Title: Miss Scientist (M/L) Teen (Posted 7/21/2006)
Author: Greywolf
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: Roswell is the sole property of its owners. Any use is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement intended.
Summary: Takes place after Alien Bride (marriage of Isabel to Jesse). The forces of Kivar eventually track down and overcome the surviving aliens and their significant others......
Chronicles of Takan, 317th Historian of Antar
The fall of the Monarchy.
It was in the 43rd century of the interstellar era that saw the end of the monarchy of Antar. It occurred in the 73rd year of power of Kivar the Usurper, who had stolen the throne of Zan. Kivar’s rise was a masterpiece of treachery, stealth, and betrayal, but it was facilitated by the weakness of Zan, particularly weakness with the common people of Antares.
The youthful Zan was a mediocre King, certainly not a bad one in comparison to many of his predecessors, but otherwise undistinguished until his fall to Kivar. His early marriage was an arranged political marriage, to further his influence among the other nobles. He had in fact been raised in a life of privilege, surrounded by other Royals, with little understanding of commoners. By the same token, the commoners little understood Zan, and when Kivar the Usurper fought to gain power, the commoners were late to take sides, too late to save the rule of the young King, too late in fact to save his life. Zan perished with his sister Vilandra, wife, and best friend because the power of the Royals was not enough, absent the support of the commoners, to defeat the Usurper, and all of Antares came under the rule of the Tyrant Kivar.
Desperate to preserve the Succession, Royalists fled Antares with genetic material from the slain Royal Four, and sought refuge on the interstellar frontier, where they hoped to recreate the lineage of the Monarchy. They created alien-Antarean hybrids, to allow the Royal Four to live undetected among the aliens of that frontier world.
Kivar ruled Antar, but that rule was always at risk, since, the common people had now also turned against him. Yet rule he did, by fear and threat, torture and death. Gradually, as his support diminished, he centralized power in his hands alone, trusting no one.
In his 71st year of rule, Kivar attempted to bind the Royalists to him, by becoming the Guardian for Zan II, the result of a treacherous bargain made with the alien-Antarean hybrid mate of the alien-Antarean hybrid of the original Zan. But at birth it was found that the child lacked the sign of Lineage, and neither the Royalists nor the commoners would accept him as heir to the throne.
Kivar continued to rule, but the very ruthlessness that allowed him to control the Royalists drove the common people to resist him. As one group weakened, the other would strengthen, and he at last decided on a plan to ensure the longevity of his reign. He would destroy the hybrid heir to the throne of Antares, publicly that all might see. He would then father a child by Princess Vilandra uniting his rule with that of the Monarchy, with himself Regent for his own child. To this end he pushed his scientists to develop new methods of interstellar transportation, at threat to their families. With their success, he could send vast legions to capture the remaining Royal Three and their Earthly friends, to return them to Antares, Zan for death, the others lives to be ransomed for Vilandra’s cooperation. The alien-Antarean Royal Three fought valorously, even heroically, but in the end the resources of the Three and their friends were no match for that of an Empire.
The end, when it came, had happened quickly for Liz Parker. After six days of bizarre dreams and visions of impending attack, the strangers had come to Roswell. Sensing the nearness of their prey, the strangers had seized the town using weapons and powers that isolated it. Unwilling to cause the death of their friends and family by fighting in the town, Max, Michael, and Isabel had fled with Liz, Maria, and Jesse to the cave of Riverdog where they were finally surrounded by the agents of Kivar. Max, Michael, and Isabel had fought bravely, fought fiercely to protect their loved ones, with even Liz using her meager powers in a futile attempt to break through the ring of attackers, but in the end the numbers of the attackers had prevailed and only the orders of Kivar that the Royal Three were to be taken alive to be returned to Antar had allowed any of them survive. Liz had lost consciousness in a cave in New Mexico, under attack by the strangers. She awoke in the Royal prison of Antar.
Liz awoke lying on a bunk, her eyes slow to focus on the gray ceiling. She looked around slowly, her head throbbing with pain. The room was sparsely furnished, the bunk, a small desk, and a single chair. A small side room was visible, the door to it open, with what appeared to be toilet facilities of unfamiliar design. In the front of the room was an open door, and she got unsteadily to her feet and walked towards it. At the threshold to the door, the air seemed to become electric, and as she got closer static electricity shocked her. She jumped back, then reached out again slowly and the sparks came again to her right hand, increasing in severity and painfulness as the hand approached the threshold. She drew her hand back. A man who had apparently been standing next to the door turned and looked at her and she recognized him as one of the strangers who had come to Roswell.
