Long shadows cast across the hall, as the sky turns red with the sunset. Just inside the doorway, there is a pedestal stand, holding three flowers in an exquisitely marbled vase.

The door opens, admitting Jiraud do Nell, a tall, dark and handsome Doberman. His uniform is nicely pressed; his boots and the metal hand-guard of his sword are polished. He turns to look at the vase, and takes a moment to draw out a flower of a ruddy hue like mahogany, tucking the flower into his lapel. "I am here," he announces, "and ready for the challenge … though are you so tired of Sabel that it is you who issue the challenge, rather than myself? If you wish to throw the duel, there are more honorable ways to – "

His call is broken off by the opening of the door again, admitting a second cadet – this one a husky.

At the same time, each one demands of the other, "What are you doing here?"

Then, there's an ominous-sounding thunk on the other side of the door that Cadet Seline von Shanar just entered through. She instinctively checks the door … and finds that it won't budge.

"Welcome. I have been expecting you both," echoes a voice through the now eerily shadowed grand hall. The identity of the speaker is easily enough recognized as belonging to Cadet de Bellefeuille, but her form remains hidden in the dark until she steps into the light at the top of the steps.

Cadet von Shanar wrestles with the door some more, but to no avail. Jiraud looks about for the source of the voice, then smirks when Elise reveals herself. He applauds. "Ah. Well done, well done. I must congratulate you on your theatrics. Now then, Cadet Bellefeuille … what have you brought us here for, other than to try to scare us into submission?" His face returns to a smug smirk as soon as he's finished, and Seline abandons the door to turn to glare daggers up the stairs at Elise's silhouette.

Slowly the Gallee walks forward towards the railing until at last she stops to lean against it. Her slow speed, though possibly appearing dramatic, would more likely seem due to the amount of bandaged wounds she appears to have. No, she does not appear ready for any sort of duel, or much physical strain at all. "I have brought you here to tell a story – one I believe you will be most interested in," answers the cadet. Her left hand reaches under her other arm and draws forth a book which she holds up. The dimly lit title reads, interestingly enough, "The Sword of the First Ones".

Seline sighs, while Jiraud just keeps his mask of perpetual amusement plastered on his muzzle, as he leans back against the wall.

Seeing her guests do not object to listening, or being held captive, Elise nods her head in approval and pushes off the railing. She makes her way towards the stairs as she begins her story. "The story is a tragedy, taking place forty years ago at this very academy. Two students would meet in a duel here in this very house, a quarrel over a mutual love, or an ambush. The nature of it I know not. But I do know one would not leave the grounds alive," she explains, her tone tired and somehow devoid of her usual spirit.

For now, Jiraud and Seline say nothing more. Seline forces herself into something resembling a more relaxed pose, mimicking Jiraud's apparently flippant attitude about the whole thing, though her flattened ears make her true anxiety all too clear to see.

As the poodle walks down the stairs, she can be seen more clearly. Her eyes do not watch the others; her lowered eyes consider the floor as she goes about her story. Her path is slow, and her shoulders dip ever so slightly in a look that may give away the true exhaustion she feels – one more of the spirit than the body. "The cadet who died was indeed, the last of her line. The last hope of a proud military family. Adding to this, no doubt a heart broken – pierced not only by her opponent's blade, but by the sting of such a tragic death." The cadet shakes her head sadly before lifting it to watch the others, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Oh, but as we know dueling with such fatal intentions is strictly forbidden. Shame upon the family who might taint their lineage with such a foul act as killing another student. But, no. No. There was no justice served. No one to rise up and condemn the act. No, no … it was carefully and deliberately hidden away to protect two families."

Jiraud frowns. "Are you trying to make some sort of allegory here? If you're miffed about the outcome of our particular contest, I assure you, my intent was not to do you personal injury."

Elise smirks faintly at the remark, and she pauses half way down the stairs. "If only that were the case, Jiraud. If, only that were so, I would be thankful. And, so might you be," replies Elise. She turns her head off towards the vase and lifts her free hand slowly to gesture at it. "No, this is not about me. Not, exactly. But I do play a part in this story. Anyway, I will continue. The act was hidden away, and so indeed were the people involved. The beloved young man vanished – I could find no trace of where he may have passed to after the duel. He never graduated. The murderer too faded away, not due to a cover up, but ailing health. Tell me Jiraud, Seline, have you ever felt tired in your stays here?"

