Log Date: 1/22/96-1/29/96
Log Intro: Days have slid into seasons, as Rayek, Ekuar, and Ember have
continued their sojourn away from the Palace. Those that know Rayek may
well be surprised at the changes in him, if they could see him: with the
wearing through of his old clothing from the Sun Village, Ember has turned
clusmy tanning skills towards garbing the three elves anew, and now Rayek
hunts at her side in the same rough leathers she wears. The moons of very
little but pure physicial activity have restored the airwalker's health and
strength -- but for all his renewed vitality, for all the striving of Cutter's
daughter to show him how to hunt and howl like a Wolfrider, Rayek is no 
Wolfrider, and he knows it.

An ache -- perhaps for the Palace, and perhaps for the touch of a pair of
hands he can only dimly remember -- begins to assail him in both his waking 
and sleeping hours. With Ekuar, at least, he can allow himself to ache so,
but old habits and old stubbornness, as well as rising irritation with
continued vulnerability, make the Sun Village hunter less and less likely
to let himself. Ember remains cordial, but distant and frequently impatient.
And not even Ekuar can prevent those that remain in the Palace from harnessing
its power to seek its wandering master....

----------
From a great distance, a send. ** Ah. There you are. **

You locksend ** <There Rayek is, indeed, his mind oddly interlaced with the 
  feel of the old rockshaper Ekuar, and someone else, acting as guardians, it 
  would seem, of Rayek's thoughts. but the guardians are sleeping, and Rayek, 
  while sleeping himself, stirs at the itch in his mind.> ** to Tilia.

The voice again, the send, ** This isn't easy. You weren't easy to find. Get 
  your sorry black-haired sunfolk self back here and take some responsibility. 
  **

You locksend ** <It is, perhaps, slightly easier for him, though still very 
  difficult, to reply. The distance is too great for him to spend energy on 
  subtleties, and thus, his answer is curtly direct.> Go away, Tilia. I'm 
  busy. ** to Tilia.

She's flippant but the energy of this makes the send fade. ** You're sleeping. 
  That's not busy. **

You locksend ** I'm tired. Your point? <He, too, seems to fade a bit, his 
  contact fading, crackling.> ** to Tilia.

The send becomes clearer again. ** Come back. Your place is here, not hiding 
  from yourself. You do nothing but harm by it. **

You locksend ** <He pauses, perhaps regaining strength for the contact... and 
  perhaps, simply, trying to think of exactly what to say, when he can't waste 
  energy making it complex. He finally replies...> I've done nothing but harm 
  _in_ the Palace. I have to find myself before I come back. ** to Tilia.

A lengthy pause, some mental static filling the time as though something else 
  was sending, or several somethings, the ghostly images too faint to be sure. 
  ** The only harm in the Palace is to yourself. The only damage done to you 
  is from yourself. You have been doing it to yourself. This is not simple, 
  Rayek. Return or I will come find you. **

You locksend ** <After a time, and strangely quietly> I know, Tilia, that's 
  why I'm busy. <Another pause, perhaps as he sighs.> You have never submitted 
  to my wishes before, I would not expect you to do so now. Do as you will. 
  Now go away and let me sleep. I have remembering to do. ** to Tilia.

Tilia locksends ** Remember then. But if you forget this time, it will be more 
  than a simpering sundweller to help you remember. **

You locksend ** <With that, his contact terminates, too firmly for more than a 
  hint of a troubled feeling to linger in the sending before it winks out.> ** 
  to Tilia.
Rayek stirs, sleepily, beside Ekuar's quiet form. His dark brow wrinkles.

Ekuar's ancient brow follows suit a moment later, as if teacher and student 
  share one thought, one feeling... which in many senses they do, their minds 
  woven together on a gentle sleeping level.

Rayek mutters groggily, "G'way...."

You sense in a locksend, Ekuar's soft woolly mind-touch, resting softly over 
  your own sleeping consciousness, begins to ripple with darker, disturbed 
  colors, streaks of light among the comforting blur. Sensation... a touch, 
  powerful and unpleasantly familiar to the elder... What is it...?

Rayek turns his face towards you, an old tenseness tightening his features.

Ekuar's eyes are still closed, tightly, although his mind has risen from the 
  grogginess of sleep as the touch-from-afar stirs and roils him. He grapples 
  with it, doing his best to enshroud it in the protective fog, but having 
  trouble... It is powerful. It is -power-, indeed, the oldest power. He 
  recognizes it now. His parents' home, his spirit's destination... The 
  Palace. Someone is using it, focusing their energies like sun through a 
  crystal. Someone is seeking out his beloved Brownskin, bringing unwanted 
  thoughts and energies of the Palace here. He groans aloud, voice trembling.

