X'Nedra's Story
disclaimer: the characters in this story belong to the original authors, David and Leigh Eddings. I just use the characters because the Eddings' Belgariad, Mallorean, Elenium and Tamuli shaped how I write. I can't express how much the characters they created have affected me and my world-view.
So, cheesy as it may seem, this fanfiction is dedicated to David and Leigh Eddings, my favorite authors and the ones who opened my mind to fantasy.
Chapter 3: An Emergency and a Discovery
X'Nedra's pov
I was still deeply asleep when I heard Garion's voice in my head. My hand must have been on Beldaran's amulet, because I heard him so clearly that it woke me up. I sat straight up in the large bed when I heard what was going on. I focused on my amulet and waited.
X'Nedra, Garion's though hit me, Our boy is so sick. Aunt Pol is coming, though. I know she will heal him.
I know, Garion; Aunt Pol would never let any of her boys go sick, I thought. And I thought that I thought it to myself.
X'Nedra? Was that really you? Garion's thought, while frantic, held the glimmer of pride or maybe hope. No, it couldn't have been X'Nedra. She can't do that. Aunt Pol!
I fell back on the bed, shocked that Garion had completely dismissed what had happened. Truth was, I wasn't sure it had happened either. But why would he completely discount me?
I couldn't worry about that my only son was sick, perhaps dying if Aunt Pol had already been sent for. I jammed my feet into the nearest shoes and ran out the door after I moved everything I had put in front of it earlier. I ran through the halls and corridors, racing to the throne room where I knew my son would be. What I saw scared me more than anything ever had before.
Garion was leaning over our son's ashen face, his body vibrating with the power coming off of him. Beldaran had arrived with the family doctor and all the healers in the Citadel in tow; every one of them was crowding around Geran, encircling him and Garion, closing ranks, and not a one of them made way for me to get to my son.
"Geran," I said, my voice's pitch rising on its own, thanks to my terror. I ran over to the newly formed enclave and pushed at one of the junior healers, trying to get to my son and husband. "Garion, tell them to let me through!"
A healer I didn't recognize put a hand on my shoulder and gave me that gods-forsaken smile that every healer and doctor gives the mother of a dying child. "Don't worry, my Lady. We will make Sir Geran comfortable before we move him to his room. Perhaps you should wait there for him."
I was so angry I could feel my heart beat in my eyes. I looked directly at the healer who had dared to address me as such, and soon other healers were looking as well. My heart pounded harder and harder, and I felt my lungs begin to tighten.
"I am his mother, Healer. I am queen of this Isle, I am Queen to the Overlord of the West. That is my son and I . . . Say . . MOVE!" I screamed and raised my hand to strike the imbecile, but suddenly he and his comrades were flung across the room. I gasped and stared at Beldaran.
"My gentle daughter did you do that? They're healers!" I said softly, afraid of my daughter.
"No, Mum," Beldaran said, her face white and her hands hovering above her father and brother.
"Garion, my Belgarion, did you do that, so I could see my Geran?" I asked, afraid of his answer.
"No, X'Nedra. That was you."