Seline frowns. "I did get sick. If I hadn't … "

Jiraud rolls his eyes. "Don't use that excuse again!"

Seline frowns more severely. "It is not an excuse. Weakness does not befit a good officer, even in poor health. But I was simply answering her question."

"Do answer the question Jiraud. Your response is important," notes Elise.

The Doberman sneers. "Of course I get tired at times. Who doesn't? I fail to see what that has to do with anything."

"You will see," mentions Elise, purposefully ominous. She resumes her decent down the stairs as she continues deeper into the story. "A vanished young man. I can only theorize he was somehow removed, perhaps permanently, due to what was likely a forbidden relation. You see, the dear boy appeared to have cared for two women not of his breed. Tsk." A few more steps and Elise reaches the bottom. From here she turns and walks towards Jiraud. "And, who was this shame? Why, none other than a man named Guerrier. Guerrier do Nell. That is your relation to this story, Jiraud."

Jiraud props one foot against the wall as he leans back, and folds his arms across his chest as he watches the younger canid continue. His contemptuous look is unmistakable, shaken only briefly by the mention of Guerrier do Nell. "I'm glad I had some place in your little tale."

As Jiraud speaks, the husky glances towards him, and rolls her eyes briefly at his exaggerated indifference.

The Doberman only gets a nod. No pithy remark from Elise this time, however she does stop in front of him to hand him the book. "Do peruse that while I continue. I would recommend keeping your ears on me, however. This is … important," she tells him. Elise then turns to look Seline in the eyes before heading towards her, next. "And who was the murderer? Holder of the sword that plunged through the heart of the very last of her line? This detestable one has a link here too." Again the poodle stops to consider, but she also reaches to take up an icy blue rose from the vase. With this in hand she continues onward. "Why, her name was Kasandra. Kasandra von Shanar."

Seline's gaze on Elise is one of calculated consideration, weighing the poodle's story with some thought, although she appears impatient with the dramatic and evasive pace of the re-telling. At the mention of her name, she frowns, and glances at Jiraud. "Kasandra did… " She breaks off, focusing again on the poodle. "Is this all true, Elise? Where did you come up with this story?"

Dropping his gaze from Elise, Jiraud glances absently through the volume she handed him, his expression not losing its pronounced sneer. "It's some fantasy she invented with a little help from a moldering author, Seline," he answers the husky dismissively.

"Oh, finding the story was not easy. Your families have done much to cover the history of this place from all eyes. But it appears they could not keep everything a secret. I researched this all, and I know the truth," answers Elise as she considers the husky in front of her. A frown crosses the poodle's face and she takes a good few steps back. Her sword arm reaches for the handle of her blade, but as she goes to draw it, she hesitates in order to respond to Jiraud's statement. "That book is quite real, Jiraud. The librarian of the school can confirm it, and I assure you it is quite old. Does the story seem familiar? It should. Oh, and would you flip to the last page? I have some notes and sketches of something I wish Seline to see there."

The Doberman snaps the book shut with a decisive thump. "I don't need to see more. What's your purpose in this concoction? Are you trying to puff yourself up by smearing our good names?" he asks Elise challengingly.

"I am trying to save your lives," answers Elise bluntly. Without another word to Jiraud, the sword is drawn and held up so Seline can see it clearly. "Tell me Seline, does the design upon this blade look familiar to you?"

"Researched what? How?" Seline asks Elise, then gives an exasperated sigh at Jiraud's response. "Well, I want to see what she's come up with. Give me that." She holds out her hand for the volume while she frowns at the blade. "It's the Sword of the First Ones, Elise. I held it once, remember? Of course it looks … familiar … " She grimaces at a sudden thought.

The sword is held steady for all to see, the blade shining softly with the light of the setting sun. "Look carefully." The poodle says nothing more, for now.

The Doberman looks annoyed by Elise's response to him, and stands where he is, making no effort to give von Shanar the book.

