The university is somewhat holding me back from my writing, but better times are coming, since not only trhe amount of exams I'll be having is slowly decreasing, soon there will be Christmas and that's free time for everybody.

For those unfamiliar with my writing style, spoken dialogue is in italics, and thoughts are written in square brackets, and usually (unless it's the rare example of mental talk - then it may vary) with quotation marks and underlined, ["Like this"] boldened text is sometimes used in polilogues or telepathic dialogues to signify what certain characters say. Also, sometimes, last words of a chapter are boldened, boldened and underlined, boldened and in italics, or all three for dramatic effect :P.

This is chapter two - first three or four chapters will contain a lot of timeskips and will be a bit more boring than later chapters, since they are about the main character's childhood and only so much can happen during a little girl's childhood, regardless of how special she is. Later chapters will be longer and contain a lot less timeskips. Somewhere between chapter 5 and 7 the story will start being about Nemain's actual personal adventurers, and in the meantime some things will be explained, like the story's title, character's personal talents and goals, and more.

Unlike my previous story, this one goes from being "Secretive" to being kind of "low level" and going up all the way towards ultimate epicness and drama. Unlike my other story, this one's ending is pretty much set in stone - and mind you, I dislike full-blown "happy endings". Also, most of the warnings concerning the story maturity rating, if not all of them, have already been added.

Now, enjoy, rate, and review. Since this story is a bit more difficult for me than "A heart shrouded by darkness" I'd really appreciate some feedback.

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Chapter II
Child’s future comes first

On the first look, to Soris the Keeper this was just an ordinary day. Like many others. Elven childred running around the village… Only that now there was a certain human child amongst them. A child of a woman that was still a mystery to him, and the same human female appeared to care little for anything else short of her daughter. It was indeed difficult to understand – she wasn’t showing some excessive love for her, and indeed in all her other endeavors the woman he called “Hoarfrost Raven” was quite selfish and uncaring.
But she claimed the girl was special and indeed went through all the trouble of finding a clan of Dalish elves and allying herself with them just because of her. Soris was indeed curious as to what were the girl’s origins and what made her so exceptional.
But the woman would tell nothing. He still did not even know her true name. Nor was he sure what she told of her past was true. She was skilled and powerful, but she might as well be an ex-Circle mage for all he knew. Only that she seemed too… inhuman for that. Like she grew up in the wilderness.
Then he became vaguely aware that he was being watched.
He turned around to see a darkly clad witch with clothes adorned with black, glossy feathers and one of these sets of jewelry she appeared so fond of. Those seemed a bit inconsistent with the rest of her look, but she seemed to appreciate the overall “rich human” look the jewelry seemed to give off at times.
That, or perhaps she just was particular about her appearance.
Her presence here obviously suggested she wanted something from him, so he turned to her and lifted an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.
The witch walked to him, slowly, her intent unreadable from her expression, but it seemed everything was all right. She certainly did not behave any differently from her usual self.
- What is it, shemlen?
- ‘Twas my daughter’s matter that brought me here, as usual. She is growing and she’ll soon have to learn how to fight, and I’m here to ensure our deal is going to go exactly how I want it to.
- Isn’t this being a bit overprotective? Everything has been going fine up till now, so what’s with all the commotion?
- ‘Tis simple. There’s only one way to really get what I want, and I plan on going through with it, actually.
- Did I ever mention you’re being too cryptic?
- And what exactly should I reveal to you to not be so? What could be gained from me telling you all the secrets, reveal the whole truth?
- Then perhaps your wish would be granted with no further pressure, no risk of losing the safety of the deal and no further question asked. About what should be revealed… Most of it? If not all? Like what is your real name? Were you really mentored by a daughter of Flemeth? What exactly is so special about Nemain that you hold her and her future in such high regard?
- Oh, indeed, with those questions again.
- They will come up for as long as you keep dodging them.
- And yet, there is little I can reveal. The source of my skills that I gave you is true, even though I omitted a small detail in explaining it. ‘Twas necessary. Nemain is special by virtue of everything that concerns her birth. And I do mean everything.
- Was her father someone exceptional as well?
- Exceptional doesn’t even begin to describe her father, nor the circumstances of her conception, nor how much I expect her to be able to achieve.
- It appears you’re obsessed with the idea of your daughter achieving some indescribable level of greatness. I think you’re expecting too much of her, in fact.
- Oh, do you? And that’s based on what intricate knowledge and incredible insight you have in her person?
- She’s three years old and human. You have no idea what will become of her yet. I think your expectations may be much to high, regardless of why you are having so many secrets about you and your daughter.
- You know nothing, elf. That’s the problem. That’s the issue that brought me here.
- What do you mean?
- ‘Tis very simple, Soris. Unlike some of people whose presence I found more preferable than being amongst your kind, you’re much, much harder to work with. You desire information, you keep probing for it, you must be completely informed and warned of the consequences in order to do what I ask of you. ‘Tis… uncomfortable. Does not sit well with me, you understand.
- What are you talking about, Raven?
- Oh, stop calling me with your thought-up names. It is very simple, elven Keeper. I have no guarantee you’ll follow our deal to the letter, and, on the other hand, I am completely sure you won’t put my daughter’s development as your top priority. The circumstances under either of those could be achieved are unacceptable to me. ‘Twas working well until now, but I need to be absolutely sure. And for that, I need a different Keeper. Someone… other than you.

