Vennik pushed himself back into a sitting position against the stone wall.  He let out a tight breath as pain shot through his whole body. The blood pumping out of the inside of his leg told him that he only had a few moments left before he'd black out and slowly join Creation.  In an instant, he weighed his options.

The henchman he'd just thrown off the balcony had probably been a bullhorn announcing his presence.  The time for sneaking about was over.  Vennik had one small Arcanum crystal left to him.  He could heal himself or he could summon aid.  Sending a call for assistance might not be answered as quickly as he needed it.  

He slipped his shaking fingers into a small pocket at his waist.  They brushed against the pebble sized crystal.  With a long exhale Vennik brought in his focus.  He opened his mind to the inner vibration of the crystal as it sought alignment with Creation.  He let it flow, found the harmony.  Then he concentrated on his ripped flesh and imagined it knitting back together.  He pictured the muscles and arteries rejoining.  He conjured new blood to replace what he'd lost.  With a last quick thought, he pictured his leather trousers repaired as well.  And then it happened.

The crystal in his pocket disappeared.

Pain suddenly gone, Vennik scrambled to stand up.  He was tall and very muscular, with thick arms and a broad chest.  His red Rennon skin was darker than most of his kind and his black hair was tied back in a braid that ran halfway down his back.  His cured leather armor was brown and well worn, with strips of steel layered across his chest in a utilitarian pattern.  He scanned around the area and backed up a step.

Vennik stood on a long stone balcony about halfway up the atrium.  Overgrown vines and fernlocks covered more and more surface area as they got closer and closer to the top.  Above the atrium was a huge domed colonnade open to the mountain air.  Slanted sunlight lanced through the columns and lit the space above him in green and gold.  The wind was picking up as the Lantern slid towards the horizon.

He bent down and picked up the short, broad-bladed sword with his blood all over it.  The man he'd just thrown over the balcony wouldn't be needing it anymore.

Across the atrium and one level up he saw movement.  From out of a curtain of flowered vines stepped a tall man with deep purple skin and the light gray clothing of a Voy Diurne noble.  He opened his arms wide and dramatically, calling out, "Vennik!  Dear, Vennik.  I knew that somehow the Great Symmetry would bring us back together, but I didn't expect it here and now."

Damn, thought Vennik with a sad shake of his head.  He's going to start talking again.  "Tremel, I'm going to symmetrically shove my sword through your heart!"

"Vennik, still with the hatred?  Still with your mind on fire?  You come to the fortress of my family with such rage and anger?  Why, it could be said that--"

Vennik ignored the rest of what he said and started walking down the balcony.  Tremel was like any other Voy Diurne and there would be a few paragraphs of rambling chatter before he said something worthwhile.

Doors sat askew in their frames at the other end of the balcony and Vennik hoped he could find a faster way up than the narrow servant's stairs he'd been using.  Reaching the doors, he glanced over his shoulder to see two more figures step out next to the still talking noble.  Both were Rennon just like the one splattered on the stones fifty paces below. 

Vennik pulled one of the doors off it's hinges just as he was thinking that there were four Rennon with Tremel when he entered the castle. 

Beyond the doors was a wide landing with sweeping stairways up and down filled with slanted sunlight, debris from old furniture, and a charging Rennon with upraised sword.  Vennik dodged and parried, their weapons clanging.  He sidestepped out onto the landing while the other man lunged past him and smashed into the doors.  A backhanded slash missed him.

Vennik whirled and crouched slightly, right foot back.  The other Rennon pushed off from the door and leapt back into battle.  Their swords clashed again and Vennik fell back a step.  They were both watching each other with the emotionless calculation of seasoned soldiers; looking for any opening, weighing the odds of each move.  They traded feints, testing each other's reactions.

The other man lunged forward with a thrust aimed at center mass.  Vennik saw the move in the man's eyes before it came.  He parried weakly to let the sword continue forward and grabbed the man's wrist.  Then Vennik fell to one side and used his weight to drag the man forward and send him sailing out over the bannister into the open space between the staircases.  Twisting and rolling, the man involuntarily let go of his sword and clutched onto the bannister to prevent him from falling.

Vennik stood quickly as the man's sword clattered to the dirty stonework at his feet.  With two quick downward motions Vennik chopped all the man's fingers off.  The soldier fell into the darkness below without further noise.  Vennik smiled grimly and nodded to acknowledge the man's professionalism.  

He looked up at the staircase next to him.  Two more henchmen to kill.