“The door meters energy as one gets closer to it,” he said. “It is essentially escape-proof. I’d suggest you not try further efforts to pass through it until it is turned off. Should you closely approach the threshold, the power becomes overwhelming for an Antarean, possibly even lethal for you. Kivar has instructed us to keep you alive for now, and he would be greatly displeased with me were you to die.”
“Gee, I’d hate to get my jailer in trouble,” Liz said looking at the man with a frown. “Your consideration is appreciated,” said the guard. Liz decided angrily that whatever language training the stranger group had prior to coming to Roswell may have covered basic English, but apparently not the concept of sarcasm. “I take it I’m not in Kansas anymore?” The man seemed genuinely puzzled by the question, but eventually replied, “You are in a holding cell in Besha, the capitol city of Antar. The Royal Three, yourself, and two other aliens were brought here from your planet. They are in other holding cells.”
Miss Scientist (M/L) Teen complete
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Miss Scientist (M/L) Teen complete
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Aug 14, 2006 1:24 pm, edited 9 times in total.
“Why?” said Liz. Again, the guard seemed puzzled. “For what purpose were we brought here?” Liz asked again. “An unpleasant one, I fear,” said the jailer, who Liz noted even had a facial expression approximating sympathy. “Kivar needs for the people to see Zan die, so the Royalists will realize that he will never restore the old Monarchy. He intends to take Vilandra as his queen, to produce an heir that will unite the Royalists behind him. The Royal you know as Michael, and the humans Maria and Jesse will remain captives to ensure the cooperation of Vilandra , at least until she has provided Kivar with an heir. And then,…who knows? If Kivar still desires Vilandra, they may live on as hostages to her good behavior. If not, they might die and Vilandra as well,” the guard said.
“You, I fear, will suffer an even worse fate. You will die, simply to allow Kivar to take his revenge against Zan, to torment him for the troubles the Royals have caused him for the past 50 years, and to demonstrate to Vilandra his readiness to kill the other humans if she does not accept him.”
“So to you, I am just a pawn in a chess game? Someone to be killed to further a political agenda? This passes for morality here on your planet?” asked Liz with indignation.
“Indeed not, my young alien,” replied the guard. “I bear you no grudge, and would spare you if it were my decision to make. But it is not. You asked a question and I gave you the answer, though perhaps by your culture a lie would have been more of a kindness. I have a family, my mate, my two children, one a daughter nearly your age. I understand well the terror you must feel. But I do what I must, not what I wish, for I cannot save you, however much I might desire it. And the lives of my family would be forfeit were I to try. I am as much a “pawn” in the “chess game” as are you yourself. ”
“Yet you came to my world, to hunt for me and my friends?” asked Liz.
“Kivar’s hunters needed someone who could speak the languages of your world, the only reason that they would have brought along a humble academic professor. Now they use me to make sure you understand Kivar’s plans for you, so they can manipulate you better. Although in fairness, they are as much pawns to the power of Kivar as I am myself.”
Liz spent the night alone in the cell, without even the jailer for company. After she awoke the next morning he returned with a tray of food which he passed through the door to her. The taste was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The jailer sat and watched her through the door as she ate.
“Not in Kansas anymore?” he said with a smile. “No indeed, you are not in Kansas. I found the Terran childrens’ story and read it last night, so I better understand the reference. I am rather impressed actually, that you can meet such a dreadful circumstance with humor. Most Antareans would have known only fright and despair. There is much to be admired in your culture.”
“Then for what reason do you want to side with Kivar and destroy it?” she asked. “Because Kivar is strong, and although he is hated by many he is certainly feared by all. Few people want to be in the many that would have to die to unseat him.”
Daktar watched the young girl, young as his own daughter, look at him with bitterness. “Then perhaps,” she said, “the people of Antar deserve no better ruler than they have…”
“You, I fear, will suffer an even worse fate. You will die, simply to allow Kivar to take his revenge against Zan, to torment him for the troubles the Royals have caused him for the past 50 years, and to demonstrate to Vilandra his readiness to kill the other humans if she does not accept him.”
“So to you, I am just a pawn in a chess game? Someone to be killed to further a political agenda? This passes for morality here on your planet?” asked Liz with indignation.
