Disclaimer: All characters belong to Meredith Ann Pierce, and, well so far the plot belongs to her too. The writing is a round robin from a Darkangel message board, and right now is only the work of Twylise, Elizabeth Evans, and myself; Jezebel.
A/N: This story will be separated into sections, and above each section will be the author's name in italics. I hope this doesn't disturb the fluidity of the story too much; I just want to give credit where it's due. This story starts at the beginning of the 2nd book, in Irrylath's POV.
NOTICE: This story is a Round Robin. If anyone would like to contribute to it, please go to: http://pub83.ezboard.com/bdarkangeltrilogytribute. It's under Darkangel fan fiction, then RR. If anybody has some suggestions for a better title, say so in a review, or e-mail me.
Jezebel: What-do-you-mean-she's-gone?!"
Irrylath growled softly into his brother's face, carefully enunciating each
word.
Hadin's face grew pale, he had not seen his older brother this angry before, or
at least in the short time he'd known him.
"Sh-she s-spoke of messengers, and some task to full-fill, she told me to
give you this." Hadin's hands shook slightly as he thrust a shimmering
yellow length of cloth into Irrylath's hands.
Irrylath's heart grew heavy at the sight of it, and thought's sprung, unbidden,
to his mind; of the manner in which he'd treated her through the course of
their marriage. Though he truly loved her, he feared to tell her this, maybe
because of rejection he didn't know. But he did know that he couldn't leave her
to do this alone.
"I have to go after her," He murmured, his hand clenching into a fist
around the sari.
"What was that you said brother?" Hadin inquired cautiously, not
wanting to infuriate him further.
" Nothing, nothing at all. Which way did she go?" He demanded
suddenly, startling his younger brother.
"Um, that way." Hadin replied, pointing in her Aeriels' direction.
"Surely you're not going after her!" He exclaimed.
"Get me a boat! And quickly!" Was Irrylath's only reply, as he strode
away.
Hadin had not been
able to provide any clear answers as to what exactly Aeriel's quest was or
where she might have gone, much to Irrylath's irritation. So when Irrylath
walked away from his brother, he immediately went to Aeriel's room. Perhaps,
Irrylath thought, the answers might be there. Stepping into the room, he
realized that there was another reason he was drawn here; he felt somehow
connected to Aeriel by being among her things. He didn't want to feel this way;
he wasn't free to love anyone while the White Witch lived. Pushing this new and
uncomfortable feeling aside, he focused on the task of finding Aeriel. Saying a
prayer to the Ancient Ones that there would be something in this room to guide
him, Irrylath began his search. He then noticed a piece of paper on her writing
table and quickly moved to investigate, thinking that Aeriel may have left him
a note or perhaps some clue as to where she was going and what she had to do
there. Picking up the paper, he read:
But first there must assemble
ones the icari would claim
A bride in the temple
must enter the flame,
With steeds found for six brothers, beyond
a dust deep-sea,
And new arrows reckoned, a wand
given wings—
That when a princess royal is
to have tasted of the tree,
Then far from Esternesse's
city, these things:
A gathering of gargoyles,
A feasting on the stone,
The witch of westernesse's
hag overthrown.
It
was a strange rhyme, written in Aeriel's graceful writing. What could it mean?
Irrylath somehow knew beyond a doubt that if he could interpret the rhyme, he
would find Aeriel. But who could tell him its meaning...? Still holding
Aeriel's wedding sari and the rhyme, Irrylath left the room in search of new
answers and to check on Hadin's progress in preparing a boat for him.
"So to make the vessel
turn to the right you should push the rudder to the left and if you wish to
turn leftwards you must pull the rudder the right. Understand so far?"
Hadin asked Irrylath as he demonstrated how to steer.
Irrylath's
only response was an impatient nod. He didn't have time for this. He should be
out there, looking for Aeriel at this very moment. But no... Hadin had insisted
on giving him this lesson on the basics of sailing before letting him go
claiming, "But brother you will surely capsize or loose your way if you do
not learn how to sail first."
He
almost wished he was the Darkangel again, that way he could just fly onward
with his wings of pure night and catch Aeriel himself...Unbidden an image
flashed in the young man's mind of him doing just that; swooping down to pull
the fleeing girl into his arms, turning her around as to face him. He would
look into her wide, fear-filled, emerald eyes for a moment and lean forward, as
if to kiss her... before sinking his fangs into her slender neck and draining
her life away.
Irrylath
shuddered. That image had haunted his dreams these last few day months almost
as much as the Witch's callings. And the worst part was how terribly *real*
they felt. Once he had woken from one of them so shaken up that he had had to
creep into the outer chambers where Aeriel slept to make sure that she was
unharmed.
Seeing
her lying there so serene and lovely, with her pale hair fanning out around her
and her arms pillowed underneath her head had soothed his soul for just a
moment. But only just. On a closer inspection of his slumbering wife (he really
couldn't help himself) he noticed that pale double crescent of scar tissue near
the base of her neck. Teeth marks. More importantly *his* teeth marks. It
reminded him of how very capable he was of hurting her. Just another reason to
keep his distance.
