Not Again! By Matthew Sibole

Bleeding and broken, the aasimar assessed his fate. The man facing him wore an iron mask of black, identical to his three slain brethren and his two still standing allies. He gripped a shield in his left hand and a thick longsword in his right. The blade was clouded with a thousand strikes against armor and other weapons, but its surface was as smooth as the day the magical steel was forged in a dwarven blacksmith's fires. This perfect blade was drawn back across the black knight's body and shimmered with Valestis's glistening blood. The previous blow had taken the paladin by surprise, cut through the chain mail around his neck, and opened a gash in his flesh. He knew the ensuing blow would end his life. Without the strength to defend himself; he looked into his killer's eyes through the slits of his mask. Meeting the black holes in the knight's mask with his own white, glowing eyes, Valestis laughed.

The killing blow came fast and then the knight was on to the next target, still trying to salvage their victory. Their captain, a Blackguard, was quickly dispatched by the monk and ranger a moment before. The much larger knight charged the monk who ducked under his blow and tripped him with a lightning reflex. Once down and defenseless, the two combatants beat him until he no longer moved. Once the celestial paladin had fallen, the dark knights thought they'd evened the field and may be able to turn the tide against the Heroes of Belfort. Now the numbers were even and it was a lightly armored ranger, monk, and rogue against the three of them. The ranger was already badly beaten, and the rogue wore a superficial cut on her hand when she was unable to dodge a blow while tumbling through their ranks. The monk, the one that almost single-handedly disabled their captain, was unharmed and moving in between them like a ghost. Only if they were able to surround him, would they be able to kill him as well.

"For the captain!" the dark knight screamed as he lunged at the ranger. The smaller man was quick with his hands. He'd been holding a bow, shooting at them from behind as they decimated his paladin ally, but now he brandished his intricate quarterstaff covered in magical spikes. With the sword still wet from Valestis's blood, he raised the weapon to strike the woodsman. A quick blow to the knight's chest from the ranger's staff knocked the wind out of him, causing his attack to fall harmlessly against a nearby column producing a shower of sparks. The subsequent blows from the ranger came like a hailstorm and dropped him to the ground, dead.

"Valestis!" Edea screamed. "Not again! Tymora please! Not again!"

"Focus on the knights, Edea!" Gun shouted, slipping behind a foe and rapping him on his armored head. "Help us who are alive before we all join him!"

She turned her attention to the closest foe. "Die, bastard!" she hissed, "SPINESHEATH!"

The sword she grasped began to quiver in her hand until the blade seemed like a shadow. The light in the room had not changed, but the knight she faced could no longer see where her blow would strike. He readied himself against the attack, but swung his shield to meet the blow too high, and felt the sting of metal through his breastplate and deep into his ribcage. He howled out in pain as the blade was pulled from inside him as quickly as it had entered and removed with it flesh, blood, and bone. The sound of his voice gargled with blood rising up in his throat. One more blow and he was dead.

With just one knight left to defeat, the three Heroes of Belfort surrounded him. He gasped and looked around at his fallen comrades. He knew that the hall had to be protected from them at all costs, and even if he managed to retreat and escape, he would likely be killed for his incompetence. A last battle cry roared from his dry throat as he lunged at the bloody ranger. With a deft step, the hero moved to the side and pummeled the last knight until he didn't move. The battle was over, and the dark knights were dead.

The three rushed over to Valestis's body. Tarin felt for a heart beat and leaned in over his face to feel for a breath. He found neither. Gun began to dress his injuries as quickly as he could, but although he'd been gone for less than a minute, the wounds were already running dry. Edea stood well back, beginning to sob. She had been so worried about Tarin, fending off two and three knights in no more than a breast plate of armor, swinging wildly with his staff with his back against the wall, that when Valestis fell she was utterly shocked. This mountain of a warrior, a man touched by the gods with his snow white hair and colorless eyes, had fallen for a second time in her presence and she felt responsible.

