A/N: This is an odd idea I've had ever since I finished Pilgrims of Rayne. Nevva seemed too comfortable being Telleo...and this is my imagined back story. In case the chronology of the story is confusing, the first part of the story is set a short time before Bobby arrives on Rayne. The second part is from Nevva's childhood, and the third is set sometime during one of Nevva's long absences during The Quillian Games.
Nevva and Telleo
Nevva Winter stands poised above a young woman, fast asleep and dreaming. The sleeper is about 16, with tan skin, reddish hair, and…Nevva carefully opens one of the woman's eyes. They are green. Nevva cringes at this, and pulls her hand away. Green eyes? The eyes were supposed to be blue: a light, airy blue.
No matter. This isn't me. I can remake her any way I wish. Over time, Genj won't notice if her eyes turn out more blue than green. Or he'll chalk it up to a genetic quirk, or something. But it's time for this doppelganger to be gone.
Nevva reaches in her pocket, and pulls out a small case. In the case is a needle. Nevva takes out the needle, and holds it above the woman's forearm in a rare moment of silent internal struggle.
This is not me. This is not me. This is some spirit from Rayne that I'm sending to Solara. It won't even hurt. I'll make it up to her once she gets there. If I can stand to look at her. (If I get back there, ever.)
But she looks like...never mind that.
Nevva jabs the needle into the girl's arm, and slowly releases the formula inside. Within thirty seconds, the girl's breath stops. Her body is dead. Nevva now has the unpleasant task of disposing of it. The girl's body isn't heavy, but on this territory, they haven't come up with deodorant yet. The body smells. Never mind, never mind, just think of what is waiting for me when I get back to the hut. She smiles, then grins, unable to keep it contained. Just think.
She gives the body a decent burial, if hurried. She streaks through the jungle back to the hut afterward, her fingertips already bleeding away at the edges as she fights down the desire to change right there and then. No, gotta wait, wait until I'm under her covers, make sure no one sees me. She has an odd moment of thinking: this isn't like me. I never get excited. But, that was the whole point, wasn't it? That person, Nevva, never got excited. But that wasn't her, was it? Now, she could go back to being herself. Allowed to feel excited, happy, sad, scared, whatever she wished, after so long.
Finally, she makes it back to the hut, and sneaks inside. Poking around, she finds where the girl keeps her clothes, and puts on something that looks like pajamas. Nodding in satisfaction, and with a small shiver of excitement, she gets in bed, pulling the covers over her head. The sheets have a certain smell over top of the sweat, something vaguely citrus-y: probably what the girl used for perfume. She smiles. It's just as she imagined.
She takes a breath—and begins to change.
Her body dissolves into grey smoke, shedding the hideous form that she's been constrained in for so long. Slowly, it takes form again, becoming smaller, tanner, with long red hair and a pleasing face. For a minute, her face is unformed as she debates about the eyes. Green? Or her blue? She gives in eventually, and makes them blue; reluctantly promising herself that she'll make them green in the morning. But for now, let her enjoy the blue.
She pops out of bed, and runs over to the mirror in the corner. Closing her eyes, she positions herself in front of it, wanting to savor this moment as much as possible. Slowly she opens her eyes, and gasps in delight. It's real. It's exactly as she imagined, exactly as she hoped. No more being trapped in that cold, efficient, lifeless body and persona. She could now, finally, be herself. Her real self. If only for a little while.
"I am Telleo. Telleo Genj," she whispers to herself, liking the way her voice sounds, enjoying how her mouth forms the words. It wasn't a bad name. She'd never had a name for herself, but now she figured Telleo wasn't the worst name one could pick.
Telleo. She couldn't wait to start tomorrow.
"El, honey, tell me what's going on. Really, you haven't been yourself all evening."
Elli looks at her husband, sitting in his normal place across from her, folding his newspaper. It's a rare treat for him to have even an inexpensive pleasure like a current newspaper. Almost all of their money is poured into Nevva's schooling.
"I'm worried about Nevva."
He frowns. "Worried about her? Honey, she's the last kid I'd worry about. She's smarter than most adults."