The elven mage suddenly took a step back and gripped his staff. Was this woman truly so insane?
- Are you threatening me, shemlen? Because if you are, this is very unwise of you. You won’t be able to stay in the village without my approval. If I am found dead or wounded, you’ll be the first person to be suspected.
- ‘Tis true. However, someone else could point out who, or what, is to be blamed.
- I’d strongly suggest that you consider what you say know. In fact, it may be best if you’d simply leave and say nothing else, and then, perhaps, I could later be convinced to pretend that all this did not happen.
- Oh, I do intend to leave, dear Keeper. After all, I shouldn’t be here when the clan’s future is decided, it is no concern of mine. However, I do believe what happens now is pretty much of concern to you.

The witch turned away from the elf, walking slowly in the opposite direction as he pondered on what action should he take now. Suddenly, from the side, his apprentice Cammen appeared, exchanging a short look with the witch. He walked straight towards him, and Soris was now completely at a loss at what was happening and what he should do.
The First passed the witch and moved towards him, as the black-haired woman turned to the pair of elves and watched with seemingly great interest.
- Welcome, Mentor.
- What is it, Cammen? I was considering what to do with the witch, and you’re interrupting.
- It is very simple, Master Soris. I came to ascend to my rightful position. The one you’re occupying, to be more precise.

That surely wasn’t something a mage and Keeper of a Dalish clan expected to hear in the morning.
- Cammen… What!? Just WHAT did you say!?
- What you heard, Master. I need you to… step aside. It’s time for me to become the new Keeper. One more powerful than you ever were. I’ve been presented with an offer far more tempting than just being your apprentice, and I intend to take it.
- Cammen, do you understand what you’re saying? Are you even the one who controls your own actions? You intend to help that witch achieve whatever dark purpose she has? It’s treason! Betrayal of your own people, and for an outsider, no less!
- No, Master. I am not betraying our people. They will benefit from a more powerful Keeper, and from Her presence. I am merely… disposing of you. Succeeding you.
- You’re insane!
- Oh no, Master. It’s the most sane thing I’ve ever done. Compared with her power and knowledge, yours is… expendable.
- You will pay for it. People will notice she was not in the village when all of this happened!
- Oh, but she will be there, Master. I can defeat you myself. I do not need her help. Although, I believe she just made it easier for me.

Soris suddenly felt a strange sensation of a chill as the wind moved the leaves of the trees around him, realizing it has somehow gotten colder without anybody using any sort of cold magic. Years of magical expertise immediately told him that the witch must’ve used some sort of resistance-hampering effect. Then, he once again felt the dreadful clutch of entropic energy engulfing his body and flowing into him, recognizing she used the same curse as when they first fought.


And then, she turned away and disappeared rapidly as he was about to face his only apprentice.


Nemain was at the time engaged in activities far more serious and mature than those of her mother, namely fighting over a skull of some unusual animal-like creature with an elven boy that was currently pretty much too strong of an opponent for her due to the difference in age.
Of course, being her mother’s daughter, it was not like if this had any meaning – she was going to try and beat him up anyways, or at least that’s what she thought before she was pushed onto the ground second time today.
She looked up at the taller but still little male smiling at her smugly, while kneeling to pick up the large carnivore’s skull.
- Fine, Nimrail, fine! Take the stupid skull, though ‘tis truly mind-boggling what you could use it for. I did not want it anyway, ‘twas all to stop it from ending up in hands of someone as dumb as you.
- Little Nemain, you should truly work on that attitude of yours. Nobody would like a noisy, angry annoying girl like you even if you were pretty.
- I hate you, you dumb idiot! You hear me? I hate you!~
- See, that’s what I’m talking about. The attitude.
Suddenly, she heard another voice. This time, it was a girl, and Nemain recognized. Marathia was Nimrail’s newest friend, and his only current female friend, and it truly amazed her how they even managed to get to know each other. The girl was younger than the elven boy but older than Nemain, probably five or six years old in human years. More importantly, however, she was very calm and silent, completely different from the overconfident elven boy with a stupid grin on his face most of the time.
Still, Nemain disliked her for a reason. Maybe the sole reason was that she was even hanging around this stupid elven boy. Yes, that might’ve been it.
- Nimrail, finish whatever you’re doing with that skull, stop harassing the girl and go home. Your mother asked me to bring you back for supper, so don’t be late for it.
- Fine, fine, Marathia. I’ll be back in no time, though, this skull does seem a bit too heavy. Certainly little Nemain here could not take it with herself on her own.