"Not again," she cried. Tarin struggled to his feet. He knew that one of the bones in his leg was broken and probably in his hand and arm, but he had fought on. His face was bloodied and bruised, but unlike his friend who lay still on the ground, Tarin was still alive. He hugged Edea, partially for comfort and partially for support. She felt his breath, ragged against her chest. He could be dying as well, but he'd never say it.

"Talk to me," she pleaded. "Tarin, don't go. Talk to me."

"I'm here, my sprite," he whispered. "I have no desire to meet Medeva's god today. One soul is enough of a sacrifice, I think."

"We will take him to Dycannus," Gun announced, starting to strip away the plates of armor from the paladin's body. "I will carry him the whole way. Sir Bane's power can bring him back to us."

"I'm in no position to fight, Gunshin," Tarin said. "We'll need you to get us back home before we are beset by more of these evil minions."

"We can't leave him here," Gun demanded, "This is a hall of evil. We may not have faced the undead here, but you can be sure they are nearby. To allow our ally to fall to the enemy is unacceptable." "He can't be turned," Edea said, remembering one of her talks with the paladin. After he'd returned from the continent of Faerun, he'd told her of his journey to the other world and of his gifts upon his return. Among them was a permanent mark, like ink on his skin, which symbolized his god Kelemvor, lord of the dead. That mark prevented him from ever becoming an undead abomination.

"But that doesn't mean the humans here won't burn him in effigy."

"They will find that my flesh doesn't burn easily," said a voice from the floor. Astonished, Edea lost her hold on Tarin who collapsed to the ground. They all wheeled to see the glow back in Valestis's eyes, which were staring at them.

"By my eyes!" Gunshin exclaimed. "How in the Nine Hells?"

"It has nothing to do with Hell, my good monk," the paladin assured him. "It seems my lord knows me only too well. Although he didn't bother to tell me, he did prepare me for a moment like this."

"For your death?" Edea cried out. "You were turning cold. How did this happen?"

"Like this," he said, revealing his chest. The mark of Kelemvor was gone. "I've used my 'get out of death free' card. At least I had time to receive a message from my lord."

"What did he say," asked the monk solemnly.

"He told me to be more careful," Valestis laughed.

"You!" Edea shouted at him. "You had me thinking you were dead and that I was to blame again! I was thinking about Tarin and not keeping my eye on all of you. And you joke? You troll's tit!"

"I accept your apology, little pretty rogue," Valestis returned, rolling to his side and using his weakened arms to push him into a sitting position.

"Are you able to heal yourself?" ask Gun, working his way over to the fallen warrior to help him to his feet.

"I don't think so," Valestis grunted. "Maybe Duncan can help. Everything still hurts."

"Tell me about it," Tarin concurred. He still sat in a heap where Edea had let him fall.

"Oh, babe," she said, wrapping her hands under his arms and helping him back to his feet. As he regained his footing, they heard a thumping at one of the doorways.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" Valestis commanded. With Gun supporting Valestis, and Edea helping Tarin, they struggled to get outside the building's doors. More creatures hid behind each doorway and it wouldn't take much more than a glancing blow from a goblin's mace to kill Tarin or Valestis. Edea stopped next to two of the fallen knights and stooped down.

"What are you doing, woman?" Tarin scowled, having to keep himself upright on his staff.

"You think healing draughts and fancy armor falls from the sky?" she said condescendingly. "I'm taking these swords to sell when we get back."

"We're not going to get back if you don't help me flee this deathtrap!" he admonished. She could hear fear in his voice for the first time since they'd met. In the face of a dozen battles and hundred foes, she'd never heard a quiver in his voice. After the beating the knights had given him, although he survived, he was afraid.

"Alright," she relented, sheathing three of the swords into her belt. She supported his weight again and helped him limp out the door. Once outside, they braced it shut from the outside. It wasn't likely the evil within would come outside anyway, since Dycannus had previously visited each of the unholy temples and consecrated the grounds outside. They activated their magical token and were instantly whisked several hundred miles to Belfort, and safety.

