Note:  This begins sometime around half a year to a year ago.

-=*=-

*Must.  Go.  Must.  Go.*  The refrain repeated endlessly in Tryllis's
mind.  She didn't care.  If there was nonsense in her brain, at least it
meant she wasn't thinking about--

She pulled her thoughts away from that, quickly, almost panicked at how
she had carelessly allowed her thoughts to wander.  *Away from here. 
Away from here,* she began again.  Anything to keep her thoughts benign.

The click of the door distracted Tryllis's attention, and she looked up,
eyes dull and uninterested.  *At least she looked up,* the man entering
thought as he surveyed the girl.  *Who would have thought that one
death, however close, could have such an effect.*  For a moment the man
allowed his mind to dwell on the memory of the same girl, smiling
brightly in the sun, laughing at some joke told to her by her brother. 
Her brother who was dead.

The sunny memory faded away, and the man moved on into the room, his
gaze carefully avoiding the tearstained eyes and the disheveled hair,
previously so well cared for.  "You know the dragon affinity is rare,"
he began, as if uncertain how to begin but moving on anyway.

Tryllis looked up to meet his eyes, her own eyes as dark and hard as
amethyst.  "They are not going to let me go," she said, each word an
accusation.  The man shook his head quickly.  "They are not going to let
you go to my parents home," he corrected, gently.  "You must go to a
warren, but you do not have to stay here."

Tryllis drew in a deep breath, for a moment feeling the rage that this
declaration gave her.  Would they never cease to meddle in her life? 
And then, in almost the same instant, the rage was gone as if it had
never been.  She allowed herself to feel triumph at that banishment for
a second, then rid herself of that too.  It was too dangerous.  She did
not have the time nor the strength to deal with the images emotion was
all to likely to call.

"Can we go now?" she asked, not looking up in time to catch the hurt
such abruptness caused the man in front of her.  He had been a friend,
and a good one.  But her brother was dead.  And with that thought, she
drew in a breath of hurt and anticipation of pain.  But the images,
images of a past long forgotten and well deservedly so, she often
thought, the images did not come.  

And the man continued as if nothing had happened.  "Yes, Tryllis, we can
go now."  If his voice sounded defeated, she did not notice.  She was to
busy with thoughts of her own.  Bewildered and relieved, she allowed her
mind to move over the memory of images she had seen in the time since
her brother's death.  Memories only, bland and mostly unable to harm,
even in their hurtfulness.  Of a man, an arrow sticking out of his chest
and his eyes wide and unseeing.  A woman, blood pouring down her face
and covering her clothes.  Another man, his eyes wide with surprise as
he stared at a tiny dart, poison covered, sticking in his arm.  A child,
and this was the worst, a child alone and lonely on a barren field,
crying tears of blood and staring at the bleak sun above.  

She let out her breath.  Memories, but still hurtful, she concluded
uneasily.  It would be well to be away from this place where memories
even more painful were too thick for her to walk unhindered.  Where
every corner hid some place where he had been, and where they had been
happy.  "Then let us go," she said quickly to the rider, standing and
picking up a case already packed.  "I am ready."

Without another word the man turned and led the way out the door,
through the warren, and gently helped her up onto a indigo dragon. 
"Hey, Dranar," his soft voice caressed the name of his dragon as he
pulled himself into position behind her.  The dark dragon flung himself
into the air, and then was gone elsewhere in the time it took to blink.

-=*=-

She sat on Dranar, waiting for Vretane to return.  He said he had to go
talk to the WarrenLady of Xylian Warren, but she didn't see why it was
taking so long.  Idly, her hand reached forward to stroke Dranar's neck,
the gentle motion gentling her thoughts and giving her face a peaceful
aspect for almost the first time since her brother's death.

Vretane smiled at the picture presented by the large dragon and the
unruly girl, looking too much like a child on top of his dark colored
dragon.  "Tryllis," he called out.  She looked up, her face turning
wary.  "The WarrenLady said that you could go live with my parents until
their next hatching," he said, watching as his words stilled the wary
look in her eyes.  And even left her with, perhaps, just the barest hint
of a smile on her lips.  Vretane continued, "You'll like it there. 
Lotherra is a green land, and my parents will understand."  

"I'm glad," was all she said, but as she looked around the place,
obviously a warren, if one without memories, she shuddered.  "I don't
know if I could live here," she added, almost too softly for him to
hear.  But he did, and nodded as he pulled himself up behind her again,
and again the dragon leaped into the air and was gone.