Von Shanar draws her own sword and holds the blade alongside the Sword of the First Ones. The similarity between the designs on the two is unmistakable. "It's a personalized crest of the von Shanar family," she says flatly, her surprise at the recognition masked by her bland tone.

At this, do Nell shifts position sharply, stomping his foot. "Don't be ridiculous! That sword's thousands of years old! It is not your crest!"

Seline shrugs at the Doberman's outburst. "My family crest may have been drawn from this very design, for all I know. But this is definitely the sort of variation on it that the von Shanars have used to denote individuals. Are you saying this was Kasandra's sword, Elise?"

Elise lowers the sword she carries now. She nods once again and offers the icy blue rose to Cadet von Shanar. "I believe this was Kasandra's sword. The Sword of the First Ones? No. A sword of murder, which somehow became twisted in a scheme for vengeance. Or is it an attempt at justice? It is a special sword, but not for the reasons we were led to believe. It is … an instrument of revenge. Part of a plan, no doubt, to lure the greatest of the academy to kill the next of the von Shanar line. Perhaps the do Nell line as well. Both, through the heart. Just as she had been. Poor girl … " A sigh, and Elise turns her back to the others and makes her way for the vase, and the last of the flowers. A blood red rose.

Warily, Seline accepts the flower. "All right. Who is the girl you're claiming Kasandra killed?"

Jiraud mutters, "Must be her great-grandmother. She's got to write herself in somehow."

The once delicate, now bandaged hand of the white poodle reaches out and lifts the blood red rose from the vase. Elise holds the flower to the light of the setting sun and stares at it. "So many years have passed since then, and I do not believe she ever rested. It must have been such a long, lonely time. So long for revenge … " The poodle lowers the flower now, but continues to watch it. "No, I am Elise de Bellefeuille. My part in this … is perhaps on page one. I am also a puppet on strings. But, I free myself from them by knowing the truth. You wish to know who was killed? Well, why not ask her yourself?" Again the poodle's gaze turns, and this time she gazes off into the shadows. "I know you can hear me. Please come out, dear."

The husky tucks the rose reflexively into her lapel. She sheathes her sword as the lowerclassman speaks, while her eyes follow first the poodle's motions, then her gaze into the shadows.

A chill breeze blows through the hall, even though all the doors are obviously closed, and there are no visibly open windows.

A shiver at the sudden coolness ruffles Jiraud's resolutely nonchalant composure. He glares daggers at the poodle, not bothering to look to see whom she might refer to.

"Yes, mistress," comes a timid voice. A delicate-looking collie in an old cadet uniform makes her way down the steps. "I was just dusting the furniture. I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to answer your summons."

Seline blinks at Sabel's appearance, and she glances around to see who else might be coming. Then her gaze returns to the collie, and she frowns thoughtfully at the antique cadet uniform the Servant of the Sword wears.

Sabel makes her way down to the bottom of the stairs, then walks over to stand before Elise, bowing her head subserviently. "What is your bidding, Mist – Oh, forgive me. Elise, you wish to be called."

The Doberman smiles involuntarily at Sabel's words, then returns to his habitual sneer. "Did she interrupt your little melodrama, Elise? Come now, who's the dead woman in your tale? We won't wait on this nonsense forever."

"Sabel," Seline's words come slowly, "when were you born?"

The poodle shivers as well, and her ears flatten slightly as the collie makes herself known. "As … as I said before. I would prefer you refer to me as Elise, yes," responds the poodle cadet. Her voice is hollow, and quiet. The words are casual, but the manner in which they are delivered reveal Elise's fear all too clearly. There is a moment of silent consideration of the girl in front of her before Elise reaches to offer Sabel the flower. "And you, there is no need to hide your identity any longer … Cadet Sabel Sanguine."

Sabel backs away from the flower. "I … I don't understand. What is going on?"

Jiraud stares at Elise, then gives a short bark of disbelief. "How many of those blows you've suffered have been to your head, cadet?" he asks derisively. "Is there any mind left working in that skull of yours?"

Von Shanar's ears flatten at the last name the poodle gives Sabel, and she circles warily to one side of where the pair stands. Skepticism wars with curiosity and uncertainty as she watches the collie, waiting to see if she'll answer her question.