------

"I don't understand," muttered Duncan. He'd cast and recast every healing magic he knew of, from those that mended scratches to the same spell that had reattached his severed arm many years ago. Nothing was working on his friend lying on the litter in front of him. "Why the hell can't I heal your celestial ass?"

"I can't say," Valestis admitted. "Trust me, it's not my doing. I want you to make it all better."

"Maybe you should let another healer try," suggested Tarin. Duncan had worked on him first and healed all of his bruises and gashes as easily as Tarin had earned them. Small scars still held on the surface of his skin, but they would fade in a matter of weeks, leaving only memories of the battle with the dark knights.

"No," Valestis protested. "Duncan is the best. If his power has no hold, then no one's will. Obviously my lord wants me on my back for a time, to ponder the gift he's given me."

"Then I will take your place," Duncan stated, gathering his weapons at the door of the room. "We will leave at sunrise, re-armed and re-focused on toppling this last obstacle." "No you won't," Valestis promised. "You will not return to that hall of evil without me. Those mercenaries focused on me for a reason. They are specially trained and they struck with a military precision. We don't need to treat this like another dungeon altar. Your holy symbol won't turn these creatures to a pile of dust and ash."

"Perhaps not, but maybe my blade will find more bite than yours," Duncan said half- joking and half-serious. He had his doubts of Valestis' focus over the last several weeks. The paladin seemed distant at times, thinking of matters other than those at hand. Tarin and Edea lauded his bravery during their missions, and he knew first-hand that the knight was a great warrior, but a wandering mind could easily bring death. His suspicion was furthered by Tarin's account of Valestis laughing just before the mortal blow was struck.

"His focus was pure," Gunshin volunteered. "We were all of one mind to defeat the enemy. Not only did we nearly lose two of our number to the opposition, but there were who knows how many more waiting to strike from behind the next set of doors. They did not attack, and we must be aware that they did not. There must be a reason."

The ranger-knight put a hand on Duncan's shoulder. "I agree with them, my friend," he said. "Never have Edea or I fought an opponent so well armed or trained. Even I, who have studied man for his weaknesses and frailties, could find none in these combatants. It was like fighting Sivora, only with a blackened soul."

"Why would such soldiers side with such evil?" Sivora asked. "Money is one thing, but to be trained as such they must have a commander, a home, and a code. Where is their honor?"

"They are of the mind that follows orders and nothing else," Tarin replied. "I have despised such men all my life, and have put into the ground several who could not be reasoned with."

"Siv," Edea said, "if you or Duncan had been there, we might have dragged out more corpses. They concentrated on Valestis because he wore the most armor and presented the most threat. Gun and I were practically ignored, but those who watched the battle from the cracks in the doors will know better for the next time."

"Then we go in force," Sivora said. "It's the only way. We have made it this far together, let us all take this battle to them."

"If they can defeat our combined strength, then let them have this world," Tarin agreed.

"But you will not leave without me," Valestis demanded. "Who will tell your story to Kelemvor and convince him not to banish you to the Nine Hells?"

"Just rest, my friend," Duncan commanded, placing a firm hand on the wounded paladin's shoulder and forcing him back to prone. "We will be back to visit you after you have recovered." "Yes," Sivora agreed. "Besides, if it is soldiers that we will fight, then there are some things you could all learn from me."

"That's not a bad idea, Red," Duncan agreed. "Not a bad idea at all. A little education might tip the scales."

"Hey sprite," Sivora said to the rogue, using Tarin's new nickname for her which she found adorable. "How about you tell me everything that dragon trap of a brain remembers about these knights. Maybe between you and me and the library we can figure out who trained them and how to bury their asses."

"It's a deal, cow," she replied with a playful bitterness. "Besides, I'm sure Tarin has to rest up before I kick his ass for almost getting killed."

"Move over, aasimar!" Tarin roared. "I'm going to need that cot more than you!"

"Ow, woodsman, that hurts!" Valestis cried out, holding his arm where Tarin had pushed him. He was much weaker than he'd let on. Tarin's mock shove felt like it snapped bone. "Leave me be, but if you use that device, I'll tell my god to leave you in the abyss."

