Disclaimer: I don't Highlander (or Stargate when I get to it)
Rating: Starts off K+, but some chapters are M.
Beta Reader: Evenmoor
Reviewers: Nedy Rahn – thank you and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Author's Note Update (2014): I went through the story after it was removed and made some changers, the fact it has fewer chapters is one, but don't worry it's all here. I hope if you've already read this story, you enjoy it again and again. For those of you who are reading it for a first time I hope you like it.
AAD
Extracts from the Nyssa Chronicles – Translated by Dr Daniel Jackson
1023 BC
– I am 5 years old and now capable of continuing this journal. Methos has been teaching me to read and write since I was two. Doing this without our brother's knowledge, for they would not understand his reasoning. Chava says I am gifted. She encourages me and I enjoy my lessons.
Methos has started training me to flight with the sword Silas has made me. We do this away from the Horseman camp. I learnt early on why. To other's Methos is Death, a cold-hearted killer. I do not see him as such; Methos has always been loving and caring. I know he is a killer, I have seen him kill. I know his heart too. I know the anger he carries within him. I know why.
Chava was been killed defending me from raiders. Methos carried her away from our camp. She begged him too, I heard her. He returned to camp alone and we mourn her loss privately. Chava was like a mother to me and I will miss her. Methos says as long as I remember her, she will be with me forever.
[Side Note: It will be revealed later in this journal, that Chava ascended and was still keeping an eye on Nyssa. Chava was actually an Ascend being by the name of Oma Desala – Dr Jackson]
AAD
Chapter 2: Blessed by the Gods
Bronze Age – 1021 BC:
Methos laughed as he fell backwards, the little body pinning him down with all her might. "You have me, little one."
Nyssa grinned. "More?"
"Maybe later, Nyssa," he said and ruffled her hair. "We need to get back to camp."
She grinned and got up; picking up her little sword that Silas has made her, she put it in the sheath strapped to her back. When he stood, she hugged his leg, her head only coming to his thigh. She was small for her age, having reached her seventh year. "Thank you, Methos."
"You're welcome, little one," he smiled affectionately. He picked her up and sat her on his shoulders, holding onto her legs after he'd sheathed his sword. "Ready?"
"Yes," she said with a grin and they started back to camp. "Methos?"
"Yes, Nyssa?"
She crossed her arms on his head and rested her head against them. "Can I put dye my face like yours?"
"Do you not want your own identity, little one?" he asked her.
"I do, I am Nyssa," she told him sincerely, with a gravity belying her seven years.
He chuckled. "Very well then."
"Thank you, Methos," she said happily.
He smiled, knowing she would be smiling, too.
Closer to camp, he put her down and let her walk beside him, his demeanour changing greatly. "Your brothers and I are riding out tomorrow. You will have to stay in camp, no wandering off."
"Can't I come too, Methos?" she asked, sobering a little. Their playtime was over, a lesson she'd learnt very early on for her own safety and his.
"Not this time," he insisted bluntly.
Silas met them at the edge of camp. "Brother. Little sister," he greeted, grinning.
"Silas," Methos acknowledged.
Nyssa smiled, she liked Silas; he made her laugh. "Silas, your tricked worked, I brought Methos down."
"See, little Wildcat, told you it would," he said cheerfully.
Methos snorted. "You're teaching her bad habits, Silas," he retorted.
"Don't be such a sore loser, brother," the larger Immortal jeered.
Nyssa giggled, smoothing it as both men looked at her. She swallowed hard, prepared to accept their chastisement of her outburst. It didn't come; instead, they both laughed with her.
Methos ruffled her hair as they parted with Silas and continued into camp. Once in their own tent, Methos removed his sword, placing it within reach. He then took Nyssa's and did the same thing, then sat her down. Getting a bowl of blue dye one of the slaves had made up, he hunkered in front of her. "Now, little one, sit still," he told her. Taking a brush made from horsehair, he dipped it into the dye. "Close your eyes." When she had done so, he brushed the blue dye onto the right side of her face, the opposite of his own. Putting the bowl down, he blew lightly on her face, then smiled. "All done, wildcat. Don't touch it, though."
