Chapter 3. Of Pigeons, Princes, and dresses oh my.
Vanyel reared, the bells on his tack ringing musically, as the gate closed behind him. He settled again on all four hooves and concentrated on his Chosen. Beside him Jissa did the same before bidding him a brief goodbye and taking off at a brisk trot. He concentrated on trying to find the young man, and felt a wash of worry, concern, and something a kin to fear.
He shook his head, and trotted off through the forest in the direction of his Chosen.
~~~***~~~
Jissa sighed as she shied away from yet another questing hand that had attempted to take hold of her bridle and reins. She had to keep reminding herself she wasn't in Valdemar. It was beyond frustrating, dancing around the hands of people trying to catch the "white horse". She evaded the hands nimbly. The number of people grabbing for her had lessened in the past few hours, but then not many were out now because it was so early in the morning. She wandered the small city, lightly weaving her way through the streets. She'd been following the winding trail of her Chosen for several hours now. She'd tracked the young man to a mansion hours before, but found herself waiting for him to leave the fancy party. She'd wondered for a time if her Chosen was perhaps noble. But about an hour and a half ago she'd realized her Chosen was no longer at the party. She followed his trail then, confused as the man lead her through the higher district and into the sometimes ankle deep filth of what was undeniably a slum. They'd spent only a few moments there before her Chosen took yet another detour and they'd wound up back in the district that belonged to the upper class, just not nearly as wealthy an area as the one they'd started off in.
She was keeping tabs on the man only because of the way her soul called to his, otherwise she would have lost him many times now. Hell, she hadn't even seen the man leave the damned party, and she wasn't sure how he'd evaded her notice this long!
She rounded a corner and found herself looking up at the doors to a small but well kept inn's stable. The place smelled of clean straw and horse. Her Chosen was just inside, and she briefly wondered why the young man had bothered with the hour and a half trek through the entire city. Oh well, she'd ask him after she'd Chosen him. She arched her neck, painfully aware of the muck clinging to her hooves, and calmly walked into the stable.
The first thing she saw was a woman in a Gods awful, baby-blue, ruffled evening gown. The woman's long red hair fell neatly about her shoulders as she hastily scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and deftly rolled the note up. Then, reaching into her, tight, corset the woman removed something that glittered and slipped it into the rolled up paper. She tucked both paper and object into a small pouch at her neck.
Jissa shook her head confused. Her Chosen was male – yet the bond told her that this woman was her Chosen. Confused, she tugged slightly at her shields, bringing them up all the way, and found herself looking at her Chosen in a dress. His hair was messily chopped to his shoulders, and could have belonged to either a man or a woman. She was briefly amused; the young man used mind-magic to make others think he was a woman.
Interesting.
: Why are you wearing that Gaudy dress? : She asked finally.
The young man spun around, a dagger appearing in his hand as though he'd conjured it. The man's blue eyes landed on her briefly before scanning the rest of the stable at large. He slipped the weapon back into his corset, where it came from.
He regarded her with intelligent, calculating eyes. Oddly, she felt like she was being measured and weighed. It annoyed her. He cocked his head to the side.
"I'll have you know, this is in style right now." He said at last, crossing his arms over his chest.
She blinked in surprise; she'd half expected him to panic and attempt to run away. After all in this world they had no Companions. She didn't even know if they had Mindspeech, or had acknowledged that it even existed. But he seemed to be taking the 'talking horse' well.
"You aren't a horse, I can feel that much," he said simply, and then added, "Besides, no horse would have made a comment about the dress. They don't completely understand the concept of cross-dressing. So my lady, care to tell me what you are and why you've been following me for the past hour and a half?"
She snorted. Well, that explained the long trek through the city. She lowered her head and looked him in the eyes. He was tall, but she was taller, not by much, but taller none the less. She was briefly amused. Animal mind speech was one of his gifts. It definitely explained a lot.
: I am Jissa, and I choose you, Yozak Gurrier. Out of all the people in this world, and my own, I choose you.: Then she let the love she felt for him wrap him in a soft blanket of warmth. She showed him images of her kind and of the Heralds. She showed him the web that existed between Heralds, with the Companions serving as nodes. She could feel his acceptance and his alarm. He was in the military, an undercover operative, which explained the dress! He'd been using his gifts to make his disguises believable for some time now, not even realizing what he was doing. And said gifts had yet to fully develop!