"Irrylath?" Hadin
ventured as he noticed his brother's attention slipping away from him. He waved
a hand in front of the dark-haired, prince's face, "Are you with me?"
Irrylath
blinked a few times before turning back to Hadin, "Yes. I
understand," he said impatiently. "Can I go now?" He moved
towards the front of the boat and started to untie it from the dock before
Hadin had even opened his mouth to speak. Syllva's youngest quickly took the
hint and leapt out of the vessel unto the rough, wooden dock.
"Farewell brother!" Hadin called out. A steady wind was blowing that
made his yellow hair ripple out behind him. "May the luck of he Ancients
smile down upon you!"
Thank
you Hadin, I'm going to need it. Irrylath thought to himself as he sailed away
from the shore of his mother's homeland and the safe haven it provided. But how
much luck could be provided by a half-forgotten race that many believed to be
extinct?
Jezebel: Irrylath wiped beads of sweat from his brow as he took another swig of water from his canteen. He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to raise the container to his cracked lips again in order to quench the overpowering thirst constricting his throat. Having depleted the remainder of his food supply earlier that day, his sole nourishment was the precious amount of water his mother had pleaded him to take with. He hadn't expected this journey to take so long; he had hoped to overtake Aeriel's vessel in a matter of days. Unfortunately, he was not the sailor his brother was, or apparently Aeriel also for that matter.
Doubt had begun to cloud his thoughts as Solstar climbed gradually to its zenith, stretching each passing hour into an eternity as his eyes continually scanned the horizon for a female form, a flash of pale gold. He wondered if he was even going in the right direction for if he was he surely should've seen a sign of her by now, or if he did reach her, would she even want to lay eyes on him after the treatment he bestowed upon her? But the idea that prevented him from losing his determination was that Aeriel might already be in some peril. Who knows what the White witch could've done in the course of time Aeriel had been alone, traversing the same heaving, dry sea as he. Upon his thoughts once more returning to that notion, Irrylath squared his shoulders, pushed damp tendrils of dark hair impatiently back from his face, and continued to man the craft as it bobbed on the rolling crests of harsh radiance. Elizabeth Evans:
After what seemed like an
eternity, Irrylath spotted the glow of a light up ahead. It seemed to be coming
from a lighthouse. Strange, Irrylath mused, I thought that the flames had died
out ages ago. Just then, a line from Ravenna's rhyme, the new part that Aeriel
had written down before she left, flashed into his mind. "A bride in the
temple must enter the flame..." Aeriel! Irrylath sprinted the length of
the ship to find his brother.
"Speed up!" He demanded curtly. "Aeriel landed her boat ashore
over there," He indicated the approaching land, just a short distance away
now. He could now make out her boat, there on the shore. Was she still there?
His heart beat faster at the idea. He longed to see her again and tell her he
was sorry for the way he had been treating her. He wanted to help her on this
quest if he could.
But once they came ashore, there was no sign of Aeriel. The lighthouse keeper
confirmed that she had been here some time ago but had gone on her way. He had
no idea, though, which way she might have gone. Irrylath cursed in frustration.
To come so close and yet still miss her...Where would she be? He retreated to a
relatively secluded spot on a rock overlooking the dust deep-sea and reread
Ravenna's rhyme for a clue about where Aeriel might go next. Where would she go
to find steeds for himself and his brothers? He was definitely going to need
help to unravel this one. The sibyl...
Twylise:
As Irrylath sat on his
rock, musing on what route he should take to see the Sybil and gazing emptily
at the vast ocean he had just crossed. At least now, unlike before he had some
idea of where he should be going. Everyone knew that the Sybil sat on a high mountain
in Terrain, where the seer settled disputes, accepted sacrifices to the
ancients, solved riddles, gave fortune readings and even offered blessings to
the sick and unlucky.
But the journey was a long and arduous one; Irrylath would have to cross
through several different lands and without a map or any pre-knowledge of the
areas he would go through.... The White Witch would have plenty of time to get
her icy talons around *his* Aeriel before he would get within one mile of her.
The Prince grimaced. If only there was a way that he could discover his wife's
whereabouts and intentions. He could simply catch up to her, (surely she
wouldn't be able to travel that fast?) and skip over this whole business with
the Sybil. But it didn't look like he would be finding any clues as to
Aeriel's---
"I can help you," Came a hiss from just above and behind his left
shoulder.
In an instant Irrylath spun around, the Blade Adamantine already flashing in
his tightly clenched fist. He lashed out at the speaker with the short sword.
But his strike met with empty air as the giant, serpentine head and long neck
twirled out of range. Subsequently, Irrylath over-balanced and toppled off his
rock, a rush of dust washing over him, enfolding him in it's suffocating
grains. He thrashed and kicked, violently fighting the waves that rose over him
but when he opened his mouth to scream he only took in the dust that surged
into his airway. As his vision began to blur and his ears to ring, Irrylath
reflected that drowning, was a rather stupid way for someone who had been
raised by a water demon to die.
