1 Some Paths are Blazed
Dory looks over at Horven as he's driving the carriage along the road, periodically clucking to the trotting skeets, enticing them to go faster. Their syncopated six-hoof beat is a constant reminder of the passing time. She's been doing this every few minutes for what feels like hours. How long can it possibly take to get to the next town?
"Aren't we close yet, Horven? I thought it was only a league or two. That babe's not waitin' for the sun, ya know," she tells him matter-of-factly. Then she feels guilty for snapping at him. He's really been lovely the past few weeks, and she isn't sure how she could have survived without his help and knowledge. Accidentally meeting him that day at market when it felt like everything around her was unraveling, had proved to be a miracle. Since then, he's been nothing but caring, helpful, and generous. He made her feel like herself again, and that was priceless.
"It's almost finished, Dory. You just need to hang on a little longer," he replies.
The charity of her earlier thoughts evaporates into annoyance at yet another enigmatic answer, one that seems to have nothing to do with her concerns. This exasperates Dory, making her shift restlessly on the bench beside the larger man.
It has been hours since she received the summons that the Heartly family were ready to have their baby. She has to be there; she's their midwife. The pregnancy had been complicated enough as it was and she didn't want to lose both mother and child due to Horven's inability to get her there on time. What if one of the babe's little hooves got caught in the birth canal?
Actively pushing the horrific images away, Dory huffs quietly to herself and starts running through the possible scenarios (all with happy endings) that she might encounter when another wave of dizziness takes her. She flails out for the rail with a splayed hand.
Horven kindly lays a hand on her shoulder to help steady her again. It's just nerves. Get it together, Dory! she thinks. Just because she's been feeling a bit dizzy for the past couple of hours doesn't mean anything's wrong.
This time, though, the dizziness does not abate, and Dory feels like the entire world is trying to spin out of its orbit beneath her seat on the cart.
"Horven, I think I need to…" she manages to gasp out, before she has to lean over the side of the cart attempting to heave the contents of her stomach to the road, but to no affect. She's never been motion sick before, maybe she's getting a cold.
Horven stops the cart gently, reining the skeets in. They shuffle and snort to themselves, wrapping their long elephantine noses with affection before feeling out to see what might be interesting to nibble in the road. Horven gets down from his seat coming around to Dory's side. The screeching of the metal springs and jostling of the wagon make her senses spin again, and she clutches the railing for support.
Reaching up for her, Horven lifts Dory down effortlessly, ignoring her weak attempts to bat his hands away—always one for independence, his kind and compassionate Dory.
"Shhhh, Dory. It's all right now. It's time. Just let go. Be a good girl now. You've done it. Let go; it's time," he says to her over and over again, soothingly.
His words are anything but soothing to Dory, though. They don't make any sense. What has she done? How can she let go? What does any of that mean?
She tries to speak again, to ask what in the hell Horven's going on about, but she doesn't have the strength. Blinking is becoming too great an effort. The last things she registers beyond Horven's gentle grey eyes are his quiet shushing and a growing brightness. It's becoming overwhelmingly intense as she finally loses consciousness.
The brilliant glare of the large blue sun's light glazes the surrounding desert. The figure of a man is visible standing near a small hovering shape that may or may not be another person. The many-layered robe, coloured in varying shades of black and grey, shifts around him and blows its tatters in the wind that now constantly moves over the vast and devastated landscape. As the wind currents shift these layers about his body, bits and pieces of silvery metal glint in the light as they briefly become visible. His head and face are covered against the grit in the breezes, but as he moves to the side of the hovering young woman, he removes the protection of the cloth from his mouth and bends down close to her. Whispering that 'It's time' into her ear, he gently caresses Dory's temple one last time as she finally succumbs and loses consciousness.
He allows the last of the fantasy that he has spun in her mind for the past several days to slip away. He has found that the Chosen give their Gift more freely if they are calm at its passing. This is a lesson that has come from much time and many experiences. The Chosen shouldn't suffer; this is his one small defiance.
He reaches impossibly deep into the layers of his clothing and removes a bone-coloured staff about a meter in length with a green crystal buried in the point of it. There are silvery wires that twist around the stone and lead down into and around the soft ivory of the staff. It almost seems like the wire creates patterns or perhaps words across the bone rod, but in the glare it's hard to see the glinting metal, and he doesn't need to. Through the centuries, the staff has become as much a part of him as the hand that grips it. He no longer needs the reminders that are pressed into the once living wand.
With a soft, intimate smile gracing his lips, he leans forward, kissing Dory gently on the forehead. His kind and gentle eyes hold genuine affection for the young woman floating near his feet as his gaze takes her in one last time, adding her permanently to the pantheon of other Chosen in his mind.
Dory is dressed simply in the muted browns and greens of the farming people that had once populated this portion of the planet. She looks to be perhaps 20, but the people of this world had aged differently than their human cousins, and she is actually closer to 60. She would still be a child amongst his own people. He silently wishes her safe journeys as he takes a step away from her, careful not to step in the blood pooling beneath the two tiny punctures he'd made at the base of her skull some two hours earlier.
