Looking back, Malabeth knew she could have prevented this all. The
destruction of her city was as unnecessary, as the punishment she had to endure
now. What did SHE think? Did SHE abandon her? And why?

Malabeth turned her head. There was nothing here. Nothing except the eternal icy
cold, which showed in the clear sky, as well as in the white plains before her.
Tiny bright stars twinkled above her. A black sky with tiny white points. The
moon above her stood half and casted more light than Malabeth had ever needed or
wanted to see. the snow and ice all around reflecting the light made things
worse.

Despite her heavy soft fur-covered boots, Malabeth felt the cold wetness of
melting ice with her feet. Every step hurt. She wore several layers of fabric,
mostly white, with the symbol of HER painted and woven into them. Usually she
would have no need for any of this. HER power would protect her from the
elements. Yet if it be HER wish, for me to suffer here for deeds done
rightfully and words of truth spoken, I shall perish in HER name. The
thought was meant to calm Malabeth. By repeating it over and over she wanted to
drive her away her anger, but it hardly worked. It barely kept her tears away,
and that was important. She didn't want her tears to freeze in her eyes.

"Why did it have to come like this?", Malabeth asked herself. She thought
back...




"A while back I had a conversation with a proud female, a very dark and
beautiful, aristrocratic and obviously well-educated drow woman. At least back
then I thought she was a drow. I heard about her past, especially about the
pains caused by the love to a drow male. I answered that woman's arrogance with
my own, and when I learned about the pain, I told her what I thought of this
foolish love toward a male, an inferior member of her own race. Maybe I was too
open and direct in my phrasing, but still it was the truth of what I thought. It
was then I learned how dark this female truly was.

For a moment she seemed to tower me. Even though her form was slim, not as
powerful, not as well-trained as mine - which doesn't mean she was not
beautiful, by all means she was! - she all of a sudden seemed so much bigger
than me, and I felt her anger in more than just her face, truly a queen's face,
in her eyes filled with unbroken pride and in her sure voice.
I learned then she was the goddess of undeath and passion, Lady Assirra, the
Undying Lady. Yet, I had spoken the truth, when I called her love foolish, when
I called males inferior. Looking at her made it even more obvious how right I
was. At this moment the Undying Lady was all there was to me and only all my
willpower could stop me from falling to my knees and apologizing. I was right! I
still am.

But when I refused and left, I knew we would feel her anger. Soon the undead
were attacking our city and we had to flee, leaving the city in ruins.
I don't want to remember this now!

And SHE was not amused. One week after the city was destroyed and we had
scattered into the caves around, already planning on how to reunite, SHE
approached me. In a vision much like the first one I had, I saw HER, in a cave
flooded with icy water. HER featureless face captivated me, these grey eyes
bound me and her form of solid darkness beckoned me to come closer. SHE spoke to
me and each word was terror and salvation. SHE let me feel her judgement.

As punishment for my deeds, for insulting a possible ally - ally? was SHE mad?
No, it is not my right to question HER. - I was exiled. SHE spoke of a test, but
seeing these icy plains, SHE knows I will die here! For destroying the city - as
if I had done this -  SHE took the powers granted to me, and to stop the
attacks by the undead and to atone for my deeds SHE sent me away with little
more than these heavy boots, several sets of robes, but since these neither
cover my legs nor my flanks properly, SHE granted me gauntlets and heavy furs to
cloak myself in. SHE spoke of a test and of a great chance, should I survive and
prove worthy. SHE said, I would learn.

And still I feel the cold. And I know my training won't help me. Neither my
physical shape, nor my tongue, nor my wits will calm this storm. And still I
walk alone. I fail the see the chance. I want to believe I survive, but I can't.
The coldness. This emptiness. This loneliness. It is all I have now. This and my
knowledge of HER.

I will die in HER name. I may be alone, but what I did will be known to those
who still see. Not even this punishment will stop me on my path.
I will die in HER name. This is my test.





*****





The storm was rising. All around the snow whirled harder and faster than
before. Inside, barely visible, a single figure walked forward. A small female
walked slowly with the storm. The white space surrounding her, made her 4'8"
frame seem even smaller than she was. She was not even a little afraid of the
snowflakes and icy winds surrounding her, and she walked mostly unprotected.

Snow settles in her wild hair which flutters around her head and falls down all
her back in wild curls and waves. The dirty blond color is nearly hidden under a
layer of ice and snow. Her face is slightly pouty, but behind the soft facade a
savage passion hides. There is no mistaking those  lips for sweetness. Her
features combine into a feisty impression. Pointed ears show through her wild
mane.
The eyes are are green and radiate passion, yet also concentration. Even though
the storm does not harm her, she has to pay respect to this great force.

Her body was covered by nothing more than torn and ragged furs, but these were
not wrapped around her to protect her, but fluttered like a cloak, open behind
her back. Around her waist, a rope-like belt from rough leather was tied around
her naked body. There were no signs of frostbite on her warm skin, neither did
the cold make her pale or reddened her texture.
Her naked body is hairless, as with most elves, but not a display of perfection.
Her small size did not translate into fragility. She seemed soft and robust, but
not lumpish.
As her cloak fluttered wild behind her, there was nothing hiding the rather flat
form of her breasts. When she moved it was obvious there was power hidden in her
compact frame, but her legs and arms seemed soft, and there was no hard line of
muscles over her belly.
The form of her ribcage was obvious as a turned-around v, but the ribs
themselves kept hidden under her skin and though her belly formed a very soft
mound, centering around her bellybutton, she could still be called slim.