She could sense his unease and unhappiness at the thought of leaving his friend Conrart behind. But he was willing to come with her. She got the sense that he'd have asked to bring Conrart along, had the man not been the king's personal guard. This surprised her, the boy looked no older than 19.
The man swallowed and she sensed his sadness, and yet she could still feel his joy at the bond. "I have to report." He said calmly. "I can't just not return; the information I gathered is important. Even if it wasn't, I need to hand in my resignation. And I couldn't leave without at least checking on Conrart."
She stomped one hoof, wanting nothing more than to carry the man off to the sight the Gate would be opening at. Yet she knew that this Conrart was very important to her Chosen and the mere thought of leaving him behind was a dagger in her Chosen's side. She'd have happily carried him off before he handed in his resignation, but she simply could not deny him the chance to say goodbye to this all important friend.
~~~***~~~
Gwendal sighed as he looked down at his little brother; he was deeply worried. At least Conrart slept soundly— he'd been drugged into that slumber a few hours before. The brunette had still insisted that the attack was going to happen, and that he had not in fact lost his mind. He had refused to take the medication Gisela had given him, despite the fact that they assured him on multiple occasions that they were nothing more than the standard pain medication and a mild sedative. They'd finally resorted to slipping the drugs into a cup of tea the maids had brought up, without him noticing. The problem was that trick would likely never work again. Conrart was far too crafty to fall for the same trick twice. In addition to that, he'd gotten almost paranoid around the time of his 85th birthday.
Gwendal reached out and tugged the covers up to his little brother's chin. How could this have happened? How could his baby brother be losing his mind? He was only 135 for crying out loud! Hardly older than 19 as humans recon age and he wasn't even done growing. Closer to twenty now, but still –
Gisela had said it could very well be his blood. The human blood in him had simply gotten too old to function and was slowly killing him. The very thought frightened him! He shouldn't be watching as his little brother slowly lost his mind! And the very idea of watching him slowly fade away and die was even more horrible!
She'd also mentioned that the fall from his mount could have very well addled Conrart's mind, which wasn't a very appealing alternative explanation, anyway. In either scenario, there was very little to be done for his brother. All they could do was give him medication and hope he didn't digress further.
If Conrart was unwilling to take his medication like a man then Gwendal was more than willing to hold him down long enough for Gisela to medicate him!
His decision made, he left the room closing the door softly behind him.
~~~***~~~
Yozak shifted in his Companion's saddle, resolutely ignoring the fact that he was hungry and not quite sure how to bring up the subject of stopping long enough for him to forage some nearby berries. He glanced over at his normal mount, the gelding kept pace with Jissa with a relative ease, even though he got the impression she could move at a much faster pace if she so chose. It was morning now, a few hours till noon, and they were making good time. Jissa had tried to get him to leave his horse or send the beast home with someone else, but truth was part of him wanted to take Daikichi with him to this new world. The horse had been a gift from Conrart some years ago. His name apparently meant excellent luck in Japanese.
He reached over and patted the horse's neck with a gentle hand. He truly loved that horse, and not just because he was a gift from Conrart. His friend had seen to it that the horse was exquisitely trained. He was without a doubt the best horse he'd ever had. He would be sorry to lose him, but what need had he for a riding mount now? Jissa would be with him always, and he knew he would never be alone again. Yet the thought of leaving Daikichi behind was nearly as unpleasant as the thought of leaving Conrart behind!
He sighed, and listened to his stomach grumble… honestly he was going soft! He'd gone weeks without proper food before Conrart and his late father had found him, and now he misses two meals and his stomach rebels! It was damned embarrassing! What would Jissa think?!
: I think you're making a fuss over nothing, Chosen. Hunger is a completely natural bodily function, despite your childhood and chosen lifestyle. There are rations in the saddlebag to your left, in a waterproof blue bag. From what I've gathered, your friend would likely tell you the same if he here, would he not? : Jissa piped up unexpectedly.
Yozak jumped, startled by her response to his unvoiced question. Grinning sheepishly, he twisted round in the saddle and routed through the saddlebag she'd indicated. It was an odd feeling not to have to worry about directing his mount. He found the previously mentioned waterproof blue bag and discovered several ration bars. He'd never seen anything quite like them!
The bars they got in the military were always hard as a rock or brittle. These were softer, and it looked like there was dried fruit of some kind included in the bar.