"I am quite lucid, Cadet do Nell. Quite, indeed." Again the flower is offered, and Elise steps forward after Sabel. She turns her words to the girl before her. "Forty years, Sabel. Forty years and you have remained. How you became tied to the sword is beyond me, but you are obviously linked to it. There is no taint upon it, because it is you who are the real power," says Elise, her tone regaining some of its strength. "How I felt for you! Oh, to have to suffer like that. And, how ached once I knew. Last of your line, killed by this very sword. Pierced through the heart by your rival in love. How … how sad. How … very sad … "

"You used me, like you used the others. I want to believe your innocence in this; I wanted to believe I had done the right thing and that you are my friend. But I do not know what to make of you now. I only know what facts I hold, and that you drain the life from the living, no doubt to further your existence," adds Elise.

"Seline, don't tell me you're buying into this nonsense tale she's woven! She's insulting your own family name with this rot!" Jiraud's voice is a low growl. "And what's worse is the role she's assigning poor Sabel. You dared to say I treated her badly, Elise? And now you're calling her some kind of… ghost?" Disdain and anger color his words.

The collie backs away again … but in a flash, her subservient pose melts away, as she stands tall and defiant, suddenly a totally different young woman from a mere change in pose. Her eyes fill with bale as she looks back at Elise. "How sad. How so very sad," she says through clenched teeth, "How dare you patronize me! After how I've served you, hand and foot … and this is how you repay me? By shaming me? Have you no honor? HAVE YOU?" she barks, her voice echoing harshly in the hall as if a chorus were joining her cries from every door and nook.

The husky flicks her eyes to Jiraud at his words, hesitating, then her attention snaps back to Sabel, and her ears flatten against her head at the servant's sudden outburst, her eyes widening in surprise. Even the Doberman seems taken aback by Sabel's surge of anger.

"You dare question MY honor? I, who risked my own life to save you from Jiraud's treatment? Who have come here to end this at my own risk, to save these two cadets who have done little to warrant my favor, and to see you finally rest peacefully? No! I will not have my honor questioned by you!" responds Elise in a surge of courage drawn from reserves filled by the events that have passed. Her ears still flatten at Sabel's words, however. She is certainly not standing so strongly as the ghost before her, but she does hold her ground. "I pity you! Not to patronize, but because I have compassion! Because I cared about you. And, I … still do!"

Shaking off his surprise, Jiraud strides forward. "You're not worthy to hold the Sword!" he tells Elise. "I should never have given it to you had I known this was how you meant to honor it – heaping abuse upon its servant!"

Sabel breaks away from her glare at Elise … smiling as she looks upon Jiraud, as a damsel in distress would look upon her hero.

Seline takes a step up the staircase as she backs reflexively away from the scene of the confrontation. "Sabel," she repeats, "when were you born?" Her voice holds steady until quavering on the last word.

Confronted with the two, Elise backs away towards Seline. "You do not know what you do, Jiraud! She is an undead monster; her innocence is merely a guise to trick us. No doubt she herself created these duels once this hall was emptied – in order to lure new life and energy here so that she might yet fulfill her revenge!" Her voice wavers slightly and she glances quickly towards Seline. "Seline! You must not believe her. She drains the life force from others to survive; that is how her murderer died, and that is how all those who stayed here faded."

Sabel looks at Jiraud, tears welling in her eyes. "Listen to her! She has gone mad, accusing me of being nothing short of a monster! Next, will she bid you to cut off my head or do something equally atrocious?" She cowers behind Jiraud, putting him between herself and Elise.

Emboldened by the collie's grateful look, Jiraud squarely positions himself between the Sword's servant and its current wielder. In one swift motion he draws his blade. "I think you've done enough damage since I let you touch that blade. Given your condition, I would not ask to duel you now, but I will not let you keep it any longer. Give it back to me!"

Von Shanar's own blade whispers as she unsheathes it. "Sabel. When. Were. You. Born?" Her gaze upon the collie is steady as she shifts position to keep watch on her when Jiraud interposes his body.

Sabel gives Seline an incredulous "do you mind?" look. "I hardly think trivia appropriate at a time such as this!"

