Time line: The evening of the day M'ressan wakes up.

	Mearn decided that enough was enough.  Making new friends in a new world
was a good thing, but it was time to determine what was going on at home.
Too many people would be wondering what had happened to him.  He had never
intended to travel so far, but that was one of the unforseen aspects to that
type of magic.  How, however, was he supposed to do that.  None of his magic
appeared to work on this strange world.  Perhaps if he reverted to full
ritual spellcasting, he might be able to make contact.
	He approached the face of the cliff of the warren, and set his satchel
down.  Reaching in, he checked to make sure everything was in order.
Quickly opening all his pouches, he noted that everything he needed was
present, and drew his crossbow from the satchel.
	Mearn tested the action of the bolt before attaching his climbing rope to
it.  Raising the crossbow, he fired off the shot.  A faint sound was the
only indication that the bolt had contacted, and an even fainter sound of
the grip indicated that it was locked in place.  Cautiously he tested his
weight on the rope before nodding.
	Turning to Rem, he said, "You remember how to get up there.  I'll meet you
on the top."  Then, he attached the rope to his waist and began the long
climb upwards.
	Nearing the top, he attached himself to the mountain by a different hook,
and withdrew the bolt from the cliff face.  Slowly he pulled himself up the
last ten meters of the cliff until he reached the plateau.  Mearn then sat
down to rest and wait.
	During the climb, the sun slowly sank in the sky, turning the sky itself
from its normal blue to a violet, and on to the black of night.  As the last
traces of sunlight faded, Rem trotted up to him.  It would be a fine night,
he concluded.
	"Alright.  It's time.  You know the routine.  We've been through it often
enough." Mearn said, and moved to a location which offered him more space
between himself and the cliff.  He reached into his satchel and withdrew six
candles, which he lit and placed in a circle around himself.
	Taking a small piece of chalk, he drew a circle connecting the candles,
with an elaborate pattern in the center.  He seated himself in the center of
the pattern, with his satchel beside him.  Rem sat outside the circle at his
back, alert and watching the surrounding area.  Mearn's eyes closed, and he
reached into his satchel again.
	Quickly he withdrew several herbs and sticks of incense which he set around
him with a method unknown to all but him.  At last, eyes still closed, he
began to speak.
	"Watashi wa yami no sampo michi.  Watashi wa yamimegasama o miranakereba
narimasen." he began, his words slow and even.  A bead of sweat appeared on
his forehead, but lost in his chanting, he paid it no attention.
	Gradually, his chanting increased in pace and volume, becoming like a loud
conversation.  It attracted the attention of Darlea, out for an evening walk
to clear her mind.  She recognized the voice as belonging to Mearn, but was
unsure what was happening.  The language he was speaking was unknown to her.
Quickly, she followed the sound of his voice, until she saw him sitting there.
	Mearn wasn't the only one Darlea saw, however, and Rem noticed her as well.
Immediately she began growling.  Darlea paused.  Rem had seemed so friendly
before.  What was happening.
	"Enough of that Rem" Mearn interrupted his chant momentarily.  "Darlea, may
I use you for a moment." his head did not turn, nor did his eyes open.
	"Umm.  Use me for what." Darlea's eyes opened wide, a little fear showing,
though curiosity overpowering it.  The thought 'How did he know I was here'
raced through her mind.
	"I'm sorry.  That must have come out all wrong.  I could use a bit of
assistance for a spell I'm trying to cast.  For some reason I don't seem to
be able to do it myself.  A second person might be able to help me out
considerably."
	"Well, I suppose I could do that.  What do you need me to do?" Darlea's
fear faded at Mearn's words.  'Is he joking, or does he seriously think he
can work magic?' she thought.  Perhaps he knew something.  In either case,
it probably couldn't hurt to help him.
	"Just sit here in front of me.  I'll take care of most of it.  At some
point, I'll take hold of your shoulder.  At that point, you may feel a bit
of a drain.  If so, it's part of the magic.  It won't hurt you in any way,
though it may make you rather tired."
	"Alright."  Darlea sits down in front of Mearn, and his eyes close again.
	Quickly Mearns hand darts out and brushes away the herbs and incense that
he had spread out before, and he reaches to his satchel, producing the same
herbs and incense again.  His chanting began again.
	Gradually, whether due to the rhythm of Mearn's chant, or due to the
calmness of the air, or some other factor, Darlea's mind slowly quiets of
random thoughts.  Mearn's chanting increases in pace and volume, and the air
seems to grow even more still.
	"So close" Mearn quietly mutters during a small pause in the chanting.  A
rush of emotions flood over his face.  Anger, fear, despair, sadness,
resolution.  His right hand reaches into his satchel one last time and draws
out a knife.
	Darlea gasps as Mearn holds the knife up, but his eyes still do not open.
He slowly brings his right hand over, and runs the knife along it, drawing
blood.  Darlea gasps again.  Mearn's hand closes around the knife blade,
blood slowly dripping onto the herbs he so carefully placed a moment before.
	Suddenly his right hand grabs her left shoulder.  Darlea sees a swirling
patch of blackness form over Mearn's left shoulder.  The blackness slowly
coalesces into a womans face.  She is not smiling, but does not appear
angry.  Her lips move, but no sound emerges.
	Darlea then glances to Mearn and notices that he is sweating profusely.
'Why?' she wonders.  The temperature is not that warm here.  He looks exhausted.
	The womans face above Mearns shoulder shrinks to a pinpoint of blackness,
and disappears.  Mearns hand releases Darlea, and he lies back.  A breeze
blows through Darlea's hair, and extinguishes the candles.  Rem approaches
and nuzzles Mearn.  She then moves and sits in front of Darlea.  
	Darlea reaches out to Rem, and the wolf presses her body to Darlea.  'Is
this a gesture of affection?' Darlea wonders.  Mearn opens his eyes, though
he looks skyward instead of at Darlea, and says, "I think she likes you.  It
normally takes a while before she'll do that."
	"What just happened." Darlea asks, her mind coming up with questions faster
than she can catalog them.  "I saw something ..... No.  I saw someone.  Who
was that?"
	Mearn bolts upright.  "You saw her?" he asks.
	"Well, I saw someone.  I don't know who it was though."
	"She had long black hair, no apparent pupils in her eyes, and looked fairly
pale, right?" Mearn asks.  He has obviously seen her before.  Darlea nods.
	"Then it did work.  I didn't think it had.  Though, if it takes this much
effort just to contact her, I don't think I'll be able to do anything else
magically.  That should have been simple.  I should have been able to reach
her just by thought.  I've NEVER used blood during magic before.
	"I'm sorry.  I guess I do owe you an explanation.  She is my teacher.  When
I first began to learn magic at home, she came to me one night and offered
to teach me in exchange for my servitude.  I wasn't terribly thrilled with
the offer at the time.  I turned her down.  Eventually, though, I learned
her name, and I accepted her offer then."
	"What is her name that it made you change your mind?"
	"Her name is 'Night' She is the incarnation of the night.  I've been
working for her ever since."
    Jack Alan Shot -- jackshot@indy.net  -- Just a Shot in the Dark
   P.U.R.P.L.E. Treasurer (People United Respecting Purple Legal Equality)
   -- Second Impact Consulting - When you need the most from the system --
     http://www.indy.net/~jackshot/  - The World According to Jack
             "One taught me of China Roses" -- Enya