Nemain felt like crying a bit, but she was always being discouraged from crying by the woman who was her mother, so she instead got up, kicked Nimrail’s leg, turned away and run back to her hut, followed only by the elf’s immature and wrongly-spelled swearing.

She wondered whether her mother would approve of kicking the stupid elven boy, or get mad at her for getting into unnecessary conflicts.
Or perhaps Mother would not care at all. Some things are just below her notice.

Nemain run into the hut, looking around only to see her mother walk in from the other side.
- Have you been outside too, Mother?
- Yes, girl, but if anyone asks, I’ve been in the hut all day. Nobody saw me outside, and neither did you. Now, grab whatever you want to take. We’re going to Darrian’s to grab something new to read.
- Reading again?!
- You promised you’d learn what I want you to, Nemain. So no whining.
- But, Mother!
- Nemain, no complains. Surely, you do not want to get your mother angry?

Getting Mother angry was a bad idea and certainly in the top five of things Nemain always wanted to avoid doing. No, Mother could at times be bad enough without angering her. It’d be better to submit and do as she was told.
- … No, Mother. Let’s go.
- Good girl.

Always observant, Nemain finally confirmed that her mother moved in a different manner when amongst the elves than when in the wilderness, and also, most of the little girl’s acquaintances, be they girls or boys, did not walk like that. When surrounded by elves, her mother dropped the cautiousness and silence of her motions and instead swayed her hips in a somewhat distinct rolling motion while walking fully straightened. Nemain was yet unsure as to the purposes or reasons for the change, but mentally noted to ask Mother about it and, once sure it was proper, imitate her parent in that regard.
Being just a little girl, and raised to think that way at that, Nemain was still at the stage when she was sure everything Mother did was right, good and an example for her. And everybody else, as a matter of fact.
World would obviously be a better place if these stupid elves just did as Mother told her. Especially annoying ones. Like Nimrail. Truly, Nimrail annoyed the little girl to no end. She hoped to humiliate him one day and prove who was the superior one of the two, although she wasn’t yet sure what was the proper way to do it. Mother might disapprove of her outright beating the elf.

Darrian was the village’s herbalist and a former candidate for a First of the clan’s Keeper, so he did know some things about magic and kept around a relatively sizeable library at his house, with books of plants, toxins, and a few about spells and sorcery in it. It was probably the reason why Mother quickly took steps to ensure a relatively good relationship with the man, a rarity amongst the tribe. Other than Darrian, only a few random elves were relatively fine with the witch’s presence, and only one other seemed to in fact like her – Cammen, the First of the Tribe, as Nemain was quick to notice, was also taking lessons from her Mother and, in fact, seemed to pretty much be wrapped around her finger and do everything she asked since quite recently.
Mother sat down in the elf’s house and opened another of these books of his. Nemain did not have any problems with learning how to read and write, but Mother was teaching her how to do so in multiple languages at once, which strained the girl’s mind and made her slightly dislike these lessons. Of course, when Mother was pleased with her it could be somewhat rewarding, and nothing was worth displeasing that woman, but still, the girl preferred other activities. She was also envious of the older elven children who already got to practice with bows and wooden swords, and was eager to learn those things instead of just learning how to read, even though mother claimed it would be somewhat useful in her later life, especially when it came to learning magic.
Nemain was one active girl and she preferred running to sitting, but if Mother deemed learning to read and understand what was in these books important, that meant she had to do it.

Soris couldn’t remember when he was last in a fight as close and as difficult as that one, but he also recognized that the battle must be close to its end. He was running low on his spiritual energy and, based on a sudden change in tactics, he suspected so was his student.
The problem was, he had to fight face to face with a large, angry bear and he had to use his spells conservatively as he did so.
As he fired a lightning bolt, the bear rushed towards him and slammed him powerfully into the closest tree before the mage managed to do anything else.
Suddenly, the elder mage felt his mana drop down, almost as if something was sucking it out of him, and looked up just to see his former apprentice smiling back at him.
First, conserve his own mana and fight in a different form, then drain his master’s own which he tried to conserve as well.
Someone indeed did teach Cammen something, not only in terms of new spells and abilities, but also using those he already possessed.
- You really are a pupil of hers more than you ever were a pupil of mine, Cammen. I’m not sure whether I should be impressed and proud of your power or disappointed of its source and the way you use it.
- I’ve always had potential to be better than you, Master. You knew it. She just made it easier.
- Do you even understand what are you getting into? Do you understand what this woman is aiming to do?
- I know enough. Our clan won’t lose anything except for one old Keeper. And I gain that position, as I was meant to be… and perhaps even more.
- You’re rotten to the core, Cammen. I cannot even recognize you.
- And yet it is you who engage in talk to use underhanded tactics.
- What?
- Don’t think I didn’t notice.

