A Gift She Gave
Disclaimer: If you recognize anything, it is not mine and sadly never will be for it belongs to Mercedes Lackey.
Author's Note: It has been such a long time since I typed. My rough drafts are stacked up by my computer, just waiting to be typed. But I can't bring myself to type and now I have writer's block as well. This piece is written with my best friend's help, who will shortly join me in publishing. On to the story now, or I will go on forever. This was intended to be a short story but the ending slipped in there so this is under Mercedes Lackey fanfiction. This doesn't have much to do with Valdemar. A bit depressing but I was feeling down at that time.
I never knew why she did it. I wasn't grateful to her then and often mean. Sometimes I even hated her. She was always better at everything. She had better grades, more friends, and a scholarship at Princeton.
Our whole family came from Austria. My mother treated me as if we were still in Austria. In Austria, children have to obey adults and be quiet when guest are there. Mostly we have to go to our rooms when guests arrive. I wasn't used to that. My mother never learned the language and wanted me to translate everything. It was embarrassing to do so in front of my friends.
I consider myself American because I was here since I was six months old. I know English better than German and nothing my mother did would make my American accent go away. My mother wanted me to become like my sister, a genius. She didn't understand why I wanted to play with my friends rather than read or study. After all, my sister always did. I hated my sister. I hated how she was and how she acted. I hated her when my parents were angry with me for not getting straight A's.
But every time I was frustrated with anything, she would help me. She did my chores when I wanted to play. She helped me do my homework when I was unable to do it. And that was harder to see. I was so mean to her and she helped me without me asking her. I thought she wanted to just help me because she was expected to and that made me hate her even more. Sometimes I just wanted to get to college to get away from all of them!
All through highschool, I didn't see much of my sister. Because my parents couldn't focus on her as much as they wanted to, they focused on me. I had never known until now how hard it is to study when you know your friends are outside and waiting for you. I just hoped for college. So I studied hard, hoping I could lead my own life soon.
I went to college and I passed. But I wasn't happy. Because of a terrible accident, my sister was gone. My sister had gotten her license and a year after she went to college (my mother ordered her to come home for a visit) she was driving my mother and me to my school. Suddenly there was a truck coming right at us, He must have wanted to pass another car, but I never found out. Anyway, my sister tried to turn the car or stop but the truck crashed into her car. My mother and I were sitting on the right hand side and we were fine. But my sister died immediately.
I was in deep shock. I hated her but I didn't want her to be dead. My parents, after the funeral, never spoke about her. It was, to them, as if she had never lived. Were they ashamed of her dying? But I remembered how she had helped me. Slowly I began to understand.
Somehow, she knew what I had been going through, being the younger sister of a genius. She couldn't stop being who she was so she tried to help me the only way she knew how. That it wasn't any help wasn't her fault.
"Next stop: Washington Cemetery!"
The bus driver's voice startled me. I had been remembering my sister. I guess college teaches you to think deeply. The bus stopped and I got out.
I had been here only once. It was on the day of my sister's funeral. Since then, no one but her friends had visited her grave. My parents never went there, and forbade me to come as well. But I had to visit her, only to know if she was real and that I hadn't imagined her.
My feet knew the way, even though I didn't, and before I could recollect my thoughts I was there. Silently, I gazed at the headstone, which had my sister's name carved on it. It was just a regular headstone. The only way it was different was that a white horse was carved on it.
"I did that," a voice behind me said. "She loved white horses, you know."
Startled, I turned around. Behind me was a woman, who looked to be in her mid twenties. Her blond hair gleamed in the sun, making her face seem to be surrounded with a golden glow. Her gray eyes stared me down, making me feel as if she could read my mind.
"You must be her sister," the stranger said again. "With that red- brown hair and the green eyes, the resemblance is uncanny."
I had often been told that I looked like my sister. "Who are you?" I asked timidly. "And I didn't know that she liked white horses."
She smiled a bit. "I was Mary's best friend," she replied in a solemn voice. "And she never told anyone about her liking horses because your sad excuse for parents would have been shamed to see her loving animals. That was what she told me." She sniffed. Obviously she thought as much about my parents as I did.