"Can I see, Methos?" she asked eagerly.
"Very well." He stood and put the dye away. After that, he poured water into a bowl and opened the flap of the tent a little so light shown on the water. "Come look."
Nyssa got to her feet and rushed over, looking at her reflection in the water. She looked up at Methos proudly. "Now I am like you."
They heard the thundering of hooves and hurried out. Kronos and Caspian were back, bringing with them a midnight black colt. Unbroken, the horse wanting nothing more than its freedom. Dismounting, the two Horsemen kept a tight hold on the beast.
Nyssa stared in amazement and then ran over to them.
"Nyssa!" Methos yelled in warning and run after her. "Damn," he cursed under his breath.
Kronos grinned as their little sister approached, approving of her new appearance. "What do you think Nyssa? Is he not spirited?"
She skidded to a stop. "He is."
Methos stopped beside her, looking the colt over. "He's young, good breeding."
The colt reared, nostrils flaring, stamping wildly at the ground.
Nyssa slowly moved forward. Methos went to make a grab for her, but Kronos held him back.
"Leave her, brother. She must learn," he insisted smugly.
Holding his breath, Methos nodded and watched, waiting.
Slowly Nyssa stood next to the colt and held out her hand for him to sniff. She whispered to him in the old Egyptian dialect that Methos had taught her, soothing the wild horse. The action was mystical. It was as if the world around them didn't exist anymore as the two bonded on a level those watching wouldn't understand. She smiled as she moved closer, still whispering. The colt lowered its head and she gently stroked his nose.
"What is she saying, brother?" Silas asked Methos, having also come to see what the commotion was.
"She telling the horse he's safe," he answered and noticed the slaves around them murmuring in fear of Nyssa's actions.
'Demon child' was repeatedly whispered, as was 'Spirit child'. Nyssa had done more than just miraculously tame a wild horse. She'd caused the slaves to fear her even more than before. She was the sister of the Four Horseman; now it looked as if she was bewitched.
Nyssa rubbed the colt's neck and he playfully nudged her, making her smile again. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Kronos, can I sit on him? He will let me."
"Of course, little one," he agreed. He didn't understand what had occurred, it didn't put the fear into his heart as it did the slaves. Handing Methos the rope, he lifted Nyssa up on the colt's back, and then stepped back.
The colt snorted at him, making Nyssa grin, mimicking his smugness. "He doesn't like you, brother, but I will teach him." She rubbed the horse's neck, then leaned forward and hugged the animal. As his mane tickled her nose, she turned her head. "Can I have him, Kronos, Caspian?"
Kronos grinned, throwing a look to Methos, who sighed. "What do you say brothers, should we give the beast to our little sister?"
"He's your bounty, brother," Methos noted dryly. "Though I doubt any other would be able to ride him."
Caspian agreed. "He is hers."
"He is," Silas added.
"Very well, then," Kronos said, grinning. The ropes were removed and a colt snorted at the slave as the bridle was put on. When Nyssa sat up, he handed the reins to her. "He is yours, little one. He has fire in his heart. What will you call him?"
She thought a moment. "Rameses," she said and the colt snorted and nodded. She patted his neck.
Kronos glared at Methos, stalking past him, he hissed. "You teach her too much."
Methos arched an eyebrow and went over to Nyssa and the colt, stroking the animal's neck. "He's a fine stallion, little one."
"Can we ride, Methos?" she asked.
"Very well, he must be saddled first," he informed and lifted her down. "Run and get our swords, though we will not be going far."
She nodded and rushed back to their tent, sheathing her own sword, she carefully carried Methos' back to him. She returned to find Methos had saddled Rameses, a slave having saddled Methos' and Silas' horses.
Methos took his sword and sheathed it, then lifted Nyssa onto her horse. Then mounted his, beside him, Silas mounted his horse and the three of them road out of camp.