Soris noticed that his apprentice was about to cast some sort of spell before he immediately jumped at the chance and rushed into the woods with unnaturally enhanced speed. He wanted to recover some magical energy by whatever means possible and get a moment of safety from the younger mage’s relentless attacks to gather himself and formulate some sort of plan.
However, before he was at safe range, he felt something extremely sticky hit his legs and make him fall, only to become further strangled by the strange substance.
Of course, it was a spider’s webbing. Moments later, he felt the spider spit on his back, the poison quickly finding its way into his body and he could only whimper in dismay.

He heard the steps of the eight legs slowly changing into the usual two, before once again he was treated with a resistance-weakening effect, only this time, his apprentice meant to finish him in the next strike.
He rapidly turned to fire a Stonefist but was a split second too late, as he felt his vital energy suddenly leave him through some parasitic spell-induced bond, flowing back to his apprentice. The earlier spell appeared to further enhance the effect. Even with the earlier earth-based spell hitting his apprentice and throwing him back, the fight was over. The combined poison and draining effect quickly took their toll on the Keeper of the clan, causing him to lose consciousness and slowly drift away deeper, into the embrace of Death itself.

Cammen did not intend to wait until that moment before completing the plan his new mentor drawn him into. People needed to believe what he will say and in order for this to happen, he simply needed to duplicate the effect often seen under such circumstances.

He produced two red-and-orange glowing bottles of liquid from his sash and took a step backwards before dropping them on his Master’s spasming body. The liquid exploded when the bottles shattered, spraying the mage’s burning insides all over the grass of the forest.

Cammen made sure to check if the head was damaged beyond recognition, and that he remembered the place’s exact location before he turned towards the village and ran forward, thinking about how to best break the bad news of what happened to his master to the village.

The tale of why and how Cammen suddenly changed sides from being the Keeper’s apprentice to having the raven-haired sorceress as his mentor is one worth telling, but perhaps at another time. For now, the growth of the said sorceress’ child is of greater interest to us than the circumstances that lead to the way it unveiled.

Soris the First was done for, and soon, his apprentice would take his place, and that was the extent of it. He did not even mind being brainwashed, the rewards suggested to him, but never outright promised to him.
Simple manipulation the amber-eyed witch was already quite familiar with.

The raven-haired beauty looked at her daughter straining herself to read and understand the books she piled up for her as “training”.
She felt sick. At moments like that one, all these strange, warm feelings filled her up inside. They almost made her forget that the little creature by the desk, reading these elven books was more than a child, more than just a natural mixture of her and the red-headed warrior that made her question parts and aspects of what she learned in her own childhood.
The girl was something more, and she couldn’t yet allow herself to feel safe and secure, yet alone bask in those annoying, motherly feelings.
She threw the glance of her amber and golden-tinted eyes to the side, eagerly awaiting what should soon happen.
Cammen should not fail, not after all the teachings she gave him. She even re-wrote a part of *that* book in a way he could read to quicken his learning process. Hell, she even helped him by initially weakening his mentor, the only flaw in her plan, because someone might have noticed she wasn’t in the village – though, obviously, no one noticed her getting back in.
And, honestly, she thought the old man Soris wasn’t much of a challenge. The elven First would probably surpass him in below a decade anyway, she only quickened the process and added to his arsenal.

The funny part being he still hoped to receive various… rewards, one of them being further teaching of even more powerful abilities.
Rewards she never truly intended to provide. If everything went well, she’d have the kid in her wake anyways.
The Hoarfrost Raven was quite devious, and she did not have qualms about manipulating a couple of elves she did not care about.
Truth being told, she would require only one of her hands to count people she cared about with her fingers. Which said quite a lot about her.

Nemain, however, noticed that her mother was lost in thought, and it did not take long for the sorceress to realize that her daughter was already curious about what she was thinking about.

Truly, little kids have way too much curiosity and are far too active. Thankfully, what the witch awaited all along finally happened. A ruckus and voices of some elves arguing.
Which meant one of the two elven mages already returned.