-=*=-

"This is the child?  Oh, dear one, I feel for you in your loss."  The
words were the formal words of mourning, but the tone was sincere. 
Tryllis looked up to meet the sympathetic blue eyes of Jorina, Vretane's
mother, and the tears that she had thought long since exhausted blurred
her eyes again.  Then one trickled down her cheek, and Jorina moved
forward, without thought, to engulf her in a large hug.  Tryllis let
herself relax against the large woman, and as the tears poured
unhindered down her cheeks, she let the images come as they would,
allowing herself to take comfort in the arms around her, protecting
her.  

And the images were less real that time, and sooner gone.

-=*=-

It was night, and there were soldiers.  Panic spread more quickly than
the wind, and rumor more quickly even than that.  There were rumors, but
there was no fact besides the obvious.  Danger was abroad that night.

When the sullen glow of fire appeared over the trees, they knew it was
time to go.  It was a small fire, contained, but close.  Jorina had
already gathered what was necessary, and Lamar, her husband, had bundled
it together into packs for each of them.  Tryllis picked up her pack,
fear a cold knot in her stomach.  She was sure she had never been more
afraid.  There were ghostly images skittering on the edges of her
vision, but she would not let them come any closer to her.  She had more
important things to pay attention to.

Following the dark clad figures of Jorina and Lamar as they moving
through the woods as quietly as shadows, she tried her best to imitate
their skill, but with every twig that cracked, she knew she failed. 
>From somewhere, she could hear shouting, and still the faint glow of the
fire lingered behind them.  Her eyes strained to pick up any motion, any
danger.  With her desperate need, the images had completely disappeared,
but she didn't notice.  She was too busy being afraid.

And then it was morning, finally.  A still morning, with the muted
chirping of the birds giving their message of peace, for now at least. 
They met their neighbors from the farm that had burned in the night; 
most of them were still alive.  They avoided another band of soldiers,
and slowly their band of people too afraid to go back to their homes
grew.  Eventually, they grew so big that they attracted attention, but
it was the right kind of attention.  Dragonfolk directed the scared
farmers to go to Warren lands.  They would be safe there.

-=*=-

The dragon landed near where Tryllis was sitting outside, mending
steadily.  She glanced up as the sudden shadow caught her attention. 
The dragon was brown, the same color her brother's dragon had been, and
for a moment her eyes closed against the pain, but she was almost used
to dragons again.  "You're Tryllis?" the rider questioned as she slid
down from her dragon.

Tryllis nodded, already getting up.  She had been expecting this.  The
rider continued, "It's getting close to time for the eggs to hatch. 
They've said you should come to the warren now."  Tryllis nodded again,
and turned to go get her stuff.  Finding Jorina standing behind her,
regarding the dragonrider evenly, she impulsively threw her arms around
the woman in farewell.  "We'll miss you, Liss," Jorina whispered in her
ear.  "And you'll alway have a place with us if you want it," the woman
continued, voice soft and gentle.

"I know;  thank you," Tryllis whispered back.  Then turned again and
retrieved her belongings.  "I'm ready," she said to the dragonrider as
she returned, her chin rising slightly with the words.  

"Well, hop up then," the rider said, pulling herself up onto her dragon
and then holding out a hand for Tryllis's bag.  Tryllis was soon on the
back of a dragon again, waving wildly to Jorina as the dragon lept into
the air.

And in no time at all she was back at a warren again.  She looked
around, her mixed feelings showing all too obviously on her face.  For a
moment it looked like she was ready to hop off of the dragon and run,
just to be away, but then her posture stiffened and a look of grim
determination appeared in her eyes.  "What now?" she asked the rider as
she slipped off of the brown dragon's back.

-=*=-

NRPG:  Well, I got her to Xylian, at least.  I hope that's something
like what you had in mind, Jill. :)  Hey, everyone. *waves, smiling* I'm 
Francis.

Respectfully submitted,
Francis Campion
Tryllis Artinor, Xylian Warren
eng281@umslvma.umsl.edu

         _____)\
         )   ,~ \             > >>     >>>>        >>>>
     /\    )/ | \\~*~^;~.,  />  >  >   >          >
    /  \,.-  )'  ,~~(_,-'   \>>   >    >>>        >
   /_____     ,~'~.            > >     > rancis    >>>>ampion
   \     \,~~'    \)

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