head, and gazed out at the pure white of the city, glowing in the night. "I am so ready to go home, and I didn't even know it." She let out a humorless laugh.

"Made up you mind then?"

Katerin gave her a curious look.

"You didn't think of Itrea as home, before." Roahn shrugged her wide shoulders, "I was wondering what you were gonna decide about it."

"Well I—"

Roahn held up her hand. "I didn't mean it as an insult."

"I didn't think I could miss it so much."

"I didn't think I'd ever consider someone so... educated and frail, a friend. But here we are."

"Once we get home, I know you'll be going your own way. But.." Katerin began.

"Don't give me that 'find me if you ever need a hand crap' I already know it and so do you." Roahn finished her drink in one last gulp. "When we get back I'm gonna find a big city, and I'm gonna spend time enjoying the... finer pleasures of life, until I am down to my last few coins."

Katerin choked on her own drink. "I really didn't need to know that."

"Of course you didn't. Your pretty boy is right over there." Roahn jerked a thumb to the bedroom door. "I mean, he is pretty. But he's not my type. I prefer something... large. And muscular." she flashed a fangy grin. "Hairy, too. A real man."

"Roahn," Katerin groaned. "Please, I don't need any new nightmares."

Roahn snorted. "Suit yourself. I'm gonna get some rest. See if I can't have any... hairy dreams." with that she turned and left the balcony.

"I hope you don't see me," Katerin called, with a giggle.

"That's disgusting!" Roahn hollered, as her door shut.

As silence filled the space around her, Katerin gazed down at her wrists again. The lines glowed faintly, but she could dull them, if she focused very hard. And they glowed brighter, whenever she pulled on her magic. They ran from the outside corners of her eyes, down each side of her neck, out her arms and down her chest, before they spiraled and intertwined beneath her ribs, and curled down her legs to the tips of the bottom of her toes.

She pulled on her magic and created a globe of light, just to watch them flicker, before she sighed and released the spell.

She had come here to get answers, not to find more questions.

She finished her drink, and left the cup on the table. She re-adjusted Brazen, so that he would not fall in his sleep, and brushed a stray hair from his face. He would be regretting the alcohol tomorrow, but it was as valuable a lesson to learn as any other, she supposed. She left a mug of water on the table beside him, and made her way to her bed.

It was a bed that she had slept in longer than she had slept in the bed in her own manor, though the time had not passed the same, on her home plane. And she was unsure exactly what to think about that.

Fykes was fast asleep in the middle of the bed, blankets pulled up around him like a tangled fortress and his feet were, of course, where his head should be. She grabbed a stray pillow, and propped herself up so that she did not have to sleep next to his feet. She pulled out her journal and read by the soft candle light, reviewing her notes of many nights spent scouring the library. It had taken her many hours to find what she wanted, and even though her dreams were undisturbed by the goddess here, she had not forgotten them.

Something was hidden within this mess of information, but she still could not see why she was involved, or how. It did not matter that she had no direct answer, yet. For all she had learned had been a great step in understanding not only Lodyne, but the Uhma'zarhin's culture, as well. She wondered if they knew their god was dead, and that nothing but a memory or her remained.

Ali'damia and Lodyne were sisters, and very close, both working on the side of good, until another god came to their notice. He came to speak with them, and learn of their ways and practices. And the three spent much time together, wandering the many beautiful sights of their worlds, conversing and growing dear. But this new god, Odir, became quite enchanted with Ali'damia. And as the two grew fonder, they gained more power from their time spent together.

Lodyne grew jealous of this new god who sought to steal her sister away. She tried splitting them up, but Ali'damia refused, instead insisting that she and Odir were quite content.

Ali'damia held sway over nature, life, and balance. Lodyne held sway over pain, endurance and struggle for all of her followers pain was hers to bear, and though she worked to better the world, she grew jealous, as was in her nature. She calmed her temperament and devised a plan to steal away Odir, this god of celebration, life, and free will.

He was a god fond of the mortal world and he visited it many times, so on one of his many visits Lodyne followed after him, and set her plan in motion. She tried to tempt him, while he was away from what he held so dear. She tried many times and failed, until finally she found him weakened and dispirited, after losing a battle he had fought beside mortal kind. She tempted him then, and he gave in. Lodyne had left just such a trail, for her sister to follow, and catch the two as Lodyne twisted him away from his nature, and his love.

When Ali'damia found them she grew angry. And that anger, an emotion so outside of her nature, weakened her. The sisters fought violently, and in that fight, Lodyne plunged her dagger through her sister's heart, driven by the lust and loneliness she had felt. She had thought only to wound her sister, weaken her enough to remove her from godhood.

But instead, in her already weakened state and with her heart broken, Ali'damia perished.

Lodyne did not mourn her sister, she only shouldered the pain like she did all others, and continued devising her plan, to have Odir as her own. But Odir refused to stay with her, and he grieved for the loss of his love, scolding Lodyne and locking himself away in isolation. His following in the world diminished along with his presence, and so Lodyne was alone.

That once sacred duty of shouldering the pain of the mortal races grew bitter within Lodyne as her own pain overwhelmed her, and it took about her mind and caused her to be sick. No longer did she shoulder all the pain of her mortal followers. Instead she twisted her purpose into something better suited to her whims. She began to teach those who would worship her to spread out such pain, in an attempt to relieve her own terrible heartache. She embraced her pain, and all other, accepting pain as her duty and purpose, to hold, and share, and revel in, and to spread it to all who walked in life.

That was the origin, of this dark goddess. Her story was nothing more than a tragedy, borne of jealousy and delivering only pain.

The histories of the giants spoke of her followers. Not a clergy, but a cult, difficult to unearth and dangerous. Her followers were widespread, but not well known. From the other accords, these Reclaimer's could fit in perfectly with her vision for the world. It would cause sufficient pain, for when the world broke even the trees mourned.

Lodyne was supposedly created after the death of Justice, but some writing spoke of how her creator as one of the old gods, specifically the god that had pushed that first dragon out of hiding and towards the Ihmu'tahd, with such purpose as to spell their end.

Had that god been Lodyne, before she had a name? Or another god with similar plans? Were they one and the same, split apart by time and the flux of power?

Katerin worked to dissect all of this, as her eyes grew heavy. She did not know for sure, and she knew that her break of dreams was only because of the warding around Alkyrindaun. But she thought that the more she could understand of what pushed this goddess' sinister plans, the better prepared she would be to stop them.