I forego the illusive mask I had planned on wearing for the Day of Strangers. With Teresal beside me, the experiences would be new enough, and strange enough for those we encountered, as there were always few humans in Karendar, festival or no, and they rarely ventured outside the dock areas. I knew not what she had experienced, so we walked slowly through the streets, stopping and looking in on various celebrations, pausing at the food sellers who continued to work and sell modified recipes, and rare edible plants, fruits and fungi.

As the day had passed into late afternoon, the delight had reflected in her eyes when we tried the candied tree ayucs, a rare grub like creature only found in the roots of a tereyoak tree. Since the tereyoaks were protected throughout the region, the ayubs could only be harvested if one were damaged by a storm, or other natural calamity. I knew not the process, but then they were slowly cooked in a mulled wine, then covered with a candied chocolate. At ten gold pieces for a small bag, they were indeed a true delight, and certainly fit for this day. The look on her face when she tasted the bolaret, a grilled, bitter root, told another another story. We had washed the bitterness away with a powerful fruity wine from a much older elven vineyard to the west.

We watched the dance of the Violete Naterea for nearly an hour. Those few outsiders who have seen it often ompare it to the orgies of the slave cities, but they only saw the superficial, and missed the actual details. All participants performed in their natural state, but there’s never copulation within the dance of Grace and Beauty and Athleticism, and maybe it heightened specific appetites, but not by the performers. Of course, as with many things for those long lived, the people can be quite sensual in their movements.

We had wandered through the entire city by the time dusk approached. I don’t think I had consciously moved in a particular direction, but we had approached the outer edges of the misty pools of Airdree. Steamed air flowed down the cliffs to meet the cold waters of a deep spring running from the Temple of Sashelas. Where they met, the colorful mists formed and spread, constantly boiling over the cliffs to dissipate above the harbor.

“We should watch, Teresal.”

She seemed a bit distracted, as she answered, “Watch what?”

“I had not intended to attend this year, but right over here by the cliffs, we can see the temple of Tyl on the cliff across the stream. It is quite scenic from afar, even if we will not be able to hear the songs from here. Here, let us sit over here, by the edge.” In a minor act of impropriety, I grabbed her hand, pulling her lightly to follow me to the edge of the stream, and up onto a large boulder with a perfect view of the scenes below our perch. The shadows of the mist played upon her face, turning her shy smile into an echo of demonic glee, the mists and setting sun making strange designs upon her face.

We sat closely together on the boulder, watching the mystical lights of the ritual below. As the sun fell finally fell below the horizon, Teresal shuddered several times, and thinking her chilled in her light robes, with an absent mind, I pulled her close. Deep in my mind, a soft voice questioned, but I felt peace as the burst of moonlight rose up from the temple, washing over the cliffs, and all who watched or bathed within. A soft hand caressed my face, and I turned into the kiss, my eyes watching the glow of fires echoing in her burnt orange eyes.

The waves of magic settled into my mind, and the small voice deep inside screamed quietly about brown eyes. The kiss drifted for ever, waves of passion pulsating through my body, time pausing and speeding simultaneously.

Slowly, she stepped away, the robes appearing to fall from her body. “Come, Tolaryian, you will be a fine payment for what your ship stole from me and my people.”

The inner voice screamed at the tentacles arising from lower areas of the body, but I rose, smiling, and walked forward to place a kiss along the webbed ears, the ghostly beautiful face with the haunting voice.

“This way, my lady,” I said myself, leading her towards the isolated path on the far side of the cliffs, far from the inner parts of the port city. “It’s just over around that outcropping, and then we go down. It leads to one of the outer beaches.”

“Lead on, dear Tolaryian.” The moon hung low in the sky, brightly shining, allowing for an easy walk over the rocky terrain.

As I turned to lead her further, I heard the soft patter of leather upon rock, before something, someone, thudded into my side, knocking me to the ground, knocking the breath from my lungs.

I lay on my side, gasping for breath, as Norilena, scrambled to her feet, drawing her cutlass from her belt, and standing straddled above me, between my and my new love.

Over my gasps, I heard a shouted, “No,” followed by screams and scuffles, the clang of a weapon against rock. I turned slowly, just in time to see a gout of water acid to shoot from Teresal’s hands into Norilena, my friend and sometime lover, melting and pocking great sections of skin from her stunning face and shoulders, and she fell screaming to the rocks near me.

A skirmish raged around me and Norilena and I, as Captain Loricare, and several others danced through magic, dodging tentacles and scaled hands, attacking Teresal. I felt horror, not understanding in the moment, why my friends fought my new friend, but I sensed the waves of magic emanating from Teresal, and the never smiling Loricare stood awash in its pulse, and he smiled. “There is one positive to being Ari’ngole. I know who you are now, Teresaleanea. You will never take one from me again.”

He charged into her, grasping her, and pulling her over the edge of the cliffs with him. Her screams echoed into the night, wailing deep in my mind, before sudden darkness took me.