Pressing the point of his staff first to the 'medical' device that he'd given her at their meeting three weeks ago, the green stone begins to glow with an inner light that matches the one coming from the catalyst device he'd moved to her chest. He next places the point of the crystal to the spot he has just kissed, and pushes her gently down toward the ground with it. As the last drop of the young lady's' blood falls silently to the desiccated, once living sand beneath her, a reaction ignites and a soft glow flows from her. At first the glow gently surrounds her before rapidly turning into a raging inferno, consuming her body completely. The energy from her transformation feeds directly into the green crystal that he has pressed to her forehead.
His timing is, as usual, perfect. As the last of her Gift to him is pulled into his staff, and the catalytic initiator falls to the ground, he feels the beginnings of the building energy that will become their next wormhole start to coalesce near him. Taking a look around at the once lush and lovely planet of Jelaxacor Alpha, he smiles sadly in farewell.
He closes his eyes a moment, silently thanking the consumed masses for their unasked-for sacrifice before he bends down to retrieve the initiator, placing it into his coat. In the process, he pulls out another small device. Flicking on his perception filter, he slides it back into its pocket. Lifting his staff with his right hand, he taps the dimensional disturbance in the air before him with the crystal he has just charged. In a flash of incandescence, it drains itself completely, and he feels nearly pulled apart before he pops into existence on a bustling street corner in an obviously living and very healthy city. Only a little distance from him, a man makes a rude comment about trans-matting anywhere one feels like, and moves away.
Looking at all the life and energy around him, the dark man grins in delight. He should have several days to explore before the inevitable arrival of the Horde, and then another few weeks to locate the next transition point before he has to leave again. He wonders where he is and begins walking along the sidewalks, taking in the sights. Smelling the salty tang in the air and the freshening of the breeze, he turns down a street that appears to lead him toward a beach.
The technological level on the planet is fairly advanced. There are plenty of air cars and transmat stations placed at orderly intervals. Being a cosmopolitan city, he sees several varieties of aliens meandering through the streets, some moving purposefully as if on business, but many others strolling in family units, obviously being tourists. With growing curiosity, he picks up his pace toward the nearby ocean he can smell and its unobstructed view. Where is he?
By the quality of light, he guesses that the sun he can't see setting behind the buildings is a red giant. That narrows the choices down, as does the tech level, but there are still a few thousand options for what planet he's come to in this particular century. Finally exiting the shadows of the high-rises for the lower vacation homes near the beach, he continues moving until he reaches the water.
Doing a slow turn as the twilight deepens, he notices the sky beyond the water begin to lighten—ah, more than one sun. The choices narrow further. Moving down to the water's edge, he kneels, dipping his fingertips into the surf and then slides them directly into his mouth, gauging the content and salinity with his superior senses. High in magnesium and low on salt, interesting— the number of planets narrows further. Straightening, he gazes up into what is proving to be a very short night, looking for determining stars.
His gaze has been fixed on the sky for some time when he registers the sounds of light breathing near to him. Glancing to his left, he sees that a young dark-haired woman has come to stand a dozen meters or so further down the beach to watch the sunrise. Feeling his gaze, she glances his way and gives him a quizzical once-over, but smiles at him before returning her gaze to the horizon.
Mirroring her, he sees the edge of sunlight grow and expand as it begins to rise out of the sea. Not positive until it is further from the horizon, he thinks it may be a yellow sun—narrowing the choices again.
"You're going to be a bit warm, over-dressed like that," he hears from the direction of the young lady.
Startled, he looks down at himself, before turning his now piercing gaze to her face. The perception filter should be showing her a fellow dressed just the way one would expect to be dressed for whatever season it is here… wherever they are. But if she is seeing him as he truly is, then she's the One. The Maestra would be so pleased. She had said they would always find him, and she was right. He didn't even have to go looking this time—what luck, and right at the beginning, too.
"Perhaps," he says enigmatically, waiting to see what else she says. Maybe she will reveal how fully she perceives him.
Stepping closer, the young woman asks, "Are you some kind of actor or something; wearing a costume from last night's show? All that black and the layers makes you look like a mad scarecrow!" Her words more than her friendly laughter reveal that she sees him exactly as he is.
Grinning in delight at this realisation and in reply to her comment, he removes the covering from his head entirely, stuffing it into another of his voluminous pockets. He's just about to turn fully and respond to her when movement at the horizon catches his attention.
Looking to his right, he catalogues that it is indeed a yellow sun, probably a dwarf, but what peripherally caught his notice is the rising of a third sun. Seeing its limb emerge along the horizon's edge with the burst of a green sprite, he knows exactly where he is.
"Oh, you're not from here," he hears his young prize say astutely, the smile evident in her voice. "Well then, welcome to San Helios. I'm Jorilca. What's your name, and what brings you to our beautiful planet?" she asks, bright and welcoming. She'd seen that look of surprised wonder on plenty of faces the first time they see the Twins come up in a double sunrise. It's one of the reasons she loves coming to the beach in the mornings.
