A figure robed and hooded in green huddled in front of the window, leaning into the deep window-well. It didn't move as the door to the rather small bedroom opened and a matronly-looking weasel fur stepped in. "Meal service!" she announced briskly. One hand- a right one- slowly came out and pointed toward a table. The nurse compressed her lips in irritation, but set the tray down in the indicated spot. Then she announced, with that certain finality known only to mothers and others whose job it is to care for those who don't know enough to take care of themselves, "if you don't eat, you're going to starve to death."

"I eat" was the low-voiced, emotionless response.

"Hmmf!" the nurse sniffed. "Yes, you eat- like you were being forced to at knife-point!"

"I am" came the same dead reply.

"No, you're not, but it might not be a bad idea. ANYthing to make you decide to sit up and live again. You're never going to finish healing if you don't take an interest in anything!"

After a few seconds, a single monosyllabic response dropped from the lips of the figure in green: "oh."

There was nothing to say to that. The nurse sighed her frustration and did not quite slam the door when she left.

After a minute or two, the figure slowly turned, revealing a young vixen with an expression to almost match the deadness of her voice- although tear tracks and the look of deep sadness showed there had been more than the currently deceptive calm. At first glance, one could have been forgiven thinking she had cried her eyes red, but looking again would show you that a near blood-red was simply the normal color of her irises. She also had a golden bridge at the base of her muzzle, with some ornamentation to it, and a small jewel in each side. As she stood stiffly and began to walk over to her meal, her left hand was immediately noticeable for being a metallic glovelike affair that extended partway up the forearm. The expert observer would have noticed something else-- not only did it droop limply (which would be expected), but the vixen handled her arm like there was only a dead weight that she did not want to see there.

Lilith didn't want to see The Thing, as she referred to it mentally. It was a token of her failure. The one thing she had promised to herself that would never happen again had happened- even worse than before. As she ate with her one good hand, a few tears began to leak again as she remembered that night. Why, she thought, didn't the Chabat-bait swamp cats go ahead and kill her, rather than sweeping through the other side of the compound and leaving her behind? She again had the mental image of a hollow statue, with the foundation washed out from underneath it, and no purpose for existence. That described her as accurately as anything she could conceive of. She had been given the job- admittedly, along with five other magicians- to protect the estate of a wealthy landowner and prominent political figure. He feared attack from "savages" in the southern jungles. He had been right. Lilith sighed. They hadn't come in from her quarter, true, but the one next to hers- and it had been her responbility, too, in a way, since the watcher there hadn't been Gifted. But by the time she had noticed the deadness to the life cords in that quarter, it had been too late to do anything but shout a warning- the invaders were already over the wall.

She had made only a small amount of difference. There were so many, but even that was no match for a good magician- and she was an Adept- a young one, but still competent. About a dozen feline warriors had fallen at her hands within a matter of seconds, but then her fireballs were batted aside and she saw the magician that had been backing them up. It made sense, she realized as she had sent one of her hottest possible fireballs to his chest. He was the one who had managed to not only silently kill the guard there but had cast the spell which had prevented her from noticing anything wrong for what must have been a good minute. It was then that her world had exploded in her face- literally. She had sent the fireball from her left hand, and like everything a person left behind or did, it was connected to its maker by a cord. That cord had served as a return path for a fireball bigger and hotter than anything she'd felt before at close range- and it all fell on that one hand. She remembered seeing it outlined in black against the huge yellow fireball as she threw it in front of her face- fortunately at arm's length.

Lilith returned to the present sobbing with pain, both emotional and physical. The hand was hurting again, as bad or worse than it ever had, and it wasn't even there anymore. She went to her bed and laid down, holding out the stub of her left arm over the edge of the bed and crying into her left shoulder as she curled in a fetal position.

Some time later, she was still curled up on the bed when the door opened and a cheery voice said, "Hey, there, shiftmate, how's the day?" A male fox had entered, and the hood of his purple Adept robe was pulled back to reveal a fiery red fur coat. Magus had earned the nickname of "firefox" among his colleagues some years ago, and those who had been lucky enough to not see him in combat assumed that it meant his fur. They were wrong. Sometimes, quite literally dead wrong, such as the feline magician who had raided the compound- a second after its return stroke, it had been transfixed by a fire that was no fire. Magus had been told that what he was using was called "plasma", but he never held to technical details. All he knew was that he'd learned the ability to generate a beam of hot white fire about two inches wide that burned through anything it touched faster than you could blink.