"That might not be a good thing," she says, warming up to her topic. "Aren't some child prodigies susceptible to...ah, mental disturbances?"
His frown deepens. "Are you nicely saying 'going crazy'?"
Elli sighs. "Maybe. I don't know."
"No. And Nevva's a perfectly sane child."
"I think so too. Mostly. But little things happen, and they scare me."
"Such as? I'm sorry I don't know. We both know I have to work."
She smiles sadly. "We were on the phone today with your Aunt Kay."
"On the phone? Elli…"
"Only for a few minutes. It wasn't too expensive. I saved for this. It makes her so happy, your aunt Kay. Just to talk to Nevva."
"Continue."
"Anyway, Aunt Kay, she was looking at a photo of Nevva, remember the one we gave her last year? And she asked if Nevva still had the same beautiful dark hair. On the phone, Nevva just smiled and said yes. But afterwards…"
"Yes?"
"Afterwards, Nevva asked me what she meant by 'dark hair.' I thought she was kidding, and teased her about fishing for a compliment. But she looked back at me in all seriousness and said her hair was red, and always had been. I said no. She got really upset afterwards. I tried to calm her down, wondering where this was coming from, but she just screamed at me that I was blind, and ran to her room. I didn't go after her, thinking she needed time to calm down. After an hour, she came out, and was fine, and apologized for screaming. And that was it."
"Maybe she's just playing pretend."
"I think she's too old for that, dear."
"Maybe. I'll agree, that's odd. But it doesn't mean she's crazy. She may just want red hair. It's probably just a phase."
"Nevva isn't one for phases. And, her eyes too. We were looking at the sky a while ago, and I mentioned how when I was a little girl, it was blue instead of grey. She got excited, and asked if it was the same color as her eyes."
"Our girl has always had brown eyes."
"Exactly."
"I don't know, Elli. Otherwise, she doesn't act crazy."
"I know."
"I think we'll just watch her, how about? Keep an eye on her. Make sure nothing happens."
"Okay."
He stands, walks to her, plants a kiss on her forehead. "Good."
And disappears.
She is confused for a moment, before reality crashes down.
Marken died a few days ago, in the tarz.
She hasn't told Nevva yet.
Marken isn't here.
Maybe it isn't Nevva's sanity she should be worrying about.
Nevva was excited. She couldn't remember the last time she really felt excited. Maybe when she met Press Tilton. And, of course, when she met Saint Dane.
Finally, existence has been explained to her. Halla. Solara. What happens when one "dies," where they go, how they still exist. Her father still exists then. It's not an unwelcome piece of news, but she found she didn't much care, either. That wound grew numb a long time ago.
Of course, Press didn't tell her all this. Surprisingly, that made her feel…betrayed. Out of all the travelers, she would think that he would trust her with even a bit of that knowledge. She could handle it. It's counter to the point of the mission but…couldn't he have tried?
It doesn't matter now. Saint Dane's offered up the information willingly. He doesn't want an uninformed partner.
Saint Dane watched her, sitting across from her on a boulder. They were in Solara. His Solara. Which will soon be the Solara, if everything goes according to plan. Which she'll risk her life to make sure of, no doubt.
He watched her process the information he'd just told her. She kept herself very still, not letting him in.
"What are you thinking, Nevva?" he asked, finally.
"I…this is a lot to take in."
"I know."
Something else was nagging at the back of her mind, something she's seen, something that could fulfill a dream, her dream, if he'll let her. He was in charge of the power of this place, after all.
"Your shapeshifting power comes from this place."
He melted into a raven, and flew in a circle, demonstrating. When he landed, he was human once more. The ground shook. "Yes."
She didn't blink. She'd seen this.
"I've allied myself with you. Does my power come from this place?"
He smiled. "Would you like to try it out?"
This was more than she hoped for. She could feel her face coming alive, showing how much she wanted this. "Yes."
He smiled in bemusement at her enthusiasm. "All right. Stand up."
She stood, and couldn't help her legs from quivering.
"Close your eyes. It will make it easier."
She obeyed.
"All it takes is a little imagination, Nevva. That's they key. You have to believe you are what you are becoming. Do something simple first: change your hair color. Believe it is another color."