Her face, as sweet as it might seem, and her body conveyed the idea of a
lolita-like beauty, but her eyes, her sweet face left no doubt as to her age and
experience. She might be a young elf, but very surely an adult.

Nakedness against the snow, form and movement, bare feet sinking only slightly
in, but also hardly melting the snow, this elf defied the elements. She was
sexy, sassy and spunky on the edge of human imagination.




"Home is far away. Great spirits, why did you have to lead me here? These
grounds are not good for hunting. True, if the Orcs were to follow us here, they
would likely perish, but shall we survive without enough food?" Tanya was
lost in her thoughts as she slowly walked onward. She travelled towards Teeth of
the Crystal Dragon, a line of mountains of icy blue in the far distance. Tanya
could not see them from inside the storm, but she knew her way. The seers of her
tribe had given her directions and they spoke of a key to their future. Likewise
she knew there had been much talk and discussion about her parting.

She remembered... The day was sunny, but cool, winter was slowly approaching.
For days there had been talks in the village, about a test that might determine
the future of the tribe. Many of the older elves were busy those days, not
helping with the hunt and gathering the spoils of the forest, fruits and nuts,
but they were busy talking. Not even advice were given to the hunters on where
to go for the best game or where to find the richest gifts of the plants. She
herself was away with two inexperienced young men, who still had to learn how to
read the spirits, to protect their naked bodies from harm, which paths to take
best, and another huntress. A woman with black hair and slightly darkened skin,
slightly bigger than her, more muscular. She was a good huntress, and an even
better lover.

She enjoyed watching her all, aiming the bow, or waiting for prey, she
remembered her name. Jhazir. Even now, here in the cold Tanya whispered it
every now and then, but the memory seemed so far away, even though it had only
been two months. Her village and friends could as well be worlds away. She sunk
back into her memory.

At one point Jhazir turned her head and looked at her, serious. "It is
obvious, Tanya. You will be sent."
Tanya looked back at her confused. "Sent? Where?"
"For the test. The elders are talking about it. Ayeela had visions, and you're
the one who is guided strongest by the spirits." Jhazir looked serious, but not
sad. "I am sure of it."
Tanya turned her head away. She could not contradict. She knew Jhazir was right,
the spirits were strong within her. Some loved to tease her, some hated her, but
few ignored her. If there was a test in which to gain the future favour of the
spirits again, she would have to go.

Both of them stayed silent for the rest of the hunt. Jhazir looked at Tanya too
often, with a yearning, but also very proud expression in her eyes and Tanya was
lost in her own thoughts. Those tests were always a difficult. They could
determine the future of the tribe. Sometimes it was easy, a test could simply
mean if the tribe would move south or east from where they were. Anyone could be
sent on such a test. The spirit of the chosen one would be opened and he or she
would be sent away from the tribe. When they returned, they brought with them
visions.

But when the tribe sent her away, the decision or the results they awaited must
be of greater importance. Apart from the fact, that Tanya was a very powerful
and bold warrior and had experienced the human reaches, cities and castles, she
was on very good terms with the spirits. For some reason they loved her.
A test could well mean death, her own death.




As Tanya, Jhazir and the others returned from their hunt, the elders already
awaited them. It was as Jhazir said. Tanya didn't pay much attention as to who
said exactly what. When she saw the three old elves standing in front of the
village.

"Tanya Tempest-walker." She looked at them and nodded slowly. "You can not stay
with us tonight." The three elves looked stern. Their bodies were nearly as
uncovered as Tanya's own, they wore only rough fur cloaks which had been
enhanced with gemstones, feathers, bones and leaves and in case of the oldest
one with metalwork, honoring the spirits. The age of the elders was more
apparent in the faces, than in their bodies, which were maybe not as full and
compact as Tanya's body or as muscular as Jhazir's, but a bit more sinewy. At
the moment all of them had one thing in common their faces were stern.

Tanya nodded back at them. She fought back her sadness, she did not want to
leave now. She would not contradict though.

"Pack your things and take the furs we have ready for you." The oldest of the
three said, a female with long, rich grey hair, which resembled the strands of a
spiderweb somewhat, and flew richly down her back all the way to the ground.

"What would I need them for? I never feel cold, and for sleeping..."

With a gesture, one of the others silenced her. "You are not alone in this
world, and where you are guided, new paths, new prey, and new chances will
display themselves." Without waiting for Tanya's reaction she continued. "You
will head north to the Plains of Eternal Ice, until you reach the Teeth of the
Crystal Dragon."

"And then? And why?" Tanya did not really expect an answer. Asking wouldn't hurt
though.

"There the spirits will guide you. Ask no more, you know the path itself holds
the answers you need."

Tanya hated it when they spoke like that. She knew well it was true, she had
experienced it before. She suppressed her anger. Speaking like that sounded
snobbish, so predetermined, like she was only a small leaf in the wind, to be
tossed around instead of following her own way. It was like that in part of her
life. To be not in control was part of every one's life, but she hated to think
about this.

And she would not regain control, and she would not see what was at the end of
the path, when she did not leave. So she gathered what she needed. The furs, her
weapons, some food and hunting equipment, some medicine. All things that were
left for her. And she left without speaking to anyone else.

Speaking meant crying and she did non want to cry.