Lilith, of course, was not in the mood for visitors at all, much less cheery ones. "Oh, go away, " she muttered. "Let me suffer in peace, rather than having you come in here gloating over my failure." Summoning her strength, she sat up on her right elbow and fixed him with a rather wild stare "and just in case you expect any cringing pleas of thanks, forget it- I would have gotten that cat myself if you hadn't interfered!"

Magus blinked, and almost started to back out the door. "Uhh... sure, sure, whatever you say," he blurted. "I just thought I'd see how things were going, uhh, it's...."

Lilith didn't let him finish the sentence he'd stuck on. "Things are rotten, I might as well be dead, and I am dead inside!"

"Oh come on, you're still one of the best magicians around here, I mean..."

"No, I'm not!" With that, she yanked the hood of her robe back with her good hand.

Magus frowned for a second, puzzled, then his eyes widened. "Hey! Where did all your rings go? I mean, you've only got that one you said was just a ring, all the other stuff..."

"Is in the drawer where the orderlies put it, and where it's staying."

"But that's ridiculous! You need your rings to do anything with magic that's worth mentioning, like I need my amulet and bracelets, we all do, you can't even sense life cords most of the time without...."

"Oh stop babbling, " she said wearily. "I know very well what I can and can't do, and it's the can't that I am now. I can't do anything magic with half of my hands gone, and I wouldn't be any good even if I had both again."

Magus had stopped being flustered and was beginning to get irritated. "Quit being silly, lots of dark-side magicians do with one metal hand, some even with two, you know that. So they can't use objects of power there, big deal, they still work like normal hands, and they can still use magic with them." By now, Lilith had turned her back on him, and was laying back down on the bed, but he was just starting to get warmed up. "And if you're so concerned about failure, all I can say is that just shows how inexperienced you actually are! You'd think that metal bridge on your nose would remind you that everyone is mortal, this can't be your first failure, no matter what you pretend. Everyone who's had some sort of assignment fails sooner or later. I've been in the bodyguard business for 15 years and this isn't my first failure- it's my third! One time they slipped sleepy potion into the food, and the first time the little ditz vixen that I was assigned to protect decided to sneak off without me knowing it- and she got herself killed!" His voice had risen to almost a shout, but now it shifted down to scorn. "Here you are, still young, unlike some I could name, still capable, no matter what you think, and with a nice metal hand that some magicians would give their eyeteeth for!" Ignoring her muttered oath about "metalheads", he continued. "You're starting to get that seasoned look that dark-side magicians like, just now starting to get good, and you lay there and whine and moan about not being perfect! Well fine, if that's what you want to do, you feel free to cry, but don't expect me or anyone else with any sense to commiserate with you!"

This time, the door was slammed. And this time, Lilith wasn't very slow as she jumped out of bed and planted herself in front of the mirror on the other side of the room. With her hands on the wall on either side, she let her angry tears flow, and as her face contorted with the anger she began to mutter to herself. "So it's seasoned we want to look like now, is it? So being turned into a freak is supposed to be desirable. So getting blown to bits is being good. Well just goes to show how much you know!" She pounded the heel of her good hand against the thick wall and her voice rose as she cried "I'm a freak, I'm a failure, and no one even knows why I'm alive!"

Nothing improved over the next couple of days. In fact, the healer who inspected her seemed somehow less than surprised as he announced "your body is rejecting the implant, I'm afraid this fever is from the infection." The single, seemingly listless, response was, "so when does it come off?" The firm retort was "never, if I have my way! You're not helping any, though, with this indifference!"

He left before Lilith summoned the energy to tell him that indifference was the last word she would have used to describe her attitude towards The Thing. He was right about the fever, though. The sun was making her feel just too warm, and it wasn't being in the south that was the reason for it. She'd cried herself dry, and she didn't really have any energy left for any more shouting spells- not that she'd had any. Well, not too many.

This time when the door opened and Magus entered, he was noticeably less cheery. "So, has our little patient come to her senses and realized her good fortune yet?"

"Oh yes, good fortune indeed. I've got an infection, and a fever, and I'll probably lose the hand they put on. What could be better?"