Nemain looked in fascination as her mother turned to her, lifting an eyebrow skeptically and silencing her as she listened intently to the people talking outside.
Then, the woman flashed her a somewhat cruel grin before turning to the exit and leaving. Of course, Nemain could not sit in one place when something that drew her Mother’s attention happened outside.
Leaping off her chair, she dashed after her mother’s flowing robe, the little girl already a bit too quick and resilient for someone her age. Her mother stood by the group of arguing elves, one of them suddenly making a move towards her and starting to scream just as Darrian left his hut and followed in the footsteps of the two humans.
- I’m telling you it was her! She waited for Keeper Soris to leave the village, waited until he was alone, and then she struck! There is no way that he’d…
- I told you – the elven mage called Cammen cut in the other elves raving – exactly what happened. I do not know whether Master Soris was conducting some magical experiments or it was simply a twist of fate, but a demon attacked and possessed him. I saw this. I personally fought him after he attacked me in his spirit-induced frenzy. Master Soris died after changing into an abomination and trying to kill me, and this is the truth. Raven had nothing to do with it.
- Maybe she summoned the demon? She’s a human apostate after all!
- Fool. ‘Tis easy for a mage as experienced as your keeper and his pupil to detect a demon being summoned, should any such event take place earlier anywhere near the village, and you know quite well I never move far from it! Today, I’ve spent all day inside either the village, teaching my daughter, so there’s no way I could do it either. Do not make idiotic, pointless accusations simply because I am not an elf like you.

Darrian cut in :
- Indeed, Raven spend the last few hours at my house, which was clearly the time the events that befell our Keeper happened. Nobody saw her leaving or entering our village earlier that day, either.
- Then let’s go to the place where he died. Then we can see whether our Keeper really turned into a monster or not.

The little red-haired girl could swear both her mother and the First of the village smirked, although it was almost impossible to notice.
It was Cammen who spoke.
- I will not blame you for your lack of knowledge, but bodies of abominations are known to either burn up or violently explode as the spirits of the demon and the mage leave the body. Therefore, Master Soris’ corpse is unrecognizable.
- Why are you defending her, Cammen?
- Because she has done nothing wrong. In fact, she’s been quite helpful. It’s your prejudice that makes you think she is responsible for Master Soris’ death.
- And you’re so sure she isn’t? Maybe you’re in league with her? We all know you could not defeat Soris in a fair fight. Not to mention Soris joined with a demon.
- You make a mistake by thinking an abomination is more powerful than the wizard it was created from immediately after coming into existence. Also, I am every bit as good a mage as Master Soris was, thanks in no small way to the fact that I’ve gained magical knowledge from both him and the Hoarfrost Raven. You should be ashamed of yourself for throwing such accusations on everyone.
- ‘Tis truly scandalous that you would accuse someone that was almost raised by your Keeper of participating in a plot to murder him. Plot your own deluded mind made up simply because myself and my daughter do not have pointed ears.
- Or maybe it is because you’re a witch that cannot be trusted.
- Let me add it up. I’ve helped your Keeper teach his apprentice, and only asked for a shelter in return. I was never found doing anything wrong nor improper, I respected your people and their traditions, I spend practically all my time in the village with my daughter or with your First, and on the day of your keeper’s death I spend most of my time in a house of one of your kin and was never seen entering nor leaving the village. What additional prove do you need that I had nothing to do with your Keeper’s apparent possession by a demon? When you’re a mage, such things sometimes happen. ‘Twas a tragedy, but ‘tis does not mean you can accuse everyone simply because you have so much of misplaced anger.
- I will remain vary of your kind regardless of how much evidence proves your innocent. Humans just do things like that.
- Then perhaps ‘twas my three years old daughter who summoned the demon? Or maybe she assassinated the Keeper herself? You’re a blind fool, elf. I shall waste no more time talking to you. In the meantime, you should inform your own people that, unfortunately, they’re going to have a new Keeper a bit earlier than expected. Now, if ‘tis all you had to say, leave me be. I have a daughter to educate.

The woman turned around, putting on a mask of irritation, but Nemain already knew better.
Mother did something she was satisfied about, and merely did not want anybody to know. This was quickly proved by the fact that Mother picked her off the ground and patted her on the back, something she did not do unless in particularly good mood.
Truly, Mother was such a complicated person sometimes. Too complicated for some.
And the pressure on Nemain learning how to read and making sure she gets to understand everything she reads! How frustrating! Most other girls her age were spending time playing with either their animals or their hair, and they had no idea how to read even their own language, not to mention other tongues!
However, maybe she would be able to get some time for herself today after all. Mother seemed to be in particularly good mood, even whispering, to herself or her daughter.
- ‘Tis just as planned.


