Only a few more steps and she entered the darkness of the old well. The gates were open, torn ajar, partially unhinged by a brutal force, the source of which Malabeth only could imagine. She shook her head. "No, better not think about this now." She could feel her mouth dry as she stepped into the secluded place where the old well should be. As soon as she passed the unhinged gates she could hear a sound, that should not belong here. Rushing water.

Malabeth gasped. She had problems piercing the darkness beyond. Even her darkvision could not help her. The thundering booms were very close now, though, and she could hear them clear. Those were not the sound of an earthquake, but indeed  the resonance huge drums would produce. Then she stopped.  Malabeth's breath stopped for a moment. Her thoughts stopped. Her heart stopped.
For a long silent moment Malabeth simply stared unable to grasp what she was seeing.

In between the five dark holes, that peeled out of the darkness and she knew were the wells, two drums were arranged in a construction of bars holding them in a vertical position. In front of each drum a dark humanoid figure stood, with a mighty beater in their hands, too big to hold it with one hand, the end rounded and covered by soft fur to create a softer impact, a more well-rounded sound, which in the end results in that terrible thunder Malabeth has heard all the time. So close now, it was deafening and disorienting.

She couldn't take another moment to identify the humanoid drummers, who had to use all their might to beat those massive instruments, for in the middle between them, in between the drums advanced as a perfectly black creature. She stood over two of  Malabeth's steps tall; Malabeth would only reach to her chest. Her form - HER form - was female with curving waist and hips, round breasts, a defined black body of power and darkness, no fragile  feminity. Her face, though, was featureless except for the eyes and framed by wild white hair, long and silky, flowing, fluttering and licking down her back, like soft, white flames. The ears were pointed and long, erect, the tips on level with the top of her head.  
The eyes caught Malabeth completely. Just as she was about to recover her ability to think, as her heart started beating wild again, those grey, cloudy eyes without any white, without and iris or pupil fell on her and all thought was void.

"I am SHE."

Malabeth heard nothing else but those words, but not from the lips of the female before her. She heard in the rushing waters - rushing water? The wells, were little more than black shafts into the underground, where 100 feet below or more, was the vast underground sea feeding the city with water. The rushing waters though were so close, so unbelievably close! Malabeth started to shiver and wanted to look at the dark wells, bend over their stony fence and peer down to be sure the sea was far away from them, but she couldn't move. She could not turn her eyes away from this fascinating power right in front of her.
And from the corner of her eye, Malabeth glimpsed  waterdrops spraying out of the holes. But she could not be sure.

"I called you here to open your eyes."

For a brief moment Malabeth was blind. Everything was white, but from the afterimage she could see every detail of the old well in a cold white light which stung her eyes. Then everything was white again and in the blinding white she saw  Llryael's fearful face, she saw her spin around and turn away in panic.  Malabeth's heart was racing.
With the next white flash she saw the city gates and two guards fixed on the trouble in front of them, a group of dark elves arguing among each other, distrust in their eyes. A dark female figure passed between them, nodding respectfully. She was not stopped. SHE was not stopped.
With the next white flash she saw a house matron - or a female drow who, judging from her attire, her stern face, and her position at a huge table could only have been one - plotting with her allies. She saw the greed in each other's eyes as they look towards the matron.
The next thing she beheld, was the image of a shocked looking priestess, arching her back. Malabeth couldn't help notice her beauty, even as mortal terror stood in her eyes - or maybe it  was just that, which fascinated her, as she saw the beautiful woman shudder. Her robes did not cover her flanks at all, and only a small part of her left. She staggered and stumbled, her left arm reaching for her back, where a  dagger protruded. She pressed her chest forward and tears rolled from her eyes. Before the priestess of the  Demonspider collapsed, Malabeth saw what could only have been an apprentice like she herself was, not long ago quickly duck slide through  adoor-frame. Her attire gave her away. It was nothing unusual. She knew a few priestesses and a few more apprentices who had died. She had killed two herself....

She saw an army of spiders rushing towards unsuspecting foes, their mouths a promise of poisonous death. A short, cold grin flickered over  Malabeth's face. She tensed, and then her mouth opened as water spilled over the ground. The spiders advanced, but more and more water made it harder for them to move. They lost their hold, were pushed back, soon they were swimming and drowning in a rising flood. Her view turned, following the water rushing down a tunnel to a group  of mages and priestesses who were caught by the massive blast of water. The symbols of the Demonspider in the circular room tumbled and fell, as the force of cold water shook the ground. The five drow fought away from the walls, shouting and struggling, but they were helpless against this power. They drowned. Malabeth wanted to scream, but she realized she couldn't.

And then she felt herself pushed away by the waters. She was at the old well again, and the waters were rising so massive so fast, there was no escape. The ground shook, boulders were falling. She tried to reach for a gate, her hands missed it. She struggled and paddled to stay up in the waters. There were screams all around. Maybe it was good, she didn't manage to grab the bars. For a brief moment she beheld another drow, a young male, well trained, with little equipment, who also reached out. Just as he managed to grab the gate, a gust of water drowned him for a moment and as she saw him again,there was blood around him, and he screamed like a pig. His right arm was coloring the waters around him, his hand seemed torn off. Then he vanished.

Malabeth struggled, and was close to drowning more than once. She flood carried her past buildings, through the city. She could hear screaming, desperate and wild, but there was no way to resist this power. She did not know what happened to the temple. Maybe this was now one of the few safe placed. She had no time to think about this, as the flood carried her into the dark caves. She whirled around and around, but somehow managed to always catch a breath, when she thought her lungs would burst. Then there was an opening in the rocky surface and she flew through the air, and landed on hands and knees coughing, wet, and naked, her cloak had  gone missing during her struggle with the flood.

She coughed water she had swallowed. Despite her own training, despite her flexing muscles she could not rise. Water dripped down her dark skin. Her white hair clung wet to her back and sides. She shivered. She breathed. She raised her head.
The space around her was vast. She saw neither walls, nor ceiling. It was bright. Far above her a dark grey mass, like smoke, but a lot more intense swirled. It was dark, but brighter than any cave she had seen. Massive  lightnings, greater than any spell she ever saw, struck toward the earth, which was rocking and rumbling. She saw rivers of lava gleaming in this darkness. She saw and felt ice falling from above. Winds howled around her, but neither the wind, nor the water, nor the rocking ground stopped her from slowly rising.
The place around her was unbelievably vast. She was not the only one rising. In the distance, but all around she saw others rising, with white hair and dark bodies. Dark elves like her. And around each of them the earth shook and waters spilled from below. And the winds whirled around them. She saw burning wood far away, a fire with  so much to consume. Green and brown things, greyed by the environment. She had no name for them, but they burned like wood, even when they were tall as many elves. And even there were elvish shapes.

"Look closer, Malabeth, and tell me if this is not truly a greater power than that of the eternal dark huntress."

The wind spoke cold and clear. And Malabeth looked. Each of the figures had an aura causing the earth to rock, flames to ignite and wind and ice to mix and whirl  and altogether they covered this vast space. Without knowing each other.

"I wanted to show you this. You know my name. Your eyes are open. Now all you have to do is open your lips to call me."




With another white flash it all vanished. Malabeth was alone, naked, and awake. She stood at the old well. There was no sound nearby, the gates were not unhinged, the air did not move. Malabeth was wet all over not with sweat but with cold water running down her perfectly hairless chest, belly, legs and in between. It touched her everywhere and the cold touch felt more intimate and loving than anything else she had known. She walked to one of the wells opening into the cave far below and the water was too far away to see.

All is as it should be. Why was she here? What had she seen?