Rayek lets out a sigh, slumping back. There's a crackle from his mind that 
  signals he'd answered the sending, from whoever it might have been. But it 
  was a strain for him to do so.

Ekuar's mind, still lightly entwined with yours, touches you anxiously... the 
  mental equivalent, perhaps, of a gentle hand on the forehead to seek out a 
  fever. ** Brownskin...? Someone was here. Tell me who? **

Rayek blinks once, twice, then his amber eyes slide open. "...... Tilia," he 
  whispers, tiredly.

Ekuar can sense you have awakened, can tell you've opened your eyes even 
  though his own are still closed. Respectfully, lovingly, he withdraws his 
  sleep-fog mindtouch, as is his custom when you awaken. Although he hovers 
  over you like a mother bird with a new-hatched fledgling, he seems 
  determined in this to leave you a sense of privacy, a sense of inviolable 
  Self... something you have not always been able to have in abundance. 
  Gravely, deep brown and worried, his own eyes open, his voice is hoarse. "I 
  sensed... the power. The Palace." A pause. "Will you tell me what she said 
  to you, eh?"

Rayek sucks in a breath, and smirks. "Wants me to return to the Palace," he 
  says wearily. "Says my place is there... not hiding from myself."
Rayek fixes his regard on you. Ever since he's disgustedly tossed away his 
  tattered headband along with the rest of his Sun Village garb, his hair has 
  been mostly unbound, and the braids Ember's talked him into provide a frame 
  that makes his brown face look thinner, finer of line. But his eyes, sharper 
  now, more like they should be, narrow a bit, as he goes on, "I... tried to 
  tell her, Ekuar..."
Rayek scowls. "Tried to tell her why we're here. Too far to send it clearly."

Ekuar turns on his side at once, his slight frame barely rustling the furs, 
  and puts his hand gently on your angular shoulder. "Hiding?" he says 
  disbelievingly. "Dear one... don't you embrace that thought. Eh, me, no!" 
  His eyes are wide and earnest, seeking out your own. "Perhaps... perhaps if 
  she sends again, I might tell her our tale?"

Rayek eyes you levelly. "She said that if I didn't return to the Palace, she'd 
  come looking for me."

Ekuar's already-pale face seems to blanch, to drain of any color it has 
  already, going waxy pallid. His lips barely move, but your keen hunter's 
  ears can discern the whisper... almost a prayer. "Oh... no... no... Not 
  yet..."

Rayek tosses his head a little, restless. "Don't know why. I remember.... she 
  was with me. Then. I..."

Ekuar's gaunt hand tightens for just a moment on the lean shoulder muscle 
  beneath its grasp. "We mustn't go back yet. -You- mustn't go back yet. We 
  aren't finished here, that much I know." His voice sinks again to a 
  disheartened murmur... "I have to reach her... make her listen."
Ekuar shifts restlessly. "If she sends again... when she sends again... try 
  and, eh, wake me?"

Rayek frowns. His amber gaze is darker than usual, and he rolls over onto his 
  back, studying the ceiling. "I'll do my best," he promises, voice low.

Ekuar sighs, the faintest of breaths. "That's all I ask. Eh, me. If I could 
  just convince her..." A sad smile drifts over his wan face. "Or if I could 
  just get you away. *Really* get you away, Brownskin. I thought this valley 
  would be far enough, but..." The gaunt frame moves in a shrug.

Rayek glances over at you, not quite smiling; his own gaze is a little sad. "I 
  confess to confusion, my friend. I have no idea why she wants me back there."

Ekuar passes his hand over his own smooth head and across his face, wearily. 
  "It seems that many people have an idea of what 'your place," your, eh, 
  destiny is to be." Mild brown eyes harden just a bit. "Without even asking 
  you. A... tool. I know what it is, to be just a tool for others..." He lets 
  the thought trail off, gaze misting over.

"Oh, I know, Ekuar. But... that's just it... " Rayek's expression turns 
  uncharacteristically wistful. "The Palace... has felt more like home to me 
  than anywhere else... and I cannot conceive of being anywhere else, yet... I 
  have not found being here unpleasant."