Three months later

Nemain returned home from a small group expedition into the forest the purpose of which was to learn something about the creatures of the forest. The elves started teaching their children about the ways of the wild quite early, and Mother insisted that her daughter was sent on such expeditions even though she was just a bit too young to do so.
Nemain however found herself fascinated with another aspect of this kind of life – the hunt, and even more so, the tools of it – elven weapons. Elves crafted weapons both specifically to hunt and to protect themselves against humans, and yet, the two sometimes changed purposes – she heard herself how they sent bowmen to guard the far off parts of the forest from humans or how some exceptional elf slew a large animal with his sword. However, they did not see animals just as food or rivals to get it – some animals were holy to them, some were not. Perhaps she ought to ask her mother more about them.
Still, she could not wait to learn all these interesting things. How to shoot things down with a bow, or how to fight with a sword… Those things interested, fascinated and excited her just as much as her mother’s magic did. And they did not require all the reading and stuff.
Although, when she returned to the hut, Nemain immediately realized something was special about that day. The entire house was filled with a strange smell of some incense, and Nemain immediately felt weird from its effects.
Since Mother was at the very least an acceptable cook, she doubted it was from a ruined meal. It did not smell that way.
No, it smelled odd and exotic.
Then, she stumbled upon her Mother, clearly preparing something important, if unrecognizable, so the girl did not want to interrupt. The witch, however, recognized here presence herself.
- Nemain, you’re back already. Was the trip to the forest any fun?
- It was interesting, Mother, but I cannot wait to start practicing with bows and swords and magic and… stuff!
- I can imagine, Nemain. ‘Tis very fitting for someone born from what you were that you would like to learn all of this, however, I believe eventually one will prevail over the others.
- Mother, will you teach me magic someday? All this reading was so that you could teach me magic, right?
- Yes, Nemain, but ‘tis a little more complicated with you. We need to wait and see what you will be really talented with, and when it comes to teaching you magic, we need to be very, very cautious. You won’t probably be able to do all the things I can, but you may learn how to use other skills, ones that I do not have. Which is why I’m doing what I’m doing. I was waiting for you, in fact.
- Why, Mother? What are we going to do?
- You know when you sleep, how sometimes you wander into far off places you’ve never seen, and how your mere thoughts sometimes influence what you see? We’re going to visit one of these places on our own. That’s a special trip, Nemain. It may be fun, but remember – I need you to do exactly as you’re told, and do not wander off on your own, under ANY circumstances!!
- I think I understand, Mother…that sounds very very seriousness!
- Serious, girl. Serious.
- Very very serious!
- Just do as I told and everything is going to be all right. Sit next to me.

By that time Nemain was still a very obedient young girl (although it would change in time) and took the strange mixture that the mother handed her into her small hands, starting to inhale it when told. She felt strange, her eyelids heavy and her head light, the soothing voice of her mother whispering something.

Then, Nemain felt something more *intangible* and *important* than breath leave her, and everything around her disappeared.

She woke up, because she could not describe it in any other way, in a place she did not recognize, and one that was very strange to begin with. The sky was somewhat green and everything around her appeared somewhat distorted.
But it was the place where she was itself that truly surprised Nemain. It appeared as if she was sitting on a pile of giant bones that may or may not have some exact shape. Even to the touch, they seemed very similar to the skull she once fought with Nimrail to get.
However, in here, she could barely recall the name of the annoying boy. No, something else seemed more important here, and Nemain felt really, really weird. She couldn’t really describe it, but it was like if she was no longer the small, relatively harmless little human girl, like if she was something else, something greater.
And there was definitely something wrong about her eyes.
However, the girl cheered up as soon as she looked around. Down next to some odd-looking bones that the girl was sitting on, there was a woman. A black haired, amber-eyed woman of medium height, dressed in a robe of black and violet color, made seemingly from from different scraps of clothing and adorned with feathers and stones and whatnot. The woman was her reason for being here, although Nemain needed to jumpstart her mind and focus heavily on why exactly the woman’s presence invigorated her so, and what she wanted to do with her.
[“Wave at her.” “Shout out to her” “Just look at her.”
“Don’t just look at her. She’s here for you.” “What is she here for?”
“How is she here for me?” “Run over to her.” “And then what?
“Then…” “Scream, shout?” “Demand attention!”
“Punch her!” “Greet her!”
“RIP HER HEART OUT AND EAT IT FOR BREAKFAST!”
“Hug her!” “Yes, a hug!” “Hug her hug her HUG HER!”
“She’s your mother, that’s what she’s supposed to do!”]


