Last Moment Revelations
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Selinthia Avenchesca
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I wonder to myself, sometimes, why I stayed.

The first reasons that come to mind are the same ones I have been thinking of since the very beginning. The clerics would never allow my departure, drow society does not allow for it, I would not survive long in the Underdark, but those reasons, though very real, were not the only ones. The truth is, no matter the threats of the clerics, and the danger of the wilds, had I truly had not reason to stay in this, the city of my birth, I would not have. But Menzoberranzan held a more seductive lure, and Malice discovered it early on in my "service" to her. I am sarcastic upon the word of service, because it ties in with the deepest truth. We used each other. I used her, and she used me, and we drew from each other what we wanted. I was a weapon to her, a tool by which to advance her ambitions. I have also been her lover, through the centuries. And through her, I drew a path by which to exact my own desires upon my people, a path by which to perfect my skills, to be the killer in the nest of vipers. Some would say that is no reason to stay, but for me, it was a very good one. I don't live simply to kill, of course, though some would say I do. We all have our hobbies, our amusements, and one cannot be serious all the time. In fact, I have a well-developed sense of humor, though I laugh more at ironies than at pranks.

Which is not to say that I have not played some pranks in my life. There was a time, centuries back, during my Academy years, when I was well known amongst my fellow students for the pranks I would play upon the then-Masters. Watching them scowl in outrage at the indignities heaped upon them was very amusing indeed. They, of course, were far too proud to report such petty events to a wizard or cleric who may, for a fee, find out who had done the deed. I counted upon the pride from the very beginning, and it worked. Never once did a cleric or wizard find themselves the butt of a joke, or embarrassment. I have always known were to pick my targets, and that brings things back to the heart of the matter.

I stayed in Menzoberranzan, actively strove for the position of House Do'Urden's weapon master, though with my skills, not much striving was needed, because I wanted to carry through upon my enmity for the people I was a part of. And I knew that the only way to do upon a regular basis, without being executed for it, would be to do so "officially." Malice arranged for this, and soon, we found ourselves in a tug-o-war of power over each other, as we to increase our own reach in accomplishing what we wanted. And so we played our games, snarling at each other in anger whether we won or lost, playing at a stalemate.

And then came our children, our daughter Vierna, and our son, Drizzt.

They too, were used, but in the end, there was nothing but my own choices, and the manner in which my own feelings were turned against me.

I remember, too, the day when Drizzt looked over at me, and announced that Malice had given him permission to look at my eyes, rather than my boots. I wanted to laugh then, but I didn't. I took my amusement from his childish daring, and balanced the withheld laughter with the coins that would decide the fate of my son--warrior or wizard.

He caught the coins.

And now, I stand, in that same chapel anteroom where that small drow boy caught those same coins, under the watchful gaze of the smug matron mother. The same matron who now plays the tune that will lead to my willing death. We both know it. I should have remembered my own words, and kept as my only true friends the weapons that had always been with me. Two long swords.

In vital moments, such wisdom is lost in stifled laughter.

End