Mari nearly jumped out of her skin - the lightning flash blinded her, she stared at the altar room where she had left Feraila and Elendirill - they were gone, simply vanished! She rushed to the spot where his body had slumped unto the ground - nothing, just an empty space... But then she noticed two locks of hair - entwined, as if they were holding each other. She bent down and picked them up carefully and tenderly.
"Last remainders... nothing else," she mumbled. And then - emotions welled up in her, emotions and colours, creating an inner pandemonium. She screamed and cursed, clutching the locks tightly in her hands - she swore and thought of revenge. But where to get revenge from? Black hatred, red anger, brown dullness, the vicious yellow of lighting: these colours streamed out of her, filled the chamber, shattered the altar to even more little shards - the room started to tremble, the ground began to shake. She did not stop - her inner urge for destruction went on and on. She struck the staff on the ground, hit the walls with all her might - she raged, on the search for something to pay for what had happened. She bashed the walls over and over again, refusing to give in.
"IT'S NOT FAIR!"
This became her mantra - her mantra of rebellion - the first time she had decided to help and side up with someone... aid... the first time she wanted to do something useful and give up her inner distance to life and virtues... the first time she used her gift of soul-sending gladly to help... all in vain.
"ALL IN VAIN! NO NEVER! NEVER AGAIN!"
Her blind rage brought her to the entrance, whitout noticing her surroundings clearly, she stumbled out and reached the cave exit.
A shattering... a crumble...a groan... a roar... the stones came down and closed the cave, Mari was enclosed by dust and splittering stones - but the staff seemed to protect her - as if it had a life of its own and wanted to prevent its bearer from harm.
She stumbled onwards, her staff was driving her... Stopping in a safe distance she stood in the sunlight for a long time - motionless, emotionless, drained. After some time she went with dragging steps to the clearing and started to collect twigs - branches - dry grass, piling it up neatly in the center of this clearing - far away from trees. Zanor, her black stallion was watching her silently and kept regurgitating grass.
The pile was high enough at last for her liking. She took 2 small bundles out of her pocket and placed them carefully on the pyre - stepped back and thrust her staff defiantly into it. A huge flame roared up, licking at the hairlocks. The blaze wove a network of shadows and light on her face - she did not seem to feel anything anymore - no heat, no scorching - nothing. The fire must have raved for an hour and all this time she felt her heart changing to stone. A stone could not feel pain - could not burn in the flames - remained untouched.... The fire died down slowly and as even the last glowing embers changed to grey and the wind was able to blow and tease away the flocks - life came back slowly into her. She started to part these ashes with her staff, nothing should be left over, everything should go back to nature and change to something new. Nothing should be left to remind anyone of what had happened - no trace at all.
"Elendirill... Feraila..." she stopped. Words were wrong for a stone, her heart was grey and heavy.... Every trace of what had once been the elven hair, the woods he had loved so much, was gone - only an empty black scorched circle remained - like the chasms of her mind - her memories. If only this fire could have burned out every experience she had... no, tears were wrong for a stone. She never wanted to feel again - never...
"NEVER!" She stomped her staff heavily on the ground and startled Zanor. He whinnied and trotted over to her, rubbed his head against her shoulder. She fondled his soft head, felt him nibbling at her hair and patted his neck.
"Yes, you're still here, Zanor. I'll take care of you..." she sighed - even her sigh was grey. "You know what? If I ever threaten to fall in love - give me a horsekiss, promise?" The stallion butted her chest gently," never - never again", she kept mumbling to herself softly.
"You're right, Zanor, what's gone is gone - let's go back to Snowcross Abbey - Eandrae wants me as an apprentice. Gaining knowledge is better than feeling - mark my words! Never - never again..."
She mounted the horse and together they left this place and headed for the only place that made sense - the future...
And a word seemed to linger and hover over the abandoned destroyed cave and the clearing with the black scorched circle: NEVER! It whispered, it sang, it tempted: NEVER AGAIN!