"She was a kind person, Mary was," the woman replied. " You probably don't know that. She had to hide her true self behind all the books so her parents wouldn't crush her. She never liked studying but she was brought up to be that way. I can tell you, when she was in the library, she was a totally different person." She seemed to be lost in thought.
"What about the library?" I asked. This was new about my sister. I knew she liked the library and had forbidden me to follow. I always thought it was because she didn't want to be disturbed. Of course that was the only place my parents didn't say anything about when we had to go there. It was my secret hiding place. I never knew that it was my sister's too.
She chuckled, "I remember once that she had just come from a class which had been taught by a substitute. That teacher came around at lunch and wanted to ask her to grade some papers for him since he thought her a quiet and responsible student. Well, every teacher knew that they could bother her before and after school. But not at lunch. That was when she was just an ordinary teenage girl. I once heard a teacher remark that if a kid was too perfect, it wouldn't be right. I thought that sub would burst; Mary dressed him down like she was his mother and him standing there, slack jawed." She laughed, apparently remembering.
"Are you sure we are talking about my sister?" I asked. It seemed impossible to me how different she was in school and at home.
"If your sister is Mary Grendon, yes that is.. was my best friend," she said, seeming a bit impatient with me. "And my name is Sarah. She may have mentioned me."
I vaguely remembered Mary mentioning that name. I wanted to ask one more thing, "What were her favorite books?"
"Of course it was Brightly Burning and the other Valdemaran books!" Sarah smiled. "That is where she found out about the white horses and loved them. I can still picture her with a stack of books in front of her, and reading a Valdemaran book behind them."
I turned back to the head stone. I now saw that the horse had white wings and blue eyes. Being an avid Mercedes Lackey reader myself, I knew at once that this was Windrider.
"Sarah.." I turned around but she was gone. I searched for her all over but I couldn't find her. Finally, I came back to Mary's grave. I stared at it for a long time.
"Thank you," I whispered. She would probably never know how much she had done for me, but I would never forget her.
I turned around. I heard a sound and turned around around again. I thought I had seen someone and heard Sarah laugh by the grove of trees next to the grave, but no one was there. Shrugging, I headed toward the exit to begin a life that my sister had saved.
Two young women and two horses watched the young girl go.
"You always enjoyed being Seen, didn't you?" the first one, who was dressed in a white uniform, asked.
"Well, I could hardly not do anything," Sarah said. She was dressed in white as well. The white stallion whickered in agreement. "Even if Darien didn't pester me about it, my Empathy would have driven me crazy."
The red haired girl laughed, and her green eyes shone. Her lively personality had Sarah soon laughing as well.
:We should go back: the stallion, Darien, said.
:I agree. We weren't granted very much time and Sarah used up most of it with her little act: The other horse, which had been silent until now, spoke up.
"I agree," Sarah said. "We have to get ready for our next circuit. Circuits are fun, but I hate my cooking."
Her friend laughed again. "Only you think circuits are fun. I happen to like reading and a hot bath once every day" she said. "I am glad that the Collegium puts us together on a circuit. Our Gifts as well as our fighting skills are perfectly matched, and what I don't know, you certainly do. We are a perfect team. And you haven't done any cooking since I became your partner for the circuit. I cook and you clean, which is agreeable to us both."
Sarah turned to her friend. "Are you coming?" she asked. "Being a Herald isn't easy when you are from another world." She tried to joke.
The girl was looking back. "Go ahead. I'll soon join you" she said.
Sarah shrugged and vanished. The other Herald, for that was who they were, looked at the small figure. Suddenly she smiled again.
"I have a feeling that she will be a Herald when she dies" she said to her Companion.
Her Companion whickered. :If there is a way to go to Valdemar before you people are dead, she would be in the Collegium right now:
"You are a Companion, Sandry, and you should now!" she teased.
The Companion looked at her Chosen. Sandry had to drag her Chosen to Haven to get her to believe in Companions. She had been a bit old for Companions to Choose, but she made up for it by dragging her Chosen to the world of the living. This world had them in books. She snorted. It was a funny thing where you could have the history of a whole world in a book and not many errors in the history and not know that the world existed.
Mary turned and vanished. The visit to her old world had healed the wound that the separation from her sister had caused and the doubts that she had had.
