Dribbles 2 Chapter 1: Celtic Knots:Harry Potter, a x-overs fanfic

Title: Celtic Knots
Category: Books » Harry Potter
Author: Morgan K'Treva
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T
Genre: Family/General
Published: 07-21-14, Updated: 11-05-16
Chapters: 16, Words: 17,119

Chapter 1: All the Pretty Little Horses

Chapter 1: Prologue, All the Pretty Little Horses

December 22, 1979 (Winter Solstice), Unspecified Location near the Sea

I give an excited wicker as I spot Marrow and canter up to him to gently butt his neck, careful of my horn. He gives me a scathing look out of the corner of his eye before he picks up the rest of the dead squirrel and throws his head back to swallow it like a bird.

:What do you want, Aysel?: he asks as I hear Iro and Titan stop behind me.

:Come and play with us!: Iro answers excitedly, her grey legs prancing in place as Titan shyly nods his large head; his long, white mane covering his eyes.

"No Marrow, you should play with us!" Eos and Tirta exclaim as the canter up to us. Tirta's human arms are carefully grasping the centaur's waist, her silver necklace swinging.

:I don't want to play.: Marrow grumbles, tearing the head of his last rat off. I sigh and settle down next to him, used to his moods, but Eos and Tirta look determined.

I can almost understand why since it's been three moon cycles since the Autumn Equinox Meeting, but we'll be here tomorrow as well. Tomorrow we won't be interrupted in the middle to go to another boring meeting, but from the look on their faces they don't care. Tirta opens her mouth to speak, but before she can she's interrupted.

:Children.: a strict voice speaks, and the five of us who had been bugging Marrow turn to look at Titan's father. His eyes soften slightly and he speaks again after a moment. :The meeting will be starting soon, and you can all play after.:

I sigh but reply an affirmative with the rest of the group before I nudge Marrow to finish the rest of his rat. The two of us go off to find our parents. As usual, we find them next to each other and talking: our mothers about the latest children to have wandered into the forest, and our fathers about whom a seen them this year. I grumble slightly to myself as I settle down next to Marrow and watch the rest of the crowd slowly do the same.

I bob my head to Titan and the rest of the Abraxan Winged Horses on the other side of the clearing. They stand out because of their size compared to Iro and the Granians. Then I look around and identify the rest of the horses in the clearing: the chestnut and white Aethonan Winged Horses; the distinctly hawk like Tulpar; the Glashtyn or Cabyll-ushtey with their green and dripping coats, who were glaring at the indifferent Each-uisge; the Each-uisge with their dripping blue pelts, or for those that had taken their human form, their mud and sand filled black hair; the two Chinese winged horses, the Chollima and the Tianma, the first of supposedly celestial origin and the second swift and elegant, cousins to the Granians.

There were also the Gytrach, known as the Grimm, settling down in either their dog or horse forms; the Diomedians with their pile of corpses; the Hippogriffs with their eagle front ends; the three-legged Helhests; the eight-legged Sleipnir; the half-human Centaurs, who were already looking up at the rapidly darkening night sky; the Kelpies in either their glossy black coats or in their human form with their silver necklaces; the utterly wild and untamed Karkadanns; and the half-fish Hippocampi, who were settling in the shallows of the sea. I turn slightly so I can see mine and Marrow's parents, the Unicorns and Thestrals, and sigh, satisfied with being able to identify all of the horses here.

Suddenly, a young centaur hits his staff several times on the stone resting next to him on the sand. "Order!"

Everyone went silent after a few moments, even in mindspeak as far as I can tell, and almost like a wave they turned to the centaur. I observe him, taking in the details as my mom said to, and note the acromantula scars on his shoulder, the jagged claw marks running diagonally down his chest, his braided brown hair, the warm wood of his bow, the braided quiver strap across his chest, and the white feathers of the arrows sticking up over his shoulder.

"Thank you," he says with a smile before speaking the ritual words my parents had taught me. "We sent the message loud and clear, we hold this meeting for all to hear."

"For all to hear, for all to see, we hold this meeting by the sea," I murmur with the rest of the crowd, and the centaur once again smiles as the ritual that I can half remember from last year is complete.

"Now, I open this meeting to any concerns or other comments, and would like to introduce a topic from the centaurs," the centaur says, stepping to the side to allow an older centaur to be seen. His white hair is in a simple ponytail as far as I can tell, though many small wisps stick up and there are feathers, rocks, and stones braided into the silvery hair that hangs over his shoulder as he gently sways forward. He is wrinkled and there are scars all over his skin. There is neither bow nor quiver for him, only a single arrow that he is rolling back and fourth in his hands.

"It is the stars," the elder centaur says as the crowd begins murmuring, breaking the quiet. "So we have seen, and so I shall tell you."

"So we are told, calmly we will reply," murmurs the crowd around us.

"Mars has dimmed!" the elder centaur says, giving a quicksilver smile as he throws his head back. "So he dims, so he dims! And now, our Leo is coming to Earth!"

:Mars? Do you think he means the star of the god and harbinger of war?: I ask quietly and he sends me a shake of his mane, our equivalent of a shrug.

:I think so.: Marrow adds. He shudders then and moves his skeletal body closer. :I'm cold, Aysel. Keep me warm?:

But the elder isn't done yet, and after shaking back his hair he holds up both hands with the arrow in his right hand to quiet the crowd.

"Our Leo is coming to Earth," he says, eyes serious. "But even as Mars has dimmed, he will grow brighter and brighter after only a year of dimness. Following Libra, yet standing alone, our Leo has come to Earth."

There is more muttering and the crowd parts as the elder gently walks back to the centaurs, but the young centaur bangs his staff once again. "Does any other group wish to present a topic?"

There's muttering for a moment before a Hippocampi sent out a sound that was half-nicker, and half-dolphin chatter as it clumsily moves to take a place in front. My eyes slip shut as the stars come out and the last thing I remember before everything fades away is resting my neck on Marrow's is the sound of mindspeak and voices against the sea's wind and water.

I don't own Harry Potter, The Heralds of Valdemar, nor some of the other concepts I put into 'Knotsverse.

As promised! Here it is, the first chapter of my (rewritten) story. For those who have stuck with me after I took it down, I thank you, and warn you that this will be different.

Also, I will be posting information on a website I share with my friend, the lovely Mountain Sky, under 'Knotsverse, which will be under HP. The link to her main page is in my profile. I might also post my draft eventually! I hope you all like this!

-Morgan Stares K'Treva

Chapter 2: Birth, Abandonment

Out of time, Out of space

Yfandes gently rests a hand on my shoulder as I bury my face into Stef's neck, again, taking a deep breath before I step back and give him a watery smile.

"See you when I see you?" I ask, setting my forehead against his with a shuttering breath.

"See you when I see you," he replies firmly leaning forward to give me a light kiss, barely brushing lips, before he pulls back.

"Come on," Yfandes says while gently pulling me to the room and pushing my down shoulders to make me sit in the chair. "You know what happens now, right?"

"Yes," I say, wiping my eyes.

"Good," says a harried looking reaper sitting across from Yfandes and I, a hand running through his hair as he straightens his suit. "Because I'm sick of dealing with newbies and kids who have been stuck in Haven so long they forgot what it was."

He pauses and gives the two of us an approving once over. "I always love getting you Velgarth Folks as well as those Hindus and Buddhists. Almost everyone else only wants their "Eternal Rest" or some other shtick."

He continues grumbling as he hits a button, making the lights dim slightly, and a holographic display appear above the faded blue surface of his desk. I watch as he swipes sideways and types, his eyes focused as he accesses my files, humming slightly.

"Alright," the reaper mutters, pushing his glasses up his nose and making them reflect the light of the holographic display. He taps one more thing before smiling and glancing back up. "So do you want the details? General description? Summary?"

I take a deep breath before I reply, "Just when Yfandes, Stef, Medren, and I are to be born."

The reaper nods at me before looking down for a second and tapping something. Flicking the holograph to the side he put it onto its' own display and hands it to me. I 'take' the screen from him and scan it.

Torin Andrew Sayer: 21 Aug 1980, 1:00 a.m.

Rowan Teagan Sayer: 21 Aug 1980, 1:00 p.m.

Luna Pandora Lovegood: 13 Feb 1981, 3:47 a.m.

Lela Anastasia Lightnight: 9 Nov 1980, 9:38 p.m.

"Who's who?" I ask the reaper before looking up at him as he patiently waits for me.

"Ah, yes," the reaper says, flicking a block of light up from the holographic light display on his desk to the light I'm holding. "Sorry, forgot about that."

I look back down and smile, reading the names.

Torin Andrew Sayer (Vanyel Ashkevron, Herald): 21 Aug 1980, 1:00 a.m.

Rowan Teagan Sayer (Stefen, the Bard): 21 Aug 1980, 1:00 p.m.

Luna Pandora Lovegood (Yfandes, companion): 13 Feb 1981, 3:47 a.m.

Lela Anastasia Lightnight (Medren, the Bard): 9 Nov 1980, 9:38 p.m.

"You good now?" the reaper asks as I set the hologram onto the table, and I nod as Yfandes puts her hand on my shoulder.

"Let's go then," the reaper says in satisfaction reaching forward and pressing his index and middle finger to my forehead. The last thing I see is Yfandes's hands coming up to cover my eyes.

Out of time, Out of space

I watch sadly as Van wipe his eyes and the door closes behind him before Medren settles his arm around my shoulder and pulls me over to my door.

"You know," I choose to comment as we enter. "I still think it's weird that you were a girl for the two lives before you were Medren."