“Indeed not, my young alien,” replied the guard. “I bear you no grudge, and would spare you if it were my decision to make. But it is not. You asked a question and I gave you the answer, though perhaps by your culture a lie would have been more of a kindness. I have a family, my mate, my two children, one a daughter nearly your age. I understand well the terror you must feel. But I do what I must, not what I wish, for I cannot save you, however much I might desire it. And the lives of my family would be forfeit were I to try. I am as much a “pawn” in the “chess game” as are you yourself. ”
“Yet you came to my world, to hunt for me and my friends?” asked Liz.
“Kivar’s hunters needed someone who could speak the languages of your world, the only reason that they would have brought along a humble academic professor. Now they use me to make sure you understand Kivar’s plans for you, so they can manipulate you better. Although in fairness, they are as much pawns to the power of Kivar as I am myself.”
Liz spent the night alone in the cell, without even the jailer for company. After she awoke the next morning he returned with a tray of food which he passed through the door to her. The taste was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The jailer sat and watched her through the door as she ate.
“Not in Kansas anymore?” he said with a smile. “No indeed, you are not in Kansas. I found the Terran childrens’ story and read it last night, so I better understand the reference. I am rather impressed actually, that you can meet such a dreadful circumstance with humor. Most Antareans would have known only fright and despair. There is much to be admired in your culture.”
“Then for what reason do you want to side with Kivar and destroy it?” she asked. “Because Kivar is strong, and although he is hated by many he is certainly feared by all. Few people want to be in the many that would have to die to unseat him.”
Daktar watched the young girl, young as his own daughter, look at him with bitterness. “Then perhaps,” she said, “the people of Antar deserve no better ruler than they have…”
Then perhaps,the people of Antar deserve no better ruler than they have…
Daktar looked into her eyes, and then looked away, suddenly ashamed. He’d had such thoughts himself over the last 30 years, longer than this young alien had known life. The Usurper was strong, that was true, but had the people of Antar, Royalists as well as commoners, been ready to make the sacrifice, Kivar could have been deposed. At one time he had actually thought a revolution might happen, but as Kivar had centralized his power he had struck with such terror that the revolution had never come.
As he looked in the young girl’s eyes he saw a fire that once he might have seen in the oppressed people of Antar, but no more, not for decades. She saw things clearly, this young girl. And although he could sense her fear about her upcoming torture, her upcoming death, he knew she would meet that with the same fire, not cowering before her fate.
Daktar himself had once dreamed of doing something, even some hopeless gesture. But it would not just be him that paid for his protest, but his mate and children as well, and even his brother and sister and their children. Kivar had perfected terror almost as an art form. It was truly the man’s only talent. His heart went out to this child, and he cursed himself knowing that Kivar had put him here to make sure she understood the fate awaiting her, so in the days to come that knowledge would drive her fear, drive her to act in ways, when that moment came, that would be to the advantage of Kivar. And Daktar would do as he was told, because to do otherwise was death for his family. But he could at least admire this young girl, and he began to hope that she was as strong as she seemed, as determined as she seemed, because if she could die well before the people, perhaps some could learn from her courage, be inspired by it, and the victory Kivar sought from her death would be denied him.
There was little he could do, he realized, to help her. But he could be kind to her, as kind as the situation permitted. And maybe when the time came he would risk his life, risk the lives of all of those he loved, to spare her pain as she passed on. He would think upon this.
Daktar looked into her eyes, and then looked away, suddenly ashamed. He’d had such thoughts himself over the last 30 years, longer than this young alien had known life. The Usurper was strong, that was true, but had the people of Antar, Royalists as well as commoners, been ready to make the sacrifice, Kivar could have been deposed. At one time he had actually thought a revolution might happen, but as Kivar had centralized his power he had struck with such terror that the revolution had never come.
As he looked in the young girl’s eyes he saw a fire that once he might have seen in the oppressed people of Antar, but no more, not for decades. She saw things clearly, this young girl. And although he could sense her fear about her upcoming torture, her upcoming death, he knew she would meet that with the same fire, not cowering before her fate.
Daktar himself had once dreamed of doing something, even some hopeless gesture. But it would not just be him that paid for his protest, but his mate and children as well, and even his brother and sister and their children. Kivar had perfected terror almost as an art form. It was truly the man’s only talent. His heart went out to this child, and he cursed himself knowing that Kivar had put him here to make sure she understood the fate awaiting her, so in the days to come that knowledge would drive her fear, drive her to act in ways, when that moment came, that would be to the advantage of Kivar. And Daktar would do as he was told, because to do otherwise was death for his family. But he could at least admire this young girl, and he began to hope that she was as strong as she seemed, as determined as she seemed, because if she could die well before the people, perhaps some could learn from her courage, be inspired by it, and the victory Kivar sought from her death would be denied him.