The blade is not handed over. Instead Elise, in a sudden look of one who is struck by an idea, reaches a hand towards her neck. There she grabs a crystal pendant tucked beneath the folds of her uniform and with a snap, yanks the item free. Backing off further, she holds out the crystal as if it were a ward. "Stay back! I will not allow you to hold this sword, for I am not so cruel as to doom you to its fate. Stay back, or I will break it!"

For a moment, Jiraud's heroic pose is disrupted by a bemused frown. "Break it? With a crystal?"

Using Jiraud's moment of confusion, and Sabel's distracted state, Elise flings the crystal at Sabel!

The crystal circles through the air, glinting in the dim light … then impacts Sabel … and keeps going. The pendant passes through the collie … then lands on the floor with an audible clink, skidding across the blood-red tiles.

Eyes narrowed, Seline takes a few more steps up the staircase as she circles wide around Sabel. "I think it's very relevant. It's a simple question for anyone else to answer. Comes right off the top of my head. Odd that for you it would be so hard. When were you born, Sabel?" Her words are almost casual, then she hisses in breath as she sees the crystal pass through the canid.

Sabel lets out a squeak of surprise. "Jiraud, she's attacking me! Please protect me!"

Jiraud turns as the crystal flies past him, but is neither fast enough to block it or to see it go through the Servant of the Sword. He quickly resumes his battle stance as he sees it clatter harmlessly to the floor. "Give it back!" he roars, advancing a few paces towards Elise.

With Jiraud looking the other way, Sabel gives Elise a wicked, self-confident grin … but then quickly flicks back to her "damsel in distress" pose.

Despite knowing, the visual confirmation of the truth brings Elise to gasp suddenly. She – and indeed it changes her appearance little – goes pale. The roars of the Doberman are enough to keep her fear from overwhelming her mind, and further back she goes. "Jiraud, she will use you! She will lead around, but in reality it is you who serve the sword! You will be her puppet until she drains you dry, slowly, unlike the Kavis I killed with the sword!" A quick "help me" glance is given to Seline as the poodle continues to retreat.

"Jiraud, stop thinking with your crotch and use your head! Haven't you noticed that Sabel hasn't denied one word of what Elise said? That she won't even answer the simplest question about her background?" Von Shanar circles further, standing now half-way up the stairs. "Come now, Sabel! Tell us something about yourself! If your name's not Sanguine, what is it? How long have you been at the academy? When did you become Servant of the Sword? Who pays your tuition here?"

Sabel gasps and looks to Jiraud. "Jiraud … Jiraud, I'm so sorry … I should have never gone along with this 'Servant of the Sword' business … I … I have to confess to you … I've always loved you! They're just jealous!"

"I will not strike you Jiraud, because that is exactly what she wishes me to do. To watch me pierce your heart, to see you shrivel and die. No, no … " As Seline challenges the two, Elise continues moving back until at last she pauses. The declaration of love from Sabel causes her to perk her ears in sudden surprise, and her guard drops slightly. "Sabel, he is not Guerrier. I do not know exactly what became of him, but this do Nell is most certainly not your love."

For a moment, Jiraud hesitates at Elise's and Seline's statements. But when Sabel confesses her love, his ears perk and he steels himself, seeming to grow larger and more confident. "I will hear no more of this," he says in a low, dangerous tone. "The sword is rightfully mine, de Bellefueille. Give it to me now, and I will let you leave here alive. Continue with your trash talk at your own peril."

Sabel doesn't respond to Elise's words, smiling confidently as she stands beside Jiraud.

With a deep breath, Elise bites her lip and tenses. She whips the blade around and, instead of striking, grabs it in both hands before swinging it down on her upward moving knee. "I will not let you use us any more!" she cries as the blade races to impact her knee in an attempt to snap it in half.

It's a valiant attempt … but all Elise accomplishes … is to injure her knee from the exertion. The sword only flexes for her trouble.

Sabel cries out, "She's trying to destroy the sword, Jiraud! She's gone mad!"

A wail emanates from the poodle as her attempt to destroy the sword fails. Rather than stay to be cut down, she limps off backward again and lifts the sword in defense. "Seline! Please, I need you! Stop him and I will handle Sabel!"

