Afterward, Raidon decided he would turn his hand to the multitude of lesser moral failings still plaguing Toril.

Anusha retraced the path she'd taken a few hours earlier. She didn't need to squeeze between gnarled roots and under reaching limbs; she passed like a ghost without regard to the difficult terrain. Unlike the previous time she passed, her dreaming, physical self was miles closer. She didn't have to concentrate nearly all her attention on holding herself in place.

On the other hand, with her body so close and vulnerable, she was reluctant to move too far from it. Twice she paused in her tracks, listened intently after some imagined noise, then raced back to the lifeboat to check on the sanctity of her travel chest. Both times Lucky had been happy to see her return. Both times were false alarms.

Full night had arrived, and she was no closer to finding Japheth.

"I'm not scared," she said. Was it true, she wondered? Why was she still lingering here, outside the city, when she knew where she had to go?

"I'm not!" she iterated.

Despite her resolve, she still shrieked in surprise when a blaze of cerulean blue dropped from the sky to land somewhere off in the mangroves. She waited for an explosion, as she supposed would accompany the impact of a falling star, but heard nothing.

Should she ignore it? What if the firefall was some sort of warlock signal sent by Japheth? Anusha turned and made directly toward the point of impact.

Instead of a chunk of burnt skystone, she found a man. A half-elf, actually, though one whose human parent obviously hailed from Thesk or elsewhere eastward.

He was dressed in sandals, loose trousers, and an elaborate silk jacket open to the belt. A flaming sword in one hand and a tattoo on the man's chest burned with the same sky blue fire. The flame's color didn't quite suggest spellplague to Anusha. The hue was clearer, somehow purer than what she associated with her nightmares.

The man stood in a burned area but was physically unharmed by what Anusha guessed had been a rough arrival. On the other hand, she judged by his expression that his mind could well be broken; his open mouth and blank eyes implied he might be crazed.

Hunting screams resounded from above. The sentinels had noticed the newcomer's dramatic appearance too.

One of the sentinels dropped from the sky, its wriggling shape limned in green lambency. The kuo-toa rider gripped a long, slender lance of coral aimed right at the man's heart. A black trail roiled in the wake of the creature's dive.

The half-elf s empty eyes darted upward and narrowed. As the flyer stooped upon him, the man brought his sword into a high guard position. Just as it seemed the man would be pierced by the rider's cruel lance, he slipped ever so gracefully sideways. With one hand, he ran his blazing sword through the body of the morkoth as it flashed by. The sword tip tore through the creature as if it were no more than tissue paper. With his free hand, he plucked the kuo-toa rider from the saddle. The limp, blood-spurting corpse of the morkoth piled into a mass of trees on the other side of the clearing.

Anusha watched the man, her mouth wide in amazement. His display outshone anything she had earlier witnessed, even that icy eladrin in Japheth's castle. The half-elf must be a hero of old, she thought. But she didn't recognize him from any of the stories her tutor had taught.

The man held the struggling kuo-toa high by the throat. He said, "Tell me where I can find the abomination Gethshemeth."

The kuo-toa redoubled its efforts to free itself from the newcomer's vice-like grip.

A hint of movement above caught Anusha's attention.

"Watch out!" she yelled. Two morkoth-mounted sentinels flying in side-by-side formation dropped like hawks on a rabbit, intending to bracket him between two arrow-swift lance tips.

The swordwielder released his captive even as he jumped straight up. The half-elf cleared ten feet easily. The sentinels flashed beneath him. One accidentally skewered the kuo-toa rider the man released as he leaped. The other attempted to raise its lance at the last moment, but the man, even as he spun head over heels in the air, shattered the lance with a single strike of his sword.

The sentinels mounted back into the sky. The man landed lightly upon his feet, moving with the grace and economy of action she didn't normally associate with a sword fighter.

He scanned the area near where Anusha had called her warning, failed to see her, then picked up the kuo-toa he'd earlier snatched from its saddle. It was already unmoving from the wound its compatriot had delivered. He said, "Aberrations shall not be suffered." He hewed the unmoving form with the sword, splitting it asunder. Anusha gasped.

The man's head jerked around, his eyes blazing. Did he see her?

Apparently not. He continued to scan the area, then he said, "I must find Gethshemeth. I must…"

The man's expression twisted, as if he struggled to remember something vital.

Then he grunted and tossed the sword away, as if it burned his hand. The sword fell point first into the earth.

The weapon continued to burn, but the half-elf’s tattoo immediately dimmed. Human expression returned to the man's face, and he wiped his suddenly sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

A scream of alarm mounted off to Anusha's left, where the city was located.

"Angul," the man said, apparently addressing the sword, "if you wish to destroy Gethshemeth, you must swear on the Cerulean Sign we both serve never to overpower my mind again."

The sword continued to pulse with sky blue flames. "Can it talk?" Anusha blurted before she could stop herself.

The man looked up, his face remarkably serene. He said, "No, invisible one, at least not to anyone not holding it. Who are you?"

"Anusha," she replied. "I, uh, I am here to destroy Gethshemeth, too. My friends and I. We were separated, but I'm returning to them now."

The man cocked his head, glanced up at the sentinels that circled above. They seemed to be keeping their distance for the moment. Anusha didn't blame them, after seeing the man in action.

"Will you help us?" she asked. "My friends were attacked; that's when I lost them. I don't know what's happened since then. But I know they need help!"

"Who are your friends? Unseen sprites like yourself?"

"No! And I'm no sprite. I'm just, uh, not quite all here, which makes me hard to see. My friends are Japheth-he's learned spells and curses from some creature bound in the Feywild-and Seren-she says she's a wizard and she casts spells too. And Captain Thoster. He's a privateer. Actually, Seren and the captain are not my friends, just Japheth."

The man rubbed his chin, then he asked, "How old are you, Anusha?"

Her cheeks colored. She was glad the man couldn't see her. She had been nearly babbling, she had to admit it. She shot back, "And what is your name, man who falls from the sky?"

He executed a sudden and sharp bow. "Raidon Kane, disciple of Xiang Temple." "You're a monk?"

The man nodded, said, "And a Keeper of the Cerulean Sign, and reluctant wielder of Angul, whose moral sense is suspect despite his zeal for destroying evil. I have suffered much and traveled far to arrive here, all that I might destroy Gethshemeth and the relic he holds."

"Oh! Well, then you will help me?" '

"I detect no taint of aberration about you, so I shall put my trust in you until you prove unworthy of it. I already know I cannot trust this blade."

So saying, he grasped the sword. His expression hardened. His hand shook. But composure settled back into his features. He said, "We don't have time for more elaborate introductions, Anusha. Please lead the way. I can follow your verbal directions."