He took a bite and nearly fell over as the delicious taste of honey and fruit filled his mouth. These were without a doubt the best rations he'd ever had. He told Jissa so, even as he pulled off a small hunk of the bar and fed it to Daikichi. He offered some of it to Jissa but she said she wasn't hungry. Jissa laughed merrily as they made their way down the road. He learned a lot about his Companion during that ride. She was the eldest of her mother's two foals. Her Younger brother Vanyel was here as well, searching for his own Chosen, despite the fact that he was still a colt.
Yozak couldn't help but laugh at the images she sent him of her brother trying desperately to find tack that would fit him. The image of the normally composed little colt, bouncing around the Grove-born stallion like the child he was, his voice clear and his thoughts perfectly ordered reminded him of a younger Conrart. Conrart, who always acted as if he was 13 going on 200, rather than the small child he really was and still acted the same way!
Speaking of Conrart, the bond he had with his best-friend chose that moment to flare into life. He smiled, and reached for his friend. Conrart was out of his range as far as speech went, so he simply sent him a wordless feeling, the equivalent of a slightly sarcastic welcome to this day. What he got in return nearly startled him out of his saddle! Conrart was annoyed, and very much afraid. He was distinctly uncomfortable with something, and Yozak got the impression that whatever had his friend worried was not something Conrart could handle on his own. Not life threatening, but -
:Jissa? : He asked, unsure of how to voice his request. They'd been moving at an easy trot so far, but now he suddenly wanted to make haste.
Jissa launched herself forward into a gallop, pulling Daikichi into a full gallop as well. He got the impression that she was actually hampered by his horse's presence, though he couldn't see how that was possible. Daikichi was a very fleet horse, and very intelligent.
Conrart had gotten him from one of the best lines in the Demon Kingdom, for a small fortune. Yozak remembered his own brief bout with jealousy; even if he saved for years he never would have had the money to buy a horse like Daikichi! Conrart hadn't given him a single clue about what he was up to until the gelding was fully trained. Yozak remembered walking into the stables early one morning after reporting to Gwendal, intending to go and see his own horse, Cobalt, who was getting too old to ride.
It was odd—he was in the military, yet he didn't get some of the same perks anyone else would have, like having horses provided for him, simply because in his line of work he could have no obvious ties to a specific unit. Gwendal had informed him that he was to find himself a suitable mount and submit the bill to him afterwards. He'd never had the chance to do so however. Then Conrart had been waiting for him, holding the reins of both his own Valiant and Daikichi.
Conrart had wanted to make sure he had a good mount, and one that wouldn't raise too much suspicion. Cobalt was a war horse, and Daikichi on the other hand was smaller, and built for speed rather than strength.
He shifted his weight, so that he was less of a hindrance to Jissa and settled himself for a long ride, keeping tabs on his bond to Conrart the whole time.
~~~***~~~
Conrart groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose in a flawless imitation of his elder brother. He was a patient man, he really was, and he loved his younger brother, but if he had to listen to the little brat whine any longer he was going to scream! Honestly, was Wolfram really that spoilt?
He suppressed the urge to snort. He was trying his level best to ignore the mindless chattering of the pigeon perched on his headboard; lest he give in to the urge to feed the bird to Yozak in the form of a thick stew immediately following his friend's arrival home. Like Wolfram, the pigeon had yet to shut up about its chosen topic. If only it were as easy to distract Wolfram with shiny objects!
Wolfram's current topic of annoyance was, as expected, King Yuri! He'd started in on the topic of just how unfair it was that their 'wimp of a king' had simply dismissed him from his presence. He was absolutely convinced that everyone had forgotten the fact that he was Yuri's fiancé, and it completely frustrated Conrart how oblivious Wolfram was to the fact that none of them could have forgotten had they wanted to with all the times he screamed it across the courtyard!
He'd tried to sooth his brother's ruffled feathers, only to be subjected to an hour long rant on how unfair it was that they had him, the King's fiancé, babysitting a 'worthless and insane' half-breed. After that, Conrart had decided to ignore his little brother, lest he give Gisela another reason to question his sanity by strangling his little brother.
Honestly, when had the sweet little boy he'd known turned into this brat?
He'd come to the conclusion several hours ago that what Wolfram really needed was the application of a hairbrush to his backside. Repeated as needed, until he grew the hell up!
