Allrighty, here we go. Another new story, but I'm telling you right now that I'm going to be even more erratic in my updating, because I've got about three other stories going on right now, plus one songfic I REALLY REALLY REALLY NEED to write, because it is THE ABSO-FREAKING-LUTELY best K/N song ever. STACEY, YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. Unfortunately, the rest of you have to wait. And stacey, if you tell anyone, I will eviscerate you. (just like nathaniel heh. Only he healed, and you wouldn't. wouldn't precious nealan be sad? Boohoo *tear*)
Keita originally posted this, so the first two or three chapters belong to her, as well as the wonderful premise. After that, though, it's me here's hoping I don't ruin it. Also, of course, the characters are wonderful tamora pierce's.
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Scattering
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Jonathan, his coal-black hair now peppered with gray and white, woke up to a strange humming. Trying to locate where it was originating from, he peered around the room. He narrowed down the whereabouts of the source, and got up and walked over to it.
The mantle. The mantle?
He quickly peered from his left to right side, trying to find out what was making that noise. It wasn't humming really — it was more like an eerie keening of several different voices. His eyes widened as he focused on the special engraved box that held the Dominion Jewel.
Jon removed the Jewel from its case and walked over to the window to see clearer. He was too preoccupied with the problem to bother lighting a candle. The voices grew louder, still humming their ghostly, aimless melody.
Suddenly, the Jewel rose from the cushioned box and began to glow brilliantly. As the voices rose to a crescendo he noticed it began to sound like . . . three voices? A bright light blazed from the Jewel, and white spots momentarily blinded him as they danced in his vision. When his eyes cleared, the first thing he noticed was that the Jewel was . . . gone!
Had the light not blinded him, he would have noticed that the Jewel flashed three separate colors — silver, blue and green — before splitting into balls of fire and launching through the window and into the night. As it was, the Dominion Jewel as it had once been was gone.
Jon made a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Thayet sat up, her night-black hair tousled. "Jon?" she said groggily. "Is something wrong?"
Jon turned slowly. He told his wife what had happened, and they both decided that the whole incident should be kept hush-hush, lest the information leak into surrounding countries who might want to try their luck against a now greatly weakened king.
What no one knew was that at the exact moment that the Jewel split, three babies were brought into the world, silent and cold.
***
A girl-child was stillborn to a woman living in a lonely cabin in the far northern reaches of Tortall. However, before the mother noticed her child's unnatural silence, a sliver of something glinted in the light and buried itself in the baby's skin. The wound healed itself immediately, leaving a tiny crescent-shaped scar in the middle of her collarbone, almost as if it were a pendant on a chain.
The girl's eyes suddenly opened, and she began to take on a more healthy pallor. She opened her tiny mouth and began to wail, protesting against the cold world she had been brought into.
***
Somewhere along the River Drell in the eastern valleys of Tortall, another girl was born with the coldness of death on her face. This time there was a midwife attending the birth – as well as several onlookers. This girl was no commoner, but a high ranking noble.
The midwife felt the girl's lifeless chill as soon as she touched the babe's skin, but before the woman could utter a sound, the child opened her eyes and began to scream. The midwife was so overcome with relief – the fief would have an heiress, after all – that she didn't mention her first observation to anyone except her husband, and he told her she was losing her wits.
No one noticed the tiny crescent-shaped symbol that suddenly appeared on skin of the baby's right wrist, just before she began to wail.
***
Deep south, in the desert, a Bazhir boy was born with the chill of death. The tribeswomen began to keen their grief, and as blinded as they were from their tears, not a single one saw the tiny piece of something that buried itself in the baby's ankle, leaving a tiny crescent-shaped mark. They were too overcome by joy as the boy began to wail.
***
For a brief second all of the babies scars flashed, then faded. The voices could wait. They had to wait, lest they consume the people that bore them. So, unbeknownst to anyone, a tiny ball of fiery magic settled itself down for a nice long, comfortable wait. Until it was ready . . .
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Well well well! as I said before, that was ALL KEITA. *claps hands in a golfclap* good on her. I just changed the wording and some of the plot to make it fit in with how I wanted to write. (time for some shameless adverts) So please, drop me a review, and if you like the way I write, check out my other stories! (Search for the Six, if you haven't read it, but right now, my current baby is Shrouded Peril -- contains kel, evin, and a dark reincarnation of joren. And it's a lot better than that makes it sound. Trust me.) in any case, REVIEW!