Part II- Survival

-Nyadenalan-

I relaxed my muscles, ceasing all attempts at a struggle. Struggling would do nothing for me, especially if Matron Adrys was already out for my blood.

I leaned my head back against what felt like a stone table that my body was stretched out on, spread-eagle. At least my neck hadn't been chained. That would have been entirely too much to bear.

I groaned quietly. How had I gotten myself into this mess?

That spell was the worst idea I have ever had, I thought miserably. It was, of course, my own fault, as usual. With a rueful sigh, I remembered my many mistakes over the years. I had been top graduate at Sorcere, that much was true, but that in no way meant I was brilliant under stress.

As I just demonstrated, I thought sarcastically. My mental berating, however, was cut short by the sound of a door opening. A warm, glowing body entered the room, walking up to my table and looking down at me.

"Ah, wonderful," said the cruel voice of my mother. "I see the prisoner is awake."

-Nysta-

I tugged with all my might, but the blue, phosphorescent cap stayed firmly entrenched in the rock.

Frustrated, I growled at the mushrooms I was supposed to be harvesting. I had pulled on almost every single one so far, and none of them had yielded even slightly to my insistent tugging.

"Forget this," I muttered. I drew my razor-sharp saber, took a ready stance, and then slashed down at the bed of ten blue mushrooms.

Ten blue caps fell neatly from their stalks. I grinned, collected the caps in my pouch, and started back to camp, being careful to make no unnecessary noise.

As I reentered camp from the small tunnel by way of which I had left, I caught sight of a dead animal lying on the ground.

Apparently, Drizzt has more luck with hunting than I do, I thought, a sheepish smile coming to my face as I recalled the one time Drizzt had tried to teach me to hunt. That little excursion had not ended well, needless to say. In fact, I thought I remembered Drizzt's precise comment to be, "That was a very…unique method, Nysta. I've never seen anyone fly so far across a cavern before," as he tried to hide a smile.

"Bet I'm the first person ever to investigate how hard a rothe kicks," I'd replied, trying to smile but only managing a grimace, rubbing the sore spot on the small of my back. I put my hand on the same spot now, remembering the horrible ache that had persisted for three days. I tossed my pouch onto the ground beside the dead animal and sat down, resting my arms across my knees and leaning my head on my arms. I peered out into the darkness, my infravision registering all of the shifts in temperature in the stone around me. I was getting used to Underdark sight, and was getting quite adept at picking out the color patterns that I wanted to focus on.

"Nysta," I heard a voice say to my left. I turned my head slightly, enough to see Drizzt emerging from a side tunnel, sliding his scimitars back into their sheaths. He walked up to me, gazing down at me with a puzzled expression.

"Yes?" I asked, unsure of what he wanted.

"What are you doing?" he asked me, regarding me intently with his glowing lavender orbs.

"Uh…resting?" I replied, still not sure where this was going.

"You are idle," he reprimanded me. "We need every alert pair of eyes to watch the camp if there are indeed enemy drow out searching for us."

I glared up at him. "Well excuse me for being a bit tired," I said sarcastically, "but I assumed that you were the one who was staying alert. My only job, as you so politely decided for me, was to pull up mushrooms. I apologize for being so useless," I finished, shooting him one last loaded look before putting my head back down on my arms.

The next thing I knew, I was suspended in the air by the front of my robes, Drizzt's hand holding firmly to my collar. His eyes shone with intense fire, and his face, though calm, showed a measure of fury I had never witnessed before.

Oh man, I thought to myself as I was lifted, my collar beginning to constrict my breath. I really went over the line there.

"Listen to me," Drizzt said, his voice a low growl. "You were the one who asked permission to travel with me, and I granted it. But," he continued, holding my collar even tighter, "I can take it away just as easily. So unless you want to find yourself stranded alone in the wilds, cold and hungry, without a friend or sign of life in sight, you will do your part!"

By this time, I was gasping and choking, his iron grip cutting off the flow of air into my lungs. I stared at him wildly, begging him mentally to let go.

"Do you understand?" he growled.

I tried to nod, but his grip was too strong, and my oxygen levels too low, to manage even that movement.

"Do you understand?" he roared.

Black spots swam in my field of vision. I opened my mouth to answer, but what emerged was a choking, gurgling noise.

Instantly, the grip loosened, and I was dropped suddenly to the ground, my airway open, gasping and heaving for oxygen. As my lungs filled and refilled greedily, I looked up at my companion. He stood over me, staring, his violet eyes filling with sparkling tears.

"Drizzt," I gasped weakly, when I had enough breath to manage it.

"I…I…," he stuttered, one tear gliding down his cheek.

"I'm…sorry," I wheezed.

His eyes opened wide at that. "You're sorry?" he gasped. "I almost killed you, and you're apologizing…for what? For snapping at me?" He looked at me, and the expression on his face horrified me, for I read in it such a complete contempt for himself that it threatened to eat him alive.

"What have I done?" he murmured.

"Drizzt," I began in protest, my voice now returning, but he had turned away from me and was sprinting into the tunnels. I watched him go, noting a strange pattern of small red heat signatures behind him, like a trail following him into the wilds. It took me a while to figure out what they were, and then my heart filled with sadness.

They were tears.

-Drizzt-

I sat down with my back against a rock, my heart thumping from my run, my chest heaving and constricting with sobs and breathlessness.

I had lost myself. What was worse, I had lost myself and almost killed my friend.

"What am I?" I questioned the dark cavern bitterly. "Monster? Hunter? Murderer?"

The cavern did not respond.

I sat there for a very long time, contemplating what I should do. I had Guenhwyvar in my pocket, but the last thing I wanted was for my dear feline companion to judge me as she had after I had almost killed Briza.

That's twice now, my subconscious whispered teasingly, a cruel, sibilant hiss in my mind that tormented me at my worst times.

How long before you lose control altogether? How long before someone dies at your blade?
I tried to shut the hunter's voice out, concentrating on anything besides him in my mind, but it was no use.

Who will you kill? Belwar? Nysta? Who is next to die when the hunter Do'Urden is on the warpath?

"Be silent!" I screamed aloud, clutching my ears.

The voice went away, leaving me with only the darkness and my wretchedness once again.

Sorry that this chapter took so long to get out, and that it's a bit of a fluffy mess. I'm experimenting with psycho-development in my characters, so please feel free to add any advice that you think would improve them.