Herald's Silence
An AU Valdemar fanfic
By Shadow Flare
*Everything that you recognize as belonging to ML belongs to her, not to me, though all original characters are mine. This is VERY AU, so don't flame me about that. OOC characters, too.*
Chapter One: Shadows of the Past
***
Blackness. There was nothing but blackness. She could see nothing, but she knew that she was in the midst of a battlefield. And there was emptiness, where once two loves greater then all had been. The girl lay on her back, blind, dazed, and tired, all the nodes tapped out. She was going to die...alone. Velgarth would fall...and she would fall with her world. She Felt her friends die around her, one by one, until she alone was left. But there were some people left, all of them Gifted...too young to fight, barely trainees, but they could carry on. If only...if only she could create a bridge!
A bridge somewhere away from here. To a new world, where the Darkness had not yet penetrated to. Hanna invoked Mage-Sight, and found one last node, more powerful then all the rest, that the Dark Adept had not yet been able to tap. That would be enough...she still had enough strength somewhere inside her that combined with the raw node-power would form a bridge to another world, to save those trainees with their Gifts and their Companions-and those few Bards and Healers who remained-to save them all, so that one day, their descendants could go up against Leareth, and destroy him utterly. This would be her legacy. She reached out, and touched the mind of Princess Leshia, one of the Gifted Herald trainees: the Heir had not yet finished her training, though she was close, and so had escaped the battlefield.
:Leshia.: she Mindspoke the Herald-trainee.
:Hanna?! You're still alive?!: the girl Sent back.
:Not for long. I'm going to do something that's going to kill me, but save the rest of you. Otherwise, we're all gonna die. I have nothing left to live for, anyway...both Arel and Danyen are dead.: Hanna grimly said, trying not to break down at the memory of her Companion Arel and her lifebonded, Danyen, both now dead. :So I might as well go out doing something worthwhile.:
:What are you going to do?: Leshia asked.
:Create a bridge to another world, so all of you can escape. I'll make sure Leareth cannot follow you, but after that, you're on your own. All of you assimilate into the new world's population, but maintain Silence...only those of the new world Chosen or having Healer or Bardic Gifts can know of your existence, and they must keep Silence. Until the day when your descendants are strong enough to combat Leareth and win, that is. Remember everything, remember it all. They will need to know. Goodbye, Leshia.:
:Goodbye, Hanna.: Leshia said, as Hanna dropped the Mindspeech thread, drawing on the node-power, spinning the bridge into another realm...Earth, the name called to her. No magic there, besides what the Heralds, Bards, and Healers brought...Leareth wouldn't want that world. (Goddess, grant me strength.) she prayed, as she carefully hid what she was doing from Leareth. The Herald-Mage snapped the bridge into place. :NOW!: she yelled in Broadsend-mode, and she Felt as the last refugees fled Velgarth. When they were gone, Hanna shut down the bridge, feeling her life spin away with those threads.
She Felt the dark presence in front of her. Leareth. He had not found where she had Sent the Herald, Healer, and Bardic trainees: she knew because he would have caught the bridge and stopped their crossing. But Hanna didn't have enough strength left to care, as she spun her presence outward, to Earth...she created a new Web, and the four Herald-Mage Guardians would be Leshia of the North, her new Queen's Own, Darian of the East, Destria of the South, and Sylvan of the West. Leshia and the others knew what to do.
And Hanna dropped into darkness. (Danyen, please be there-) she thought, as she died...
Leareth stared down at the Herald-Mage named Hanna Adele, and his face took on a wrathful expression once he realized that she was dead and beyond his reach. Her heavily silver-streaked blond hair fell in silken tendrils around her head, falling over her face, and her silver eyes were still open, the light already fading. But his rage faded once he realized that she would be reincarnated, if not now, then someday.
"Someday, Hanna." He said to the air. "You will return, and then you will be mine."
And the Dark Adept's laughter was the only sound in the doomed world of Velgarth. "And you cannot escape."
***
Vanyel Ashkevron woke, and was cold. The boy's silver eyes opened: it was dawn, or nearly. This wasn't the first time he'd had the same dream about the girl named Hanna Adele, who was a Herald-Mage- whatever the hell that was. And every time, he woke up in a cold sweat: it always ended with that Leareth person laughing manically about his plans to catch up with that Hanna girl.