Medren snorts with laughter and the two of us settle into the chairs provided as he replies, "Nah, you're just jealous Stef! I was quite the looker, I'll have you know."

"Quite the looker, I agree with," I retort. "But, in no way am I jealous. If I'd been a girl, who knows how our lifebond would have worked?"

"Um, so I know you're totally not into girls, Vanyel, but I still think we're lifebonded," Medren mocks me.

"No, you two are not lifebonded. And if I had my way, you two would be recycled," a feminine voice says from behind us.

Medren and I turn to watch the reaper as she stalks in, rolling the over-sized sleeves of her white shirt up with childish hands. The two of us stare, and after another moment of fixing her appearance, putting her pigtails back into order, she looks up at us and snaps in an irritated voice, "What? You're from Valdemar, and you're even those Heralds of theirs. So, you know what you want. You two are wasting my break period."

Medren breaks out laughing again, and the reaper simply rolls her eyes. She abruptly turns and marches around the desk to climb onto something before she starts tapping at the holographic display sitting slightly above the washed out looking blue of her desk. It only takes ten seconds before the reaper is back to tugging at her hair as she asks in a disinterested voice, "So, what do you want to know?"

"Nothing," I reply at the same time as Medren, making the reaper look up and smile at us for the first time since she got here.

"Now that's the spirit!" she grins.

"Alright fire boy," she says pointing at me, "you first."

I obligingly lean forward, and she taps her index and middle finger on my forehead, and then I'm gone.

August 21, 1980, 1:00 a.m., Gilbert Bain Hospital, Scotland

I scream, gasping and coughing, as I hit something and already the warmth is leaving me. I can't feel Stef'Lendel'Ashke and I'm freezing and ohgodohgod it's the ice again growingandcoveringandfreezingandcutting and- and- an- a-

August 21, 1980, 1:00 p.m., Unknown House, London, England

I gasp and throw my head back, just barely holding in a scream as a contraction passes and I collapse against the box behind me, again. Panting before another contraction hits, my grip tightens on the metal bar next to me. When the new contraction passes, I whimper slightly. I can almost imagine him sitting there next to me, holding my hand as he whispers to me things I already know.

I gasp as another contraction hits me and for a moment I feel something slide out of me. I can hear him whispering into my ear, not flinching despite the strong grip I have on his hand, saying, "That's it you can do it, you're almost there, just a little more…" and I sob as the contraction ends. Suddenly I feel so empty, like a vital organ had been forced out, so I force my head up to look forward at the blood and I see the child not moving. I'm just starting to sob, one of my only reminders not even alive, when he takes a breath. My beautiful, beautiful boy takes a breath.

August 21, 1980, 6:00 p.m., Unknown Street, London, England

I walk down the street nervously, clutching my precious bundle to my chest. I blink back tears at I walk towards the church. When I get there, I walk in and sit on an empty pew, the sound of recorded chanting filling the air around me. I carefully set the bundle I had been carrying down next to me, careful to support his head, and for a moment I simply stare at him. Gently smoothing the already dark peach fuzz down onto his head as he sleeps, my hand raises to my throat and I clutch at the dogs tags.

Somewhere, someone coughs and I startle, my hand clutching the dog tags harder for a moment before I snap the small chain off of my necklace. I close the chain and tuck it into my baby's blanket. I take one more look at him, his ears the color of his father's skin and I want to cry. Instead I leave, leave the church behind me, running as soon as I'm out of sight.

By the way, the times and the dates are important, so make sure you pay attention to those.

Chapter 3: A Death in the Family

October 31, 1980, Sayer House, Britain

I don't know who I am, or where I am, or what's happening. The smell, powdery and milky like the dessert, and the feel of rough cloth around me, and that taste of that milky scent on my tongue, and an almost insistent babbling or humming and screaming, again and again, that never makes any sense. I reach for something, anything, because this reminds me too much of that time when I was captured before I-

before I-

a spark reacts, reaching back-

sensations come at me-

a red baby lying there screaming, hand reaching out to touch and feeling it on two levels-

something snaps-

my mouth opens and I watch in fascination as the baby relaxes, going silent-

feeling it, I try to move, try to reach-

all I can do is lay there-

the hands flail as the other, the spark, tries to reach the red baby-

more wailing and darkness tugs me away, loosening me from the spark and pulling me into a warm soft -

November 10, 1980, Sayer House, Britain

I watch Monday float the bubbles and smoke rings above Jereth with a smile as I cradle Torin in my arms. Jereth looks away from the colors and laughs happily as he tries unsteadily to walk to me. Monday quickly puts her wand into her back pocket and kneels down to support him as he reaches for Torin. He giggles again as Torin's eyes open and he moves his head to look in Jereth's vague direction.

"They're doing their twin thing again," Monday laughs as the two go silent, staring at each other.

"Well, they are going to be in the same year at Hogwarts," I reply with a laugh. "Might as well get some practice tricking people."

Monday smiles at me again, and I lean forwards to kiss her. Jereth's giggles make me sit back as he looks at us.

"Ma! Da! 'O'in!" he says proudly, pointing at each person as he names them before looking back down at Torin's pale face and tilting his head. "Me?"

Then he toddled over to the mirror in the corner of the room and pointed proudly at his reflection. "Me! Te-e!"

I smile at his pronunciation of his name as Monday brings him back over, just as they reach the couch, the window in front of me shatters.

I bolt to me feet and run as fast as I can while still supporting Torin properly and set him down in the warded cupboard we had created just in case something like this ever happened and I close the door. I can hear Monday fighting as I run back and summon Jereth into my arms, turning on the spot and sprinting back to the cupboard and setting him in with his little brother. "Stay here and keep the door closed for me, alright?"

I don't wait for Jereth to nod as I close the door and sprint back to the living room.

I throw open the door just in time to scream as the flash of green hits Monday, my beautiful Monday. The Deatheaters turn to face me, their masked faces blank, and I start throwing curses at them, screaming my hateangerfear out. They send another Killing curse at me, but the first thing I did was levitate the glass shards to shield me, and they reflect the curse back to it's owner, leaving me with three more black robed figures to deal with.

I catch a second Deatheater with a Confringo, his last spell shattering a piece of glass that shoots towards me before being caught on my secondary shield and dropping.

The third falls victim to a Knee-Reversing Hex followed by a Horn Tongue Hex and another Confringo.

The last one is hit with a Bedazzling Hex before I throw a transfigured knife at his throat.

The last thing I see is Monday's body limp on the floor after a pop of apparation, worried voices, and a muttered stupify that breaks the last of the shield that's still spinning around me.

November 16, 1980, St. Mungos, Britain

I wake up to a feeling of mental and emotional numbness and disconnection, as weel as a physical warmth from being half buried under arms. I open my eyes and blink once at the ceiling with its' white tile above me before I shift myself up carefully, not dislodging any of the arms covering me. I blink at the four people surrounding me as I work through what I know, and what I can remember.

Kaiden and Aeronwen are supposed to come over if the talisman alerts them, and I can see all of our our children with a glance to the corner, but Monday is nowhere to be seen. Down by my legs are Kaiden's wife, Iris, and her sibling, Aeronwen's husband, Grey. I blink as a memory comes to me; a memory of Monday falling behind a flash of green light, but it too is disconnected from my emotions.

Kaiden shifts on my bed, mumbling like he always used to when he was about to wake up when our parents forced us into sleepovers. He looks up at the wall across from him, blinking groggily before he turns to look at me with a gasp.

"Sol! You're awake!"

His cry wakes the other three people, who wake much quicker and also give cries of delight. There are tear tracks on all of their faces, but beneath that their expressions are full of relief as they converge upon me hugging me and babbling unintelligibly.

"-said there was a chance that you wouldn't wake up-"

"-were so worried!"

"-Torin was making a big fuss-"

"- Jereth's refused to leave your room-"

"-and Jereth is still making a fuss when we try to take Torin away-"

"-and Lela has started fussing if we don't leave her with them-"

"-and as far as we can tell she wanted -"

Kaiden is the first to realize that something's wrong, and he draws back with a frown as the other three continue to hug my unresponsive body.

"Guys," he says softly, and they cut themselves off to look at him. He nods as me, and I stare at them blankly.

"Sol?" Iris asks softly.

"She's gone, isn't she?" I ask, breaking the silence, and the relief melts off of their faces into sadness.

"Yes," Grey says softly, and the word breaks me.

My heart burns, and I almost want to dig it out of my chest, it hurts so much. The emotions that had been walled away crash into me with the strength of a tsunami, and the last of the control I have over my body fades. My throat tightens and I start having trouble breathing.

The voices around me are raised with panic, but I pay no attention to them because she's gone. My wife, the girl I had befriended before I can remember, then fallen in love with as I grew older, is gone. Then suddenly my arms are moved and two weights are placed in them as my head is tilted down so that I can see the pale blonde hair of the children in my arms, hair so much like hers that I want to laugh and cry all at once as I'm reminded of a link to her.

I start to sob as I stare at Jereth, his hands reaching out to touch my face, and his fist tightly wound into Torin's blanket.

Chapter 4: The Aftermath and Funeral

November 19, 1980, Lionsmane Mausoleum, Britain

When I can think again, they tell me that the funeral is today, and hurriedly dress me in a black dress shirt and slacks before sending me off with Kaiden.

I stare blankly at the urn as the ritualistic word are spoken and the shaman places the black marble over the hole and it melts, sealing the hole and engraving itself with my wife's name, life dates, and the words; "We are all stories in the end. Just make it a good one.".

"Sol," Kaiden sighs as he steps up next to me, once the rest of Monday's family and friends gone. I remain silent and stare at the engraved words. "Damn it Sol, you can't live like this!"