"Fair enough," Duncan said. "Let's go." Before he left, he touched Valestis once more on the head. "I'm glad I didn't have to call you back to us. Tell me, why did you laugh, at the end. Did you think you were immortal?"

"I had to laugh, my brother in arms," Valestis recounted, "because I knew I was going to die."

"I won't let that happen again." Duncan promised.

"Fair enough," Valestis agreed, and closed his eyes for a long sleep.

------

When he awoke, he wasn't sure where he was or what time of day was upon him. He did notice that he wasn't alone. He lay on his back with a nightshirt covering him and his blankets strewn across the floor. He was wet from sweat, probably a fever and infection that his body was not used to fighting off. Lying on his outstretched arm was a delicate head of blonde hair. Rising above the golden locks was a perfect, pointed ear. Raina had evidently snuck into his hospital bed and made herself comfortable by his side. She was dressed for bed, so he deduced that it must still be night. She lay with her back to him, her shape now discernable with his perfect night vision. His eyes traced the dip in her waist and the rise of her hips. Just below her knees, her skin reappeared from below her soft blue nightdress. She stirred slightly at the change in his breathing. He quickly shut his eyes and tried to steady his breath. He felt her roll over into his chest and nuzzle. She made a quiet groan as she tried to get comfortable. A hand rose up from her side and began to trace his muscles under his shirt. She was awake and she was rubbing his chest! Even at full strength of will, he probably would not have been able to control his heart from racing. When men painted or sung of angels, it was Raina they described. He'd had a terrible crush on her for months, and now he debated with himself how long he could feign sleep and enjoy her touch, fearful that if he 'awoke' she would get embarrassed and quickly leave. He let out a small sigh, and slowly opened his eyes.

"Did you think you were fooling me?" she whispered to his ribcage. Her voice was usually strong, but now it was almost like a spring breeze carries the words away just before he could hear them. "I haven't slept since the moment I came in here."

"What…" he started before he choked and had to clear his throat. He rolled his eyes at himself; quite sure he could screw up hitting the water after falling from a boat as long as Raina was nearby. "What have you been doing?"

"Listening to your heart, making sure it didn't stop," she said, still not bringing her face out of his side. Her hand continued to caress him, much to his pleasure. "Listening to your breathing. I can almost hear your skin knit together your wounds. It's almost as if I can hear the dreams in your head. I guess that is my racial blessing." At this last statement, she moved her hand from his chest to her hair and re-exposed her elven ears. First she lifted her head to sweep the hair from underneath and lay one ear on his exposed bicep, then she tucked her hair behind her other so he could see the profile of her exquisite face.

"You are beautiful," Valestis said absentmindedly. He couldn't help it. She made his heart ache with her high cheeks, perfect chin, and although they were closed, he could see her deep brown eyes as he had a hundred times in his dreams.

"Why do men say that?" she asked. "It's not original at all."

"If I could invent a language that had never been spoken and could not be repeated, then, maybe, I could put into words the way a man feels when he takes in your beauty." Valestis was shocked that what he meant to say actually came out in a coherent statement. She smiled to confirm that he wasn't imagining it.

"That was original," she admitted. She cracked her eyes open, but still stared into his side. Her hand found its way to his hip and rested lightly. "I shouldn't have let you go without me."

"No," he started, but she didn't stop. "I felt it was wrong. Gun is bigger and stronger, but I can protect you. I can protect you all. Duncan is the chosen one, Sivora is a warrior, and Gun is spiritual, but only I can protect you. I won't let it happen. Not again."

"Rain," Valestis finally interrupted. He had never used Edea's pet name for her except when he talked to Aerie about her. Something about pure, life-giving water descending from the heavens seemed to emulate her innocence and beauty, and yet the same substance could destroy crops, buildings, and literally drown the life from you. It fit her so perfectly. "It's not your job to protect me, uh, us."

