Music filled the usually silent house in Halas. It went on every night until recently. It was a haunting tune, a simple piano tinkling with the emotions of the player weaving into each note. It was soothing to the soul but if one listened close enough the misery seeped in.

If one were to follow the tune through the house they would find themselves down a set of stairs. It opened into a dark room with maroon tinted walls. Upon them were the various weapons of destruction. All sharp, some worn. A sparring room not for the faint of heart.

In the corner, hidden from the naked eye, a tiny crack in the floor. Beyond that the music continued. The secret passage was dark, fog seem to fill the hallway as you went. Stone walls met with cold air down a half spiral staircase. Before you at the end of a crimson carpet a metal gate. Unlocked it creaked open.

The red head at the keys of the piano noticed nothing but the ivory beneath her fingertips. Her body swayed as she played. The tune was familiar to a few from days past. To her it would never leave her mind. She may not be the best piano player but she played with a heart few could touch. She played for the one that could.

In the corner of the room surrounded by the light of candles buried into a large pedestal lay a stone coffin. The one within of great beauty even in death. Elegant silk robes wrapped and held her body with the honor her sister thought her deserving.

"What I wouldn't give, Trin, to lay there with you some days." Zanadi's fingers slowed on the ivory keys until the music stopped. She turned on the bench, lifting herself and taking the few steps one by one. "I need you here with me. We're two sides of one coin."

She sat on the side, her fingers running over the stone lid. Laying her body across it she felt the cold seep into her cheek. "I will find a way to bring you back. I just don't think I can do it without you anymore."

"Ketesh!"

Zanadi burst through the door to the little two room house. One would think a shaman or voodoo was about with the odd collection of various things, including dead animals, hanging about. The place itself would probably scare the pants off of most 'righteous' people but Zan was more than use to it from the aging teir'dal.

Ketesh had a way of coming up with a potion for just about anything. But everything had a price. It was just the amount you were willing to pay. She was a remarkable woman in her own right. It was too bad Cyricc had gotten his hands on her at such a young age.

The beaded curtain pulled back as Ketesh showed herself. Her age showed on her bluish features, the scar down the right side of her face looking dark and deeper than Zan remembered it. A gift Cyricc had left her with.  "My child you will not raise your voice to such levels in my house nor my presence."

Zan just growled at her. "Ket what the hell is the meaning of this?" The dagger clattered to the floor as Zan tossed it at her feet.
"I see you received my message."
"Message...Ketesh!"
"I will not speak to you again of your voice Zanadi."

Zan threw her hands up in frustration. "Is it any wonder that I'm yelling? That dagger never leaves your side. I had no idea if you were...well I didn't know what the vith had happened to you."
"As you can see I am perfectly fine and capable of taking care of myself."
"Then how did some bastard in an alley end up with it?"

Ketesh waved her hand as if it was of no concern. "I wished to speak with you."
"And you couldn't just send a note?"
"I knew you would find it and come."

Turning and pacing for a moment Zan let her temper cool a bit before speaking again. This woman was such a frustration to her.

"So I'm here."
"You are and I must say, Cryicc would be quite proud of what you've done to yourself. It's nearly worth of his own doing."

"Oh shut up old woman." Zanadi huffed. "Is this what was so important?"

Ketesh's old face scrunched up in a scowl. "With all that you have seen. All that you have lost. I never thought you'd turn back to him."
"I suppose you don't know me as well as you thought."
"Oh my child do not think I have turned a deaf ear after all these years. The underground speaks of the return of Magiere."
"Ket..."
"I know what you have done." She lifted her finger to shake it in Zan's face. "Be sure of what you are doing and what you give up to do it."

In a huff Zanadi turned to the door. She wasn't in the mood to listen to Ket's lecture.

"Zanadi! You turn your back to me but do not forget we fought and sacrificed for our freedom. Don't let him take it from us again."

She jerked the door open. "Maybe I'm tired of fighting."

