#might have to have her and wyll have a chat tomorrow XD

[blackjackkent]

Yet another case of Rakha wandering over somewhere and finding people shouting at each other - in this case, several teeth-lings and the druids in the grove.

"Let my daughter go! Right now!"

"She's a thief, hellspawn. And you will wait for Kagha's judgment! Now get back!"

That, thinks Rakha, who didn't even want to be here in the first place except Wyll insisted on it, is the beautiful sound of Not My Problem, and stalks straight on by, ignoring one of the druids turning into a bear and roaring at the refugees.

The druids try to stop her too, of course, but she doesn't think much of it ("If it weren't for me, you'd be overrun by goblins by now," she says curtly. "I'll go where I please.") and it's quite likely there would be a fight, except that one of the druids pipes up with a message from their leader, the aforementioned "Kagha", who apparently wants to speak with them.

Rakha's really only interested in the healer, but the leader might know something about the Halsin that Zevlor mentioned. So she allows herself and her companions to be led into the stone structure that sits at the base of the grove.

As they walk, she looks with considerable interest at the ritual taking place at the grove's center.

The sense of magic here is intense. It moves in pulses and waves across her skin, resonating with her own power, but with a slightly different texture.

"Why is it different?" she asks Gale matter-of-factly.

"The distinction between arcanic and druidic magic is a matter of some academic debate," Gale says, perking up instantly at this question. "Certainly druidic spellcasting draws upon the Weave as surely as you or I do, but the focus of the casting is considerably different, drawing on natural forces as opposed to a learned intellectual understanding of the Weave's facets. In truth it is closer to a school of divinity than arcana - as evidenced by the presence of that idol of Silvanus at the center of this ritual. An elven deity of the wilderness."

It is the most he's said to her since they found Alfira this morning, and she finds she relaxes a little to hear him returning to his usual loquaciousness, even if most of the nuance is lost on her. "Interesting."

"It is, isn't it?"

-----

The inner sanctum of the grove is dark and cool, a sharp contrast to the warm spring brightness outside. Inside... once again, people are shouting, and one of them, unfortunately, is the person Rakha was sent in here to see.

"Please-- I'm sorry!" A young girl - probably the daughter of the refugee outside - is crying out in terror, faced down by an enormous serpent with fangs as long as Rakha's tusks.

Two of the druids are standing next to her.

"This is madness, Kagha!" one of them is saying, with a placating air. "She's just a--"

"A what, Rath?" Kagha snaps back. "A thief? A poison? A threat? I will imprison the devil--" Her eyes flick past Rath's shoulder to lock on Rakha walking into the room. "And I will cast out every stranger," she adds pointedly.

Rakha halts. She barely notices Kagha's pointed glare at first; her eyes are fixed intently on the snake.

Memory - a deep, thick flash of it, unbidden, unexpected. A creature like this, held between her hands, twisted at the mouth delicately against a clear empty glass. The spurt of a dark, stinging liquid.

Narrator: A death viper. You have milked their poison before. A single drop of it could kill that child in a heartbeat.

The beast in her mind stirs curiously, but does not quite rouse. The viper's poison is a clean kill, she remembers. There is no blood. Simple, effective - but uninteresting.

"One of your guards outside said you wanted to see me," she says, not moving her gaze from the snake though she speaks to Kagha. "Here I am."

Kagha shrugs dismissively. "We will speak soon enough," she says curtly. "First, judgment must be passed." She folds her arms, speaks with relish, evidently quite satisfied with the judgment she has decided on. "The parasite eats our food, drinks our water. Then steals our most holy idol in thanks! Rath - lock her up. She remains here until the rite is complete." She bends a little to the girl's eye height and smirks coldly. "And keep still, devil. Teela is restless."

Rath struggles to protest. "Come, Kagha. We took back the idol. Surely--"

"Do it!" Kagha snaps. Her force of personality is overwhelming; Rath is lost by comparison. His shoulders slump, his eyes dropping to the floor.

Rakha's eyes have not left the snake during this entire interchange. She is fascinated by the thread of memory that hangs from it, fragile, indistinct.

Narrator: The snake's hiss of approval reveals its intentions. Should the child struggle, it is poised to strike.

The beast stirs again, stronger this time.

Narrator: The death of a child. A timeless tragedy that never grows old...