I startle at Kaiden's sudden anger, automatically turning to watch him, and he huffs a breath of laughter at that. Before I can turn back to look at the grave, he reaches out and grabs my face, stopping me from turning. "Don't - don't do this, Sol. Please. I know your wife s gone, but what about your children? What happens to them if you keep this up? Do you want them to be orphans?"

I blink, and my breath shutters. Kaiden searches me face, then steps back, letting go of me. I keep watching him. "Well?"

"I - I - Jereth? Torin?"

"They're fine right now," Kaiden replied, watching me like I'm a scared animal about to bolt. "But Torin won't stop crying, and Jareth keeps asking for you. Neither of them have slept much voluntarily."

"Oh," I say. "I should be with them."

"That's right," Kaiden coaxes. "So will you come with me? To see them?"

I turn to look at Monday's grave again, the midday sun behind making the black become a mirror, before I turn back and nod. "Alright."

November 19, 1980, Sayer Farm, Britain

"Da!" Jereth yells as he walk uncertainly towards me, his arms held out. I kneel down to scoop him us and he grabs a hold of my arm as tight as he can. His pale blonde hair makes me want to freeze, but his shaking keeps me focused on him. He starts babbling, and pointing at the room he had come out of with lots of "an' 'O'in"s. I pause to glance at Kaiden as he leans against Iris, and he nods encouragingly, so I walk towards to door that led to chat used to be my room, and carefully open it.

I look around my old room, taking in the bed with its old, but soft and warm green covers, the bookshelf of my books that I'd brought here to read when Dad wanted to spend some time with Uncle Tristan, the walls pained with a moving forest, and the ceiling with its white and blue sky. All that had been changed was the cradle that Jereth is reaching for.

I walk towards it as the crying tapers off, and I find myself gently rocking Jereth as I look down at Torin, who blinks up at me with unfocused eyes. Jereth wakes at Torrin in excitement. Torin makes a little gurgling noise, and Jereth giggles in return, reaching for him. I carefully set him down into the crib and he immediately shifts himself to sort of curl around him. I watch them as Jereth drifts off slowly into sleep, babbling slightly as he does so. Torin's eye close, and he sort of sighs.

The familiar routine makes me want to cry again, and I back away from the sleeping children, and sit on my bed, my arms over my knees as my breath shutter before I can remind myself that I need to move, to go on. I push the covers back and lie down, breathing in the familiar scent of pine needles that always permeates the farm, my eyes closed as I drift off to sleep to the sound of Jereth babbling quietly in his sleep.

December 25, 1980, Sayer Farm, Britain

"Tracy!" Grey exclaims, holding his arms out slightly to invite a hug. Tracy smiles lightly at him as she lets him hug her, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hello, Grey," she greets him when he pulls back. "How have you been?"

"Good," Grey replies warmly, studying Tracy's pale face under her black hair.

"What about you? You don't look like you're feeling so well," Aeronwen asks from beside Grey, placing the hand she wasn't support her baby against Tracy's forehead.

"Don't worry!" Tracy rolls her eyes and bats away Aeronwen's hand. "It's just a little cold."

I watch Kaiden's friends and our generation of family interacting form the corner as I gently rock the cradle next to me.

Kaiden and Iris had insisted that I attend this party despite my disagreements, and so I had been brought out of my room about an hour before guests started arriving for the Christmas Party, and sat in a corner with Jereth and Torin in their cradle. I watch the festivities go by in a daze, talking to anyone who wandered into my corner. Mostly I just watch Aeronwen, my wife's sister (who looks so much like her, with her golden blonde hair and tan skin), and remember my wife. When the festivities are over, and even Grey and Aeronwen are gone, Kaiden comes over to me and gets me back into my bedroom.

I lay there with my eyes open and listen to Iris and Kaiden pick up the mess that came from the party.

". . . he's not getting any better, Kaiden," Iris says softly. "I think he;s actually slipping back now. He's barely managing to look after Jereth with my help, and it's like he doesn't know what to do with Torin."

"I know," Kaiden sighs. "But what should I do? I don't think sending him to St. Mungos or a mental hospital would help."

"I don't know," Iris sighed after a few moments. "Maybe . . . get him a caretaker? One who can babysit as well so that he can see his kids without us being there."

"I'll see what I can do," Kaiden said softly. "I just- I hope he'll get better. It feels wrong, he used to be so vibrantly alive, and now all be does is rock the kids and try to help you with them."

A care taker . . . the though floats on my mind as my eyes close and I listen to the sound of my children breathing, my mind drifting back to the key that my father had shown me once. A being of great power with an even greater mind.

Chapter 5: Summoning, For You

January 1, 1981, Forest Aroud the Sayer Manor, Britain

Tonight is the first time I've been able to sneak off since the idea came to me. I hurry through the woods, throwing glances behind me as I move, my hand clenched tightly around the key. My breathing fogs the air in front of me, but I ignore that as I search for a clear spot in the forest, one where I can see the trees. It won't be long before someone mentions me, and they start to look, but this shouldn't take long.

I throw another glance behind me as I plunge through some bushes, and stumble into a small clearing in the woods. I stop for a moment, panting, before I let go of the key and reach to the chain around my neck, pulling it over my head. I grasp the key once again, shivering slightly in the freezing air now that I'm not longer running, and tilt my head back to I can see the sky, just as my father had described. I can practically hear him as if he's beside me again, my hand reaching up, and I twist, a lock clicking somewhere, and a door opening. I take a few steps back, watching the shimmering energy seem to fly from the sky and gather until there was a door made of starlight in front of me, the key in the door knob. My hand shakes as I reach forward and grasp the knob. I take a deep breath, and open the door.

January 1, 1981, Forbidden Forest, Britain

My head raises almost unwillingly as the stars flare, Marrow lifting his head from my flank. A centaur bursts into the clearing, making Marrow stand and mantle his wings over me, but the jubilant centaur pays him no attention.

"He's here!" the centaur, whom I now recognize as Faldon, cries triumphantly. "Leo has come!"

His hair flies behind him as he turns and leaps into the trees again, and slowly the forest is filled with the sound of different animals making noise.

:He's here,: I state, almost numb in disbelief, remembering the prophecy made two years ago. I remember my confusion, and I remember our parents talking to us after it, and now that I know what the centaurs meant, I can understand their reactions. :He's here Marrow!:

I let out my own cry, and echoing neigh. Right beside me, Marrow lets out his own cry, which is more or a croak, but it doesn't matter.

Leo has come.

January 1, 1981, Foster Home, Britain

The four month old child shivered in his cradle, his dark skin contrasting with the white blankets around him. His foster parents, loving though they were had decided not to keep him. They had decided to spend their last night with him, and were noticeably concerned when he started to cry. In their concern, neither of them saw some specific stars flash, and thus they didn't notice how the flash seemed to reassure the child.

January 1, 1981, Sayer Manor, Britain

Two month old Lela Nightlight, in the crib with Torin and Jereth gripped Torin's thumb tightly for a moment before it happened as tears started falling silently down his face. Jereth, who had his eyes open, let out a horrendous cry that immediately caught the attention of their parents as he tried and failed to wipe Torin's tears away.

January 1, 1981, Forest Around the Sayer Manor, Britain

The door opened, and a man stepped out, yawning and running through his hair.

"Hello. Yes, I'm a-" he abruptly paused in his speech as he realized that the person he was talking to had crumpled at his feet. He crouched down and poked the blonde man slightly, but all that came from the blonde man was a slight groan, and the red haired man who had come from the now rapidly dissipating star light door rocked back to sit criss cross applesauce. "Oh dear. What did I get myself into this time?"

A couple moment later, someone burst into the clearing.

"Sol!" the man cried at the sight of the blond lying still. He slid to his knees beside the blond as he sent sparks up into the sky with a burst of sound. So worried was he as he checked the blond over that he didn't notice the red haired man sitting with the blond's head in his lap. He shot up with a hiss, his wand pointed at the stranger. "Who are you?"

The red haired man merely sent him a look that was half amused, and half annoyed as he raised a finger to his lips, nodding a head towards the blond on his lap. The brown haired man hesitates, but with a look to Sol lying peacefully on the ground, he reluctantly let his legs fold and deposit him on the ground again.

"Who are you?" he asked again, this time his voice a quiet whisper that barely carried on the cold night air.

"You're his brother," said the red haired man, the non sequitur making the brown haired man blink.

"Cousin. Who are you?"

"I'm Leo," said the red haired man, holding up a hand to forestall any protests. He reached up to his neck, grasping something in the darkness, before he tilted his head back so that the moon light revealed a worn leather collar, like that of a dogs, and a key resting on upon his hand. The small golden key is embedded with rubies, and in the moon light, the sign they make is clear. "I'm the Leo, the original. The lion, the fire."

"The demon," the brown haired man added, his eyes fixed on the glyph on the key.

"You do know!" Leo brightened, his amber eyes gleaming, though his voice remains soft. "I had wondered. A Black then?"

"No," the brown haired man said, tearing his eyes away from the key. "A Sayer. My great great grand mother stole your key when she was disowned for marrying."

"Oh? She must have had spirit," Leo remarked, his hands brushing over the blond man's hair. "So what is your name?"

"I'm Kaiden," said the brown haired man.

"Hello then, Kaiden," said Leo, his eyes dancing. Just then, more people burst into the clearing and swept up to the two people sitting in the center. Kaiden was pushed back as people surrounded Sol, someone throwing a hasty examination spell over Sol, the layered results sparking into being, and sighs of relief sounded all around as the person who had cast it announced that Sol was unharmed. He was then floated up, many different spells layering, and slowly, those who had searched for him drifted back, following the procession until all that was left was Kaiden and Leo. Kaiden watched Leo for a moment more before he closed his eyes, the blue disappearing.