"Then why am I here?" she asked, finally looking him in the eye. Her gaze didn't waver when it met his colorless eyes. Only Tia had ever looked upon him in such a nonchalant manner. Most others squirmed, even those who he was not judging.

"You are important, but you can't appoint yourself as our protector," he explained. "Things will happen. Death will happen. If it does, you can't let it destroy you. I know this. You must learn from my mistake. I haven't been given an escape from death; I've been given another chance at life."

"Don't leave me again," she ordered him.

"I'll try my best," he promised.

"How weak are you?" she asked.

"Why, are there ash vampires at the door?" the paladin joked, then looked to make sure there weren't.

"No, I'm just wondering how much longer you'll need me," she said, cuddling back down into his arms.

"I think I needed you before I was ever hurt," Valestis said.

"No, you'll go away when this is done," she told him. "You'll find another cause, another threat, another weak little maid to rescue."

"I like strong women," he said, knowing she was referring to his continued affection for Tia, the common girl he rescued and for a time was involved with.

"Bullshit," she shot back. "You like 'em grateful and submissive."

"Then why do I like you?" he asked.

"Because I'm beautiful," she quoted. "And I look like I'm easy."

"That is the last word I would use to describe you," he said. "I've had over one hundred men," she told him, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "I'm over two hundred years old. Did you think I was saving myself for some celestial to walk into my life and pop my cherry?"

"Rain," he said.

"Don't call me that," she replied, coldly. He didn't understand the change in her, but she no longer felt warm to him.

"I'm sorry, Raina," he apologized.

"Well, I suppose you want me to strip off my gown and make you my one hundred first?" she said accusingly. She got to her feet and stood over him. He must have not rested all that long, because he was still too weak to move quickly.

"I'd prefer if you'd wait until I could enjoy it," he replied honestly, his pain drawing away his couth.

"What if I want to enjoy it?" she said. "You're too weak to fight me off." She reached down to take a hold of him. "Say what you want, but your anatomy tells a different tale."

"I don't want this. I don't like you like this," he told her, pushing her hand away. "Why are you being this way?"

She removed her dress, standing naked in his vision.

"Don't you want me now?" she asked.

"I don't want you like this," he reaffirmed.

"Other men would kill for me to stand before them like this, offering my body, but not the righteous paladin!" she said mockingly. "Why the hell can't I get laid by you?"

"Raina," he said softly. "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't look at me like that. I don't know how to act," she said, angry. She gathered up her gown and covered the front of her while she sat on the corner of the bed. He could feel the skin of her backside resting against his leg. "I'm not two hundred, I'm barely twenty, but no one can tell. I've got this body that men want to molest, and I still think I would rather play with dolls than be made into one. My mind feels like it is trapped between a happy child and a miserable adult. It's the same with my powers. I could call down a fireball to destroy this house right now… there would be nothing left, but then I'd have no home! Why? Why am I so confused? Why is it so hard?" She was crying hard now, letting the tears stream from her face without restraint. She was talking to him, but really talking over him. He didn't know she had these thoughts, these emotions, and they were probably too embarrassing to share with their confident women friends Edea or Sivora. Ironically, Tia could probably understand the best, being forced into an adult role at so young and age, but each of their feelings for him stood in the way of any friendship they might form. He lifted a hand to her face and she buried her cheek against it.

"I've looked at rough and scary men, enticed by their danger and horrified by it as well. Why do I do it? Can you tell me? Why am I always thinking of you when I know that the day will come when you'll be gone and I'll be sad?"

"I can't explain what it's like to be a half-elf," he began. "I will live the life of a man; while you will see all of us grow old, die, and then go on to exist into another lifetime. I am jealous because you have been given longevity to see more of the world than I ever could, but I am sad that you will lose those you love over and over."

"I love you all," she said, still sobbing. "I don't want any of you to die."

"Come here," he said, gathering her to him. Her small body fit onto his easily. She was still naked from the back, but her dress shielded the flesh of their bodies from touching. He stroked her hair, innocently comforting her, while she cried.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I tried to trick you."