Raven never “entered” the Fade together with her daughter up to this point, and it has been a long time since she entered the Fade together with someone else. Not counting a certain event when she was forced too. My, that was really a nightmare.
She quickly realized everything went well and Nemain was at her place, although the place itself was… fantastic and awesome in a grim way.
Of course, how better to symbolize it, how better to show it, than to made her daughter’s very own spot in the Fade a giant corpse. With ribs and skull and claws and all other asortiments.
[“And yet ‘tis the girl herself that I worry about. She never entered the Fade other than in her own dreams, and given her nature, something may be wrong about her. Better to do it now than later, however.”]
It did not take long to discern the location of the girl herself, and after a momentary hesitation, Nemain did just as her Mother hoped she would.
She got off the giant corpse rapidly, jumped to the ground and ran over to her, hands to the sides, yelling “MOOOOOTTTTHHHHEERRRRR” and clearly expecting to be picked off. The female mage decided to indulge her daughter this time, and hugged her close, although noticing the one thing that was out of place.

Nemain’s eyes, normally a bit lighter shade of yellow-ish color than her own, were now clear, glowing orbs of the same color.
Which meant her daughter’s powers were being activated, at least in the Fade, earlier than she thought. When she concentrated, she realized the entire place was drown in a heavy, mystical aura that seemed in particular to connect her daughter and the giant corpse.
She had to figure out a way to do something about that.
That summed up the first purpose why she came here. It appeared her daughter’s humanity and overall mindset were pretty much stable both in the Fade and outside it, although it remained to be seen how things would be in the future. Also, her daughter needed to start learning about things more… otherworldly than she did with the elves. Preparing for a safe, secure and conscious entrance to the Fade for them both took her a very long time, so it all had to be realized this time around. She walked over to one of the giant beast’s ribs and jumped on it before sitting and placing her very special daughter next to her.
- Mother, were are we?
- As I said, my dear, this is one of the places that you go to when you dream. Although when you dream, it may seem vastly different. This is the Fade, and only very few beings of mortal origin may enter it consciously. Most of them wizards.
- The Fade?
- Yes. It is a fantastic realm filled with spirits and magic, a place humans and elves go to when they sleep to see visions and realize their dreams. Some say Fade is the origin of all magic, and other go as far as to say it is the first place where live started, and the place where humans go to when they die. Foolish as humans are, they will never fully understand its nature. We are here so that both you and I may learn a few important things.
- And what we are sitting on, mother? These are bones, but I’ve never seen an animal like that.
- ‘Tis a bit longer and harder to explain. You will not see “animals” like that. Bones like those are only left by creatures far superior to normal animals and only very rarely seen – dragons.
- Dragons?
- Yes, dragons. Dragons are mighty creatures that surpass both animals and humans in many regards. They are naturally powerful, and females are the most powerful of the entire race, sometimes growing to what humans call a high dragon. Dragons breathe pure, powerful fire and are incredibly strong and resilient. Many doubt dragons could be born naturally at all and say they are of mystical origins. Legends about how dragons were born are among mortals.
- They sound powerful!
- And they are, dear Nemain, they are. In fact, at one point, before humans turned to foolish practices and desperate thoughts of purpose and deeper meaning in life, many humans worshipped Dragons as superior beings, gods, even. Some do to this day.
- Worshipped?
- Yes. Worship is when a sentient being consciously acknowledges another creature or more rarely and abstract idea as so far superior to itself that it deserves servitude in exchange for just its favor.
- Does Mother respect dragons? Does Mother worship them?
- Oh no, dear, no. Your mother and… your father… fought dragons more than once, even killed them. ‘Tis not truly dragons this story is about.
- Can I ask ab…
- Your father? Oh, dear Nemain, mother is not in the mood to reminiscent those times. He was good at killing, though. ‘Twas one of the three things he was really good at.
- And the other two were?
- Making people follow him, and… well… - Nemain could swear her mother was close to blushing – another certain activity that you should not yet learn about. But, we need to continue our story.
- You said it is not about dragons. Then what is it about?
- You see, Nemain, dragons are one of the most amazing and awe-inspiring creatures of our world, but once upon a time, there were beings, according to the myths born of the Fade, that attained status and power greater than any dragon. There were seven of them, now collectively known to humans as the “Old Gods”. Whether it was natural for them to do so, as if they were what all dragons were meant to be, or whether they did it because of the fear and respect the dragons inspired, all seven of the Old Gods appeared as great dragons, although they were more than that. Dumat, Zazikel, Toth, Andoral, Urthemiel, Razikale, and Lusacan – those were the names of the Old Gods, the beings that truly deserve respect and, if any creatures do, worship. Why I’m telling you this is because the Old Gods, like everything else, are slowly coming to an end. An unnatural and dark might forces them to change, to be chained into slavery, and then die doing its bidding. But there are things worth preserving in this world, I’ve been taught. Perhaps the Old Gods are all doomed to eventually die out, perhaps not, but there are ways to ensure that their power and what they represent is preserved. The reason for a giant draconic corpse being in a place where your dreams and imaginations should be, the reason I am here with you, and that I am telling you all this, is because you’re more than just “special”, Nemain.
- I am not sure I understand, Mother.
- One of the Old Gods had to make a great sacrifice for you to be who you are upon birth. Without that sacrifice, you would be simply exceptional. With it, you are unique, one of a kind, probably in the whole history of mankind. Through you, the ideals of me and of my ancestors may partially live on. Which is why you’re so precious to me, Nemain. So precious that I had to take you away from the whole rest of humanity, so you can be born and raised here, in this place. You differ from humans, Nemain, and always remember that, but, at least partially, you are one. Which is why I’m trying to teach you everything I can, and why you need to learn it all, even if it is a long and exhausting process. Always… remember it. And respect what you came from.
- Yes, Mother. I promise. I think… Now I can understand why you expect so much of me.
- Great. If ‘tis will save me the famous teenager angst and rebellious tendencies of young humans, all the better. Now, it would appear that I was right about you. You are aware and conscious within the Fade, even as a child. ‘Tis means you possess powers clearly magical in nature, whether this is full-blown potential for being a Mage or just certain talents and abilities remains to be seen. Nevertheless, that almost marks the end of our journey here. I must look around here and try to understand the nature of this place. Stay close to me.