"Come on."

January 1, 1981, Sayer Manor, Britain

"Kaiden, do you know who you have brought here?" someone asks, their voice sounding far away.

"I know Grandpa Kurt. He's a demon. But Sol summoned him, and I don't know what he was planning, but he must had had some reason."

That's Kaiden, I think hazily, my focus more on the warmth surrounding me and the slender fingers threading through my hair. He sounds mad.

"I can hear you," someone remarks lazily, their voice coming from my left.

"I know," Kaiden replies from my right. "You are all of a meter and a half away. How ever could we not know?"

"I could tell you why he did it," the voice from my right sighs. "It's part of the summoning, so that we can be prepared if there is a battle happening. He did it for his children. For some reason, he felt that he was not good enough."

"Oh," Kaiden's voice is weak, and I feel him grasp my hand. My thoughts are coming clearer now, and I feel a vague sense of - annoyance? discomfort? indignation? - that the stranger is revealing my secrets. I squeeze Kaiden's hand now, conscious thought coming closer and closer until I burst into it like a swimmer bursting out of water, a gasp escaping my lips as my eyes fly open.

"Hello," the lazy voice says in amusement, a blur of golden eyes and bright red hair and pale skin filling my vision fo a moment before the person withdraws, leaving the white ceiling above me as I draw in another breath now, less of a gasp and more a simple deep breath before someone hovers over me again.

"Sol? I'm sorry," Kaiden says, his eyes the color of a forget me not, and entirely too close. My breath leaves me in a cough as I flail, but succeed in pushing him back.

"Too close," I grumble, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, frowning at the way it feels unfamiliar. After a moment I open my eyes and push myself up. "Was my fault anyways."

"Sol, do you know what you did?" the person next to Kaiden asks, and I frown at my grandfather.

"I know. I called upon a demon, one bound to another dimension, and planned to ask it to take care of my children when I can't," I say. "Where are my children?"

"They're in the room over," Kaiden says. "Do you want me to bring them to you, or -?"

"I'll walk," I say, swinging my feet over the side of the bed. An arm comes up, supporting me when my vision is temporarily covered with black static, and I almost fall back into bed from dizziness. I blink the dots out of my vision, and nod my head slightly to the red haired person, who smiles. He lest me lean upon him as I move slowly towards the room Kaiden had indicated, and Kaiden come silently to my other side to help, and I sent him a smile. My legs are trembling even with the help by the time I reach the chair next to the cradle, and I collapse into it, feeling like I had run a marathon. Kaiden looks concerned, but he and the stranger still lift my children out of the crib. I smile tiredly down on them, with their pale blond hair, and for the first time since she died, I feel content. I close my eyes.

Behind me I can hear someone humming a lullaby, but it fades away fast, and I'm left with warmth, and the feeling of two bodies in my arms.

"You helped him. I saw the way he looked at them. Before he could hardly stand to, but now he wants to. You could go."

"No . . . I would stay. If he allows, I'll stay. There's something odd about the little one. He reminds me of someone I met once."

"A thousand years ago?"

"More. I get the feeling he'll be interesting. He seems to have a habit of turning everything on it's head after all."

July 4, 1984, San Diego, California, U.S.A.

"Leo!" I giggle, running up to the red haired man lying on a towel. Jereth runs beside me, an eye on my steps for me, and a hand on my arm. "Leo!"

"Little brat," Leo greets me, not opening his eyes. Jereth blinks, darkness consuming my vision for a moment, but I ignore it. "What?"

"Why did you stay?" I ask in curiosity, my link with Jereth loosening slightly as I stop watching with his vision and let myself be plunged back into the darkness. "Da just told us, you could have left long ago. Why did you stay?"

There's a rustling sound before Leo speaks. "Honestly kid? For you. You were interesting. I stayed for you."

"Oh," I blink, eyelids moving over sightless eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Leo says, and I feel his hand hover over my hair to warn me before it descends and ruffles my hair.

"Come on," Jereth says, quiet like always as he pushes his sight over the bond once again. "Da's probably waiting for us to badger him again.

The sudden brightness shocks me like always, before I grab Jereth's hand and we're running off along the beach again.

Chapter 6: Greatest Fear, Deepest Desire, Twins and

Chapter 6: Greatest Fear, Deepest Desire, Twins and Almost Twins

August 21, 1984, Sayer House, Britain

Torin

I fidget nervously as I listen to my father's footsteps, and then hear the weight of the mirror settle onto the floor of the family room like it had on Jereth and Da's birthdays. My breath quivers as I remember Da breaking down crying in front of this very mirror, unable to look away until Leo had come forward and forcefully covered his eyes, muttering to himself as he draped a cloth over the mirror, and I remember the way Jereth had frowned in confusion at whatever it was that he saw. Now that I'm old enough it's my turn.

I blink my eyes against the blankness that should have always covered my vision as I reach for Jereth's hand of the couch beside me, and his mind as naturally as I breathe. There's a familiar shock before Jereth blinks as I'm looking at the cloth draped mirror that is the source of my worries.

"This is a mirror of Erisid, Torin," my father explains, just as he had explained the Jereth months ago, just as Sol had explained to him. "What you will see is not real. It may hurt, but if you know yourself, you can control you magic better. Do you still wish to do this?"

"Yes," I say, staring at the cloth covered mirror even as my stomach rebels. Da nods, his pale hair flashing in the sunlight coming in between the curtains briefly catching my attention as he pulls the curtain off the mirror before I am riveted to the mirror, curious despite myself of what I want. I blink, then almost gasp at the image before me. Standing before me are two men, one with hair that is black, but filled with white strands despite is unlined face, with his eyes closed as he sleeps against the other man, whose hair if both curly blond, and wavy red, who is combing his fingers gently through the other man's hair as he leans against a tree. He mouths words, and I find myself copying him, almost humming the tune running through the back of my mind.

"Every year Companions Choose, as they have done before,
The Chosen come with shining hopes to learn the Herald's lore.
And every year the Heralds sigh, and give the same advice-
"All those who would hold Magic's Power must then pay Magic's Price."

The words are almost familiar, as if I've heard and sung them myself thousands of times.

After a moment of just watching the scene, I let go of Jereth's hand and carefully cross the room to draw the cloth back over the mirror.

I understand now why the mirror made my father react that way, because I don't even know what was happening in mine, yet I already want to see it again. I shake myself and go back to sit with Jereth again, holding his hand tightly. Da smiles at me, but Leo just watches me with a blank face, not allowing his emotions to show as my father floats the mirror back into its hiding spot, and pulls out the boggart in a chest that Uncle Kaiden had given us recently. Once again he asks me if I want to do this, and once again, I say that I do.

I grip Jereth's hand and release it before I move forward and place a hand on the trunk. I open the lid and something zaps out to fast for Jereth to track. He turns to look behind him, but what he sees makes my catch my breath. Lying between us an the kitchen is a body lying on a slab of marble. I approach cautiously, absently noting the white uniform he is dressed in, and I feel like I can't breathe even I I try to take deep breaths. I don't know who he is, but something in me echos with screams, and I rub my wrists before I cautiously reach out and touch the boggart.

Then suddenly I recognize him even as my knees collapse and I cry against his chest. His hair - the curls - he's the blond part of the man that the black and whit haired man was sleeping on. Jereth's sight is long gone, but the sight of him lying dead, with his blonde curls spilling over the edge is imprinted behind my eyes and I can't stop crying as I feel gentle hands - Sol from the feel of the callouses - pull me away.

"I don't even know him," I sob into Sol's chest, and I catch a brief image of Sol looking down at my in concern from Jereth. "I don't even know him, but I can't stand to see him dead!"

Sol gently soothes me, and eventually I calm down enough for dinner - hash browns and salad, my favorite, and the dessert of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies after.

I feel distant, as if I'm wrapped in a veil away from the world and unaffected by it. Presents were opened before the ceremony, so once dinner is done, Jereth and I brush out teeth and go to bed.

I cling to Jereth that night in bed, but he says nothing, instead pulling me closer so he can wrap his arms around me comfortably, letting me grip his wrist like I was afraid he was going to disappear between one moment and the next.

August 21, 1984, Sayer House, Britain

Jereth

I stare at the person lying there dead on the marble, because I do recognize him. The images had been drifting in my mind for as long as I could remember, unclear and foggy like dreams, but Torin's worst fear ripped that veil away from one of them, and I find that I can't move. The image superimposes itself over the scene before me,, my brother's small pale form replaced by a teenager's with black hair, but their pose is the same.

I stay silent the rest of the day, and when Torin clings to me, I pull him closer, the words that accompany the painting echoing through my head.

"This is a portrait of Vanyel Ashkevron, known as the Last Herald-Mage with his dead beloved Tylendel Frelennye, painted by one of his friends. It depicts him crying over his beloved before he killed himself."

Chapter 7: Tearing Off the Veil

October 4, 1984, Foster House, Surrey, Britain

I frown as I clutch the dog tags around my neck, the only things I had to remind me of my parents. I take a deep breath and let it go as I contemplate the images that had just drifted across the back of me eye lids. The frantic desperation, overwhelming grief, and ohgodsohgodshecan'tbegonepleasenoohgodsohgods slowly fades as I try to wipe the tears off my face. The foster parent I have now is a war veteran, and the first to keep me for more than a month. Since I can remember there's been a litany of His eyes are so old, it's like he's my grandfather. He's sweet, but there's something about him. If I didn't know better I would have thought that he had been through a war., but when the old man catches me staring into nothing, he only puts a blanket over my shoulders and sits next to me.