The sarcasm was ignored, but he stiffened, then looking at her with that magician look in his eyes, he finally muttered a low exclamation. "So you've actually done it. I didn't think you would- not even sure you could. But I guess anyone as determined as you would find a way somehow." He met her blank look with one of an inward sadness and quiet horror of his own, and he continued quietly. "You've managed not only to reject good advice and good sense, you've managed to make your body reject a perfect implant. You've rejected everything because it failed to live up to your ideals. Just tell me," he spoke in a more conversational tone, "just what is it about life that makes you think it's not worth the trouble?"

This time, he simply gazed at her quietly and waited for an answer. When it came, Lilith's earlier defiance and anger were gone, replaced only by weariness and a bitterness that went beyond despair. "You think failure is just not having things go your way. So you lose a game or two, your life goes on, it doesn't really matter to you that something didn't go right because it doesn't change what you are. There's always another enemy to burn, always someone else to protect, and if one doesn't work out right, you just substitute another and think nothing of it. Did you honestly think I did this sort of thing for the fun of it? I was going to be a healer, not a furry death machine. I even became a light-side apprentice to a healing mistress, and then had to watch her be beaten and mistreated until when I managed to get us out, she was half dead when we got to help, and then I had to see everything I loved go down the tubes along with the bridge on my nose. You think I got off easy when they did that to her? If it were only so simple. I discovered hate that day, and a desire to revenge the loss of my innocence. I guess I never really lost it. I somehow thought things would work out the way I wanted them to if I just tried hard enough. Funny. First it was as a light side apprentice that I failed, and now it's as a dark side adept- and I can't even tell the difference. It's the same old feeling. You lose a game. I lose lives. First that of my mistress and all the hope and brightness she had, and now my own out of the ashes I'd pulled it from when she was gone. I can't be any good at one, and I can't even achieve adequacy at the other."

Magus didn't have any immediate response as she trailed off listlessly. There was silence for a bit, except for the rustling of his robes as he got up and went to stare out the window. A couple of times he almost started to speak, but then stopped. Finally, his voice rough with suppressed emotion, he muttered, "Ok, I admit it. I'm not any good at words, but it still seems like you're giving up too easy. Sure, life can kick you in the teeth, but it doesn't destroy you unless you let it. I saw plenty of furs lose their lives, some in agony, and they never had that sort of despair. And even in the end, when they realized that everything they wanted was going to fail, they didn't have to just give up. They'd even know they were going to die, but they'd still keep going until they couldn't."

More silence. Then Lilith's reply, short and in its own way even more bitter, made itself heard. "They failed on the outside, they didn't have to face up to the fact that everything they thought they were was a lie."

This time, Magus shook his head more firmly. "Life doesn't always play fair, but whether you succeed or not, you're only a lie if you fail to examine your own priorities. It's not a lie to be wrong, it's a lie to know deep down inside that one thing is right, and then not live up to it on the outside." He moved toward the door, and added in a brisker, lighter tone, "well, enough woolgathering, I have my own things to attend to, and, by the way..." he paused in the open door, "no matter what you decide you truly want, I can tell you as one of the best dark-side magicians around that you've got what it takes to be the best of the best."

Lilith's eyes clouded with unshed tears as he closed the door this time, but they came from sadness and a bit of shame rather than anger.

She had fallen asleep, and it was evening as she started to come to. Voices were buzzing in her head... She lived a lie... no, she never knew what she wanted... she's a failure... she doesn't know what failure is... she's all washed up... she has no idea what she's done... she's doomed to die... she wants to die... she doesn't know the meaning of life... she has no inkling of what death is, either... she's going to choke to death on her pride... only if she doesn't want to give it up for thankfulness... there's no way out.... she doesn't even have to go in....

