{{wst>session-main}}

{{wst>shyriath|A cart rumbled along one of the tracks the Chosen had shaped into the mountains - literally into, in many cases, for it was an easier task to travel between the long-fingered valleys of the Citadel by going through the mountains that separated them, rather than around or even over. Tunneling was a trivial thing when stone elementalists were a widely-available resource.

Draft animals, however, were nearly unknown to the takmar, and so the cart, like most of them, was pulled by drivers who weren't averse to menial labor, although their abilities in telekinesis also helped pull their load after them. Their cargo was not particularly onerous: four passengers. Dlyss and Enneth were two of them; the third, Sakuth, was the mentalist that served as Dlyss' psionic bodyguard, guarding her thoughts from those who would pry (at least in situations far from help; in Oldstone there were mentalists watching each other for interference all the time). The last, Orvith, was a scholar, the equivalent of what in a more advanced age might be called a botanist and soil scientist; she was a lifegiver that specialized in the growing conditions of the higher slopes.

It took them nearly two vigils to ride out to their destination, a guardians' outpost near the far end of the Valley of Sanctuary. Though a formal watch was only laxly maintained here - the bounds of the Citadel had long since moved further away - the outpost itself was well-maintained, being a training ground for new guardians and something of a minor tourist attraction. There were rooms to stay in, shaped from the mountainside, and a party led by the famous Oracle was not to be refused boarding.

The purpose of the trip was to confirm the range of climatic and soil conditions under which Einriss' new plants would need to grow, though Dlyss had not felt it necessary to tell Orvith of the defensive nature of the plants. Orvith, indeed, had been happy enough to have a chance to apply her knowledge to writing out observations and suggestions, which - at Dlyss' request - she passed to the safekeeping of Enneth. Over the several vigils they spent there, the eastern sky gradually grew lighter, as the sun prepared its slow rise.

After their last vigil in the field, the four prepared to return to the outpost and sleep before returning to Oldstone. Dlyss, as was her habit, led the way, but after a short time she stopped in her tracks, to the confusion of the other three; after a while with her head cocked to one side, she let out a small sigh of annoyance.

She turned to Orvith and Enneth. "I wish the two of you to examine the area behind that ridge-" She pointed. "-before returning. It is sheltered from the wind, and may possess unique properties. Sakuth and I will proceed directly to the outpost; there is correspondence I must read."

There were somewhat disgruntled looks on the faces of both females, but they complied. Possibly they felt that Dlyss was simply in a hurry to get back to warmth, though she had remained outdoors on their previous excursions. As she watched them go, however, entirely different thoughts were on her mind, chief among them that her enemies were getting more desperate... and, disturbingly, more skilled at determining how her foresight worked. Once she would've seen something like this coming far further in advance. To Sakuth, who could already see the shape of his mistress' thought and viewed it with some resignation, she murmured, "Be ready."

They strolled toward the outpost as if coming home from market. Innumerable ridges and bumps and hollows scarred the mountainside, and as they traveled between them, it was from behind one of these that a projectile launched with a faint //thwip//, straight toward the Oracle's unprotected back - but failed to connect, its target having somehow moved slightly to the left.

Dlyss, her expression unchanging, pivoted on one leg and stepped backwards as another dart hissed past her, and then - sensing a change of target - gestured at Sakuth, who blinked out of existence as yet another dart passed through the space that had contained him, reappearing with some confusion several dozen yards away.

Around them, five takmar leaped up from their hiding places, two running across the ground, the other three flapping their way up into the air. Dlyss dodged one of the runners without looking at him, and pointed at the other, who disappeared in mid-gallop and reappeared atop a nearby ridge, whose edge he ran off; he fell shrieking, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. Dlyss pointed at one of the fliers and twisted her forepaw; the angle of his descent abruptly altered, sending him flying nose-first into the ground.