I don't know what war he fought in, but he's a Hindu from India, and just the right age to have fought during the Second World War. I catch him staring into space sometimes, and simply drape a blanket over his shoulders like he did for me. Sometimes he asks me what I see, and sometimes I tell him.

These memories - images - I get aren't of the wars exactly, but I remember playing music for hours on end, trying to - to heal someone, to make them feel better. I remember playing at war meetings so many times that when I suggested something, it was taken into consideration. I remember hiding in a small house because I couldn't control my magic, couldn't stop protecting myself so that my only link was someone . . . someone I can't remember, someone I know I knew as well as I knew myself. I remember begging in the streets, and looking up spells. And I remember love. Quick and bright, and so warm that there are times I can't believe I'm still alive because it's not there anymore. One face with one name with one stupidly self sacrificial personality, who did everything he could for me.

My breath shakes as I force myself to let go of my dog tags reading Teagan Davis, and I force my eyes closed. I breathe deeply and let sleep wash over me, hoping for a reprieve from the nightmares of "Another outpost hit! We've lost a hundred men!"

October 5, 1984, Sayer house, Britain

The flashes of oddness have been coming more and more recently, enough for me to piece together some semblance of a story. I love two people I've never met because of them, and I can understand my father's empty gaze when I find him with a thousand yard stare. But most of the time there's fighting. Never ending, always wearing, scars and collapsing because I haven't slept for a week. There's a woman who's a horse most of the time, who's always there supporting me, and there's magic much stronger than anything I've seen. There's a boy, who used to be a woman and a horse, who makes me think of my cousin Lela.

And I can remember channeling so much magic at once, not even burning, simply just being no longer alive I used to much magic. I shied away from magic for weeks after that memory surfaced. I can tell that everyone's worried for me as I cling to them, refusing to let Jareth out of my sight, and I think that Leo knows exactly what's happening, because whenever Dad looks ready to ask me what's happening, Leo takes him aside and talks to him.

Jareth doesn't complain about my clingyness. If anything, he's clung to me just as strong, something dark in his gaze when ever anyone tries to suggest that we should part. I don't know what it was, but tonight's dreams were particularly bad, not sleeping for weeks and using more an more energy to keep awake and aware enough to command, my reserves drained dry, and the nodes around me filled to the brim with magic from the blood that seeped into the soil. Not eating food for nearly as long because there wasn't enough to go around, and I could keep myself going for far longer without than my men, and my one portion means they can go on that much longer.

I'm sitting on Jareth's bed and watching the sunrise when suddenly something almost like a veil that had been clouding my mind without my realizing it is torn away and all I can do is sit there and gasp as the patterns that had lain over the thin veil like a shaky tracing were washed away. Jareth is awake immediately, his hands on my shoulders as he stares in into my eyes, and I can see the blue and tears as I cry.

"Torin?" he asks as I gasp my tears. He searches my eyes for a moment before hesitantly speaking again. "Vanyel?"

A fresh wave of tears burst out and Jereth pulls me close, his eyes closed as he gently rocks me. "It's alright. Don't worry, it's alright."

I can't stop sobbing because I remember dying and almost dying and Stef. Oh gods, 'Lendel - Stef.

October 5, 1984, Foster House, Surrey, Britain

I wake up crying with a name on my lips and Oh gods, Vanyel-ashke. Oh gods.

The old man is asleep in his room as I creep down stairs, tears running down my cheeks and make myself a cup of tea. I know I have school today but I can't stop crying as I remember everything. I can remember being past it all, but right now everything about them hurts like it's just happened, and I can feel loosing Van, and loosing Staven, and loosing Gala, gods.

The old man finds me trembling at the kitchen table staring into nothing with the cold tea in my hand. He doesn't say anything to me, but after he called me in sick, he sat down next to me on the booth seat and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I spend that day and the next just crying and drinking whatever was put into my hands. The tears tapered off, leaving me empty, but determined, and I manage a smile when the old man asks if I would be willing to share my bedroom with another foster kid. I want some with me so I can listen to them breathe, so I can tell myself I'm not alone.

Chapter 8: Moving On

October 7, 1984, Sayer house, Britain

I wake up with a shuttering breath, take another one, and pull myself together. I've spent the last two days in mourning, but I've lost him before, and now that the memories are no longer so fresh in my mind, I can remember that. I take another deep breath and blink, aware of my eyes moving, but unable to see anything.

I sink into myself and dance carefully around the walls of my mind. I mend the tears and breaks I can see coming, and ease the stress on them from the onslaught of feelings. They aren't as strong as they should be, and I build them again, adding layer and layer so that I no longer catch any thought that's particularly strong.

I pull myself together piece by piece like I had to before, ground and center. I bring shields up around all of my mind, bring them up until all that's within them is me, and anything that's too deep for me to cut off, then I slowly let them down one by one. First the shield between Jareth and I falls, and instantly a surge of reassurance floods into me, and I draw strength from it.

Then I open myself to other bonds not quite as deep, and send out a tentative query. I flinch back when all that meets me is and echoing emptiness, and I quickly set shields back over that bond.

Then I begin the hard task, taking down the many layers of shields hiding me from the world one at a time, and setting them up properly. First comes one set at fifty meters, and each one progressively closer, shutting out more and more until I'm once again alone in my mind. The last is like and elastic band hiding just within my skin, blocking all thoughts and bonds.

I slowly let the bond with Jareth reopen, and it's like a fist unclenching. A wave of reassurance flows along it immediately, and I almost flinch back from the warmth before the flow decreases, and I can feel warm arms wrap around me instead.

:Vanyel?:

Jareth's voice comes brightly and confidently, affection dancing like lightning.

:I'm Torin as well, and more so.:

:It's part of a greater whole,: Jareth retorts as I let my head rest on his shoulder. :I'm not you, but I've seen your life, and I'm no longer the child I once was. I know you.:

:And I know you now,: I reply.

"Yes, but I know something you don't know," Jereth's tone takes on a teasing hint as he pulls away from me.

"What?" I ask, feeling better than I have in two days.

"Well, alsh'sh'el," the word rolls off Jareth's tongue as if he's said it a thousand times before. "You'll just have to wait until you're old enough."

October 7, 1984, Foster House, Surrey, Britain

I wake up, take a deep breath, and pull my shields together once again. I take another breath and carefully probe at the sore area where GalaMedren should be, and wince when only emptiness meets my calls.

I carefully rebuild the hastily thrown up shields on at a time, and sigh with the last one as it snaps into place just beneath my skin, blocking out the thoughts of the bird singing outside my window.

Then I roll out of bed and onto me feet, yawning before I walk over to my dresser and change into a fresh set of clothes. Today's a Sunday, so I don't have any school, but I remember Kunala's comments about sharing a room so I double check to make sure that all of my clothes are neat in the dresser, or in the laundry hamper, that my suitcase is sitting in the closet, and that the one ratty stuffed cat I've kept with me is tucked in on my neatly made bed before I quietly go down the stairs.

Kunala smiles at me, and spoons me some oatmeal out of the pot sitting on the stove. I put some berries in it before I start to eat. Kunala gently asks me some questions, but he leaves me alone for he most part and we sit together comfortably.

A car pulls up at ten, and as Kunala goes out to greet whoever's coming, I climb back up to my room to sit at the window.

I watch as a huddled child, dressed in hideous clothes five sizes too big, follows Kunala back inside along with a man dressed in smart blues. I frown as he draws closer, and have to restrain myself from running out of the house to help the child, because all I can feel is blood covering the boy like a cloak.

I move from my room and watch, hidden in the shadows at the top if the staircase, as the three people come into the house. The boy huddles in his baggy clothing and inches away from the two adults towards the stairs. I watch as he practically shrinks in on himself whenever the man or Kunala look at him, but when he thinks no one is paying attention, he looks around at the brightly decorated front hall that they were standing in, particularly fascinated by the various images of Hindu gods.

Kunala calls for me after a while, and I come down slowly and greet the man in blue.

"Hello Rowan," the man says gently to me, crouching so he's eye level with me. "How have you liked being with Mr. Misra?"

"He's nice," I say, stepping closer to Kunala as the man smiles and stands.

"Well then, you should be fine," the man says as I wind a fist in Kunala's pants and look at the boy. He's still looking around, but then he notices my gaze and immediately tries to make himself look smaller again. Kunala leaves with the man to get the boys belongings, forcing me to let go of Kunala's leg. I move cautiously towards the boy, watching the blood magic on his forehead even though its making me feel sick, and straining my eyes.

"Hello, I'm Rowan Davis," I say. "Who are you?"

"Harry," the boy says hesitantly. "I'm Harry Potter."

Chapter 9: New Years

January 1, 1985, Sayer Manor, Britain

I smile as I listen Jereth tear into the wrapping paper of his presents. It's nice to know that despite his protests, he's not entirely grown up. A smile tugs at my lips as I remember my glimpse of the presents piled beneath the tree. It's not like he's going to run out of presents any time soon, not with four sets of adults, Dad, Leo, and a grand aunt ready and willing to give presents. I turn to my presents as a muted flash of joy comes from his side of the bond.