Lilith managed to struggle to an upright position, and the arguing voices faded, but when she opened her eyes things weren't any better. All she could see were life flows and cords- the same things she had been avoiding for days now. She dimly realized that her physcial weakness had opened her sensitivity to things until she had no choice but to see- and be overwhelmed. As she struggled to realize what had been going on in her head, she managed a wry thought.. my last thought before death-- I never really knew what life was... But now that death had been mentioned, her gaze fell to her left hand and she saw not a shimmering web of life threads but a pulsing blackness. She realized the infection was slowly eating things, that what she was seeing was death, and the absence of life in the implant they had put on. Somehow, she had no desire to fight it anymore, and yet it didn't seem right-- fair? No, fair didn't count anymore. Fair was for people that thought things had to go their way. She didn't even have a way now, so how could she decide what was fair. Still... it just didn't seem right, somehow. She found her right hand scrabbling in the drawer by her bedside, and realized she was hunting for her rings. Maybe there was nothing left, but she still didn't have to just sit and watch death happen- did she? She groped and felt. One, two, three.... seven, eight... umm, no need for finger rings... she let the last four, larger rings drop into the drawer, but clutched the first eight rings tightly in her paw. After a minute of laying there, she dimly realized she wasn't getting anywhere. Putting the rings in a pocket of her hospital robe, she again reached to the bedside and managed to get the cup of water that was there. Several small gulps seemed to put her in better shape to think, even if she still felt barely strong enough to sit up, much less go anywhere.

Staring back down at the blackness, she knew that she'd need life power to get rid of it, but she didn't have any- well, just barely enough to keep going. Another gulp of water, and her head cleared enough so that the shimmering faded, and she began to see more or less normally again. Her thoughts, still a little fuzzy, looked out the window and remembered the huge tree not far outside. Carefully picking up the water pot by its handle, she used it's rather slight weight to leverage herself out of bed and onto her feet. Once standing, she wobbled rather uncertainly toward and through the door. Fortunately for her, the way out to the garden wasn't long, and after a few hazy minutes of seemingly endless wandering she found herself relaxing under its evening coolness.

Sitting the pot of water down, she reached a trembling hand into her robe and pulled out a ring. As she snapped it into place on her right ear, the slight tingling signaled the returning of her perceptions. Her breath began to become ragged as she put ring after ring in. The left ear was harder to do, and once or twice she found herself staring blankly into space with a ring in her hand. She finally realized that all of her rings were in, but her head was buzzing again- this time with the return of her life perceptions, along with weakness. Putting her muzzle down into the cool water from the pot, she took several small swallows, then a larger gulp and sat up with a sigh of relief. The spinning in her head had slowed, and her gaze went to the branches of the tree whose trunk she was leaning against.

Here, she realized, was the life power she'd been seeking. Every beginning apprentice learned how to take life power from things, it was the first requirement to being able to actually do anything in the way of magic, most of the time. No life energy? No ability to change anything, then.

Lilith stared back down at the pulsing blackness of her lower left arm and hand, and it focused her being-- now the tree's life was behind her and the death was in front, and that somehow seemed to balance it with her in the middle. She mentally reached back to the life and drew it into herself, slowly, a little at a time, letting it leak down to the blackness. Nothing happened at first, but she hadn't really expected it to. Simply putting life energy somewhere was like delivering raw materials to a worksite and then letting them rot. But these materials never had a chance to rot. As more energy trickled into her system, her gaze sharpened into life magic mode and tendrils of energy began to move purposfully through the blackness. The writhing that occured happened in slow motion, but it was definite and purposeful. Slowly, the blackness was being engulfed, moved aside, overwhelmed, dispersed.... she dimly felt the flow of her blood into the arm, bringing life back to the site where infection was being neutralized, but she mostly saw it as the light shone more brightly until it almost seemed like a star was growing at the base of her left arm.

Then a barrier was reached. The life energy pounded, but it was like it was beating against a wall- a rather flexible wall, yes, but the pressure was building and she knew that it would be painful if she didn't do something pretty quickly. The blackness was gone, but at the end of where her wrist used to be, the bright star ended abruptly, and she knew that the life forces had reached the implant.

The feeling of emptiness was giving way to euphoria. All profound questions about the meaning of failure were long discarded as meaningless, it was all absorbed in the now and the miracle of the life that was flowing through her. She felt herself grinning slightly as she mentally reached out and turned the star into a hand-- a hand of flame corresponding almost exactly to the metal implant that lay limply at the end of her flesh. For a couple of seconds, nothing seemed to happen. The pressure had eased- expanding into the new area had done that- but there was nothing there, still. Then a popping sensation shook her perceptions and she saw the vague life nimbus snap into the shape of her new hand. A strange sensation of hand/not-hand flooded her as she saw life power flow back and forth. Now it was more than a grin, it was a light laugh that escaped her lips as she waved her new hand in theair, beginning to wiggle it, and watching little sparks of light dance out of the fingertips.