Disclaimer: If you recognize anything, it is not mine and sadly never will be for it belongs to Mercedes Lackey.
Author's Note: It has been such a long time since I typed. My rough drafts are stacked up by my computer, just waiting to be typed. But I can't bring myself to type and now I have writer's block as well. This piece is written with my best friend's help, who will shortly join me in publishing. On to the story now, or I will go on forever. This was intended to be a short story but the ending slipped in there so this is under Mercedes Lackey fanfiction. This doesn't have much to do with Valdemar. A bit depressing but I was feeling down at that time.
I never knew why she did it. I wasn't grateful to her then and often mean. Sometimes I even hated her. She was always better at everything. She had better grades, more friends, and a scholarship at Princeton.
Our whole family came from Austria. My mother treated me as if we were still in Austria. In Austria, children have to obey adults and be quiet when guest are there. Mostly we have to go to our rooms when guests arrive. I wasn't used to that. My mother never learned the language and wanted me to translate everything. It was embarrassing to do so in front of my friends.
I consider myself American because I was here since I was six months old. I know English better than German and nothing my mother did would make my American accent go away. My mother wanted me to become like my sister, a genius. She didn't understand why I wanted to play with my friends rather than read or study. After all, my sister always did. I hated my sister. I hated how she was and how she acted. I hated her when my parents were angry with me for not getting straight A's.
But every time I was frustrated with anything, she would help me. She did my chores when I wanted to play. She helped me do my homework when I was unable to do it. And that was harder to see. I was so mean to her and she helped me without me asking her. I thought she wanted to just help me because she was expected to and that made me hate her even more. Sometimes I just wanted to get to college to get away from all of them!
All through highschool, I didn't see much of my sister. Because my parents couldn't focus on her as much as they wanted to, they focused on me. I had never known until now how hard it is to study when you know your friends are outside and waiting for you. I just hoped for college. So I studied hard, hoping I could lead my own life soon.
I went to college and I passed. But I wasn't happy. Because of a terrible accident, my sister was gone. My sister had gotten her license and a year after she went to college (my mother ordered her to come home for a visit) she was driving my mother and me to my school. Suddenly there was a truck coming right at us, He must have wanted to pass another car, but I never found out. Anyway, my sister tried to turn the car or stop but the truck crashed into her car. My mother and I were sitting on the right hand side and we were fine. But my sister died immediately.
I was in deep shock. I hated her but I didn't want her to be dead. My parents, after the funeral, never spoke about her. It was, to them, as if she had never lived. Were they ashamed of her dying? But I remembered how she had helped me. Slowly I began to understand.
Somehow, she knew what I had been going through, being the younger sister of a genius. She couldn't stop being who she was so she tried to help me the only way she knew how. That it wasn't any help wasn't her fault.
"Next stop: Washington Cemetery!"
The bus driver's voice startled me. I had been remembering my sister. I guess college teaches you to think deeply. The bus stopped and I got out.
I had been here only once. It was on the day of my sister's funeral. Since then, no one but her friends had visited her grave. My parents never went there, and forbade me to come as well. But I had to visit her, only to know if she was real and that I hadn't imagined her.
My feet knew the way, even though I didn't, and before I could recollect my thoughts I was there. Silently, I gazed at the headstone, which had my sister's name carved on it. It was just a regular headstone. The only way it was different was that a white horse was carved on it.
"I did that," a voice behind me said. "She loved white horses, you know."
Startled, I turned around. Behind me was a woman, who looked to be in her mid twenties. Her blond hair gleamed in the sun, making her face seem to be surrounded with a golden glow. Her gray eyes stared me down, making me feel as if she could read my mind.
"You must be her sister," the stranger said again. "With that red- brown hair and the green eyes, the resemblance is uncanny."
I had often been told that I looked like my sister. "Who are you?" I asked timidly. "And I didn't know that she liked white horses."
She smiled a bit. "I was Mary's best friend," she replied in a solemn voice. "And she never told anyone about her liking horses because your sad excuse for parents would have been shamed to see her loving animals. That was what she told me." She sniffed. Obviously she thought as much about my parents as I did.