In short order, I reveal a book (with private audio! according to the indented letters on the cover) on Faeri Magic from Grand-aunt Bailey, a plain ring strung on a cord as a necklace from Great-grandma Jean, and a pair of fuzzy socks stuffed with hard candy from Great-grandpa Kurt. Uncle Kaiden and Aunt Iris get me a set of books on what wizards know of the world before history (something a bit advanced for my supposed age, but you won't find me complaining), from Grand-uncle Tristan and Grand-aunt Islode comes a small toy that would move away from me and make noise once it was activated, and from Grandpa Mark and Grandma Karol I get a child sized piano that is supposed to teach me how to play ( shrinks to a key chain, and will grow with your child! according to the label). I get a scrap book filled with photos of Mum from Dad, and a simple, but serviceable dagger the no one seems to see from Leo.

:Torin,: Jereth calls, and I let the bond open more, so I can see Jereth holding a sheathed dagger away from his body like its a snake that will turn and bite him at any moment. :What do I do with it? It's from Leo.:

:Don't worry,: I reassure him, sending him my impression of the dagger Leo had sent me, making him glance up to where I'm sitting. :I got one too. Just tie it to your belt and leave it there. He probably thinks you'll need it at some point, and it's a good back up.:

:Alright,: Jereth says, pulling away from the bond. I smile slightly before I turn back to the gifts I'd gotten and pile them into my New Years bag. I just sit there listening to the adults talk and linger over their presents. Lucinda, our three year old cousin from Uncle Kaiden and Aunt Iris comes up to me curiously, and I smile slightly as she sits down in front of me and starts poking at me curiously.

January 1, 1985, Lionsmane Manor, Britain

"Sol," Grandpa greets Dad warmly as he opens the door before he turns to call behind him; "The Sayers are here!"

I clutch Jereth's hand tightly as we enter the home of our mother's parents. Before I can say anything though, someone slams into me and bowls me over, breaking my grip on Jereth's hand and thoughts bombard my mind as babbling assaults my ears. "-you're alright, and Gods Vanyel, why did I let you do that, from now on no more heroic sacrifices, no more wars, no more kings, no more fighting so much you're on a hair-trigger-"

"Yfandes?" I ask, startled by the sudden out pouring on Valdemaran.

"Lela!" a woman exclaims, and suddenly the weight that had been pinning me to the ground is gone. "I told you, no jumping on people."

"Lemme go!" Lela - Yfandes exclaims as I push myself into a sitting position, and someone goes omph before arms are wrapped around me rather strongly once again.

"Yfandes?" I ask again, reaching out with hesitant hands to hug the girl with he arms around me. "What are you doing? You remember?"

"Van," Jereh says before Yfandes can say anything. "Come on, let's not worry our parents."

I can feel Yfandes's head snap towards Jereth as her arms tighten. "Jereth?"

"Van, why does he know how to speak Valdemaran?" she asks in Tayledras.

"Because I watch his life as it came back to him, and I saw it coming through the cracks before the veil was swept away," Jereth says before I can speak, and I twitch, pushing my way out of Yfandes's arms.

"I can speak for myself, thank you very much," I tell them both snippily. Then I turn to face Dad and Grandpa, who're probably looking down at the confrontational kids. "Can we go play in the garden?"

"Sure," Dad says, amused by my no nonsense question. I give him and Grandpa a short nod before I fumble around and grab Yfandes and Jereth's collars and break them away from what ever they were doing and I force them to walk, or be dragged away.

Leo, who had come in as a quiet shadow behind, Dad ghosts along behind us, and I can hear Gradnpa and Dad start talking to each other as we leave the room. I manage not to crash into anything by virtue of my thin soled shoes letting me tell where the carpet is and isn't, but I don't let go of Yfandes or Jereth's collars until we arrive in some warm room.

"Talk," I demand, feeling around for a chair, then collapsing into it. "Jereth you first, you know more."

"Torin-"

"Talk," I snap, rubbing my temples in an effort to soothe my headache. Then I slowly start to reach out as I half listen to Jereth tell Yfandes what he remembers - the little flashes of knowledge and images, then finally watching my memories as they washed over me. I reach out to Yfandes, and this time there's an answer, and immediate warmth that fills a hollow space within me that I had realized was aching. The echoing emptiness is still there when I search for minds I've known, but there's less of it now, and I do the metaphorical equivalent of a blink as I realize that with Yfandes here, my shields are weaving themselves tighter with something filling the gaps I hadn't even been aware I was leaving for her.

The bond isn't equivalent to that of a Companion and their chosen, Yfandes is no longer a companion, but - :Yfandes?:

:Yes?:

:I'm older than you now.:

Chapter 10: Of Panic and Names

March 8, 1985, Old Ivy Church, Brookwood, Britain

I smile at Kunala as he looks at Harry.

"You want to change your name?"

"Yeah," Harry says shyly, twisting his fingers in my sleeve. "I know you don't mean to, but all I can think of when ever you say my name is the Dursleys, and I don't want to think about them."

This was a recent development, but one I fully support. Kunala had put his name up for consideration for adopting us, but he hadn't told us until word came that he was to adopt us. He'd moved with us away from Surry soon after, switching houses with an old friend of his, as had soon as it because clear that staying there wasn't good for Harry. Bertie may be a bad comparison, but I can't help but draw the parallels and find myself happy with Kunala.

"Have you though about this?" Kunala finally asks, and Harry nods. "Alright, what do you want your name to be then?"

"I want to be Kiran," Harry says solemnly. "Kiran Kunala Misra."

Kunala looks between Harry and I before he sighs. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you!" Harry says, running up to hug Kunala.

"Yeah, yeah," Kunala says gruffly. "Now let me write that down. Kiran Kunala Misra, right?"

March 9, 1985, Sayer House, Britain

I suppose this means that I am a trouble magnet, and nothing that happens to me will stop that. I think, as I am woken up by a hand over my mouth to stop me from screaming.

"Now you're going to be a good little boy and come with me quietly, unless you want your throat to get slit," a woman's voice whispers into me ear, making me aware of the cold line across my throat. I don't move, not wanting to tempt her into slicing my throat open, and the woman apparently takes this as acknowledgement because she carefully pulls me out of bed. I can hear someone doing the same thing with Jareth across the room, and I reach out to him.

:Jareth,: I call gently, my fingers tight around the grip of the knife that Leo had given us for New Years. He sends back a burst of wordless acknowledgment. :Do you have your dagger?:

He sends back an affirmative reply one again, and take a deep breath as suddenly a wand replaces the witch's knife at my throat, and a muttered word does something, but I ignore that. :Don't use it. I think they'll slit your throat rather than deal with a rebellious prisoner.:

He sends back another burst of wordless acknowledgement, and which I dare not show any signs on the surface, keeping my face screwed up in a scared expression, but inside I sigh in relief. Then I reach out in another direction.

:Leo,: I call, throwing a mental connection. :Leo, we're being kidnapped. Don't come in, they'll slit our throat if you try. Find us, where ever they take us.:

:Torin-: Leo starts, but I quickly cut him off as the witch lifts me up and pushes me out the window, where I'm caught by someone on a broom from the feel of it.

:Don't. They had a knife at my throat, and now I have a wand at my throat. I'm too small to be able to fight them. Find us when they can't kill us any moment.:

:Alright,: Leo says reluctantly. :Call to me the moment you can.:

:I will,: I promise, and I can hear a rustle of fabric before suddenly the wind buffets me as the broom moves forward. I grit my teeth because not only am I entirely out of control here, I wouldn't have been able to control the broom had I been alone on it. I instantly resolve to never get on a broomstick again in my life if I can help it. I can feel the moment we leave the wards I've been within all my life, and there's a deep chuckle from the man carrying me on the broomstick before suddenly I feel as if I'm being pushed through a tube much too small for me, and I can't breathe and there's a pain deep inside me from a place I'm well familiar with hurting because long after all of my other channels had healed under Moondance's magic, this one had been torn open again and again with every gate I was near.

My breath shudders as we're suddenly out and in fresh air once again.

"Mom! I've got two more to hold hostage!" the man holding me calls, and behind me I can hear two loud crack, but my attention is taken up more by the sudden feel of stability, and the subsequent impact as I am thrown onto the earth.

"You didn't even bother to bind him?" a female voice asks from above me as I try to scramble away from the people I can feel, and the man who carried me here laughs again.

"That one's blind. You don't need to worry about him getting away. Don't worry though, we bound the other one."

:Jareth,: I instantly think, reaching out.

:I'm fine Torin. Don't worry. How are you?:

:I'm fine,: I reply, only half paying attention to the conversation going on above me. I tun my attention to reaching out for Leo. I reach out and out and out, and I frown as I hit the edge of my range. The urge to cry wells up, and I don't stop the tears as the start of well up. This is part of what I miss the most about Valdemar, our mental network. It was a very rare occasion that I couldn't reach someone. :Jareth, I can't reach Leo. i told him to leave us alone until I found him again, and I can't reach him.:

Jareth instantly send out a wave of comfort. :Don't worry. I'm sure he'll notice before long. He's probably ready to go already, and is just waiting for you. He'll figure out we're gone soon.:

:I hope its soon enough,: I reply.

Chapter 11: How to Escape

March 9, 1985, Sayer House, Britain

I pace back and fourth impatiently. I know what Tori said about the knife and wand to his throat, but if he doesn't say something -

I stiffen as once, twice, thrice, something tears through space. I turn and bolt to the boys' room. It's empty, but I ignore it as I reach out for the quickly fading spell and latch onto it. It was unraveling quickly but I held it down and pinned it between two sheets of metaphorical glass. It's a captured gate spell, needing less magic because it doesn't need to be sustained, and I examine it, quickly finding the there it specified.

I turn on the spot and reach for the destination-

:Duck!:

I drop forward in a roll and come up with my wand at a woman's throat -

"Let them go," I say coldly, the fake wand digging into the witch's throat, as I hold a knife across the throat of the wizard in front of me.