The moment hang's on a knife's edge, and it would be so easy to push it over into chaos. A sharp flick of the eyes, a tacit encouragement to the child - run, run! And she would run, but the snake would be faster. Rakha can see images of the serpent striking, the quick impact like lightning, the two matching circles of dripping red... and death, inevitable as the breath that preceded it.

Her heartbeat quickens to think of it. The beast gnaws at her skull. Why do you hesitate?

She realizes that she is caught on another, much more recent memory as well. Wyll, in camp, telling her gravely the story of how he took the name the Blade of Frontiers. A lost child, an orphan, surrounded by goblins who fell under Wyll's blade to save the boy. "But what of the others?" Wyll said then. "The children never saved, the cries never heard? The frontiers demanded a blade, and so I heeded."

It is the only conversation about a child she can remember having, ever, before this one.

Wyll, she is certain, would not wish this child to die. The beast, equally certainly, wants to see her writhe as the poison takes her.

What do I want?

The question is... surprising. Up to now, her every decision not driven by the Dark Urge has been rooted squarely in survival, in the avenue of least resistance. But in this case... whether the child lives or dies has no bearing on her.

So answer the question. What do I want?

What she wants is control. Last night, the beast rose up and fed on Alfira's guts, and she had no choice in the matter before it was all over. But she is awake and aware now. She has a choice here, to ignore the beast, to ignore a death that will not serve her.

And Wyll, who thinks she carries a light alongside her darkness, would not want the child to die.

Your mind wants the snake to kill the child. But your heart doesn't. Snap out of it.

Narrator: Her life matters more than satiating your dark fantasies. You focus... and they're gone. But clearly, this child's life is still in danger.

Her breath catches. The moment of focus... and the beast recedes, grumbles back into silence. She has never stood against it before. She is not sure she knew it was possible.

She realizes she has been standing there with her eyes closed, forces her gaze open. The others can see she looks abruptly shaken in a way they have never witnessed before.

[PERSUASION] "Release her," she rasps out sharply. "I'll see that she stays out of trouble." The words surprise her as they reach her own ears. But it is the fastest way to end the situation, and she wants suddenly nothing more than to be gone from this moment, to have time to think over what just happened.

Kagha glares at her, a muscle working in her jaw, clearly gauging whether she would win, should this come to blows. And something she sees in Rakha's eyes frightens her just enough that she submits.

"Very well," she hisses, like an echo of the snake she commands. "She may go. Break your word, and my serpent shall feed." She snaps a hand out. "Ssifisv - Teela, to me!"

Obedient, the snake crawls from its perch to curl around Kagha's boot. The girl whimpers with fear, watching it curve past.

"Out, thief!" Kagha snarls at her. "My grace has its limits."

With a noise of pure terror, the girl rockets to Rakha's side, taking up a position behind the half-orc's robes.

Rath relaxes visibly. "Thank you, Kagha. Master Halsin would--"

Kagha rounds on him with sudden fury, one hand lifting as if to strike him across the face. "Halsin isn't here," she snaps. "Keep his name off your tongue, lest Teela pierce it."

-----

Arabella, for that is the girl's name, peers up at Rakha as they walk towards the sanctum door. "I-- I didn't think you were gonna help me," she says unsteadily.

Rakha says nothing. She has withdrawn deeply into herself; as they move out of Kagha's line of sight, she pauses and leans against the wall, her eyes half-closed.

"Hey." Wyll halts as well, and without thinking, reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder. He's surprised when she doesn't jerk away. "Are you all right?"

She doesn't answer, but gives a short, sharp shake of the head.

None of them know quite what to do with that. After Rakha's cold-blooded murder this morning, none of them are quite in the mood for empathy towards her... and yet she pulled this child from danger, too. And something in all of that has thrown her terribly.

Wyll frowns uncertainly, then withdraws his hand and instead takes Arabella's. "Come on, lass," he says quietly, casting an uncertain look at Rakha. "Let's let her be a moment, and go find your parents."

Rakha does not look up as they walk away. Her gaze is fixed inward, staring at the black place in the back of her mind where the beast lurks. She can feel it staring back at her, cowed for the moment but not beaten. She can feel a shiver down her back as it laughs.

Let the girl live, then. There will be others. There will be so many others...