Seline dashes up the staircase, continuing to pepper Sabel with questions. "Where did you get your uniform, Sabel? Which house are you from? Who are your parents? When were you born, Sabel?" Her voice is strident enough to pierce over even the collie's frantic cries.

"Drop your sword, Jiraud. I … I surrender," says Elise before she lowers her sword slightly to show she means it.

A growl wells up in Jiraud's throat at Elise's failed attempt to destroy the sword. He advances on her, backing her into the wall beside the staircase. "Do you think me so gullible as that, poodle," he sneers. "You can give me the Sword of the First Ones or I can cut you down where you stand! Drop it, now!"

Uncertain of just what to do now, and running out of space to back away to, Elise considers her options carefully. She opts for attacking Sabel, at least verbally. "Sabel, how long have you been manipulating puppets around? Such a proud and noble family ends with an undead monster such as yourself? Do you not realize I came here to strike a bargain with Seline, buy your lands back, and see your line honored? Justice done?"

Behind Jiraud and Sabel, Seline leaps for the chandelier. Grabbing it, she sways awkwardly towards the far side of the hall, then strikes off against the far railing with her feet, redirecting her momentum lengthwise along the hall. Jiraud's incoherent roar of rage almost drowns out what Elise says after "manipulating puppets," and he charges the poodle, bringing his sword back for maximum power to his blow, forgetting all sense of proper technique.

Sabel gives Elise a gloating grin.

As he does so, Seline swings overhead, and releases the chandelier at the proper moment to crash into Jiraud. He staggers from the impact of her legs hitting his back, tumbling towards Elise, his sword clattering from his hands to the floor. The husky's own body twists in the air as she tries to catch herself.

Sabel's gloating grin just as quickly wipes away, as her ears flatten back, and she growls, hunching down like a cornered animal.

Taking this moment to act against Jiraud, Elise drops the sword into her left hand and brings her right around in a fist. Her ornamental chitin gauntlet sails for his face.

The punch lands squarely against his jaw, and the force of the blow spins him half way around. He has time enough to blink, twice, and then he sinks gracelessly to the ground, unconscious.

Miraculously, Seline recovers from her tumble, curling her spine forward and flexing her legs to land on her feet behind Jiraud, between Sabel and the poodle. She sways a moment, recovering her balance, and then turns to face Sabel. "Elise… ," she speaks softly as she looks at Sabel, "will you give me the sword?" She extends one hand back for it.

For once in the day Elise smirks, even as she shakes her hand to try and free it from the pain that caused. "Well, Sabel. There is only you now, and your tricks will not work on me," she says, her confidence once again building with Jiraud's second defeat. Seline gets a look in response to her question, followed by a shake of her head. "No. Your line murdered her before. Even though she has died, and has become twisted over these years by hate … I cannot find it in my heart to have her vanish from the world in such an ironic fashion. I will handle it, but I get no joy in doing so." Her still sore hand again takes up the blade while her left hand signs the symbol of the Star and Anchor across her chest.

Jiraud's fallen sword skids across the blood-red tiles, and Sabel stops it with her boot. "Oh … you'll find me not so easy a kill, Cadet Bellefeuille." With a kick, she knocks the blade up by the handle, and grabs it as it balances for an instant on its tip, then swings the blade up. "I've had some practice over the years," she says, with a wild glint in her eyes.

Von Shanar looks back at Elise in alarm, to catch her making the sign of the Star and Anchor. "No!" She interposes herself between Elise and Sabel. "No … this is the way it started. It can't be the way it ends. Sabel… " She gazes at the collie, half-fearful, half-hopeful. "Sabel, please."

A whisper from the husky. "Please."

With Cadet von Shanar in her way, Elise lowers her sword and nods faintly. "I had hoped it would not end like this, either. Sabel, why are you so bent on hating us? We are not your enemy any longer. We can change things, so that you can rest!"

"Do you not remember how hard I tried to save you from what I thought was your life? I still can help you, if you let me!" calls out Elise from behind Seline.

Sabel raises her sword to position. "Do you really think that history will repeat itself so easily? Do you think you can beat me so easily again? You won't have him!"