And for some reason, the whole scene seemed familiar somehow...like he had lived it, very long ago. Vanyel bit his lip, thinking, as he slid out of bed and dressed, in his typical all-black. His father hated him dressing as a Goth, and of course, Vanyel did it anyway, to spite his father. Besides, he liked all black.
(And today, he's shipping me off to Aunt Beastly.) he thought, remembering the conversation between his parents that he'd heard, and his father's confirmation of the fact to the entire family. (And I bet that he's told her everything bad about me he can, and told her how he wants her to train me. Including the scrapping of my clothes, if possible.)
Savil Ashkevron was a teacher at a public high school in Alexandria, Virginia, on the other side of the country. (Well, at least I'm getting out of California, I never liked it here anyway.)
Vanyel sardonically regarded his suitcases. (Pretty fine life I've led, when all of it fits into two suitcases. And a backpack. And two instrument cases.) On his bed were two instrument cases, one containing a flute, the other a violin. (Savil demanded that I bring the violin and the flute, because she wants me to help teach one of her students how to play the flute and Savil wants to learn to play the violin. I can't believe Father agreed, though. But other then teaching the girl-Lyn Littrell, I think- and Savil, no music. Certaintly no arts classes.)
Withen Ashkevron yanked open the door, and was surprised to see his oldest son awake, packed, and dressed.
"As you can see, sir, I am ready already." Vanyel said coldly, putting the flute case into his backpack, and sliding the backpack on, followed by the carrying strap of the violin case, then picking up the suitcases. Withen gaped for a moment, but his composure soon returned, and he ordered curtly for Vanyel to come with him and out the door, and in minutes driving away to the airport.
***
"Where is he?" the girl asked, twisting around in the hard seat, her book "Dragonflight" temporarily forgotten in her lap.
"The flight was delayed." Savil Ashkevron told the girl. "Lyn, settle down. I know you're impatient, but sit still."
Tylendel Frelennye rolled his eyes at Lyn, who hit him with her book. Savil's other proteges, Donni and Mardic, were trying hard not to laugh at their friends' antics, and were failing.
"This is not what I need." Savil muttered. "Having to deal with a spoiled brat of a nephew in addition to four proteges."
Lyn shrugged. "It's not my fault Tylendel's a slow learner." she said with an absolutely straight face.
"That is such a case of the charcoal calling the kettle black!" Tylendel countered. "You were Chosen when you were 10, and it took you a year to learn to ground and center! You've been a trainee for six years!"
Lyn whacked the blond again with her book. Savil made a warning noise.
:We do have Silence to maintain, you know.: she said to all four of her proteges. :Now, if you must argue and act foolish, argue about something else.:
People from the flight suddenly flooded through the doors.
"Who are we supposed to look for?" Lyn asked. "What does this 'Vanyel' look like?"
"He's carrying a violin case." Savil said dryly. "That's all I'm saying for now."
"Great help you are, Savil." Lyn commented acidly.
"How many sixteen-year old boys carry a violin case?" Tylendel asked, as the crowd disapated. Finally, Lyn caught sight of the petite figure with black hair and silver eyes, who had a backpack and the strap of a violin case flung over his shoulders, and who was dressed like what people at Lyn-and her friends-'s high school called 'Goths'.
"Savil-is that him?" Lyn pointed to the small newcomer.
"That's Vanyel alright." Savil said dryly.
"He can't be more then 5'3" tall! No wonder we couldn't see him, little slip of a thing that he is. And he looks like a girl." Lyn commented. "Stop staring, 'Lendel. We don't need the whole airport knowing that you're shay'a'chern." The dark-haired girl waved at Vanyel, trying to beckon him over.
Vanyel sighed looking around the airport. (Where is Aunt Ice anyway?) he thought, just as he was almost knocked over. He managed to stay on his feet, and looked around, seeing a tall girl with long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail, who was waving at him, obviously trying to call him over. Beside her, he saw a tall blond boy about his age-who the girl then whacked with her book-, and behind the two was his aunt. Vanyel invoked his walls of indifference, and went over to them.
"Took you long enough to get here." the dark-haired girl commented.
"Lyn, you're too impatient." the blond said, and got whacked in the head with a book for his trouble. "Stop that, you're giving me a headache."
:What do you think?: Savil Mindspoke Tylendel in Private-mode.
:He's lovely, Savil.: the blond responded, and Savil rolled her eyes.
:Besides *that*, youngling! I'd ask Lyn for her opinion, but she's falling asleep.:
:How can you tell? I don't notice a difference.: Tylendel said dryly.