Caspian watched with Kronos. "He's growing soft."
"Hold your tongue," Kronos snapped. "We never talk ill of our brother."
"She should have been killed and beheaded long ago, brother," Caspian snarled.
Kronos smiled slyly. "Oh, she will be killed, brother, when the time is right. Then we will mould her into a killer. They think the Four Horseman are monsters, they have not meet the Archangel as of yet. But they will.
Caspian grinned maliciously. He could wait. Then all mortals would cower before them.
AAD
Caspian loathed being restless, but that, it seemed, was about to end. Not many dared to raid the Horsemen camp; they moved from place to place, never staying too long in one spot. However, there were foolish raiders who thought attacking the Four Horsemen would bring them glory. There were even raiders who thought taking the sister of the Four Horsemen would bring them wealth. It didn't. Attempts on Nyssa's life brought death to them and their families and a grin to Caspian's face.
Methos pointed to the map he'd drawn on papyrus. "Here, we cross the river and make our approach. They will not see us until it is too late."
Kronos grinned, approving of the strategy. "Well done, brother."
"This is the challenge we have waited for," Caspian stated.
"It will be, brother," Methos assured and rolled the map.
"Then we leave at sunrise," Kronos told them. He looked to his brother, his second. "Make sure our sister knows to not wander from camp."
Methos nodded. "She will do as she is told."
"Good."
"She needs a new blanket. I'll her find her one on this raid," Silas announced cheerfully.
Smiling, Methos slapped him on the back. "She will like that, brother."
They heard a scream, a little girl's scream. Rushing out of the tent, they saw Nyssa struggling in the arms of a raider, with three more shadowing them, weapons drawn.
She bit the raider's hand when he covered her mouth, making him remove it, tasting his blood.
"You bitch!" He grabbed a dagger from his belt and stabbed her with it in the thigh, making her scream. "Bite me again and it goes into your throat!" he hissed, leaving the dagger protruding from her leg. He kept a tight hold her; she was their way out.
Nyssa whimpered as tears slid down her cheeks, the pain had become a burning. She would keep quiet though, no matter how bad the burning became. Her gaze locked on Methos, waiting for him. He would save her.
The Four Horsemen had their weapons drawn. Death reflected in their eyes, the raiders' deaths.
"Release our sister," Kronos ordered.
"Do you think me stupid?!" the raider retorted.
"You hold our sister. You are not stupid, you're dead!" Caspian snarled, grinning bloodthirstily.
Methos kept his gaze locked Nyssa, knowing she was focusing on him. This was not the first attempt on her life. The first had seen Chava killed defending the girl. Movements of his fingers gave her instructions, signals only she and the Horsemen knew.
"Brother!" Silas hissed, ready for action.
"She's ready," Methos informed them.
"Your time is at an end, raider," Kronos announced with a sadistic smile. "You should not have tried to take our sister."
Seeing Methos nod, Nyssa bit her lip and pulled the dagger from her own leg, stabbing her kidnapper with it in the side. He growled and threw her away from him. She screamed as she hit the ground. One of Kronos's slaves rushed forward and scooped the child up out of harm's way as the Horsemen rushed the raiders. By the time the healer was called from her tent, the raiders were dead, their blood spilt on the sand. She rushed into the Horseman's tent, Methos following her. Leaving his brothers to do what they wished with the bodies.
The healer looked at the leg, ripping the clothing from the wound, getting what she needed prepared.
"Methos!" Nyssa called his name.
He sat with her. "I am here, little one."
"Hurts," she cried.
"It will, little one," he said taking her hand. "You must be brave."
She nodded, the pain evident in her eyes. Despite this, she barely made a noise as the healer cleaned and bandaged the wound firmly, her hand gripping his tightly. Methos felt pride welling up in him for her endurance and bravery.
The healer mixed a concoction of herbs and water in a cup and held it to the child, who was already sweating with fever. "Drink."
"What is it?" Methos demanded.