There was little he could do, he realized, to help her. But he could be kind to her, as kind as the situation permitted. And maybe when the time came he would risk his life, risk the lives of all of those he loved, to spare her pain as she passed on. He would think upon this.
Liz wasn’t sure about Daktar, but the words of anger she had thrown at him seemed to have changed him somewhat. He treated her with….respect, even with honor. He asked her first if she wanted to know what would soon happen to her, telling her that this was what Kivar wanted, that he was to give her that knowledge for Kivar’s purposes, to frighten her. He asked, if her fate could not be changed, did she even want to know what was to happen to her? And she’d told him that she did, that where there was life there was hope, and that it was not her way to blindly accept fate.
She would struggle against what was to come, and the more information she had the more tools she had with which to make that struggle. Kivar had great power, he had told her, more than anyone in Antar. Had Michael or Max practiced their powers continuously from infancy, they might have one day challenged him, but not while so young. Kivar had reigned for eighty years, and with the help of his healers, might reign for another eighty years, and he grew stronger each year. All of those captured had been tested, and her captors had been amused to find that she had powers. Almost trivial in their strength, her powers could not harm Kivar, or even one of his guards. Yet the young hybrid-Zan loved this girl, for all her weakness, and Kivar had decided to use the girl politically, to destroy the will of the remaining Royalists. The girl would be tortured, by Kivar himself. Zan would be there, restrained, unable to use his own powers. The girl would die slowly, agonizingly, in front of Zan. If he would renounce his throne, he could join this girl in a quick death. Their deaths would convince Vilandra of what awaited the others if she refused Kivar, and convince the people that had hoped for the return of the young king Zan that they too must submit.
Hearing the plan, Liz felt panic growing slowly inside of her. Political intrigue was new to her. She was familiar with the science lab, comfortable with experiments and formulae, but this was unlike that. She tried to calm down, reaching for the types of decisions familiar to her. She would make it into a scientific problem. How would someone weaker, defeat someone stronger? When force went against force, the stronger always seemed to win. But there were martial arts, like Judo, where the weaker could through skill and knowledge, turn the strength of the stronger against them. Could she do this with her powers, weak as they were compared to Kivar? What did she know about Kivar? What did she know about Antareans? What did she know about life and death itself? She would have to think about this awhile.
She would struggle against what was to come, and the more information she had the more tools she had with which to make that struggle. Kivar had great power, he had told her, more than anyone in Antar. Had Michael or Max practiced their powers continuously from infancy, they might have one day challenged him, but not while so young. Kivar had reigned for eighty years, and with the help of his healers, might reign for another eighty years, and he grew stronger each year. All of those captured had been tested, and her captors had been amused to find that she had powers. Almost trivial in their strength, her powers could not harm Kivar, or even one of his guards. Yet the young hybrid-Zan loved this girl, for all her weakness, and Kivar had decided to use the girl politically, to destroy the will of the remaining Royalists. The girl would be tortured, by Kivar himself. Zan would be there, restrained, unable to use his own powers. The girl would die slowly, agonizingly, in front of Zan. If he would renounce his throne, he could join this girl in a quick death. Their deaths would convince Vilandra of what awaited the others if she refused Kivar, and convince the people that had hoped for the return of the young king Zan that they too must submit.
Hearing the plan, Liz felt panic growing slowly inside of her. Political intrigue was new to her. She was familiar with the science lab, comfortable with experiments and formulae, but this was unlike that. She tried to calm down, reaching for the types of decisions familiar to her. She would make it into a scientific problem. How would someone weaker, defeat someone stronger? When force went against force, the stronger always seemed to win. But there were martial arts, like Judo, where the weaker could through skill and knowledge, turn the strength of the stronger against them. Could she do this with her powers, weak as they were compared to Kivar? What did she know about Kivar? What did she know about Antareans? What did she know about life and death itself? She would have to think about this awhile.
If Kivar thought that holding the young alien imprisoned would terrify her, he had apparently underestimated this Liz Parker, thought Daktar. Instead of getting more and more frightened, this young alien girl was constantly asking him questions, picking his brain, eager to learn all she could about the Antareans. Daktar thought with some bitterness that his Antarean students, back when he’d been a teacher, had not been nearly as eager to learn as this young alien.
