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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2902450" data-attributes="member: 143">Thanks, NWK!  * * * * * Chapter 606Benzan tried to pull away, to dodge, to evade, but with the werelion holding him fast, the creature’s own strength far outweighing his own, there was nothing he could do. The white fire did not burn, but it pierced him with a chill that plunged down to the core of his bones.  He would have fallen, had not the lyncanthrope continued to hold him firmly. And then it was gone, although it took a few more seconds for him to be able to see clearly through the brilliant afterimage of light that blazed across his vision.  The werelion released him, and as he did Benzan could see that a soft white glow lingered around him, replacing the ugly green nimbus of the dimensional anchor.  Dana was there, the aftereffects of the spell on his vision giving her a white halo as well.  Or was she glowing too?  He could not be certain, but he thought he saw relief in her eyes, shrouded within a hard exterior that she kept carefully neutral. “Why?” Benzan asked. “I’m sorry.  We… I... had to be sure.  The moonfire reveals all falsehoods; I’m sure I don’t have to explain further, given our foe.”Benzan nodded, but a lingering twinge of disquiet lingered.  Clearly he hadn’t been the only one changed during his captivity; Dana was like a dagger, its hard steel edge barely constrained in its sheath.  He wondered what had happened to her, what had happened to all of his friends, in the time that had passed since he’d been taken.  For that matter, how long had that been?  His own mental processes had become a jumble, and he knew enough to understand that the process of being tortured had likely stolen a good part of his reason, his sanity.  At times, it felt as though it had been mere days that he’d been in Graz’zt’s fortress, but seconds later, it seemed like it had been his entire life, with the memories of what had come before just vague outlines. “Come on, let’s get back to Corumbos,” she said, leading them back toward the clearing, the werelion at her side.  Benzan followed.  The clearing was still shrouded in haze, lingering wisps of smoke from the fire storms clinging to the ground.  Globs of melted iron that had been part of the foliage of the cube formed a rough hemicircle around the blasted interior, where the bodies of demons lay splayed in scorched and bloody poses.  The titan was there, waiting for them.  Corumbos had returned to a smaller form, only slightly taller than Benzan, a perfect human ideal with features chiseled and defined.  His half-plate was gone, replaced with a flowing white tunic, and despite having been in a violent clash just a few moments ago, there was not a spot of blood or gore upon him.  He still bore his hammer, though, the oversized weapon at rest in his right hand.  “Is it done?” he asked, his voice melodious. “It is done,” Dana said.  “Open the gate to the Prime as I specified, and then our compact is concluded.”The titan nodded and gestured, summoning a swirl of magic that even Benzan, with his limited magical abilities, could see like a beacon.  Corumbos directed that magic into a tight wedge that sundered the barrier that separated worlds, opening another gate.  Without further comment, Dana took his hand and led him through, followed by the werelion.  Benzan glanced back to see the titan already casting again, and then the gate closed, revealing a blank wall behind it. He turned around and stared in amazement.  They were in a vast, open chamber, beneath an ivory dome that reached its apex nearly eighty feet above them.  Huge pillars of white marble rose up to support the dome, the space between them filled with huge open windows that let in soft natural moonlight, or arched corridors that led to additional wings of the building.  The place looked somehow familiar to him, but he could not identify what it was. His attention was distracted as he saw that the great chamber was occupied.  A dozen figures, men and women of several races, clad in silver robes, looked startled to see them—understandable, Benzan thought.  A few cast spells, surrounding themselves with pale auras or summoning globes of glowing white light around the intruders.  As Dana threw back her cowl and stepped forward, Benzan could see that her appearance had an equally dramatic effect upon them. “Dana Ilgarten!” an elven man exclaimed.  “What are you… I mean, why are…”“Benefis, rouse the High Priest at once, and have him gather the Court of Stars in this chamber.  I want a dimensional lock on the temple sanctuary, and magical shielding on each of us.”  Almost as an aside to herself, looking at the shafts of pale moonlight that shone through the high windows, she added, “Highmoon would be better, but I guess we’ll take what we can get of the Lady’s blessing.”The elf was just standing there, his mouth drooping open.  “Well, did you hear me?” Dana exclaimed.  “At once!” The elf turned and ran, followed by the other acolytes.  Benzan had finally realized where they were, as his eyes drifted up to see the sigil etched into the dome above, a glowing design in silver that shone brightly in the reflected moonlight.  They were in the Moontemple, in Iriaebor, Dana’s city of origin.  In the Western Heartlands, in Faerûn, on the world Abeir-Toril. Home.  Just the thought of it almost overwhelmed him.  Dana did not turn back to him.  The werelion walked a short distance away.  Benzan did not know what to do.  The woman standing before him was like another person, one he had never met.  She lacked the soft warmth he remembered of his wife, replaced by an iron shell of cold, emotionless purpose.  He remembered how hard she had taken the loss of Delem, and the thought that he might have been the reason for that change broke something deep inside him. “I had to do it,” she said, as if responding to his thoughts.  “I had to focus on one goal, one thing alone, and drive out all else.  I would have gone insane, otherwise.”“Dana…”“All that matters is that I got you out,” she said.  “You’re safe, and…”  She trailed off, and Benzan could see that her body was shaking. Suddenly, none of it mattered.  None of the torments, the anguish, the wall that had been driven between them by that terrible tragedy.  He took her into his arms, just holding her.  “It’ll be all right,” he said, and for the first time in a long time, it felt true. “Oh, Benzan!” she cried, the tears bursting out of her, as the shields and defenses she’d painstaking built around her loss and grief came crashing down.  Benzan found himself crying too, and with each tear it felt as though a part of the stain clouding his soul was washed away. She turned into his embrace, and held him there in the soft moonlight, under the silver dome.</blockquote>

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