He had no idea how easy that was. Instantly, her hair was red, and down to her waist. She could feel it. It didn't go with this body, but she didn't mind, for now. Her hair was red. It was right.
She opened her eyes. Saint Dane was surprised. He quickly regained his composure.
"It seems you are a natural."
He had no idea.
"A challenge, then. Become a raven. It's a useful form."
A raven? For a second, she was disappointed. She wanted to become—all in good time. She'd please him, for now.
She took a second longer than she needed, savoring the feeling of finally being a red-head, but eventually, she focused on the raven. She'd never thought about being a raven, but it shouldn't be any harder than imagining any of her other personas, should it?
She dissolved into mist, hanging there for a second, imagining raven. She became a raven. She immediately dropped to the ground, unused to her new wings, but after a hop and a few flaps, she was airborne.
This is fun, she thought. When was the last time I had fun?
She wanted to impress Saint Dane. She did tricks in the air. He applauded. She tried to come in for a landing. Her angle is too steep, she realized, less than 20 feet from the ground. She'd crash.
Once she is at head level, Saint Dane plucked her out of the air, making her gasp. He set her down on the ground, and she began the change back to her default form: Nevva Winter. Once she was changed, she was sprawled on the ground in an awkward position. She struggled to get up, and Saint Dane helped her to her feet.
"Careful," he said casually. "Those landings are difficult."
"I'll practice." She smiled.
"That was a good transformation. Do you feel ready to attempt a full person?"
Oh, did she.
"Yes."
"Good. Go ahead, then."
And before he can blink, there she was. The transformation didn't take any time at all. Maybe that was because Nevva (awful name, she thinks, but I've never found another) wasn't her. This, sitting here on the rocky ground of Saint Dane's Solara, buried in Nevva's clothes (too big for her petite frame), was herself. This was who she meant when she said "I" in her head. This was who she had been since she was a small child, and didn't understand why her mother couldn't see that she had red hair. It was because her mother could only see Nevva, not her. Nevva, the brainiac, Nevva, the planner, Nevva, the dutiful calculator or a daughter that did the family's taxes and studied into the early morning. Her family had no idea that she despised math, despised everything that was associated with the fake personality of Nevva, because they couldn't see her. Or wouldn't.
She slowly got to her feet, trying not to trip on the too-large pants. Saint Dane just looked at her. She knew what she looked like, she didn't need a mirror: tiny, barely 5 feet, very tan, long red hair, and blue eyes. Light, airy blue.
Originally, they had been like her mother's eyes. But she didn't think about that woman anymore. Her eyes are her own.
Saint Dane didn't comment on her new form, not yet. Just watched her flex her fingers, move her limbs in amazement.
This feels so right. I always knew it would.
Saint Dane extended a hand and pinched the fabric of her business jacket. She didn't flinch. The jacket remolded, getting smaller, and turning white. The fabric changed to linen and blended with the trousers. In a few seconds, she was wearing a simple white linen dress that fell to her knees.
It's perfect. She didn't know how he knew, but it's perfect.
She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "Thank you."
He stepped back, examined her. "This form is pleasing to you. Who is it?"
"This is me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Nevva?"
"No. Not Nevva. But me."
He was silent for a long time.
"I see," he said eventually. "And this you, it is still with me?"
"Yes," she said firmly, devotedly. "Wholly."
He smiled. "I would like to be able to offer this to you every day. However, my resources are not unlimited. And we need as much power as possible, you understand."
She sighed. "Yes, I understand."
He came closer to her. "When this is over, Nevva, once we've won, you can be in this form whenever you wish. You can be in any form you wish. Just wait a little longer. Help me. Make our vision of Halla a reality."
"I will."
She will. She was dedicated to this cause. The other Travelers were fools. Not her. She has never been a fool.
Reluctantly, she changed back to her default form. Her clothes change with her.
She couldn't stop tears from coming. This form was almost painful now.
He offered her a handkerchief. Once she wiped her face, it disappeared. He really stared now, his eyes boring into her. She stared back, unashamed.
"Yes," he said softly. "I can see it there. Just below the surface, waiting to come out. I can see you."
She believed him.
A/N: R&R please.