It had only taken a moment to stop into Neriak and drop off the list Zhlaass had given her. The supplies he'd need to fix the porch would be delivered within a few days. She was becoming more familiar to those on the route to Neriak and they allowed her past without much issue. It had gone against her better judgement to take Zhlaass on as a student in exchange for fixing the damage Haliko had done but for some reason she had. She supposed it was better than having construction workers, or worse yet gnomes, trapesing in and out of her house she didn't trust. She didn't have so many locks on the door and an attack cat for the giggles of it. Not that she trusted a man she'd known for only a week either but she could keep an eye on one more than a dozen.

Standing in the cold on the broken porch alone she once again bent down and picked up a piece of stone that had crumbled off the broken statue. There had been two dragon head statues, now only one remained untouched. It shouldn't bother her so much. It was just a statue. Something made of stone, shaped by a simple human being.

But somewhere in her heart she knew it was more than that. The stone it was made from could only be found on Mara. The monks themselves had provided it. The dojo there was the only one place she felt safe, protected. She could never let her guard down anywhere else. Even as foolish as she though the monks were in their belief that she was blessed. Here is where she hid when she needed refuge from the rest of the world. Here is where she'd spent years of her life when she felt she couldn't turn anywhere else. Until they had pushed her out into the world again.

"How long have you been with us Zanadi?" The old monk was plump, calm and kindness in his face. Each wrinkle upon his body in the plain robes spoke of his many years of wisdom.
"Nearly two years Master Wong."

He nodded his expression never changing. The harsh wound Cyricc had left upon her leg was no more than a jagged scar now covered by the white gi she wore. Her red hair had grown out a bit since she'd chopped it off when she'd arrived.

"Two years. Two years you have hidden yourself from the world, healing body and spirit. You do not honor your Sensei by staying here child. He taught you not for you to hide here but to go out and live."
"There is nothing out there for me." She shook her head, her voice low. "Cyricc took everything I had left."
"Does your heart not still beat? You have a dragon's spirit. It's what he saw within you. You need to see it within yourself. Teachers open the door but you must walk through it yourself."

Zanadi looked at the piece of stone in her hand again. It rested there in her palm as her eyes drifted to the three scars on the inside of her forearm. Each one she'd placed herself. A blood honor for those she'd lost. Her mother, her sister and her Sensei. With a grunt she drew her arm back throwing the stone out over the edge and into the water far below.

It was late in the evening when Zanadi slipped down her stairs from her bedroom. She could hear Zhlaass out on the back porch working. He'd be finishing up anytime now for the day. Glancing towards the closed door she decided he could let himself out and she could sneak away. He had a tendency not to want to bother with all the locks on her door and went over the porch ledge anyway.

She was quiet as she made her way to the sparring room and down into the secret lair below the house. The half spiral staircase took her down into the cold hallway. Unlocking the gate and pushing it open the creak was like a knife tearing through her chest. Silent feet carried her to the resting place of her sister.

"I shouldn't be down here Trin. You should be here with me. Beside me. Gi lu'oh usstan lle'warin dos. I should have been there for you."

She ran her hand over the stone coffin before taking her place at the piano bench. And as she did so very often, she played. That haunting tune filled the house making it near impossible to find where it was emanating from. She's improved playing as often as she did. Pouring herself into each note. She knew Trinaty could hear. She played for her. The one thing that ever brought her sister peace.

A white tiger sat not far from Zhlaass and even on the porch the sounds could be heard. As if Cleo could sense her mistress the large cat bowed her head down. For a moment it even sounded as if someone was weeping. Perhaps a trick of the wind.

Dressed in her usual dark clothing Zanadi sat in a Freeport bar. The mask she usually wore across her face lay around her neck, the hood still up covering her red hair. In her hand as she casually leaned in her chair a bottle of ale. She'd been sitting for hours waiting. But she'd be patient. This you couldn't rush.

She didn't have to wait much longer as an older teir'dal finally entered the bar. He was just as she remembered him. Long white hair braided down his back, taller than most of his race. Still the same dark slanted eyes. They saw much more than they ever let on. She knew he saw her the moment he walked in.

He got a bottle from the bar and took up a place in the corner. His eyes were ever shifting. Zan saw it, most didn't. She knew this man too well and noticed the little things. Taking another drink of her ale she waited. It was a good half hour before she finally pushed her chair back.