The three people in front of me are startled, but before they can do anything, Torin pulls out of the man's grasp and lashes out blindly at the man who had been holding him with the knife I gave him for New Years, catching him across the gut in what will almost certainly prove to be a fatal blow. The other two start forward as I mutter, "Somnium."

The witch falls forward and I don't even bother muttering Somnium again to put the man I'd held at knife point asleep before I drop the useless wand. I point my index finger at the elderly woman, the last kidnapper standing as Jereth had taken care of his own kidnapper, and with a slight flex of my magic she falls to the ground. Torin's head is moving, and I can feel something sweep over me as he drops some of his shields, but after a moment, he straightens.

"There isn't anyone else who will attack us here," he says, bending to plunge the blade of his knife into the man he'd given a gut wound to. I note his wording as the man goes still and he moves over to do the same with the woman Jereth had wounded. Then he wipes the blade on the woman's trousers, sheathes it, and holds his arms out to Jereth, who collapses into them with a sob.

"Hey, hey," he comforts Jereth gently, coxing him to let go of the knife and turning him so he can't see the bodies.

"I'm sorry," Jereth sobs into Torin's shoulder as I silently grab the knife and tuck it into my belt after pausing to wipe it on the woman's trousers.

"You aren't me Jereth," Torin says, gently rubbing his brother's shoulder. "You saw my life, and even lived it enough to pick up some of my experiences, but you didn't live it. You aren't me. And that was your first kill."

Jereth sobs at that, but some of the underlying shame is gone. I start to carefully grab the bits and pieces from the bodies that I can see that will go to waste, before I change my mind and simple vanish the bodies

"Tell me," Torin continues. "What would have happened had you not one that?"

"She could have escaped?" Jereth says, though it sounds more like a question, but Torin nods. I separate the thing we may want from the piles of clothing as wrap them up in one of the shirts. Then I point at the rest, and the neatly fold themselves up ans put themselves into a neat pile.

"That's right. And what would have happened if she escaped?"

"She-she would have kept doing this," Jereth sniffs. "I get that Torin, but I still feel horrible."

"Good," Torin says firmly, pulling back slightly so he could give the impression of meeting Jereth's eyes. "As long as you regret it, you will be fine. If you can kill someone without a reason, without feeling guilty, then it's bad. But that woman, she would have hurt others. She probably has hurt others. And she was threatening to kill you. Do feel bad because she was a person, but don't blame yourself entirely."

"Thanks Torin," Jereth says, taking a shaky breath. "Alright."

He turns, flinching slightly at the sight of the pile of folded clothes at the folded shirt I'm holding as I wait patiently. His eyes don't go near the dark spots on the ground under to moon's light.

"Do you know where we are?" Torin asks as he turns to face me. "I couldn't reach you."

I frown slightly and tilt my head back. The moon is in the same place as it was in England, and there are the mountains around us -"We're in the Pyrenees mountains."

"You mean France?" Torin asks after a moment as I bend down to lift the folded clothes off the ground, and I nod.

"Alright you two, come here and give me a hug," I say, and am treated to two almost identical looks of bewilderment. Torin even managed to get the direction right. "I can't get you back home if you're over there, and I need you to hang tight so you don't get thrown off."

"You should have just said so in the first place," Torin grumbles. He walks over to me and manages to find an arm before something sifts, and he wraps his arms around me confidently.

"Alright, here I -

The blackness consumes us for a moment.

"- go," I say as the world is suddenly back.

"Bastard," is all Torin has time to say as he lets go of me and turns before he vomits.

"Torin!" Jereth cries, quickly forgetting his concern over his brother's sickness. I smile slightly as I set the clothes on the garden table for the elves.

"I'm fine, Jereth," Torin says as he straightens somewhat. "It's just Gateing too much too soon."

"Oh," Jereth says, looking somewhat embarrassed. Then he gets a stubborn look. "Still, let me help you."

I watch in amusement as Jereth somehow manages to pick Torin up. He staggers off to their bedroom, and manages to get Torin into the bathroom. Torin washes the acid out of his mouth before he manages to stumble his way to his bed.

"Wait till we tell Dad!?" Jereth says as I shut the door, and I frown. Then I shrug. Later.

Chapter 12: Under the Old Oak Trees

Chapter 11: Under the Old Oak Trees

March 10, 1985, Kidnapper's House, France

I drop my close up shields them moment the dizziness of apparation fades.

"Well?" Leo asks me as I regain my bearings, and I catch a glimpse of my pale face from his eyes before I turn from his mind and reach out even farther.

"They're still in the same place they were in yesterday," I confirm, and he nods.

"Should I go alone, or . . . ?" Leo asks, and I hesitate for a moment, contemplating the idea that had been growing in my mind.

"I'll come, just give me a moment," I say. "There's something I want to try first."

I sense Leo's agreement more than I feel it as I retreat into my mind and weave a careful net of magic around myself. I consider it carefully for a moment, thinking about how easily it can go wrong, before I shrug mentally and allow the magic to "settle" around my form, changing it. I bring myself out of the trance with my eyes still closed, almost unwilling to see if the magic had really worked, before I let my eyes blink open.

"Ah!" I cry, my eyes flying shut again and scrunching up, and I scowl.

"That's really impressive," Leo remarks, his hands feeling smaller on my shoulders as he steadies me.

"I thought it would help if I could see," I hiss through gritted teeth. "I forgot what it was like. The sun - it's so bright."

"Here," Leo says, and there's a pause as one of his hands leave my shoulder before he slides a pair of -

"Glasses? Why are you giving me glasses?" I ask, my hand reaching up to touch them.

"They're sunglasses, they'll block some of the light," Leo says, stepping back. "Try again now."

I carefully let my eyes open a little, then let them open fully when the light doesn't hurt.

"Oh," I say, blinking as I look around me. Even with the sunglasses, the world around me is filled with color. I have memories of seeing, and I've used other people's sight, but colors weren't as intense as they seem now, and a soft smile touches my lips. "Thank you, Leo."

"Of course," Leo replies, his golden eyes flicking from mine as he steps back. "Are you ready, Vanyel?"

I'm only half surprised that Leo knows me name. His magic does not come from the earth, instead welling from the planes that the Karsites summoned demons from so long ago. It's entirely possible that Leo was alive back then. "I'm ready."

My shields are still down, and the frightened thoughts of the people in the shack reach me with ease now, making me wince. I spare a moment of thought on ethics before I send out a gentle wave of calm that will erode the frantic thoughts of the people within the shack. I follow behind Leo as he cautiously pushes the door open, magic swirling at my finger tips. I stumble slightly over the doorstep, and frown at myself as I send another wave of calm to the people at the sudden rise of their frantic thoughts. I nod to Leo when the people are calmer, and the two of us spend a couple of minute searching the room, but it's clear that there's noting there.

If I hadn't know of the people here, I would have just thought this was another of the old pureblood families that made just enough to support themselves. It isn't until I close my eyes that I manage to sense the magic hiding the entrance to the basement, hidden under a couple of layers of glamours and situated right in front of the toilet in the side room.

"I found it," I call softly to Leo, and he turns from examining the tarnished silver in the cabinet next to the multi purpose table, most likely some old family dishes.

"Thank Vkandis," he says, closing the cabinet and walking towards me. "It's too quiet here."

"I know," I murmur in reply before I lean forward to tap lightly on the painted monkey. The wall turns silently to reveal a spiral staircase leading down ward.

"You go first," I tell Leo, stepping back. "I'm not entirely used to this body."

"Alright." Leo slides past me, and I shadow him quickly, sending waves of clam to the scared minds almost continuously now as they listen to the stairs shift under our weight. At the bottom of the staircase if a long corridor of packed dirt and doors. We walk to the first door, and I nod when Leo glances at me. Leo pushes the door open slowly, and I wince and quickly focus the waves of calm I'm sending out on the person inside. I only manage to calm them down somewhat, but even that slows their frantic thoughts down as I follow Leo into the room.

"Hey," I say, kneeling down in front of the woman huddle on a pile of straw in the corner of the cell. "It's alright, we won't hurt you."

I coax her out of her cell and into the light, hiding my wince at the numerous injuries covering her body. She lifts her wrists with some prompting so that I can see the rope holding them together, and I cut through it with a single touch, allowing it to fall to the ground.

We spend the rest of the day freeing the people huddled in the cells. Each of them tries to stay as far from Leo as possible, but despite flinching, they do allow me close.

When all of the people are down, Leo creates a Gate to St. Mungo's at the end of the corridor. I hide the pain that comes and gently prompt the people towards all of them are through, Leo closes the gate and I collapse against him.

"Hey, are you alright?" Leo asks gently, helping me slide to the ground. I grumble slightly before I swipe away the curtain of magic I'd been sustaining, and slump abruptly before Leo catches me.

"I'm fine," I mutter, and open my eyes to the familiar darkness once again.

November 10, 1985, Sayer House, Britain

"What is it?" I ask Sol before I carefully lift my spoon to my mouth. A flash of Jareth's vision shows me another frown.

"Apparently, five years was long enough for mourning," Leo remarks lightly. "You three are being invited to Christmas parties and the like."

"Oh," I murmur, not entirely sure what to say. I don't remember my mother, Monday, but I can emphasize with my father sadness. "What's Christmas?"

There's a pause that makes me look up, before Sol laughs. "Christmas is a religious celebration for the birth of the son of a god. It's one of the muggle's major religions, so it's celebrated almost everywhere."

"Do wizards celebrate it as well?" I ask, eating another spoon of oatmeal.