The remaining two fliers had dove toward Dlyss from different directions, and had gotten much closer; but as they were about to hit, Dlyss disappeared from between them, and they collided fully with each other and landed in a crumpled heap. From her new position several yards away, Dlyss watched them impassively to ensure they weren't about to get up again, and then turned to face the remaining runner, who had merely tripped after Dlyss' dodge and was staring in horror at the ease with which his compatriots had been defeated.

He scrambled backward as Dlyss approached, and was backed into a shallow hollow in the thin soil, where the Oracle bent over him, with Sakuth approaching muzzily from behind. "Show me your weapons."

The would-be assassin hurriedly divested himself of a dagger, a blowpipe, and some darts. Dlyss examined them briefly, and set them aside; then she placed her fingertips on the cringing assassin's  forehead. After a moment of staring into midair, she sighed. "Jorith becomes tiresome."

The assassin began, "It wasn't... Jorith..." but trailed off in the face of Dlyss' glare. "Next time," she said, "she must do better if she thinks to take me. You need not report my words to her; she will receive the message."

She curled one forepaw into a fist; and then, emanating from it, was a... not a //thing//,but something else, a blue glow made solid. It was in the shape of a blade - precisely the same size and shape, in fact, as the assassin's dagger - and a faint sizzling noise lingered in the air around it. The assassin gasped for breath, but before he could so much as scream, the terrible blade passed through his throat; blood sprayed across Dlyss' white robe from a neck that had suddenly been half-severed.}}

{{wst>shyriath|Dlyss stood up slowly, and looked around. The two collided flyers were disabled, but groaning; they were still alive. Dlyss gestured at them; they reappeared in midair, a hundred feet up, and fell screaming, struggling to get away from each other long enough to unfurl their wings and fly; yet another horrible noise proclaimed their attempt unsuccessful. Dlyss sighed, and sat down, picking up the assassin's dagger and examining it closely. "Sakuth," she murmured, with a touch of weariness, "I detect no others. Confirm that, as far as you are able." Sakuth, grimacing at the unpleasant sights of various crashed and throat-cut takmar around them, nodded and closed his eyes.

After a while, he opened them again. "No, ma'am," he replied. "They may be hiding, like these were; but I sense only Enneth and the scholar over that ridge, and those manning the outpost." He hesitated. "Oracle, why did you kill the last assassin? You could have kept him as proof of Jorith's intentions."

"I do not wish the Councillor to be exposed at this time," Dlyss replied, apparently fascinated by the blade. "Her repeated interference is... inconvenient, but serves a higher purpose. So long as I do not foresee a successful attempt on my life, it must continue for the time being."

Sakuth nodded uncertainly. But he had lately had his suspicions about what his mistress' higher purpose was. Dlyss was good at hiding her own thoughts, even from mentalists, but not perfect (or else why need one to defend her mind against others?). The general shape of her thoughts could be seen, and they made Sakuth nervous: there was manipulation and deceit there, not of the sort done for pleasure or power or gratification or even interest - there were some in the Oracle's circle who were far better examples of those - but for cold, chilly reasons of necessity. She was planning something, and Sakuth suspected it would be terrible.

As he walked back besides Dlyss, he wondered if he should confront her. After all, it was only fair, wasn't it? In order to defend her properly, he had to know about any upcoming threats, didn't he? It was practically his duty. He would only tell someone if it turned out to be exceptionally shady; he was, after all, reasonably loyal-

Beside him, Dlyss stopped abruptly, looking thoughtfully into the distance. "Sakuth," she  murmured, "there is another threat." "Ma'am?" he replied, suddenly alert.

The change in her thoughts came quickly; he stumbled backward in what he thought was the nick of time, only to realize - as he saw that Dlyss was no longer in front of him - that he had fallen against the folds of a white robe. As he struggled to turn, the assassin's confiscated blade plunged into his neck. As he gasped and choked, a muzzle by his antenna murmured serenely one word: "You."

She held the dagger in place long enough to ensure that nothing would interrupt Sakuth's demise, and then let the mentalist's body fall to the ground. She bowed her head, murmured a brief prayer to Ba'uk, and then turned away, heading toward the outpost. She would memorialize him there by telling of his valiant attempt to fight off a robber.}}