A chapter ended in the life of the child when sweetmyst was called away by the Ancients to the land of Druids. Mother and child would be seperated in this realm, although she could go and visit whenever she wished. It wouldn't be the same, and both knew that. The Haven was overtaken by a strange mist, and the child had to bid goodbye to yet another home. Her mother left her in the charge of the White-One, Aphreal and her mate Winged Vengeance in the hopes the child would begin to learn Dragon Ways. Her worg, Black Death, stepped in and the childs training begain in earnest under his tutaledge.

When Black Death felt she was ready, he took her to the city of Clangor. There she met the mad goblin god Maglubiyet where certain truths were revealed. The days of Clangor passed quickly in rounds of harsh body training and sword play. Despite the hellish conditions, the child responded to the surroundings with a strength of her own and soon was running smoothly with the Pack. Clangor was a world of kill or be killed politics, where every activity no matter how beniegn could end up killing you. One day while she and her worg were eating dinner at a local pub, a fight broke out. A mage used a time spell against his enemy, only to have it deflected. The spell struck the child and she found herself catapulted into adulthood!

The body was strange to her and at first she found it very frightening. Black Death decided it was best to let the spell run its course and not risk the mixing of magics. Her fear soon faded as new sensations and feelings came to her awareness. Her adult body felt vibrent, alive in new ways she'd never thought of before. She learned to work with it and soon it was as comfortable as in her former twig like figure. The games of Clangor came, and her Pack ranked quite high as challenges came and went. Her final challenge was to face a being so given over the evils of the Taint of the Wyrm, that its body had become a warped monstrosity. There was no way for her to defeat it as she was, so she faded into her other form.

The creature died a grisly death, and she left the arena triumphant, though puzzeled. When the games were finished, the time spell ran its course and overnight she found herself back into the familiar form of her child self. Pehaps in that time some undefinable line was crossed, even when the spell wore off and she returned to her childhood state she didn't really feel like a child anymore. A new person entered her tight circle of people, yasraena{BD}, a Drowess pleasure slave of the highest order. Her function was to be as a toy for the pack, but Black Death primarily. Her other function was to be a teacher to z'al, to lead her in mind ways of reading and writing and to introduce her to the customs of the Drow, a culture she'd never known except in passing. The Mad-God granted z'al an audience one last time, where more disturbing truths were passed on and something more. He gave her a Wylde Stone, a magical artifact of considerable power. The stone drew from the depths of chaos, opening a wealth of free energy to the one it is attuned to. He informed her that it was possible for her to regain the adult form, when she learned to use the stone. Considering some things that still waited ahead of her, she considered this an advantage. The Pack returned to the Realm, eking out a living at #r-sunhaven(Sunhaven) and continuing their training.

It was then that an event happened that the girl thought impossible, an event she didn't want to face and at the same time, hoped to. J'Arellius returned to the realm. Her once-father's presence sang in the forest like a symphony, every tree whispering his name from one end of the forest to the other. The old wounds still bled, kept open by an imprinted bond she held. She caught a brief glimpse of him in the forest, and the stretch of years in his absence came back to her. She wanted to hate him for it, but when she saw his face again for the first time in years; she knew she couldn't. She waited, determined not to chase after him after all this time, if he wished to see her than he would. She spent long hours by the shore of her den, watching the waves crash into the sand, her thoughts almost always returning to Him. She finally had to admit a truth to herself she'd been trying to avoid since she first heard his name again in the forest, she still loved him. It was bitter, it was sweet. In his own time, he did seek her out, and much passed between them. The bond broken, she could finally begin to heal her wounds. There was still a place for him in her life, if he wished it, but she couldn't bare to have a father again. This realm just doesn't seem to allow that and she couldn't take loosing one all over again.

Finally at peace with a large part of herself, many changes began to take place in the Drow Childs Life. Her training continued at a ferocious rate, her skill with blade and magic growing in leaps and bounds. Her training in her draconian form took shape until she could fly as well and true as any that had wings to bear them aloft. It was a turbulent time for her as well, for she did not feel comfortable in her childish form anymore. It did not seem right at all. So after giving the matter much thought, she used the chaos stone to age herself forward. Not truly an adult, not totally a child. An in between age seemed best for her, comfortable with herself once more life resumed it's normal frantic pace. It was during this time that she was able to learn more of her past. Physically born perhaps only a few hundred years ago, the girl was thrown very far back in time when she was forced through a gate before it's completion. On the surface, with the world ever changing, the mentally fractured child survived and did not age though time passed around her in its natural way. Hung helplessly between the ages she has lived and her mental age, she begins to grasp powers and abilities that boil beneath the commonplace image of a rather small female Drowess. Into this rather odd time came another Drow named Angelus, she found in him a strange harmony, like a brother she had never had before. He was playful and serious, whimsical and sad, and quite unlike any she had ever met before. The circle between herself and Isaisen closed soon after, and she took him as her mate.

Happiness for her waxes and wanes in alarming rates. During a mission for Elspeth in the Underdark she rescued a pale elf name Aranel Anarre, one that she had met previously on the surface. An enemy to all Drow, his life hung in the balance at the whim of a Matron. Against the wishes of Elspeth she saved the elf and returned him to the surface, in doing this Isaisen dissapeared and has not been seen since. Returning Aranel to Linath she left the elven city of Rivendell and returned home. She still waits for Isaisen, every day seeming a little longer and a little harder to bear. If not for the steadfast presence of her mother and her pack, his absence might truly be unbearable. There is much to take her mind from him these days. The war between the Elf kind and the Orcs spilled over into her forest. Her rage knew little bounds and opened a door she had never wished to tread through. In a single instant of anger she took the forest in her will, and laid waste to the orcs and all they had built there. In a terrible moment of blood and fury, the forest crowned a new Forest Lord.

Into her new world came others both strange and stranger still. A Drow whose name is Hatred (Plithut@soi) and a drowess leader named Saevitia Tel'sia. The orc war raged through elven lands and it was on a calm night when she overheard a conversation most startling. The Drow that were sent to fight by the side of the orc were not what they seemed. Hand selected by Saevitia they had one thing in common, a desire to leave the underdark and the ways of the spider goddess Lolth behind. Saevitia made a simple request of the elves, a small piece of land for her people to call their own under the light of sun and moon. It was no surprise to learn that this request was denied to them, for who truly believes the word of a Drow? The Drow girl considered this information for possibly a far shorter time than she should have, but acted never the less. One day the entire contingent of Drow vanished into the dark forest and were seen no more on the elven battle fields. The responsibility of Forest Lord is heavy, and more of it is to come, for the threads being woven through the never ending tree's of the dark forest are as strong as they are hidden.