Much of what she asked was not in fields he was familiar with, Antarean physiology, Antarean medicine, and the biochemistry of Antarean bodies. Daktar knew few of the answers when asked, but would research them and was usually able to tell her the next day most of what she wanted.
He found that Antareans really knew less in many fields than the young alien knew herself, for they had healers who could cure people without truly understanding the science involved. He talked to some Antarean physicists about entropy and other questions the young alien girl had put to him, and brought her their answers, although he really didn’t understand them himself. She would ask questions about chemical reactions, energy of activation, and other subjects, and he would also relay those answers, not quite sure what the answers meant, although she seemed to understand them.
Although Daktar thought there was little purpose in her actions, these things kept the young alien busy, kept her mind off her upcoming torture, and enabled Daktar to help defeat Kivar’s plan to drive the young alien girl crazy with terror.
In the end, he found he really did like the young alien. He found her courage remarkable and her intellectual curiosity exceptional.
Much of what she asked was not in fields he was familiar with, Antarean physiology, Antarean medicine, and the biochemistry of Antarean bodies. Daktar knew few of the answers when asked, but would research them and was usually able to tell her the next day most of what she wanted.
He found that Antareans really knew less in many fields than the young alien knew herself, for they had healers who could cure people without truly understanding the science involved. He talked to some Antarean physicists about entropy and other questions the young alien girl had put to him, and brought her their answers, although he really didn’t understand them himself. She would ask questions about chemical reactions, energy of activation, and other subjects, and he would also relay those answers, not quite sure what the answers meant, although she seemed to understand them.
Although Daktar thought there was little purpose in her actions, these things kept the young alien busy, kept her mind off her upcoming torture, and enabled Daktar to help defeat Kivar’s plan to drive the young alien girl crazy with terror.
In the end, he found he really did like the young alien. He found her courage remarkable and her intellectual curiosity exceptional.
Almost without understanding it, Daktar came to look upon the young girl as one of his own children. When the morning came that she was to be publicly tortured and killed, he made a decision that might cost him and his family dearly, but he found he could do no less.
He brought to the young girl a poison that she could take that would first numb her pain, and ultimately let her die with minimal pain, and die well, not giving Kivar the weapon he desired to use against he who was once Zan.
To his great surprise, she refused it. “I need my wits about me to deal with Kivar,” she answered, although Daktar realized that the power of Kivar was so great this young girl could not possibly hurt him. “And if I cannot, I would not endanger you or the people you love by letting you be caught helping me,” she finished.
Hearing this, Daktar held her in a tight embrace, praying to the Creator that the young girl would pass quickly, with little pain.
When the escort came he accompanied her, tears streaming unashamedly from his eyes as they went to the public spectacle that had been arranged by Kivar.
He brought to the young girl a poison that she could take that would first numb her pain, and ultimately let her die with minimal pain, and die well, not giving Kivar the weapon he desired to use against he who was once Zan.
To his great surprise, she refused it. “I need my wits about me to deal with Kivar,” she answered, although Daktar realized that the power of Kivar was so great this young girl could not possibly hurt him. “And if I cannot, I would not endanger you or the people you love by letting you be caught helping me,” she finished.
Hearing this, Daktar held her in a tight embrace, praying to the Creator that the young girl would pass quickly, with little pain.
When the escort came he accompanied her, tears streaming unashamedly from his eyes as they went to the public spectacle that had been arranged by Kivar.
Daktar was beside the girl as she was lead in to the auditorium.
A large crowd had been assembled to witness he who had been Zan renounce his throne and his subsequent execution. The Royal Three were imprisoned in a force chamber in front of Kivar’s throne where they could witness at first hand the fate of the young girl, without being able to use their own powers to help her.
Daktar saw he who had been Zan follow the steps of the girl with his eyes, seeing nothing else despite the huge crowd assembled.
Kivar’s arrival was announced, and all bowed toward his throne as he entered, all that is except for the Three Royals, and the young girl.
Kivar looked at her with rage and signaled the guards to make her bow, and one took a baton and slapped her with it across the calves, forcing her to kneel. Although he himself had bowed, Daktar could still see the eyes of he who had been Zan, and they shone fire when the young girl was struck.
When the people rose, Kivar addressed Daktar directly, commanding him to translate every word he said for the girl, so she would know her fate, and know that only he who was Zan could affect what was to be.