An AU Valdemar fanfic
By Shadow Flare
*Everything that you recognize as belonging to ML belongs to her, not to me, though all original characters are mine. This is VERY AU, so don't flame me about that. OOC characters, too.*
Chapter One: Shadows of the Past
***
Blackness. There was nothing but blackness. She could see nothing, but she knew that she was in the midst of a battlefield. And there was emptiness, where once two loves greater then all had been. The girl lay on her back, blind, dazed, and tired, all the nodes tapped out. She was going to die...alone. Velgarth would fall...and she would fall with her world. She Felt her friends die around her, one by one, until she alone was left. But there were some people left, all of them Gifted...too young to fight, barely trainees, but they could carry on. If only...if only she could create a bridge!
A bridge somewhere away from here. To a new world, where the Darkness had not yet penetrated to. Hanna invoked Mage-Sight, and found one last node, more powerful then all the rest, that the Dark Adept had not yet been able to tap. That would be enough...she still had enough strength somewhere inside her that combined with the raw node-power would form a bridge to another world, to save those trainees with their Gifts and their Companions-and those few Bards and Healers who remained-to save them all, so that one day, their descendants could go up against Leareth, and destroy him utterly. This would be her legacy. She reached out, and touched the mind of Princess Leshia, one of the Gifted Herald trainees: the Heir had not yet finished her training, though she was close, and so had escaped the battlefield.
:Leshia.: she Mindspoke the Herald-trainee.
:Hanna?! You're still alive?!: the girl Sent back.
:Not for long. I'm going to do something that's going to kill me, but save the rest of you. Otherwise, we're all gonna die. I have nothing left to live for, anyway...both Arel and Danyen are dead.: Hanna grimly said, trying not to break down at the memory of her Companion Arel and her lifebonded, Danyen, both now dead. :So I might as well go out doing something worthwhile.:
:What are you going to do?: Leshia asked.
:Create a bridge to another world, so all of you can escape. I'll make sure Leareth cannot follow you, but after that, you're on your own. All of you assimilate into the new world's population, but maintain Silence...only those of the new world Chosen or having Healer or Bardic Gifts can know of your existence, and they must keep Silence. Until the day when your descendants are strong enough to combat Leareth and win, that is. Remember everything, remember it all. They will need to know. Goodbye, Leshia.:
:Goodbye, Hanna.: Leshia said, as Hanna dropped the Mindspeech thread, drawing on the node-power, spinning the bridge into another realm...Earth, the name called to her. No magic there, besides what the Heralds, Bards, and Healers brought...Leareth wouldn't want that world. (Goddess, grant me strength.) she prayed, as she carefully hid what she was doing from Leareth. The Herald-Mage snapped the bridge into place. :NOW!: she yelled in Broadsend-mode, and she Felt as the last refugees fled Velgarth. When they were gone, Hanna shut down the bridge, feeling her life spin away with those threads.
She Felt the dark presence in front of her. Leareth. He had not found where she had Sent the Herald, Healer, and Bardic trainees: she knew because he would have caught the bridge and stopped their crossing. But Hanna didn't have enough strength left to care, as she spun her presence outward, to Earth...she created a new Web, and the four Herald-Mage Guardians would be Leshia of the North, her new Queen's Own, Darian of the East, Destria of the South, and Sylvan of the West. Leshia and the others knew what to do.
And Hanna dropped into darkness. (Danyen, please be there-) she thought, as she died...
Leareth stared down at the Herald-Mage named Hanna Adele, and his face took on a wrathful expression once he realized that she was dead and beyond his reach. Her heavily silver-streaked blond hair fell in silken tendrils around her head, falling over her face, and her silver eyes were still open, the light already fading. But his rage faded once he realized that she would be reincarnated, if not now, then someday.
"Someday, Hanna." He said to the air. "You will return, and then you will be mine."
And the Dark Adept's laughter was the only sound in the doomed world of Velgarth. "And you cannot escape."
***
Vanyel Ashkevron woke, and was cold. The boy's silver eyes opened: it was dawn, or nearly. This wasn't the first time he'd had the same dream about the girl named Hanna Adele, who was a Herald-Mage- whatever the hell that was. And every time, he woke up in a cold sweat: it always ended with that Leareth person laughing manically about his plans to catch up with that Hanna girl.
