Thomas Reid - The Gossamer Plain

"You had every opportunity to turn me down," he retorted. "And my interests go far beyond myself. I succeeded in saving your unborn child's life, rescued it from your tainted influences."

"Ah, at last, your true, disapproving self comes to the fore," Aliisza crowed. "I wondered how long it would take, now that you have me trapped here." Then she gave the angel the most baleful stare she could muster. "I'll tell you this, though. I'd much rather be my kind than your kind," she said. "Arrogant, judgmental, and self-important, too afraid to think big and seize the moment. I may be everything you described, but at least I don't pretend otherwise. I know what I want, and I take what the world has to offer. I don't let any whining, sniveling, unworthy wretch stand in my way."

"And thus we see the foundation of our differences," Tauran said quietly, the edge of anger gone. "You care more about yourself than others, and I care more about others than myself. A crucial difference."

"How? Why?" Aliisza was honestly flummoxed. "What is there to possibly gain by caring more for something else than for yourself? How silly!" she said. The alu turned and began to stroll through the garden. She heard the angel rise from the bench and follow her. She laughed again. "And, by the way, a huge lie. By your account, you should care more about me than about yourself. If that were actually true, you wouldn't have brought me here and locked me in this… this place, knowing I didn't want to be here. How is that caring more for others than yourself?"

"It is precisely because I-and everyone here at the Court-care for your welfare that you are here."

"You mean the welfare of my baby, don't you?"

"That, too, and another part of the explanation."

Aliisza snorted in derision.

"If you don't wish to hear it, I shall leave you to your thoughts," Tauran said in response to her gesture, "but you asked."

"I'm beginning to regret it," Aliisza said. "Leave me alone. There is nothing you can do to comfort me. You and your tribunal consigned me to be here, knowing full well that it is a torture to me to be alone, with no creature contact."

"In the hopes that you would come to see the power and joy of making others happy, rather than just yourself."

Aliisza laughed again, but it was bitter. "I am a girl of carnal pleasures. I crave the delights of the senses. The touch, the smell of others nearby. They experience what I lust for and feel some joy and happiness, too."

"That is a false joy, short-lived, and such a tiny fraction of what is possible if you'd only open your heart to-"

"Enough!" Aliisza interrupted. She spun to face the celestial across a low-walled pool where a fountain with the statues of two human children at play bubbled in the cool night air. "Do not preach to me! I was sent here to contemplate. There was nothing in the judge's words about being tormented by the likes of you!"

Tauran spread his hands in acquiescence and remained silent, though he did not leave.

Aliisza could feel him watching her as she sat down upon the wall of the fountain, fighting to keep from doing the unthinkable. She would not cry in front of the angel. She could not let him see that.

To divert her feelings, she dropped a hand down to the surface of the water and trailed her fingers through it, making wave patterns and watching them mingle and vanish. From where she sat, the moon reflected off the water, though it was distorted and wavered incessantly. She thought about the child that had been growing inside her, thought about all the times in her recent past when she had been reluctant, afraid of harm, and at last understood why. She felt a sense of cold emptiness inside her because the child was gone. Or rather, she was gone from her child. She nearly gave in, then, nearly began to cry despite her struggle not to.

Tauran touched the surface of the water on the opposite side of the pool, and the moon faded from sight in its reflection. Instead, Aliisza saw a different kind of light radiating from within the pool, a warm, flickering light that she recognized as that of lamps. Despite the waves on the water, the image steadied and became clear.

The alu gasped. She saw herself in that image. Not her reflection, but a picture of her, lying still upon a bed, covered by a soft sheet. A figure, a creature with the facial features of a human woman, beautiful and serene, stood beside Aliisza's form, gazing down at her. Like Tauran, the woman had white feathery wings, and she wore the same style of white draping garments. She turned and walked out of the image, leaving Aliisza's body in full view.

"My body," Aliisza said, half to herself. "My corpse, my husk." She swallowed the thick lump she felt in her throat. "With my child inside. The child you took away from me, that I will never see," she snarled, and turned away.

"You asked before how I could explain the dichotomy of my benevolence. How I could care for you more than I care for myself, and yet do this unspeakable thing to you. There, in that image, lies your answer, Aliisza. All beings deserve my care, my compassion. Some accept it, embrace it, return it. Others do not. When those others force me to choose, I choose to defend the oppressed, the victims. That is the way of Tyr, his teachings."

"So, who will defend me from your oppression? Who will grant me relief from my victimization?"

"When you choose to deny others the respect and compassion they deserve, you fall outside of the circle. You are no longer on equal footing."

"No longer worthy, no longer eligible for your care and compassion," the alu spat with all the sarcasm she could muster. "It must feel good, being so perfect."

Tauran's sigh sounded tired, full of regrets. "I will not debate this with you any longer, Aliisza. You chose the path you have followed. Only you can find a route to a new path, through your actions and deeds. When you understand that, when you are ready to change, to show those around you the same consideration that you would want, then I will be here, ready to guide you. Until then, you will remain here and contemplate what it means."

Aliisza felt a pang of fear surge through her. She realized that, despite his arrogant superiority and obvious disdain for her, she did not want Tauran to leave her alone. "When will you return?" she asked, even though she really wanted to ask him to stay. She couldn't ask, though. She refused to appear that weak to the angel.

"Soon," he replied. "But you will not be alone, Aliisza. Others are coming. And you must face them," he said, and the alu heard a warning in those last words. It sent a shiver down her spine.

"What others?" she asked. "Face them how?"

"Those you have wronged in your life," the deva replied. "Those whom you've tread upon to get the things you crave. You must face them, confront what you've inflicted upon them, and decide for yourself what needs to be done."

Aliisza shivered. Suddenly, all the gentle shadows in the garden seemed much darker, more sinister. The chimes blowing in the breezes rang much harsher than before. For the first time in her life, Aliisza was terrified.

All of her personal demons were coming.

"This way!" Zasian shouted, urging his companions to follow.

Vhok parried a club strike from a fiery centaur and jammed the blade of Burnblood into the creature's chest. The bandit bellowed and reared up in pain as the hole erupted with molten goo. The cambion had to fling himself backward to avoid his foe's flailing hooves. That desperate act nearly sent him over the side of the ravine behind him.

The centaur staggered away from Vhok, clutching at its wound, but two more took its place. The half-fiend spun, desperate to keep from being pinned against the edge of the drop-off. He ducked beneath a spear thrust and knocked the stone weapon aside with his scepter. The cambion feinted to his right, luring the pair of bandits to shift their weight that way. When they bought his bluff, he wheeled back to the left. The two centaurs, their black, stony bodies popping and crackling with the effort, struggled to keep up. Again, though, the cambion only feinted.