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         Pyrin smiled as he carved another chip from the wooden flower growing from the block in his hand. A giddy chuckle escaped as he thought how perfect the day would be when he gave the rose to Kerain. Anticipation and excitement sent energy tingling through his body as he recalled exactly how blessed he was to have reached this point. The long years melted into timelessness as he mentally stepped into his childhood with her.

         These memories skipped about with as little order as his actions had at that age. Here, a song that she liked; there, a time when she was away for a while. Other flashes showed her sister, a hole in the floor of her home, their rock collection, the name-day present he had made her – then the memories darkened as she withdrew from their growing friendship.

         Several confusing years passed before he discovered the reasons for her abrupt change. The first was some ridiculous rumors that her sisters had spread. The other was the boys in her past whose mistreatment made her afraid to love again. Alone, Pyrin could only watch as she grew into a beautiful woman without him. Soon, another boy earned her trust; the trust that Pyrin so desperately coveted. Resigned to his fate, Pyrin was only comforted by the fact that she was happy.

         Then something changed. Whatever the reason, Kerain started talking to him again. The other boy left, and Pyrin’s life brightened again as he spent increasingly glorious moments togeth–OW!

         A spike of pain jerked Pyrin’s mind back to the present. A drop of blood quickly dropped onto his tunic from the cut that he had just made on his thumb instead of the rose. Pressing the wound to his lips, Pyrin examined the rose to check for any other mistakes. Satisfied that he would not have to start over, he finished the last few details, then sat back to admire his work.

         The rose was carved to appear halfway to its full bloom. The long stem bore no leaves or thorns. Pyrin’s reasoning was that the leaves would be too easily broken, and the thorns, naturally, would not be a welcome addition to something as special as this. Freshly reminded of the rose’s purpose, Pyrin leaned forward and brought the sculpture in for closer examination.

         The stem was the main focus of his work. It supported eight looped vines sized to allow two hands to grip the rose together. Pyrin double checked which ones he was supposed to use, as well as the notch in the one that would break off as her engagement ring. Everything had to be perfect.

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         Pyrin’s heightened emotions made the remaining hours fly by. His next conscious thought was squinting as he woke with the sunrise. His usual lethargy was blasted aside by the realization that today his life would change. He was so intent on his plans that he was downing the last bit of his breakfast before his mind even registered the act of dressing. He glanced up to see his parents smiling. His mother had a tear glinting on her cheek, and his sister was making disgusted faces at him. He grinned back and tweaked her hair as he dashed out. A second tweak increased the laughter following him after he breathlessly retrieved the forgotten rose.

         He sprinted away from the animal shed and garden that supported his family. This farm and these woods has been his family’s home for at least a few generations. Really, it was all he had ever known. The nearest town was too far away for frequent visits, and most of the neighbors were as busy as Pyrin’s family just trying to make a living. Leaving it behind, he crossed the river and made his way to the glade that he had chosen for his dream’s fulfillment. He paused at the edge of the clearing, checked that he was the first to arrive, and then darted to a shadowed cave entrance. He crouched just inside and waited for Kerain.

         Soon, his breath and heart quickened as she lightly stepped out of the forest. He felt sure that the pounding in his chest would give him away at any second as he slipped behind her. She turned just as he was covering the last few steps; her smile instantly matching the radiance in his own. He displayed the rose, and was rewarded with a flush in her cheeks and a twinkle in her eye. Her face rose to look at him as her left hand joined his right in the rose’s stem loops and her free hand clasped his.

         “I want this rose to symbolize my love,” he explained. “Given to you, but shared equally. It will never die, and it will be the last thing that ever comes between us.” Kerain gasped and removed her fingers from the stem as Pyrin’s twisting wrist broke the ring from its slim connection.

         “Oh, Pyrin,” she breathed. Their surroundings faded as they embraced and as she lifted her lips to his. Pyrin closed his eyes, wishing that this moment could last forever, and waited for the kiss that never happened.

         Realizing that the wrong moment had lengthened, Pyrin opened his eyes to the unfolding nightmare. He watched as Kerain’s pain-filled face fell away. Slowly, as if time itself was taunting him with his helplessness, Kerain’s limp form slipped out of his arms; a black arrow sprouting from the red stain growing on the side of her chest. Pyrin turned through the thickening air to see a small band of those evil, dark dwarves called the duergar sauntering from the cave. His horror compounded as he saw the second most feared creature in the land float to a stop mere feet from where he had waited in the cave’s entrance just minutes ago. The tentacle-bearded illithid swept its bloated, milky eyes across the clearing. With an almost audible click its gaze locked on Pyrin.

         Reality splintered as walls that Pyrin had never known existed fell away from his mind. Shards of thought twinkled in the air between him and the illithid the illithid telepathically tasted Pyrin’s life. Mercilessly, the illithid used its psionic powers to rip open and invade Pyrin’s memories. When Pyrin’s family surfaced, the illithid sent its thought toward the duergar, sending most of them to the farm with directions to leave nothing alive.

         ”PREPARE A PORTAL HOME,” it commanded one of the remaining duergar. The robed duergar wizard hastened to comply as the illithid returned its focus to Pyrin. Under the mental barrage, years escaped Pyrin’s hold as the illithid attacked with a mixture of simulated pain and relived memories. Pyrin’s thoughts, control, and even identity leeched away for what seemed like eons as the illithid melded their existences.

         Finally, with a reenactment of the arrow piercing Kerain, the battle was over.

         ”I DID IT,” the combination of Osthlier and Pyrin sent to the duergar named Gar’tung. Through the connection, Pyrin could feel Gar’tung’s distraction at the announcement. The wizard stumbled over the last of the portal spell, sending the result not into the real world, but into the mental link between the three of them. The resulting chaos made the contest of wills between Osthlier and Pyrin seem insignificantly tame by comparison. The magical storm flung pieces of mental rubble bouncing through the connection that the three shared until it was imposable to distinguish the original owner. One and all wailed their torment to the skies as the maelstrom pulverized their memories, identities, and abilities.

Chapter 2: "Crole - Chapter In Progress"