Seline unsheathes her blade in the face of Sabel's threatened attack. She raises it to defend herself, gazing evenly into the revenant's eyes, and then shakes her head. "No," she repeats. "Not again." She throws the weapon carelessly to one side, and it clatters harshly against the tiles. "History won't repeat itself. My family's honor is tarnished as much as yours by that incident. It is a blood debt we owe. If this is what it takes to settle it, so be it." She closes her eyes and spreads her arms at her sides, completely vulnerable.

"You do not realize that history has left you behind, Sabel. Look at our faces. Look at our clothes, and the Doberman here. We are not who you knew. We are not your enemies, or your love. Look at us, and remember then. Your love is not here, I think you can see that," says Elise. Her grip on the sword wavers now that Seline has placed herself in such a vulnerable situation. However, the poodle cannot bring herself to interfere – not considering the matter, and her injured state. Helplessness is a feeling Elise cannot help but shiver at now.

Sabel wavers for a moment, though her sword is still held to the ready. "Do not think that I won't strike you! It would be only just! You can't stop me by such … such … cheap heroics!"

As the scene unfolds before her, Elise steps back. She drops her sword to her side, abandoning her defense. She simply steps out of the confrontation and it veers away from her. Waiting, she considers, is all she can do.

Von Shanar breathes evenly, her eyes still closed, hands spread at her side. She lifts her chin slightly, preternaturally calm as she awaits death.

Sabel sputters, "What is this? Do you think that by sacrificing your miserable, pathetic lives, you can somehow destroy me? Do you think I cannot take it from you as I could have done otherwise? Are you simply mad? House Sanguine will be avenged, and this hall will run with blood! By the First Ones, I swear it!" she shrieks.

"Here we are then, Sabel. I who tried to be your friend, I who wanted to protect you … and Seline, who has come and faced you knowing the deeds of the past and still she stands defenseless. I cannot defeat you. And, I think I will not fight you, either. I still have trouble thinking that I might hurt you, Sabel. Is that not amusing?" replies the poodle softly, gently, if frightened.

Sabel takes a hesitant step back. "You're nothing! You can't stop me! I am the last of House Sanguine! I shall have my vengeance! It is only just that I strike down my murderer after all these years! Would destiny accept anything less?" Her voice quivers. "Would it?!"

Von Shanar trembles and flinches at Sabel's words, but as Elise speaks, and death does not come, she relaxes marginally. "If it's vengeance you want, Sabel," she says, "what are you waiting for?" She opens her eyes to look at the collie. "Is it vengeance you want, Sabel?" she asks softly.

Sabel barks, "At least bring up your sword! Have you some sort of … martyr complex? What is this? If you're intent on dying, then let it be in a fair fight … one in which I emerge victorious, as destiny demands!"

The poodle frowns, and at last the blade in her hand clatters to the floor. "If I may speak, I … am tired of fighting. Everything seems to be a fight. I … am like you. I am one of the last of my house. I took up the sword to uphold my family. I never wanted to, though. And … here I may die. Die. Even now we have something in common." The poodle steps forward, next to Seline and then in front of her. She is without her sword, and she isn't putting up a defense. "Must this murder continue? Would you murder us? You cannot always have felt this way … "

Holding out her palms to Sabel, von Shanar says, "I won't repeat the evil my relative did in fighting you, Sanguine. It was wrong then, and it would be wrong now. And I think you know, that, too."

"And … and what alternative do you suggest?" Sabel barks. "How shall my house be avenged? HOW?!"

"If I may?" asks Elise of Seline.

The husky drops to her knees in the face of Sabel's words. She nods to Elise, wearily.

The poodle returns the nod. Quietly she steps forward and looks into Sabel's eyes, biting her lip. "Oh Sabel … ," she starts, " … I considered this carefully, and I would like to see Sanguine Hall donated to the Temple as war museum. A place where students and visitors a like can come to learn the history of the families fallen in the service of Rephidim. It will be donated in the Sanguine family name, and there your story too will be told. Also, the families responsible will come forward and your name will no longer be hidden. I will see that what happened becomes known, and that your name is placed back where it should be. Your name, and your line, will not be forgotten."

Sabel looks at Seline dubiously. "Really? And what will it be said of the accident that ended the line of Sanguine?"