Nemain was, by the time, still an obedient young girl. So she listened.
Yet.

Three years later


The first bow-shooting competition the youngest elves were allowed to participate in was over. That meant two things. First, soon their sword training would begin, and second was that they were on their way from childhood to adolescence, since the bow competition had only two age categories – adolescents and adults.

Despite the fact that it was the first competition she ever participated in and that she was probably the youngest of all who participated, Nemain was extremely dissatisfied with her “weak” seventh place. The dissatisfaction was only fueled by the fact that Nimrail was fourth – her relationship with the older elven boy changed from one of childish teasing to full-blown rivalry in all things. The rivalry was slowly, very slowly becoming more friendly, but anybody who could tell they knew Nemain and Nimrail would recognize that the girl would be very dissatisfied with losing in anything and as such would make that rivalry into a fierce competition again.

Nemain appeared to take more and more after her mother, but added childishness to the mix, creating something that at times appeared to the citizens worse than how her mother collectively treated them. She could, however, also be sweet and charming in a convincing and, actually, sincere way her mother had much more problems mustering.
She did not grow like other kids, Raven was quick to notice. It appeared as if Nemain’s body went into stasis for a time and only then tried to catch up to her peers. In short, the little girl had growth spurts, decreasing in frequency the older she became, and separated by longer and longer periods of practically nothing changing about the little girl. While that at times left her at something of a disadvantage to the other kids, the moment the girl finished her growth spurt she was often ended up becoming the most physically fit child in her age group.
Her mother herself was strongly starting to suspect that her daughter’s talents would be either completely in the middle or even more closely related to those of her father, especially if later growth spurts still left her with nearly unnatural additions to her physical ability. However, she also undeniably possessed the spiritual energy and aptitude required to cast spells, which intrigued her mother to no end. There were, of course, beings, humans among them, who could both fight well and cast spells, but she suspected her daughter would be different even from that.
Which is why she attempted to regularly (if not often) take Nemain out on “trips” to the Fade where she tested where exactly did her daughter’s potential lay.

And when her daughter returned from the shooting competition, another trip was just what awaited her. Though unmotivated by what she saw as failure, she was still obedient enough to do as her mother asked.
It did not take long for her to go into a trance.

In the Fade

Aseneh was woken up from her temporary slumber by the intense presences she felt throughout the Fade, a presence that was in the area just outside her fief that was hidden from her until quite recently, at least by her understanding of time. She never understood it – not only was the area naturally difficult to get to because of the terrain, the spirits from surrounding areas were naturally frightened when getting closer to it and completely, physically repelled when really close to it. Aseneh herself was just a bit too weak to actually break through this barrier – she suspected only the most powerful of Desire Demons and probably not every Pride Demon would be able to enter.

However, recently, though in human time it may have been even five or six years, the repulsion effects became almost non-existent and she freely roamed the outskirts of the mystical fief that no one seemed to try and take over. She still spent most of her time in a state of trance or even complete non-activity, waiting for something to draw her attention, but when she started to feel something come from *inside* the area, she started to awaken.

Now, what she felt was clear. *Mortals*. Delicious, exquisite and powerful mortal souls, two of them ! And my, how attractive they seemed! What they radiated and were filled with!
[“ The wish to be acknowledged by a parent! The need to raise a daughter better than she herself was raised! The hunger for attention! The hunger for power! The need of praise and care! The hidden wish for more than survival! A simple wish to see her mother smile as she becomes more and more like her! The lust for the pleasures of flesh! “]

[“Overwhelming need for warmth and love… The longing for one special person she had to abandon…”]

Yes. Aseneh would be satisfied with those… Wishes.

*Those desires.*