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[gypsy_merrique]

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The days continued to drag by, and still there was no word from the missing drow, Gen. Still there was no word from those he stood with in the Dark Order despite her fervent written plea, and Merrique assumed that no communication should be reasonably expected. The woman's confusion grew daily as pressure mounted in her world, with former lovers demanding attention she just could not give; her heart burned for the dark fire that was Gen.

Confusion began turning into distress as she overheard little bits and pieces of stories of the darklings of Cove marching into cities with a view toward victory, and Merrique began having nightmares that the Order would some day come to Umbra.

After the most recent nightmare, she lay in her bed chilled by a cold sweat and staring into the surrounding darkness. She was unable to free herself of the fear that soon she would hear the war-drums beating, and that she would see the one she loved and missed marching into the city she now called home. The thought of the one who had her heart casting spells against her, or those of her own dark family, chilled her in a way that no physical cold could.

In misery, she rolled onto her side and tried to squelch the thought that the real reason Gen was absent was so the betrayal could occur without the cost of seeing it reflected in her eyes.

She failed, and bitter silent tears fell onto the pillow. Again she was struck with an incredible sense of irony and cosmic remuneration.

Could it be that this would be the end to the only thing she had learned to cherish? Her final thought as she drifted back into a troubled sleep was this: "Fine, be that as it may. I may die for Umbra, but I will gladly burn in the flame of oblivion for Gen."
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. . . But the dark is very trustworthy.
It's always as dark as you thought it was.
And you don't have to work at staying there.
All you have to do is survive it.
And I've been doing that forever.
from the novel "Dark Debts" by Karen Hall