There was no weaving around tables to hide her destination. They both knew where she was going. When she stood beside him he didn't even look up.

"Took you long enough."

She leaned in a bit closer. Before she could say a thing her hand quickly caught his wrist before the knife blade he held could reach her hip. Her voice was low and quite calm as she spoke. "We both have prices on our heads, do you really want to do this right here?"

He grunted as she let go of his hand and tucked the knife away. Not waiting for an answer Zanadi straightened. She backed up not wanting him behind her. He had no such fear of her and purposely brushed against her as he passed. No one paid them much mind as they headed out the back.

They were no sooner out the door into a back alley when he spun around.  "Could have gutted ya right there."
"You've gotten slow old man."
"And you still lack respect."
"Father taught me well."
"That he did. Too bad you didn't turn out as good as your brother."

Her lips pulled up in a sneer. "He's dead."
"Oh I know it. Had Freeport in the palm of his hand, your sister too as I understand it. Shame what happened to him. Carth was a good man."
"Carth was an t'zarreth."

He laughed. "Aye, he was that too." He shook his head. "But you Mags, you were your father's favorite."
"He had a funny way of showing it."
"I watched you grow up. Which is why it makes this that much harder."

His hand came out lightening fast. It amazed her the speed he had for as old as he'd become. But she was ready for him and slipped to the side. She crouched ready to pounce. Taunting him she clicked her tongue. "You missed."

Springing up her hands chopped towards him, he blocked her at each thrust before she could connect, returning with his own, her doing the same. Each attack she made he blocked. Spinning around her leg came up to connect with his face. With little effort he caught her foot twisting it around. She followed her body through landing on the ground and swinging out to drop him. He hit with a heavy thud but in an instant was back on his feet. The two were quite evenly matched.

"Just tell me Kehlen, why?"
An smirk came across his face. "Why not?"
"Fa'la zatoast..."

They clashed again. Zanadi saw him crouch to the ground only moments before she felt the burning in her eyes as dirt sprayed up to blind her. "Phraktos xsa ol!"

She tried to blink it away yet stay on her toes. Father hadn't trained for this but the monks had. She didn't need eyes to fight. A sound to her left. Instead of jerking that way she waited, calming her breathing in order to hear. The light sound of movement had her bringing up her arm, blocking the hit she may have taken to the neck.

"You fight like a coward! Nadorhuan!"
"I'm not as young as you girl. I fight any way I can."
"NADORHUAN! My father trusted you! Trained with you and you dishonor him by fighting his daughter this way."

Her hand was quick as she pulled three stars from a sheath hidden at her waist. Getting him to talk had more than one purpose. As she stood still she could hear him move around her. As he became heated he began to breath heavily.

A flick of her wrist and she heard him grunt. She'd hit her mark. Three stars buried half into his body, his shoulder and arm now dripping crimson. Wiping away the dirt she blinked until she could focus.

He rushed her as she turned to face him. Instead of attacking as she had expected he grabbed her wrist, tearing the guard from her arm. He thrust the exposed skin before her face. Three deep scars stared her in the face. "Bel'la! You wish to speak of honor yet I see no mark of honor for your father. You would sacrifice him not a single drop of blood to honor his memory."

"He deserved none!" She attempted to jerk from his grasp but he held tight.
"Then I shall honor him for you."

Her leg kicked out just as the sun glinted off the knife in his hand. With his grasp on her arm she fell with him unable to get free in time. As they hit the ground she felt the sting of the impact and rolled off him.

On her feet in an instant she held three more deadly stars splaying them out before sinking them deep into his body. This time her aim was true and he gasp taking his last breaths.

"You missed again. I, however, did not."

Blood pooled around him, bubbling at his neck as he tried to draw in breath. Gurgling he managed his final words. "Did I?"

It was a momentary confusion as she wondered at his meaning. It soon became apparent as she felt a warmth trickle down her side. Her fingers lightly touched as if disbelieving coming back wet. Within seconds the pain of it crept in. "Vith..."