***
The sun was shinning onto his eyes in a rather irritating way. Irrylath groaned
and turned over, desperate to escape from that probing source of light. This
wasn't an very wise idea as the side that the Prince had just rolled onto ached
and throbbed in protest and he barely managed to contain a gasp of pain as he
turned to lie on his back again.
"Finally. You've awakened," A pair of crystal blue eyes, golden
unscarred cheeks and ebony hair filled his vision. Irrylath could only find him
starring up into that painfully familiar face with wonderment.
Am I dead? Irrylath mused. What else can this mean...To be seeing
myself, like this...How I might have grown to been if the Witch hadn't taken
me. I surely must have passed into the other life.
His mirror image frowned, "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"
A long elegant hand reached down to press down on his forward.
It was only after the figure had moved closer to him and had spoken again that
Irrylath realized to his embarrassment that the figure was a female. He
gathered his senses and nodded curtly.
The woman smirked down at him, "That's good to know. The waves of the mare
managed to give you a good beating before you were brought ashore,"
"There was a dragon...." Irrylath murmured. His mother kept dragons;
it must have been one of her servants. He was so stupid! Now the Lorelei would
know that both he and Aeriel were in Westernese...
As if sensing his train of thought the woman spoke again, "That was just
Marelon, the guardian of the Sea of Dust. She said she was only trying to give
you some advice when you swung out at her with your blade. It was she who
brought you to me. Apparently the one you seek is currently in Bern, traveling
up to Terrain to seek an audience with some priestess or other. "
She looked at him curiously from the corner of one cobalt eye. "Serpents
and Seers...You certainly keep fascinating company my good fellow,"
"I can only assume I can say the same of you m'lady, considering you also
just conversed with a serpent as well as taking on a charge like myself."
Irrylath and answered back as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. This
is wonderful. I can continue on to the Sybil as planned and hopefully
reach Aeriel before I arrive at my final destination. He turned his
thoughts back to the figure before him and continued speaking, "But unfortunately
I can't as I haven't the slightest clue as to whom you are."
The woman straightened up from her previous pose from where she had been
leaning over Irrylath and placed her hands on her hips. ""Why can't
you tell just by glancing at me? Haven't you noticed the family
resemblance?" She grinned down at the bed-ridden man ferally, "I'm
Sabr; The Bandit Queen. It's good to finally meet you my lord and cousin!"
"C-Cousin?"
Irylath sputtered in a most amusing way, nearly falling back down on the cot in
his astonishment. He quickly tried to stitch back together his shredded
composure while gingerly swinging his legs down to the cold stone floor.
"Y-Yes, I'm beginning to remember some brief mentioning of a very. . .
interesting cousin." Make that barbaric, uncouth, and unnervingly
masculine, as his mother had so eloquently illustrated his distant cousin (geographically,
not genetically). He himself thought her rather exciting and adventurous, much
like him.
Sabr frowned at Irrylath doubtfully. " I don't think it would be very wise
of you to try to walk yet, you were unwell for quite some time." Irrylath
didn't heed her warning, preferring to take the chance. Unfortunately Sabr's
forewarning had been justly said, for no sooner had he lifted himself courageously
up on his feet, had he begun to teeter like a frail tree in a windstorm, and
collapse into Sabr's arms. She's strong. He thought as she supported his
weight with no signs of exertion, and guided him back to a sitting position in
the bed. Irrylath had no trouble noticing the slight blush that had colored her
pale cheeks as she was pressed up against him, but he chose to not comment on
it.
Sabr
straightened again to stand above him in a dominating manner and regard him in
a frank manner. He nearly frowned at this, he was not used to being subjugated.
Nearly, but he decided it would be best not to show his displeasure, in his
hostess' presence.
"Who is this one you seek?" She demanded, cocking her head to one
side, letting some ebony-colored hair fall over her shoulder.
Irrylath
cleared his throat before speaking. " She is called Aerial. Perhaps some
of your people saw her as she passed through, and could tell me how she was
faring. Her hair is pale, sun-colored, and her eyes a most unusual verdant
green." He supplied the information hopefully, eager to have more news of
his wife.
Sabr's nostrils flared slightly as she sensed his affection jealously.
"Ahh, yes. The sorceress. There are some tales of a recent incident.
However, I do not know the details, but I may be able to find some who
can."
" I would be most grateful." He replied thankfully.
She studied him for a moment more, unsure of whether or not she wanted to know
the answer to the question she was about to ask.
" Of what relation is this woman to you?" She asked, pressing her
lips together as she shifted her balance to her other foot.
" She...she's my wife." He replied quietly, glancing away from her
burning gaze.
"Very well, I'll see what information I can provide you with. In the
meantime, try to get some more rest." She stated curtly as she turned on
her heel and stalked out of the room. Irrylath sighed as he lay back down on
the bed. So much for trying to not upset his hostess.
A/N: That's all for now, folks. Hehe, that took a lot less time than I thought it would; once I discovered the joys of copying and pasting. It's funny how the entries that the spell-check didn't like the most were mine.