Daktar’s eyes were moist with tears as he addressed the girl. “Milady, I have been commanded to tell you that you will be tortured by Kivar himself, that he will scourge you with fire unless he who was Zan renounces his throne, but that if he does then you and Zan will receive a quick and merciful death. He gives you this opportunity to tell Zan now that you want this ended with merciful quickness.”
The young girl looked at her love, their eyes held each other briefly, and then she said, “Do not give up, Max. If I live or die, do not give up.”
A large crowd had been assembled to witness he who had been Zan renounce his throne and his subsequent execution. The Royal Three were imprisoned in a force chamber in front of Kivar’s throne where they could witness at first hand the fate of the young girl, without being able to use their own powers to help her.
Daktar saw he who had been Zan follow the steps of the girl with his eyes, seeing nothing else despite the huge crowd assembled.
Kivar’s arrival was announced, and all bowed toward his throne as he entered, all that is except for the Three Royals, and the young girl.
Kivar looked at her with rage and signaled the guards to make her bow, and one took a baton and slapped her with it across the calves, forcing her to kneel. Although he himself had bowed, Daktar could still see the eyes of he who had been Zan, and they shone fire when the young girl was struck.
When the people rose, Kivar addressed Daktar directly, commanding him to translate every word he said for the girl, so she would know her fate, and know that only he who was Zan could affect what was to be.
Daktar’s eyes were moist with tears as he addressed the girl. “Milady, I have been commanded to tell you that you will be tortured by Kivar himself, that he will scourge you with fire unless he who was Zan renounces his throne, but that if he does then you and Zan will receive a quick and merciful death. He gives you this opportunity to tell Zan now that you want this ended with merciful quickness.”
The young girl looked at her love, their eyes held each other briefly, and then she said, “Do not give up, Max. If I live or die, do not give up.”
In the force chamber, Michael looked at Max and Isabel and shook his head. ‘She’s going to do the Braveheart thing,’ he said to himself.
These earth girls were tough, he thought, remembering how Maria had stuck with him despite all of his faults.
He doubted Liz would survive this encounter, doubted any of them except perhaps Isabel would survive today, and certainly didn’t envy Isabel if she did.
He remembered how he’d once stolen Liz’ journal to read it and see if she could be trusted. ‘Trusted,’ he thought bitterly. She had proven over and again that she would die for her alien friends, if need be. How could he ever have doubted her?
These earth girls were tough, he thought, remembering how Maria had stuck with him despite all of his faults.
He doubted Liz would survive this encounter, doubted any of them except perhaps Isabel would survive today, and certainly didn’t envy Isabel if she did.
He remembered how he’d once stolen Liz’ journal to read it and see if she could be trusted. ‘Trusted,’ he thought bitterly. She had proven over and again that she would die for her alien friends, if need be. How could he ever have doubted her?
Isabel looked up at Liz above her near the throne. Liz should have been terrorized, Isabel certainly was, just watching what was happening. But Liz seemed defiant, almost eager to face Kivar.
Isabel remembered how she had felt when she’d first heard that Max had healed Liz, and told her their secret. She had been so frightened that Liz would turn against them. Now, years later, Liz was about to go through hell for her friends.
Isabel knew that this was also about her. Would she be willing to give Kivar what he wanted to save Maria and Jesse? Or should she too just attack Kivar when he came to her, knowing she couldn’t win, but forcing him to kill her, denying him the victory he sought?
She looked again at Liz and said to herself, ‘May the Creator be with you my sister….’
Isabel remembered how she had felt when she’d first heard that Max had healed Liz, and told her their secret. She had been so frightened that Liz would turn against them. Now, years later, Liz was about to go through hell for her friends.
Isabel knew that this was also about her. Would she be willing to give Kivar what he wanted to save Maria and Jesse? Or should she too just attack Kivar when he came to her, knowing she couldn’t win, but forcing him to kill her, denying him the victory he sought?
She looked again at Liz and said to herself, ‘May the Creator be with you my sister….’
Last edited by greywolf on Thu Jul 27, 2006 1:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
As he saw her, Max became filled with impotent rage. He assaulted the force field, almost connecting with Liz, determined to share her pain, to share her fate, whatever it was. They would endure the pain together, they would live or die together. But then he felt her aura push the connection away, denying him this sharing.
A whisper came through the almost-connection, ‘No matter what happens, my darling, I will always love you.’ Then she closed her mind to him.
A whisper came through the almost-connection, ‘No matter what happens, my darling, I will always love you.’ Then she closed her mind to him.