Elise turns her head towards Seline now. "That, I cannot handle alone. However I believe Cadet von Shanar will see that her family takes the responsibility for what they have done. The truth will be known."

Von Shanar curls in on herself, wrapping her hands over her shoulders, head drooping at the mention of the accident and the families coming forward. "The truth will be told," she whispers, her voice harsh with emotion.

The poodle takes a deep breath and exhales, closing her eyes. "Although I, nor my family had no place in the past where this began … I cannot help but feel responsible for it now. I … am the holder of the sword. Perhaps it means nothing to the others now, but it still means duty to you, Sabel. I promised."

The sword slips from Sabel's grip, and clatters on the floor. She looks less substantial now, the glistening water of the fountain faintly visible through her fading form. "By your word … " Her voice sounds less distinct, more like a wind blowing through an ajar window, or a faintly remembered sound from a waking dream. She steps back again. "So be it," she sighs airily.

Eyes open and Cadet de Bellefeuille looks to the fading form of Sabel. She lifts a hand to her face to cover it slightly, hiding her pain and her tears. Her other hand moves as if to reach for Sabel, and then falls, letting her go. "Good bye, Sabel."

A violent shudder shakes von Shanar's kneeling form, lasting well after Sabel has faded away. Eventually, she opens eyes she does not recall closing, and stares vacantly at the space where the spirit had been.

There is a sharp inhale from the poodle as she reels from the moment. She takes a few steps off to the side, staring where Sabel had been, before she turns to walk over and sit down heavily upon the stairs. Here she drops her head fully into her hands and is quiet.

After resting her head against one hand for a moment, von Shanar drags herself to her feet. As she turns and moves to retrieve her sword, she stumbles over the fallen body of Jiraud. For a moment, a slight smile crosses her face, then fades. She steps past him and recovers her weapon. With another heavy sigh, she sheathes it and strides to the door.

She tries to open the door only to discover that it is still barred. A sudden surge of anger shows and she pounds on it with the pommel of her sword. "Enough games already! It's over!"

"Seline, wait." At the steps the poodle rises to her feet and reaches to wipe the tears from her eyes. She sighs softly as she studies the ground in front of her.

The thrown crystal pendant still lies on the floor where Elise cast it earlier.

Seline leans forward to rest against the door frame, impatient but emotionally exhausted, her sword still raised, pommel resting against the door.

From the steps the poodle wanders off towards the items she had dropped. The pendant, the long cursed sword, and Jiraud. She pauses next to his fallen body and studies it carefully. After a moment, a large smirk crosses her face and she spins around to face Seline. "What do you say we head to town? I could use a bit of fun."

Seline turns from the door frame to look at Elise, frowning at the poodle's words. "No," she says coolly. "It is my duty to return to my family and break the news to them. The door, if you would?"

"Of course, I suppose you must now. Forgive my manners, but I am tired of saving everyone, and now plan to save myself," replies Elise, smiling. She then turns towards the door. "Tremaine! All is well now, would you please open the door?"

There's a rattling noise … and then the door creaks a bit. "Yes, Lady Bellefeuille," comes a voice tinted with a faint Imperial hiss. "My pardon for any inconvenience, Lady von Shanar. I hope you will understand."

Absently, Seline sheathes her sword, as if she only just remembered it was drawn. "Ah, saving everyone," she murmurs. "I suppose I must thank you, too, for perhaps Sabel would have killed me had you not counseled her otherwise." Her eyes are cold and dark as she stares out the now-opened doors. "But all things considered, I would rather have died to protect my family's honor than force us to such humiliation as this. Good day, de Bellefeuille." She strides out the doors, brushing past Tremaine with barely a nod of acknowledgment.

A tired smile is flashed at the snake. "Oh, I certainly did not mind. And, I think, after I wake up the most upsetting Jiraud, I will be headed off to town. Perhaps dancing." She turns and walks off towards Jiraud and places a boot on him. But before she does more, she glances after Seline. "Sometimes it is harder to live with responsibility than die, and be free of it. You will, with effort, mend your name. And when you do, you can be truly proud that we have solved what our ancestors would not. First Ones be praised."