Date: Wed, 19 May 1993 08:44:33 EDT From: The Dreamer Message-ID: <93139.084433ASG102@psuvm.psu.edu> Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Subject: [BDAY] Luthor's Dance With Death It was a warm evening. Luthor leaned out the second floor balcony of his elevated tree house. He was alone now as the others had left to join the celebration in town. They had asked him to go, but he said that he wanted to watch the sunset before partying. Knowing his love of beauty, they did not question his decision. Soon after they left, he let his defenses fall. His face left its usual-smiling state reshaped itself into a look of utter lonliness. Yes, he had friends and even a companion, but they were not Rachel, his wife. She was burried somewhere in the High Forest, on another plane of reality, dead for one year. Luthor's BLACK cloak waved continuously, fluidly, in the ocean breeze. The setting sun, briliant in its orange-red state, only reminded him of Rachel's summer gowns. He could hear her laughter as she danced bare- footed in the new grass of spring. Her black hair flowing around her just as Luthor's cloak did now. In the turns of her dance, he would occasionally catch a glimpse of her ice blue eyes and brilliant smile. Luthor turned his eyes from the setting sun. Its now-golden hue matched the memory of Rachel's skin. Oh, what joy they had shared under the open sky on an evening such as this! Unable to bare the loss, Luthor shut his eyes tightly, forcing out a bitter tear. "Luthor, I have returned to you," he heard. For an instant, he doubted his sanity, but he heard it again, "Luthor, I am here." He opened his eyes and saw the graceful form of Rachel on the balcony before him. She was wearing a thin blue gown of the finest silk. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders. "How...It can't be. You are dead." He said in pure wonder. He blinked his eyes a few more times; this had to be a hallucination. She was still there. "Luthor, we don't have much time. I have come to spend this evening with you." She raised her hands gesturing in her spell casting. He had always admired the way she turned the cold science of magic into a graceful form of art. Out of old habit, he twisted the forces of probability with her working of the Art to ensure a successful spell. With his magesight, he could see the power flowing into her. Her entire body was covered in magic. When she was finished, she flung her arms wide. A pause. Silence. Then, as if coming in from a distance, a single note sounded. It grew in volume until it was easily audible. Another note joined it, then a third. A smile graced Luthor's friendly face as he recognised the sounds of several string instruments tuning up...he knew what was to come. After a few minutes, he heard a wooden tapping sound. The instruments were silenced. Luthor bowed low to Rachel in a gesture of Elven courting, "My most graceous lady, I would ask you the honor of this dance." Still in the bow, he looked up to meet her gaze with a playful expression. "Most honorable lord, I would be delighted," she agreed. As soon as they joined in a position for the dance, the music boomed. It was a sweeping Elven waltz, a favorite of theirs. On warm summer eves, it or a score of other songs could be heard coming from their estate when they had the time and the magic to spare. They began the dance, keeping perfect time with the music. After all, they both had the blood of the Golden Elves in their veins, a race of beings whose sole purpose in life seemed to be celebration through the arts. Finding the balcony too restricting, they danced down the hallway, and then down the curving one of the ramps to the first floor. The music followed them as they moved; it surrounded them and moved through them, urging them on to throw off their inhibitions. As they twirled out the front door, and down the narrow ledge that lead from ShadeHaven, their gaze never broke. A combination of love, magic, and unerring luck kept their footing sure. They were in the streets now; joined by a few other Elven couples who took advantage of the flawless music and celebrated life through dance. The music swelled, compelling all dancers to stretch to new heights. Luthor lost his free will, surrendering to the magic of the music. He, Rachel, and a score of others danced from the Elven Quarter, through the darkening streets of Generica. Before them, crowds parted, stunned by the sourceless music and the ordered chaos of the dance: improvised, yet obedient to the law of the rhythm. As they passed people in the streets, probability went awry. A street urchin down to his last coin found a pouch of gold that no one missed. A ruffian's blade snapped as it struck the back of an unsuspecting blind beggar. A casually thrown rock struck the head of a Rameshander slaver, closing in on two children. A young man won back his week's pay as he rolled a tripple helix on dice weighted against him. The dice's owner could only stare in disbelief...they should have rolled a void. Strange things happen when ShadowMakers love. The song grew into a fury and then stopped. Luthor ended, frozen in a bow, Rachel in a curtsey. The crowd around them was silent for a moment, then thundering applause and cheering surrounded them. Slightly embarrassed, Luthor took Rachel by the arm. They casually walked to a vending booth for a glass of cider. Both were pleasantly tired and thankful for the cooling summer night. Their silence was unbroken for a few moments, then Rachel turned to face Luthor. "I must leave soon. I am here until the hour is done. When the town bells chime again, I must go." She dropped her eyes and folded her arms around herself. At that moment, a man stepped toward them from the shadows. He was a handsome lad with blond hair and sparkling eyes. As he approached, he smiled brightly, but there was something sinister in that look. He was dressed in high fasion, wearing a complex and tight- fitting silk suit that showed off his athletic frame well. "She could stay here. I have that within my power." The young man took off his plumed hat and sat beside Rachel. "Luthor, wouldn't that be grand. I could be alive again. I could stay here with you." She seemed to bubble with enthusiasm. "My dear sir, there is nothing that I desire more. To have Rachel back, to live here with me would surpass my dreams. I had always thought that I would have to wait until death to join her in the Dance..." Luthor was dizzy with excitement. "Then you want her to stay here?" the young man said gesturing to Rachel. "Yes, but surely something like this has its price..." Luthor was astounded by the thought. His head filled with images of the couple reunited. "Well, yes. There is a price, but I assure you that it is nothing compared to having her stay with you. A minor thing really...people would never know the difference..." The young man looked at Luthor with an honest smile, "Is it a deal then?" "Sir, as much as I want Rachel by my side, I must know the full circumstances of the deal before I agree." Luthor said still dizzy from the excitement, or was it something else? "Well, I leave her here for all eternity. In return, I take your life...now now, before you object, listen to the whole deal. I take your life, but I leave you here. You will be turned into a vampire so you can spend eternity with her. It is a second gift really...you will both be here forever, with each other...together...always." The young man looked at Luthor with kindness in his eyes. Luthor's head swam. At that moment, the town bells began ringing. Rachel turned to him and said, "Luthor, please...I don't have much time. In a few moments, they will send me back. I don't want to go, it's so horrible there. Just agree and we will be together. Being a vampire won't be so bad...you could be like that friend of yours, Kadrys. Please Luthor, say yes." Luthor forced him head to clear. Now he was sure that there was something terribly wrong here. He looked at his glass of cider and noticed a white powder swirling at the bottom...poison! He looked at Rachel for a moment as the bells rang on, then suddenly stood. His face flushed with hot anger. "You are not my wife. Rachel would never have agreed to spending eternity with me here. What about our son? Are we to abandon him in death while we dance around the here? You are no mother of my child." "Luthor, Please." She sounded desperate. The young man looked anxious. "NO! I will not hear your pleas any longer. I know you for what you are. You would have me agree to eternity with this temptress, eternally seperated from my true wife and son. I will have no part of it. Now, as we have no further business, I have a party to attend." As Luthor finished, he turned sharply. His cloak whipped around him, batting the Almost-Rachel in the face. An instant later, as the town bells struck the top of the hour, Luthor heard two faint *pop* sounds accompanied with the smell of brimstone. While his sanity held, Luthor walked quickly through the crowds, to the ocean. Once there, he sat in the sand and placed his face in his hands. Overhead, the fireworks began, but he didn't notice. Love and Peace and Desire, -The Dreamer-