Cara's Turn: The Seeker
"Everyone knows the Seeker is dead. Or is he?
"Lord Rahl is ever-vigilant. But the Seeker has access to powerful magic beyond our understanding. Even now, he schemes against us. He wants to destroy D'Hara.
"There are those who scoff at the threat the Seeker represents, believing him a myth to frighten children," here, Cara glared significantly at Denna. The other blonde rolled her eyes.
"Someday soon, the Seeker will come," Cara asserted, pitching her voice low, so that Garen and Triana unconsciously leaned closer.
"His target? Lord Rahl. With the strength and power of a hundred men—or ten Mord'Sith—the Seeker stalks his prey. Soldiers are useless against him. Slowly, inexorably, he burns a bloody swath through D'Hara.
"Two brave Mord'Sith plot to kill him. But the Seeker is not alone, and his Confessor steals their souls. Another Mord'Sith captures the Seeker and begins his training. But his powers are more than a match for her.
"When the Mord'Sith meet their Master in the Underworld, they are deeply shamed. All their efforts are as nothing to the Seeker. Lord Rahl is dead. They failed—
"And now the world is chaos. The Seeker will see all the Sisters of the Agiel dead at his feet. Their failure—our failure—is complete."
And Cara held them with her eyes—and then leaned back on the pillows. She wanted to scratch her nose and undo her braid (it was giving her a headache), but it would have spoiled the moment. Mord'Sith were used to suffering.
"I could train the Seeker," Denna boasted. But Cara saw the uncertainty in her eyes, and rejoiced that she had put it there.
"Impossible," Triana insisted. "We would die before we let the Seeker win."
Cara smiled sharply. "Exactly."
"The Seeker couldn't beat Lord Rahl," said Garen.
Cara had to admit that was the flaw in her imagined scenario. The idea of Lord Rahl's defeat was ludicrous—inconceivable. Mord'Sith knew the story of the Creator and the Keeper, but for many, Lord Rahl was their only god.
"The Seeker," Dahlia said, as though she could make it true by force of conviction alone, "is dead."
Cara raised her eyebrows, but Dahlia's adorable trembling lip made her relent. "Yes," she said, "but if…"
Garen laughed in relief, and rose. "When shall we five meet again—in thunder, lightning, or in rain?" she asked, making a reference to the terrible weather the Palace had been getting lately.
Cara shrugged, and said mischievously, "In the Underworld?"
Triana scowled, and leapt to her feet. "Who's up for some early morning sparring?"
Yes—Cara was reminded. They had stayed up all night talking and teasing and fighting. And finally story-telling. Her roommates were a loud bunch.
Lazily, Denna rose. "Think you can take me?"
Cara watched them go, and Dahlia's lips brushed her cheek. "I can think of a better way to spend the morning…" Dahlia whispered.
"Good plan…" And may the Seeker rot in the Underworld. And his Confessor, too.