As she slumped back against the tree and lost consciousness, one last semi-analytical thought crossed Lilith's mind. You know, for the first time I think something good happened to me when I didn't deserve it.... her last fading impression tagged a name to the warm feeling that thought gave her: gratitude.

She woke up the next morning in her bed, still feeling a giddy sort of happiness. There was a new lightness in her whole being. She almost felt like she floated as she got out of bed and stared towards the mirror on the far wall. As the sight of the thin, ragged vixen standing there with a metal nose and a metal hand came to her eyes, she began to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness that the girl cut. Who would ever take such a person seriously? But then, her thought bubbled, who really needs to anyway? I'm good enough for me, and if someone else laughs at how silly I am, I have to say they are so right-- and I love it!

The next two days were almost a mirror image of the last week or so. The healer in charge was flat-out amazed at what had happened- he wasn't sure exactly how she'd done it, but he had to admit the infection was gone, and that her nerves had regenerated into her new hand almost perfectly. She'd gone from being half dead to being almost perfectly well overnight, and it was just more than her physcial being, although she privately suspected that some of her giddiness was simply the result of getting rid of the fever.

In the first afternoon, she put on all four of her finger rings on her right hand. She'd always used two on each before, but of course that was no longer an option. She found, to her joy, that she'd actually stored some of the tree's energy in her ear rings, and she spent a happy and tiring half hour or so creating her own private light show with magic currents above her bed.

The next day was even better, with the morning spent carefully recharging and re-adjusting to her new body, and the afternoon actually spent in doing some more serious things than a tiny light show. She happily laid plans for leaving the next day. But there was one more little detail to take care of...

Magus walked briskly towards the hospital, his thoughts troubled. Lilith had asked to see him, and when he remembered what it had been like three days ago, he had the sinking sensation that this was going to be the end. He walked up the front lawn, passing a young vixen adept who was stroking a saddled horse busily munching away on the new grass.

As he reached the front door, a tart female voice behind him remarked, "and don't we greet our friends anymore, firefox?"

"Lilith!" he gasped, as he turned and saw the grinning adept who had pulled back the hood on her purple robes. "But I thought, that is, well..." his head swiveled from her to the door of the hospital and back again a couple of times. Finally he blurted, "what in the seven hells of Chabat happened???"

Her laugh seemed almost musical, and she grinned as she replied, "to be honest, I can't say for sure exactly what did happen- if I could tell you, I would. All I can say is I finally gave up pretending I could make up for what I don't like by being something I don't want to be, but even that doesn't really match what I went through."

He smiled a bit wistfully, and there was a slight sadness in his voice as he said, "so what now? Are you still going to be a dark-side adept, or have you found some sort of new thing that means more to you?"

She nearly laughed again as she replied, "no, of course I'm still a dark-side adept, silly. You were right about that much- I'm good at it, and that is what I know. But don't you see, dark-side or light-side doesn't mean a thing about what you actually are or what you think is right, it's just a job description describing what you do!"

Magus shook his head ruefully, "I don't think I quite get that, but whatever you mean, I'm glad to hear I'll soon be seeing you again. I hated to see that much talent go to waste, particularly when I wasn't even sure why you were so intent on dying."

But Lilith shook her head, "sorry, Magus, but I don't think you will be seeing me again for a while- if ever. I'm heading west, out towards the Anjeg desert. I just asked you to come by so I could thank you- both for saving my life with your firebeam and for giving me a couple of good talking-tos when I needed them. I don't know if you were right in what you said, but it at least let me settle out the main fact that I needed-- I know I don't have to do something in order to be something, and that's worth more than any battle bolt that I can think of."

He couldn't help it. He found himself grinning back at her, and somehow feeling embarassed. "Well, umm, I'm really happy you got things worked out. I'll, well, I'll be wishing you good luck, and all, I hope you're happy at doing whatever it is you're going to do, but... oh, nevermind... have fun, Lilith!"

This time, she did laugh. "Oh, I most definitely intend to, and thank you for being who you are when it counted." She raised her right hand toward him, and as she crooked her forefinger, he saw the magic tendrils, and then felt and heard a firm kiss on his left cheek. As he blushed and scrubbed at it, she quickly mounted her horse, then rode off, turning only once to wave goodbye. He raised a paw in salute and farewell while the other still felt his cheek. As he turned to leave, he had to admit that whatever else her shortcomings might be, Lilith certainly knew how to make a dramatic exit when she wanted to.