"It's alright," he told her. Her tears seemed to stop and she just lay quietly on top of him. They lay that way for several minutes, listening to each other's breath. Valestis lost himself in her smell of her hair and the feel of her weight on him. He dozed lightly, exhausted from his injuries and their encounter. Then, a sound startled him back to consciousness. The door was moving. Raina did not stir as the door opened. The light from several candles bled into the room. Too weak to scramble for the covers, Valestis just looked to see who entered. From behind the candelabra, he could make out Tia's face. In the light of the room, she could easily make out Raina's naked body on top of Valestis. The candles dropped from her hand in shock as she scrambled back to her room. Raina leapt up and used her nightdress to extinguish the flames.

"Crazy waif!" she yelled.

"Oh crap," Valestis exclaimed.

"What, do you really think that she thought we fucked?" Raina asked.

"Look at yourself," he said. She was standing in all her naked glory with her hands on her hips.

"Shit," she said embarrassed. "I guess there's not another way to take it." She sat back on the bed, rubbing the paladin's hair.

"If she's going to tell everyone anyway," Raina began. Valestis laughed and pulled her down to him.

"Don't think that didn't cross my mind!" he chuckled as he hugged her neck.

"Oh! Oh! Oh, my paladin!" she yelled in false ecstasy. "Take me like you do your mount!"

"Stop it girl!" he chided. He let go of his embrace and let out a deep breath. He just wanted to sleep. "I'm tired. Let me heal."

"Do you mind if I stay?" she asked, lying across him, still bare to the world.

"At least get the blanket," he said.

"But you get so hot when you sleep," she complained. "I was thinking of taking off my dress about an hour ago."

"An hour?" he asked, "How long have you been here?" She blushed.

"Since yesterday afternoon," she admitted. "You've been sleeping for three days."

"By the gods," he exclaimed, beginning to sit up. She leaned all of her weight against him until he collapsed back down.

"Not yet," she said. "Maybe tomorrow you can get up." She fell back to the place on his arm where she was snuggled before. He rolled slightly to bring his other arm around to hold her. She purred into his chest, closing her eyes. "Hmm, keep me warm."

"My pleasure," he agreed. Sleep was taking hold of him fast. Her skin felt so cool and soft under his touch. She snaked a hand out from under his and pulled his hand from her waist to her behind. His palm nearly engulfed her entire cheek. She returned her arm to his chest.

"Better," she cooed, more telling than asking.

"Yes," he replied dreamily, not realizing the difference. If Kelemvor decided to take back his gift and take him to death, Valestis quickly prayed it would be before he woke again so this would be his last mortal memory.

"Good-night, sweet prince," she whispered, drifting off to sleep herself.

"Good-night, Rain. Uh, Raina," he said, forgetting her earlier demand. "You can call me Rain," she said. "I like it…Val."

They lay together and in spite of their appearance, innocently drifted off to sleep. Valestis knew when he awoke there would be the pain of recovery, the pain of dealing with Tia, and eventually the pain of battle, but with the dreamy sorceress's soft butt cupped in his hand and his nose buried in her silky blonde hair, there could be no pain tonight.

As he'd assumed, when daylight came and he opened his eyes again, she was gone, and he felt pain. He closed his eyes and tried to bring her back with his mind, but it didn't work. His heart felt like an empty hole, and he was in pain. No, he was in love.

"Not again." He murmured, smiling to himself. Love was good. He knew when he came back to this plane that he needed to love, and he wanted to as well. Marai had loved him, and he also cared for her, but not like he did for Raina. She was wild and he was wild about her. The hole in his chest filled a little with this revelation. He decided to let himself be in love. Why not? Then the door opened and a too familiar face was poking through. Wet brown eyes and mussed brown hair was clearly visible. Tia probably hadn't slept since she found him with the elf, and obviously she'd been crying all night.

"Oh shit," he thought, the smile disappearing. It was too soon to think about this now. Why did she have to show up now? "Not again!"