And for some reason, the whole scene seemed familiar somehow...like he had lived it, very long ago. Vanyel bit his lip, thinking, as he slid out of bed and dressed, in his typical all-black. His father hated him dressing as a Goth, and of course, Vanyel did it anyway, to spite his father. Besides, he liked all black.
(And today, he's shipping me off to Aunt Beastly.) he thought, remembering the conversation between his parents that he'd heard, and his father's confirmation of the fact to the entire family. (And I bet that he's told her everything bad about me he can, and told her how he wants her to train me. Including the scrapping of my clothes, if possible.)
Savil Ashkevron was a teacher at a public high school in Alexandria, Virginia, on the other side of the country. (Well, at least I'm getting out of California, I never liked it here anyway.)
Vanyel sardonically regarded his suitcases. (Pretty fine life I've led, when all of it fits into two suitcases. And a backpack. And two instrument cases.) On his bed were two instrument cases, one containing a flute, the other a violin. (Savil demanded that I bring the violin and the flute, because she wants me to help teach one of her students how to play the flute and Savil wants to learn to play the violin. I can't believe Father agreed, though. But other then teaching the girl-Lyn Littrell, I think- and Savil, no music. Certaintly no arts classes.)
Withen Ashkevron yanked open the door, and was surprised to see his oldest son awake, packed, and dressed.
"As you can see, sir, I am ready already." Vanyel said coldly, putting the flute case into his backpack, and sliding the backpack on, followed by the carrying strap of the violin case, then picking up the suitcases. Withen gaped for a moment, but his composure soon returned, and he ordered curtly for Vanyel to come with him and out the door, and in minutes driving away to the airport.
***
"Where is he?" the girl asked, twisting around in the hard seat, her book "Dragonflight" temporarily forgotten in her lap.
"The flight was delayed." Savil Ashkevron told the girl. "Lyn, settle down. I know you're impatient, but sit still."
Tylendel Frelennye rolled his eyes at Lyn, who hit him with her book. Savil's other proteges, Donni and Mardic, were trying hard not to laugh at their friends' antics, and were failing.
"This is not what I need." Savil muttered. "Having to deal with a spoiled brat of a nephew in addition to four proteges."
Lyn shrugged. "It's not my fault Tylendel's a slow learner." she said with an absolutely straight face.
"That is such a case of the charcoal calling the kettle black!" Tylendel countered. "You were Chosen when you were 10, and it took you a year to learn to ground and center! You've been a trainee for six years!"
Lyn whacked the blond again with her book. Savil made a warning noise.
:We do have Silence to maintain, you know.: she said to all four of her proteges. :Now, if you must argue and act foolish, argue about something else.:
People from the flight suddenly flooded through the doors.
"Who are we supposed to look for?" Lyn asked. "What does this 'Vanyel' look like?"
"He's carrying a violin case." Savil said dryly. "That's all I'm saying for now."
"Great help you are, Savil." Lyn commented acidly.
"How many sixteen-year old boys carry a violin case?" Tylendel asked, as the crowd disapated. Finally, Lyn caught sight of the petite figure with black hair and silver eyes, who had a backpack and the strap of a violin case flung over his shoulders, and who was dressed like what people at Lyn-and her friends-'s high school called 'Goths'.
"Savil-is that him?" Lyn pointed to the small newcomer.
"That's Vanyel alright." Savil said dryly.
"He can't be more then 5'3" tall! No wonder we couldn't see him, little slip of a thing that he is. And he looks like a girl." Lyn commented. "Stop staring, 'Lendel. We don't need the whole airport knowing that you're shay'a'chern." The dark-haired girl waved at Vanyel, trying to beckon him over.
Vanyel sighed looking around the airport. (Where is Aunt Ice anyway?) he thought, just as he was almost knocked over. He managed to stay on his feet, and looked around, seeing a tall girl with long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail, who was waving at him, obviously trying to call him over. Beside her, he saw a tall blond boy about his age-who the girl then whacked with her book-, and behind the two was his aunt. Vanyel invoked his walls of indifference, and went over to them.
"Took you long enough to get here." the dark-haired girl commented.
"Lyn, you're too impatient." the blond said, and got whacked in the head with a book for his trouble. "Stop that, you're giving me a headache."
:What do you think?: Savil Mindspoke Tylendel in Private-mode.
:He's lovely, Savil.: the blond responded, and Savil rolled her eyes.
:Besides *that*, youngling! I'd ask Lyn for her opinion, but she's falling asleep.:
:How can you tell? I don't notice a difference.: Tylendel said dryly.