Being the neice of the wealthy Justarius Rosad has had its advantages; the chief of these coming into my claim on the very day of my birth. I speak of my adoption, for when my parents died...whoever they might have been...I was sent to live with my uncle and cousin. So began the shaping of the days of my life.
From the very beginning of my memory in my uncle's house I recall the difference that I felt within the very marrow of my bones. The art ran within me, and though magic fueled my blood I knew that it was not the magic of Jenna and her father. I listened nightly to their ramblings of balance and heard them warn me about the orders of white and black.
I grew beside Jenna as a sister and together we advanced towards the graces of womanhood, though not hand in hand. While we were both ambitious enough we deviated in the ways in which we accomplished things as well as the forms of the art that each of us grasped. Thusly it became clear to me that while Jenna and her line would always serve Lunitari my path lay with the God of the white, and when Jenna announced her intentions; I announced mine as well.
Life as a white acolyte in a house of reds was not easy, but instead of swerving me from my chosen path it merely urged me on. In my thirteenth year Justarious was called to the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. Jenna and I were to go with him and study our respective arts, but I wanted none of it. Already I felt the silver of Solinari within my blood and I had begun to tap it for myself. I wanted none of the interventions of the masters of the Tower, so when we set off for the Tower I dissappeared into the woods to live on my own.
Immediately the forest embraced me and I became one with it. As surprising as that may have been I slipped into the relationship I shared with nature as a powdered hand into a glove. To this day a part of me sings that I owe this affinity to my lost parents.
Though even as the forest embraced me the inhabitants within did not, and the course of my life changed when I became the brunt of the faerie's wrath. Twas no fault of my own, nor the pitiful creatures that perished beneath me boot. Imagine my chagrin upon pulling aside my alabaster skirts and seeing the crushed bodies of the folk below...for I had not seen them. Imagine further, my terror at the appearance of the clan's dire shaman...who through some twist of fate had survived...as he wrought down upon me a curse of lycanthropia..to take course upon me in the manifestation of the first creature I should encounter.
It wasnt until later that night that the moth landed upon my hand and gave me the kiss of its kind. Regarding it in horror and resignation I felt its wings flutter within my mind. Insane with fear and primal instinct I roamed the forest for the next years in moth form when the moon was full and human form when it was not. I remember little of those years as the intellect of the moth is not vast. Gradually I gained control over the curse and learned to control it and use it to the best of my interests.
It was in Moth form that I dwelt and spied upon the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth. In the form of the moth I watched as Jenna excelled in her studies and Justarius rose thru the ranks. And it was in this form that I learned of my uncle's death and watched as Jenna fled from the tower during the night.
I traced her to Palanthus were she dwelt in her father's old estate. A moth needs no home, and I was more than comfortable in the recesses of her magic shop. It was from a tapestry of Kiri-Jolith that I perched and first saw the Lord of the Tower of Palanthus. Dalamar the Dark he was and he sang to my woman's body even within the guise of the moth. I fluttered to his robe and settled unnoticed within its folds. I listened jealously as he bantered with my brazen scarlet cousin, oh how she melted as putty in his hands. Eventually he left and carried me with him back to his Tower.
Within the Tower I was forced to remain in the guise of the moth for most of a three years. I watched all as they came and went learning the habits of all and recording them, filing them for later use. Occasionally I even took my human form and paid my respects upon the mages within always when Jenna was away and always under the name of Moth. My true identity I saved for the day when Dalamar would be mine. For that was my ultimate goal.
Within three years of constant and covert observation one may learn much about the social web of the occupants within. I regarded Raistlin as he sat every night silently working amidst the conversation around him oft times glancing to his hour glass and looking towards the door for some sign of Redrose. Salanthin was never aware that I admired his grace in our art and often yearned for him in the silver part of my soul. From draperies above I watched the passion play of Malikite and Shaldow; neither was ever aware that I was present the night that she burned herself before him; only to escape. Quidor the Wanderer fascinated me as he attracted women by the scores and yet refused to submit to any of them as he pined for the love of his lost Nicholette. I silently observed Ssslithah arrive from the ashes and slip away before Amylase could apprehend him, and I smiled as Tauron the Darkone took the lovely plane shifter upon his arm. From shadows above I watched Seiken as he sat alone occupied in the shadows of his mind. And I watched Jenna as she seduced men and made love to the tower lord. I watched her as she fell down the stairs and broke her neck, and i did not regret her loss to the world as I shifted and approached her broken form in the arms of Lord Scream.
Instantly all of my dreams became feasible. As she died she gave me the chance to live. I burned her body in the cleansing white fire of Solinari, purging the world of her existence. Stepping into her sumptuous chambers I steepled my fingers and burned the harsh scarlet accoutrements away replacing them with white and silver. Sighing, I rummaged beneath her bed and withdrew a walnut box. Lifting the lid I gasped as the light fell upon the silver gleam of Faen Tlabbar. Purchased in Schallsea this coveted posession had been meant for me as truly as Baenre had been meant to kill Jenna. Holding it to my breast I smiled and hummed Pachelbel's Canon softly...
Her possessions were not hard to rid myself of. The amulets I gave away to Amylase and Waxier. The Baenre Dagger I gave to Quidor and even felt a bit of sympathy as he wept when I extended it to him. The Xorlarrin spell wand I extended to Salanthin in deference to his skill and position. Her amulet of Lunitari I could not touch and it dissappeared mysteriously some days after her death. I took over her mage ware shop and spell died her robes white for my own use. I slipped into her lifestyle as I had slipped into Wayreth but a few years ago..with ease and adaptability....a powdered white hand into a soft red glove...
Soon her friends had become my friends. With Quidor as my closest I set my sights upon the Tower Lord. Years of observation gave me the strength and insight to play the Tower game as the chess that i excelled at...closing my eyes in brief meditation...I prepared to move my queen...
Arabelle Rosad