He was about to strangle his little brother! He'd tried sending him away, but Wolfram refused to be budged! The boy really wasn't good for his self image! He'd been called worthless more times in the last hour than he had in the last 10 years! And to make matters worse, the damnable pigeon had yet to shut up, even though it had at least stopped repeating the word 'reply' two hours ago, when the sun coming in through his window had caught the little glass and gold beads in the bowl on his vanity table (which was a rather amusing gift from his lady mother). Now it was repeating something entirely different.
: Shiny, shiny, Shiny, shiny . : The damned thing repeated, bobbing its head up and down, and for lack of a better term scuttling back and forth along the length of the headboard. Between Wolfram and the damned bird, he was getting a monumental headache!
"Wolfram?" he asked, cutting his little brother off mid rant. "Would you do me the favor of throwing that bowl of beads out the window?"
The look his brother gave him was absolutely priceless! "And why would I want to do that, Weller?" he asked, somehow managing to smother his surname in disgust.
Conrart sighed, trying to come up with a reason that didn't make him sound completely insane! He suppressed the need to simply snap "Because I said so" at the little hooligan, and settled on simply saying "Please."
Wolfram sighed, and complaining the entire time about how difficult his life was, he grabbed the bowl and tossed the beads out the window!
It had the desired effect! The pigeon shot out the window after them with a purely mental cry of : Shinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnny! :
"Now, could you close the windows?" he asked just as the bird's tail feathers cleared the window.
Wolfram simply gaped at him.
"Please," he added, "before the bird comes back."
Wolfram grumbled, but he closed the windows, griping about his problems, and the odd habits and requests of worthless half-breeds the entire time.
Completely annoyed, Conrart did what was probably they stupidest thing he'd ever done in his life—he lowered himself to his little brother's level and retorted, "I hear Voices, and you think YOU have problems?!" just as the door opened to reveal Gisela and Gunter.
He swore colorfully in an odd mixture of English, Japanese, and his own language!
Gisela walked up to him holding out a steaming mug of something green and bubbly, that smelled suspiciously like sulfur!
No way was he drinking that!
The bubbles were yellow for crying out loud!
"If you think I'm drinking that, you have another thing coming!" he said sharply.
Gisela raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, and gave him the look she reserved for scaring the men into doing what she said, when she said it. However, after growing up with Gwendal, he was damned well immune to that look! He crossed his arms, clamped his teeth shut and turned his face away from her, turning up his nose in a flawless imitation of Wolfram!
"Conrart Laurence Weller! You have two choices," Gisela said sharply in her most commanding tone. "You can drink your medication like a big boy, or I can force feed you these!" she continued, holding up three separate vials of the bubbling green liquid.
He met her glare with one of his own. "I am not drinking that! I am not crazy! And I would have to be utterly insane to drink something that looked and smelled like that!"
Gisela glared at him before setting the steaming mug of goo down on the bedside table. She scrambled onto the bed and before he quite knew what was happening she had him deftly pinned down. He muttered something completely unbecoming of his rank and upbringing, before swiftly throwing her off with the ease of excessive military training.
She came at him again and again. He easily dislodged her, and annoyed, he climbed out of bed to face her on his feet rather than on his backside! They continued like this for some time before someone tackled him from behind and bore him to the floor.
He found himself face down on the floor. His arms were pinned to his sides, there was a heavy weight settled on the small of his back, and another set of hands grabbed his legs and pulled them straight, stealing his leverage! Even as they maneuvered him over onto his back he was snared in the traumatizing memories of fifty years before! Gisela's hands, which were prying open his jaws, combined with Gunter's weight across his hips and Wolfram pinning down his legs all combined to throw him backwards into a living nightmare!
He was helpless!
Helpless against the onslaught of memories! He struggled against them, reliving the events of his 85th birthday!
He was hardly cognitive of the Voice in his mind that screamed it was coming for him, that it would protect him. He was completely oblivious to everything, except for the fact that someone was pinning him down.
He couldn't move!
He was helpless!
Again!
Panic gripped him, even as Gisela poured the first of the three vials into his mouth and pinched his nose, forcing him to swallow.
Terrified and helpless under the combined weight of the person straddling his waist and the panic gripping his heart, he lashed out by the only means left to him. His strange ability flared to life despite his exhaustion; he'd been able to move things with his mind alone since his 85th birthday. He had no conscious way of controlling it, but it normally served him well just the same.
~~~***~~~
A.N Read and review people… please?