"Yes, beauty is exactly why I am here," he says softly, turning back to her. In the quickening light, he can see that she has long, red hair, a pale complexion and lovely hazel eyes. By her blush and the spike in her pheromones, he can tell that she thinks his scrutiny and his words are meant to be compliment for her. That's alright, she can believe that; it will only help.
Laughing a bit at her own reaction, Jorilca tells herself that the gorgeous bloke next to her probably didn't mean her when he said that, but geez, that look—so intense and almost longing. Down girl, she thinks to herself.
He's a funny looking one, all edges and harsh angles, but his eyes are the softest grey, like a dove's feathers. She wouldn't mind losing herself in them, but there's no telling what species he is. With all the layers and the metal bits running up the back of his skull and into his close-shorn, blue-black hair, he can't be human, even if his face looks it. He could be a cyborg, not that there's a problem with that; she believes in equal rights, but it could mean that he doesn't have the capacity for feeling that would make the fling she imagines even possible. That doesn't mean she can't be friendly. She's just started her vacation time this morning, and she has three weeks to do whatever she wants. If that's showing around a super-hot alien cyborg… sign her up! That's just her kind of adventure.
"Well, San Helios is known for that. I was just stepping out to see the Twins rise before I went for breakfast. Care to join me? There's a lovely little cafe down the block that makes the best pastries," she suggests with an easy and enticing smile.
She isn't in the least afraid of me, he thinks in wonder. That's different. Usually his Chosen take a little… convincing. But Jorilca is fairly glowing with confidence and genuine welcome. He can't remember the last time he felt anything so pure that wasn't of his own making. In the back of his mind he can almost feel the Maestra raise a disdainful eyebrow.
"Remember why you are here," he hears her voice remind him clearly.
He doesn't need the reminder, but silently and automatically replies, "Yes, Maestra."
He knows exactly what he's doing. He doesn't enjoy his appointed task, no matter how necessary, but he does enjoy when the pieces in the game behave spontaneously. It makes the passing time more interesting, and there has been a great deal of time. His work is important—the most important work in the Universe. That's what the Maestra had told him all those many years ago.
Glancing back at the suns one last time, he smiles his agreement at the invitation. "I would love to, Jorilca. Please, lead the way."
"Great! You'll love it. I didn't catch your name, though. Breakfast with strangers is intriguing, but not nearly as much fun as getting to know a new friend," she teases him lightly as they begin to trek off the sand and back up the street towards the aforementioned cafe.
Surprising himself with a genuine chuckle, he decides this is going to be a very fine time indeed. "New friends… yes, that does sound better. I am Lost."
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Jorilca exclaims as she abruptly comes to a halt, not realising that she was taking up his time with flirting when he probably had people worried sick about him. "Do you have to be somewhere? Maybe I can help you find whatever you're looking for, or your friends," she says, placing a sympathetic hand on his arm. Their breakfast is entirely forgotten in her desire to help him.
So human, he thinks with an inward smile. "No, my dear girl, that is my name, Lost," he tells her, briefly overlaying her hand with his own.
Blinking at him and trying to decide what to say that won't be insulting to his species or sound incredibly stupid, she defaults to non-committal. "Well, uh… that's interesting."
Maybe his name doesn't translate well into Standard. Shrugging to herself, she chooses to accept it without question. "Still up for breakfast then, Lost?" she asks, eyebrow raised in friendly invitation. The relaxed and happy curve back in her smile
"Absolutely. I don't wish to waste one moment of this lovely San Helios day," he tells her jovially, gesturing for her to lead on. Surprising him again with her easy manner, Jorilca slips her arm through his, completely ignoring the ridged flanges of metal that she must be able feel beneath his robe, and gently starts leading him up the hill, nattering on about the soon-to-be inconsequential details she thinks he might find fascinating about the city around them—her home.
She has no idea that his fascination with the planet began and ended the moment he found her. Though he knows San Helios well from a completely different time, and part of him grieves for its loss, Jorilca is now his only focus for the time being. The newly reformed Horde of Travesties will be here soon to devour this, another planet he has lead them to, but in these last few days of grace, he plans on enjoying Jorilca—the Chosen Gateway to their next destination. Just as he had enjoyed the weeks spent with Dory on Jelaxacor Alpha and previously the month on Romalax with Noldo. Jorilca, is already proving to be unusually special. Lost looks forward to seeing how else she will surprise him.
Hello! It's been forever! I can't guarantee that I will be able to publish this in a timely fashion, but I am determined to get back up on the horse after falling off 3 years ago when a computer crash ate the last 3 chapters I had just written and were unrecoverable. That took the wind out of my sails, but I have been missing the writing.
There's been so many kudos lately, it's inspired me to pick this up and continue it. I have the first 4 chapters written and some notes on where I was heading, but I will be rewatching a few episodes so I can remember what my convoluted thoughts were on all this.
Thank you for still reading and enjoying my AU. I will enjoy comments and look forward to sharing my story with you. Cheers!