"It will ease pain. Make her sleep. Fight the fever in her body and leg," the old woman croaked. "Dagger was poisoned. This will fight it."
Methos took the cup. "Drink it, little one." He held it to her lips as she raised her head and drank, grimacing at the foul tasting liquid. "All, little one," he urged gently and held it until she did. He then thrust the cup into the healer's hands and laid Nyssa back on the furs. "Rest."
"Don't leave," she pleaded, her eyes already closing as she drifted off to sleep.
He knew he couldn't stay. While she was asleep, she would not know if he left and he was determined to get his revenge for this.
"Go, Horseman. I will remain," the healer told him. "She is strong, she will recover. The gods favour her as they favour you."
Methos glared at her. "They better witch, for if she dies, your life will end."
"It is not her time," the healer said calmly, gathering her belongings. "Go, I will not leave."
Methos nodded brusquely. He stormed from the tent abruptly and pulled on his death mask. "Brothers!"
Kronos knew from the tone of Methos' voice, his brother wanted death. Death he would get. "I recognized them. Their camp is half a day's ride."
"Then we ride," Methos snarled as he mounted his horse.
"We ride," Kronos agreed, and did the same, pulling his mask over his face.
Caspian and Silas followed their example, mounting.
"Now we will have how revenge," Caspian jeered, "For our sister."
"For our sister," Silas echoed and they rode off in a thunder of hooves.
The healer stayed with the child as she had said she would. She had been with the Horsemen for a long time, caring for slaves. Never the Horsemen themselves; their injuries healed like magic. She wondered what was so special about this child that they protected her so. She'd been such a tiny babe and was tiny now for her age. Those in the camp like her were loyal to the Horsemen; they never called Nyssa a 'demon' or 'spirit child'. She was a healer; she knew the child was a child.
She turned when she felt the hand on her shoulder, shocked by who she saw. "Bless the gods," she exclaimed at the glowing white haloed woman she knew had died.
'It's alright, Isa,' the woman reassured her calmly.
"Chava, but you died!" the healer exclaimed, stunned by her appearance, her usual clothing stark white.
'I did,' Chava smiled kindly. 'When the mind is enlightened, the spirit is free, and the body matters not. I am called Oma Desala. I was sent to look after Nyssa for a short time.' Oma knelt down next to where the little girl lay.
"Are you a spirit?" Isa inquired, stilled shocked by the sudden entrance of a woman long-dead.
Oma smiled. 'In a way, yes.' She placed her hand over the bound wound and a soft glow appeared and then dissipated. 'The wound is healed.' She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the little girl's head, then stood.
"How did you...?" Isa quickly bowed down. "You are a great spirit."
'Isa, stand,' Oma insisted and helped her up. 'Please listen to me, it is important. Nyssa is a very special child; she is no demon or spirit.'
"She is unusual," Isa pointed out.
Oma smiled. 'Yes, but not in a bad way,' she assured. 'No matter what she does, her heart will always be good. As will Methos. His darkness is fading, even now. His heart is good.'
"A demon that one is, all four," the healer exclaimed.
'No, Isa. He is no demon, nor are his brothers,' the ascended being assured her. 'Methos and Nyssa are destined to be together; she is his soul mate. In time they will realize this.'
"She is but a child," Isa said, shocked.
Oma smiled again, amusement in her brown eyes. 'She will not always be a child, Isa. She will grow into a beautiful woman, who will capture young men's hearts and outlive them all. For her heart will always be with Methos.'
Now Isa understood. "She is like the Horsemen?"
'In time, yes,' Oma agreed. 'I must go. Advise and guide Nyssa with your wisdom, Isa.'
Isa stood stunned as Oma stepped back and became nothing more than white light, rising up to the ceiling of the tent and disappearing through it. She dropped to her knees. "Praise the gods."
Nyssa stirred and woke. The pain in her leg was gone. "Isa?"
"Here child," the healer composed herself, moving closer.
"You healed me?" the little girl stated. "My leg feels strong."