"She was a kind person, Mary was," the woman replied. " You probably don't know that. She had to hide her true self behind all the books so her parents wouldn't crush her. She never liked studying but she was brought up to be that way. I can tell you, when she was in the library, she was a totally different person." She seemed to be lost in thought.
"What about the library?" I asked. This was new about my sister. I knew she liked the library and had forbidden me to follow. I always thought it was because she didn't want to be disturbed. Of course that was the only place my parents didn't say anything about when we had to go there. It was my secret hiding place. I never knew that it was my sister's too.
She chuckled, "I remember once that she had just come from a class which had been taught by a substitute. That teacher came around at lunch and wanted to ask her to grade some papers for him since he thought her a quiet and responsible student. Well, every teacher knew that they could bother her before and after school. But not at lunch. That was when she was just an ordinary teenage girl. I once heard a teacher remark that if a kid was too perfect, it wouldn't be right. I thought that sub would burst; Mary dressed him down like she was his mother and him standing there, slack jawed." She laughed, apparently remembering.
"Are you sure we are talking about my sister?" I asked. It seemed impossible to me how different she was in school and at home.
"If your sister is Mary Grendon, yes that is.. was my best friend," she said, seeming a bit impatient with me. "And my name is Sarah. She may have mentioned me."
I vaguely remembered Mary mentioning that name. I wanted to ask one more thing, "What were her favorite books?"
"Of course it was Brightly Burning and the other Valdemaran books!" Sarah smiled. "That is where she found out about the white horses and loved them. I can still picture her with a stack of books in front of her, and reading a Valdemaran book behind them."
I turned back to the head stone. I now saw that the horse had white wings and blue eyes. Being an avid Mercedes Lackey reader myself, I knew at once that this was Windrider.
"Sarah.." I turned around but she was gone. I searched for her all over but I couldn't find her. Finally, I came back to Mary's grave. I stared at it for a long time.
"Thank you," I whispered. She would probably never know how much she had done for me, but I would never forget her.
I turned around. I heard a sound and turned around around again. I thought I had seen someone and heard Sarah laugh by the grove of trees next to the grave, but no one was there. Shrugging, I headed toward the exit to begin a life that my sister had saved.
Two young women and two horses watched the young girl go.
"You always enjoyed being Seen, didn't you?" the first one, who was dressed in a white uniform, asked.
"Well, I could hardly not do anything," Sarah said. She was dressed in white as well. The white stallion whickered in agreement. "Even if Darien didn't pester me about it, my Empathy would have driven me crazy."
The red haired girl laughed, and her green eyes shone. Her lively personality had Sarah soon laughing as well.
:We should go back: the stallion, Darien, said.
:I agree. We weren't granted very much time and Sarah used up most of it with her little act: The other horse, which had been silent until now, spoke up.
"I agree," Sarah said. "We have to get ready for our next circuit. Circuits are fun, but I hate my cooking."
Her friend laughed again. "Only you think circuits are fun. I happen to like reading and a hot bath once every day" she said. "I am glad that the Collegium puts us together on a circuit. Our Gifts as well as our fighting skills are perfectly matched, and what I don't know, you certainly do. We are a perfect team. And you haven't done any cooking since I became your partner for the circuit. I cook and you clean, which is agreeable to us both."
Sarah turned to her friend. "Are you coming?" she asked. "Being a Herald isn't easy when you are from another world." She tried to joke.
The girl was looking back. "Go ahead. I'll soon join you" she said.
Sarah shrugged and vanished. The other Herald, for that was who they were, looked at the small figure. Suddenly she smiled again.
"I have a feeling that she will be a Herald when she dies" she said to her Companion.
Her Companion whickered. :If there is a way to go to Valdemar before you people are dead, she would be in the Collegium right now:
"You are a Companion, Sandry, and you should now!" she teased.
The Companion looked at her Chosen. Sandry had to drag her Chosen to Haven to get her to believe in Companions. She had been a bit old for Companions to Choose, but she made up for it by dragging her Chosen to the world of the living. This world had them in books. She snorted. It was a funny thing where you could have the history of a whole world in a book and not many errors in the history and not know that the world existed.
Mary turned and vanished. The visit to her old world had healed the wound that the separation from her sister had caused and the doubts that she had had.