Ekuar's tone is soft and reassuring. "Well, Brownskin, we won't be here 
  forever. Home still waits for us. And, eh, sometimes... we need some time 
  away from all we know. Things that are too familiar, hm? Things that 
  dominate us. We need a rest, to look inside and see how we are, and -who- we 
  are." He chuckles, whispery-dry. "Listen to this. Old Ekuar, the late night 
  philosopher."

Rayek remarks, sarcastically, "Perhaps... we have not gotten far away enough 
  because we are still carrying _me_..." Broodingly, he rolls over, and stares 
  at the rock wall.

Ekuar turns to regard the stiff, slender back, thoughtfully. "I wouldn't take 
  a step without you," he says simply, honestly.

Rayek gives you a ghost of a smile, sidelong. ** I know. **

Ekuar continues, then, his tone wise and earnest, never one to hide emotion. 
  "Then you must also know that the one hardest on yourself, dear one, is you. 
  You can become your own worst enemy... one that I have such trouble 
  protecting you from, eh?"
Ekuar turns from where he reclines, very close to Rayek, talking earnestly and 
  softly to him. His face lightens with fond relief at the sight of the 
  huntress.

Ember comes in with a brace of skinned ravvits in hand, and a concerned 
  expression. "What's going on...?"

Rayek, lying on his belly and facing the far wall, rolls over and looks up at 
  Ember's entrance. He smirks a bit. "Tilia has sent."

Ekuar nods ruefully. "Eh-- ah-- it seems that Tilia, like so many others, has 
  her own ideas about what Brownskin's 'proper destiny' ought to be." He 
  shakes his bare head, eyes sad and worried in their depths.

Ember mmms, then shrugs easily. "She'll have to come through us, first. It'll 
  be fine."

Ekuar looks from Ember back to Rayek, discomfited. "Child. I don't want her to 
  'come through' anyone."

"Well," Ember says reasonably, "it'd be better if she just stayed away. But if 
  she won't..." Another shrug.

Rayek scowls, disgruntled, and slips his arms under his head to glare goldenly 
  at the ceiling of the shelter. "I can't quite believe she'd come. I don't 
  understand why she would...."

Ember mmmphs. "Because everyone wants their own little piece of you, Rayek."

"Tilia has the Palace; she doesn't need me." Rayek' scowl doesn't quite 
  deepen, but it doesn't lessen, either.

Ekuar sits up, his gaunt arm folded across his good leg. His face is a study 
  in worry and protectiveness.
Ekuar's eyes are very large in the dimness, his face drawn tight. "Tilia is 
  pulling one way at Brownskin," he says, his voice hushed, "And we-- I-- am 
  pulling another." He gives a weary sigh.

Ember looks at Ekuar, then at Rayek. "Well." Head tilts. "What do .you. want, 
  Rayek?"

Rayek sighs, heavily. How to explain what he wants? Certainly he might try, to 
  Ekuar... but he is still uncertain of the Wolfrider huntress. "I do not wish 
  to be broken," he mutters, irritably.

Ekuar shifts uneasily. His voice is unusually timid, without the layer of 
  comfort so often beneath his words. "Brownskin. Tell me... Am I, eh, doing 
  you wrong? Am I pulling so hard in my direction that I might help to break 
  you?"

Rayek rolls up into a sitting crouch, frowning at nothing in particular, at 
  least nothing in immediate view in the shelter. "It's... it's not working," 
  he mutters, fretfully, as if he hasn't quite heard Ekuar's question.

Ekuar blinks, uncertain, then his own feelings (regret, an unaccustomed 
  emotion to the ancient features) are submerged beneath concern for Rayek. He 
  reaches out to touch the angular dark shoulder. "What's not working, hm?"

Ember curls up, propping her chin on her knees, to listen and watch, not 
  feeling very helpful.

Rayek glances from face to face, not looking at either of you for long. "I... 
  cannot stay, here, I..... Ember, I do not know how to live in your Now." He 
  scowls, but at himself, now, at his uncertain words.

Ember mmms. "You've done better than I thought you would."

Ekuar bows his head, his gaunt face cast into shadow for a moment. Then he 
  looks up again, lucent eyes determined. "It's your life, my dear one. Your 
  decision." A flicker of humor passes through his gaze. "You'll have to, eh, 
  put up with me tagging by your side, of course."
Ekuar looks around at the comfortable sleeping den. "Still," he sighs, "I 
  can't help but wish we could stay here longer. So few demands on you, 
  Brownskin. So much rest for you."

[How much rest, though? End log....]