This fic is based on a universe first introduced in my other fic series: The Soul of the Creation. I severely recommend that you read that one first and foremost, before you read this story, otherwise this one will not make any sense at all.
Hi's! Thanks to everyone who read my fic "The Soul of the Creation", if you haven't, like I said, read it first!! It's very important! I decided that I was going to write a story with a lot of short chapters, to see what it was like. I know where this is going, but I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to get there, so if you have any suggestions, I welcome them! (By the way, the grass whistle is dedicated to Feye Morgan)
And held it long enough for north
To be converted into south,
And then by measure blew it forth.
By measure. It was word and note,
The wind the wind had meant to be-
A little through the lips and throat.Robert Frost - "The Aim was Song"
The mournful sound of a grass whistle wafted over the tiny village. Women looked up from hanging their washing or watching their children, up to the high hill that overlooked their town, the place where the music was invariably coming from.
A short woman with dark, shoulder-length hair looked up from the meal she was cooking. "What's that?" she said, preoccupied.
"You know what that is…" said her son, a boy of about eighteen with thick, dark hair that stood up off his head despite its length. He was standing in the kitchen, watching her intently.
"Oh, Dilandau at it again?" the woman said, smiling distantly.
"He says it helps him think better." the boy said, leaning over his shorter mother and tasting the sauce she was preparing.
She slapped his hand, "Oh, quit it Ravi, there'll be time to do that at dinner! Anyway, what's that boy thinking about that he needs to distract the entire village with it?" she asked, her eyes showing that she was still listening to the music.
Ravi shrugged, the spoon hanging out of his mouth. He disliked lying to his mother, but he could never tell her the truth about Dilandau. He had uncles who fought in that war, and if they found out… Well, if anyone found out, Dilandau could probably never be safe again.
He still remembered what a shock it had been to him when he found out that the best friend he had such a rivalry with had been a commander in that fateful war, and he had been reborn… He knew that there was no way he could understand what thoughts were going through Dilandau's mind while he pierced the midday with that melancholy tune.
He had learned long ago to let Dilandau be by himself when he wanted to. There were times when he felt a little nervous knowing that there was a whole different life that Dilandau had left behind. Maybe this one wasn't good enough, and Dilandau would decide to leave them all behind. But, Ravi supposed, that was pointless to think about. Ravi chewed absentmindedly on his spoon and listened to the tune.
Up on the hill, Dilandau pressed his thumbs together, letting the song flow over him. The tinny, shrill sound of a grass whistle could not do justice to the meaning of this song, but Dilandau didn't know how to play any other instrument, preferring to perfect his swordsmanship in his youth. He would have taken up music earlier, and with a different instrument, if he had known how easily he could deal with his old memories, letting them drift off in the notes that he played. This song… Yes, it was the song that they heard most often when they were back there, when they were soldiers: The Dragonslayers anthem. He could never remember the words, even back when he had been there. Something about 'never giving up', 'never surrendering', 'never letting go'.
Tears pricked his eyes, stealing his breath even as he blew the last note. He wondered what his most trusted soldiers would think of him now. He was older now, almost eighteen, but he was no longer a soldier. He was just a normal boy, albeit one that was exceptionally good at swordplay. The men of Asturia had come more than once to ask him to become a knight there, but he had refused. War was behind him, he didn't want anything to do with it. Allen didn't seem to mind that, which was a boon to Dilandau. He had thought for a moment that Allen would want him to become a Knight Caeli, like Allen and Dilandau's father…
Would his old friends mind that without the constant press of his changed fate weighing him down, he was free to chose not to fight anymore? They never knew him as he was now, they probably wouldn't be able to understand the person he had become, the person he would have been without the influence of the sorcerers on his soul. Dilandau still had dreams sometimes about them, dark shadows coming towards him with glinting eyes. He shuddered thinking about it, and turned his mind back to his Dragonslayers.
Probably his old friends would think it's wrong for him to stop fighting. Dilandau didn't want to think about it anymore. He sighed loudly and lay down on top of the hill, watching the clouds drift toward the horizon like soap bubbles caught in the pull of the drain.
Abruptly, a head obscured his view of the clouds. Dilandau scuttled back in surprise.
"Hi, there." said his mother, grinning, "Don't you think you ought to get your head out of those clouds before they fade away and it's lost forever?"
Dilandau smiled sheepishly, "Just thinking, you know…" he said.
Celena nodded, "I know." she said sagely, "But thinking of any kind is best done on a full stomach. Let's get some food in you."
Dilandau shrugged, "I guess I can't argue with that kind of logic." he stood, and put his arms out like a blind man, "I'll follow you, then."
"Yeah you will!" Celena shouted playfully, "When I beat you down the hill!" she took off running like a woman possessed, which at one time, she was.
Dilandau, not to be outdone, took a flying leap onto the path, and ended up beating her to the door. But just barely.
Far away, in a dark, secluded place, the boy and his mother were being watched. A group of silent men, clad in shadow, spoke about him as they watched him go about his business. Their voices were hushed, they sometimes sat in long silences for no apparent reason. When they spoke, it was always to the point. It seemed they had gotten used to the passage of time, letting it flow over them without disturbing them.
"He's ready now, right?" asked one, a trace of eagerness escaping from his lips.
"I think so." another replied slowly, "But if he isn't, what will happen?"
"Perhaps he'll join us." a third said, voice cold and slow.
There was a long pause.
"Perhaps." answered the second voice.
"He'll be frightened, you know." piped up another voice, "He doesn't know we're still around, affecting his life."
"But he thinks about us," said the third voice, "that's just as important."
"Do you think he fears us?" the first voice asked, this time more nervously.
"Yes…" the second voice said tentatively, "deep inside his heart he does, I believe it." There was another pause as they watched the man that they had helped create, this person who could not have been who he was without them.
This strange, quiet group of people in the shadows, these memories from Dilandau's long-gone past, they were watching him, biding their time until they could finally do what they had desired for so many years. Affect his life, and change his destiny, alter his fate once more.
Author's note: Ooooh! Spooky! I hope you know who those guys are, because they're super important in this story. We thought we were rid of them, that they were gone forever, but no! They come back, to alter fate again!! Buwahaha… Anyhow, I'm trying to make this story less verbose than The Soul of the Creation, and I'm trying out the a lot of short chapters format. I hope you like it, and all… I've never done one before. All my chapters end up being like 4000 words. Blah. This one's less than 1500. I leave you in suspense! Tell me what you think!