With shaky hands, Isa unbound the leg; there was not even a scar. "Bless the gods."
Nyssa sat up, looking herself, "How?"
Isa smiled. "Blessed you are," she insisted. She helped the child to bathe and dress, leaving the tent with her.
"Where is Methos?" Nyssa inquired.
"Horsemen went for revenge," the healer informed her. "A sun fall ago."
Nyssa had expected as much. She turned from the healer when a call shouted that the Horsemen were returning. She took off running, dashing through the camp, Isa rushing after her, unable to keep up.
Nyssa ran from the camp towards her brothers. They reined their horses and waited for her. "I am healed," she said with a grin.
"You are at that, Wildcat," Kronos said with a smile. He glanced at Methos, neither had sensed her as Immortal. Something else had occurred, she was still mortal. He reached down, she took his hand, and he lifted her onto his horse, sitting in front of him.
"Did you ride far?" she asked.
"We did," he urged his horse forward, holding onto her. His brothers followed close by. "Be assured, little one, word will pass that it is not wise to hurt our sister."
She smiled and looked over to Methos, he gave her a smile and bowed his head, and she grinned.
Silas moved his horse closer and ruffled her hair, then rode ahead. Caspian playfully tapped her nose, making her laugh before he did the same.
"Little one," Methos got her attention. "Did Isa heal your leg?"
She shrugged. "I think so. Said I was blessed by the gods," she answered.
Methos frowned; he urged his horse on and headed for camp at a gallop.
"Is something wrong, Kronos?" Nyssa asked, apprehensive.
"No, little one, Methos is just concerned," he assured her and they continued at a more leisurely pace.
Methos reined his horse up and dismounted. Leaving the beast with the slaves, he stormed over to the healer. Grabbing her by the arm he dragged her into her tent and demanded. "Tell me what happened, woman!"
Isa grimaced a little, but told him all that had happened, leaving nothing out. He stared at her, his face unreadable, as she said, "Told her, she was blessed."
He nodded. "Blessed she is. Speak of this to no one," he warned and left the tent. When Chava had been dying, she had begged him to carry her away from the camp so that Nyssa would not see her die. He'd done so, holding her in his arms as she'd taken her last breath. Then it had happened. Her body had begun to glow a bright white and then she vanished, leaving only her clothing. Stunned, he'd risen, only to find her standing before him, all in white, surrounded by a soft glow. She'd smiled, brushed her hand against his cheek, and then vanished. Somehow, he'd known she'd be watching and she had.
Seeing Kronos ride into camp with Nyssa, the little girl laughing at some tale her brother was telling her. Methos silently thanked Chava or Oma for healing his little one.
'You're welcome, Methos,' her voice whispered on the wind.
He smiled and headed over to Kronos and Nyssa.
AAD
Extracts from the Nyssa Chronicles – Translated by Dr Daniel Jackson
1021 BC
– Methos and I have been training again, I asked Silas to show me a trick to bring Methos down. He does and despite what he tells Silas, Methos is proud of me. At camp, he uses dye and paints half my face blue. The opposite of his, I asked him to do this.
Kronos and Caspian capture a black colt and brought it back to our camp, I rushed to see it. The slaves call me demon and spirit child when I calm the animal just by touching it. Kronos gives him to me and I name the colt Rameses. Our brother accuses Methos of teaching me too much; I don't care. Methos has taught me more, than Kronos will ever know, including how to write in hieroglyphics.
Raiders try to kidnap me. One stabbed me in the leg and threw me to the ground. The Raiders were killed for this. Methos and my brother's seek revenge on their families for their crime.
The knife was laced with poison. While I lay unconscious fighting the fever and poison, the camp's healer – Isa believes she saw the spirit of Chava. She talked with Isa before she healed my wound and then vanished. I recover and rush to welcome my brother's back. Kronos lets me ride with him on his horse. Methos is worried though. He talks with Isa. My brothers do not let me out of their sight for some time. (I am 7 years old)
To be continued in – Chapter 3: Playing with Fire