"Not really," Leo replies. "Wizards celebrate a large variety of different things around this time, and because of that, muggleborns are in the majority. So, we call this time of year Christmas."

"Alright," I say.

Chapter 13: Time Then Time Again

December 21, 1985, Moonrise Manor, Britain

I want to wrinkle my nose as I feel around the room, brushing minds lightly to get a feel for people. Almost everyone here is related to me if you go back a few generations and back down the family tree, and many of them were married. I sigh as I turn my attention back to the utterly boring conversation going on around me. I had been pushed into the corner with the rest of the children after the children's dance at the beginning. Everyone from Keziah Eldcohen to my Lucinda and Lela (Y'fandes) are here, and the conversation is lacking as they argue over Quidditch.

A familiar mind sweeps along, and I move my head to face him. "Bored?"

"Utterly," I murmur, taking the hand extended to me. "Jareth's not exactly normal, so I've forgotten that normal children, while utterly beautiful and amazing, can also be very boring when absorbed in arguments."

The song ends as Leo pulls me out onto the dance floor. The next song starts, and after four beats, I step off in time with Leo into one of the old dances I had learned as heir to the estate a life time ago. I know the steps by heart, having found a simple joy in dancing after living with the Tayledras for the first time. The music is different, but the beat is the same, and I step with an ease not present in my steps normally as I trust Leo not to let me run into anyone. We end with matching bows to the sound of applause. I blink against the darkness as I realize that the two of us are alone in the middle of the room.

"Another dance, Lord Ashkevron?" Leo asks as we stand from out bows, once again clasping hands.

"Now, now," I shake my head. "You know that is not I title I ever bore."

"Ah, but were Heralds not lords in their own right?" Leo asks rhetorically. "Are you having fun yet?"

"You know what?" I say as the next song begins. "I am."

December 25, 1985, Old Ivy Church, Brookwood, Britain

"Presents!" Kiran laughs as he bounces on my bed, and I smile sleepily at him, happy at the light in his eyes.

"Come on down you two," Kunala calls, and Kiran pulls me out of bed - not that I struggle - and down the stairs to the tree that Kunala had set up in the beginning of December. We open the present, and I smile as I watch Kiran. This is his second Christmas with us, but he's still just as awed by the presentss we gave him as he had been on his first Christmas with us.

June 21, 1986, Moonrise Manor, Britain

I blink blindly at the small girl before me. There's something odd about her mind that takes me a moment to recognize.

"Hello," she says, her mind reaching for mine much in the same way 'Fandes's does. "You must be the Shadow Stalker."

"Must I?" I ask, almost amused at the mention of the title given to me years ago.

"Yes," the girl says solemnly, the feeling echoed through the link I'd grabbed. "That's what the clouds tell me."

The clouds . . . vrondi?

"Do you mean the clouds with blue eyes?" I ask, and there's a rush of relief across the bond even as the girl replies positively.

"They tell me you once were taller, and that you gave them an amazing game to play," she adds, and I smile at her.

Uncontrollable magesight. It's a bit early for gifts, but she's old enough that it's believable, unlike my awakening of mindspeach at birth.

"Well, tell the vrondi I said hello then," I tell her with a smile.

"Vrondi?" she asks, curiosity backing the feeling.

"Yes, that's what the blue-eyed clouds are called," I say with a slight smile.

"Oh! Thank you!" she says.

"So, what's your name?"

"I'm Luna. Luna Lovegood."

December 25, 1986, Old Ivy Church, Brookwood, Britain

I manage to smile at Kiran as he opens his presents with a quiet contentment that contrasts with the manic excitement he had shown last year. Something had been bugging me lately, and I can't shake the disquiet that falls over me when ever I look at Kiran now. There's a sense of wrong that I can't shake, and on top of that, my magesight has taken to overwhelming me at random moments, reminding me uncomfortably of when I had been unable to control the magegift itself. I blink, and suddenly the world is painted in the varying shades of light that portray the energy.

"Rowan?" Kiran asks, making me look up. I have to bite back a gasp as I realize what had been unnerving me. There's a thick miasma of blood magic is over Kiran's forehead, almost going down to his eyes. "Are you alright?"

I blink and the magesight is gone as quickly as it had come, but I can't keep my eyes from Kiran's forehead. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Kiran asks, his disbelief obvious. I shake myself and tear my eyes away.

"Really."

March 3, 1987, Old Ivy Church, Brookwood, Britain

I glance up at Kiran and wince as he catches me again.

"Can you just tell me what's wrong already?" he asks, his voice halfway between calm and angry.

"I-"

"Tell me," he insists. "I'm sick and tired you you dodging the subject!"

"There's a large blob of foul magic that clings to your forehead," I blurt out, adverting my eyes and flinching back. We haven't discussed magic, but after so many bouts of uncontrolled magic from Harry, we wouldn't deny that it exists.

"What," Harry says, perfectly calm. I look up to see his face slowly turning panicked as he sits down on the chair. "Get it out. Get it out!"

Chapter 14: Out With the Old

March 4, 1987, Old Ivy Church, Brookwood, Britain

The situation reminds me of Falconsbane - of Leareth - and of Van's efforts to kill him. And quite honestly, I wish that I had someone here other than Kiran, like Need. Need would be great for trying this again!

But what I have is five years of personal experience, and half a millennium of an odd, half-removed practice. Kiran is quiet, his breath shaky as I pace around him. I'm not going to kill Kiran, I don't really feel like I can, but I still have to make it seem like he isn't a good place to store your soul or whoever it is won't leave. Finally, I tell him to lay down.

"Close your eyes and think about math. What's 7 minus 5? Don't tell me, just think it."

I try to distract him as I slowly build a layer between him and his mind. The soul takes notice of this, uncoiling from its spot as I wall Kiran away from his pain. When Kiran can't access his body anymore, the soul strikes out, weaving itself through Kiran's mind and taking control. But I'm not done yet. Now that Kiran can't feel it, I crack down with vengeance.

It takes the soul - as occupied by its takeover of Kiran's mind as it is - a moment to notice then pain. Then it hisses in pain and surprise, pulling itself back from every pace in Kiran's mind, uncaring of the damage it caused, and gathered itself into a bundle to be yanked away from Kiran like Falconsbane had been yanked from Andesha. Only, I'm ready from his, and I reach out with fiery claws to tear the soul into pieces and burn every bit of it. When I'm done, all that's left is ashes, and I release my control over Kiran's body. He gasps and his heart flutters wildly, but the hold was not long enough to do damage, and he quickly begins to breathe normally.

His mind is another matter though, and now I extend my focus there, walking the pathways and healing every gaping wound and scar I can find. The task is much easier than it would have been if the had been Kiran's soul that caused these wounds, and I am grateful for that small mercy. Then I turn to the ashes. I remember Andesha's struggle with what Falconsbane left behind, but as much as I want to I can't just erase the ashes. So I take the ashes and scatter them.

I pull out of Kiran's mind slowly, and check his body once more. He's asleep, a deep sleep, but nothing bad. I can't tear down the wall that blocks Kiran away from his mind. He is asleep with his body, and his soul flows out of from behind the wall to fill the expanse of his mind like feet in an old pair of shoes.

I draw myself back out and away from Kiran, and I look down to see if there's anything left.

For a moment I want to gasp because where there had been foul black magic, there are now strands of green, growing before my eyes and knitting together.

June 21, 1988, Moonrise Manor, Britain

"I swear, you are amazing now," I say, staring at Luna through Jareth's eyes. Lela is standing beside me, staring in what could be considered awe. It took me forever to figure out exactly who she was.

"Why thank you," Medren replies, giving us a curtsy. Her dress, a duplicate of one my mother's dresses, matches exactly none of the various styles that the wizards utilize, but it somehow works perfectly on her. "It's quite fun actually. No one pays attention to what I'm saying so long as I mention one of the creatures that Father made up every once in a while."

"Oh! What creatures are those?" Jareth asks enthusiastically, making Luna laugh.

"Well, there's the Heliopaths - they're beings made of fire . . ."

August 12, 1990, Sayer House, Britain

"Torin! Torin where are you?" Dad calls, and I quickly make my way through the hallway towards his voice. "There you are!"

He sounds relieved before he carefully pushes someone - Luna - forward. "Torin, I need you to take care of her, alright? There's been an accident."

"I will," I promise, and he pats my head before he turn and gets into the floo. "St. Mungo's!"

"Luna, what happened?" I ask, pushing her back and looking at where I guess her eyes are. She smalls charred, and there's a hint of the foul scent of a potion. I reach for her mentally when she doesn't reply, and get a sense of shock from her. "Luna?"

"Mom died." She's still in my arms, and she feels cold. "Mom died, and I was right there. Why didn't I do anything?"

Pandora's dead?

"Hey, you smell a little charred," I note, keeping my shock out of my voice as I tug her sleeve lightly, bringing her towards the bathroom. "How about you take a bath right now?"

"Mom's dead," she just repeats. I turn the bath on, and awkwardly help he out of her clothes, leaving her underwear on because ew, and have her step into the bath tub and sit down. She doesn't start shivering until I start pouring water over her head, and she just sits there as I wash her hair. When I'm done washing her, I pull the plug and help her gently out of the tub and into a towel.

"Hey," I say, snapping under her nose.

"Mom's dead."

"I know. But can you dry yourself off for me?"

" . . . yes."

She dries herself off, and puts on the clothing that I hand her from the pile that she'd left behind when she came to visit.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"Mom's dead. She - It's all my fault."

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

I'm putting this on hiatus so I can concentrate on fewer stories. I'm sorry.

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Hi. This is abandoned, and will go to my Dribbles story tomorrow. I apologize.