A/N: This chapter was frustrating, and thanks be to my beta for helping me turn it into something readable. With my semester already getting heavy, I can't guarantee weekly updates, but I'll try my darnedest, dear readers. Also, I hate to be the author that does this, but with almost 600 hits on this story, I'm a little saddened by the lack of reviews. Just remember, reviews make this author happy, and a happy author is more likely to blow off studying the rules of evidence for writing fanfiction.
Disclaimer: Yadda yadda, not mine. Ho hum.
DG woke up with a start, legs tangled in rough blankets, and immediately she panicked at the unfamiliar surroundings. She struggled to peer through the ill-light room, and made out several low cots, several large cabinets against the far wall, and areas walled off with curtains that hung from posts in the ceiling. She recognized the palace infirmary in the drab lighting, and she frowned, disconcerted. A peek under the coarse, thin blanket draped over her, she realized she had been dressed in a loose, unflattering threadbare gown that was held together by a few ties in strategic places. So, she was in the infirmary, obviously she had been injured...
When she shifted to a sitting position a sudden pain in her chest blossomed like a living thing, pounding and throbbing in tangible waves, hot and itchy. Her memory swam up from the murky, uncertain depths of her brain and DG pieced together the events that ended up with her laying on a cot and feeling like she had been torn apart and stitched back together again. Which, give or take a few details, she had been. She touched the spot where the knife had penetrated with a hesitant finger, then pressed a little harder on the tender spot when no gaping, gory wound met her touch.
'Well, I owe Raw a thank you.' She was faintly awestruck, and tangled skeins of memory made her think of endings, and goodbyes, and she was unimaginably grateful to her friend for bringing her back from the brink. Her last memories before everything faded away had been of suffocating and not being able to draw a breath. And the look of shock on Cain's face. And then everything had gone grey...
'I nearly died. Dead, as in no more DG. Oh my God.' The shudders overtook her unbidden, and she fisted a hand in the fabric over her chest, struggling to breathe without sobbing. The fight for air only reminded her of the night's events, which compounded the problem until she was bent over double, hiccupping and gasping. Through the haze of half-shed tears she saw spectres of mercenaries circling her once more, armed with knives that were just waiting to part soft, vulnerable flesh. When she closed her eyes against the sight, whimpering in distress, she saw men falling as she blasted them with the full-force of her magic, and she could smell their skin sear and smoke.
Just when DG thought her heart couldn't beat any harder without beating its way out of her chest, a fragment of memory came back to her.
She remembered summoning her magic, struggling to give Cain a parting gift, unsure of what she was doing. There had been a rending inside of her, but when her magic curled beneath his skin she had felt a strange sense of peace. The memory felt so evocative and powerful that it brought her both a slight measure of calm and a deep sense of confusion. It was enough that she was able to draw a full breath, and the bone-deep shuddering subsided, but when DG opened her eyes, she was still discomfited by the dark and the empty cots awaiting bodies around her. She wanted out of this unknown, foreign place, she wanted to be somewhere familiar and safe.
DG swung her feet over the edge of the cot and planted them on the cold floor and levered herself carefully to her feet. The movement made her head swim slightly, but she shook it off after a moment and resolved to move slowly and carefully. No sense in adding bruises to her list of ailments by getting up close and personal with the floor. Feeling a little naked in her easy-access gown, she decided on taking the thin blanket, and wrapped it around herself. The material itched against the bare skin of her arms, and she wondered at the cruel minds who had decided it prudent to give the infirm and ill blankets that felt like they were woven out of steel wool.
She fumbled her way through the dark, avoiding obstacles she was sure were there just to trip light-headed princesses who were stupid enough to go traipsing around in the dark and made it to the double doors of the infirmary after an embarrassingly long passage of time. DG had her hand on one of the doors, ready to push it open, when she spotted a guard lounging against the wall through the panes of glass that took up half of the infirmary wall. The man was young, short and squat, and luckily, for her, he was busy reading what appeared to be the O.Z.'s answer to Penthouse. A scantily clad woman on the cover of his battered leaflet promised no educational value whatsoever.
DG thought briefly of banging her head off the door in frustration, but decided against it. It would only alert the man to her presence and she'd be forced back into her lumpy cot quickstep.
'Of course there would be a guard posted. Someone just tried to assassinate you, they aren't going to leave you alone. Like, ever again.'
Unable to bear the thought of passing the hours until morning alone in the dark of the infirmary, where shadows gathered and brought dark thoughts and unbidden images, DG knew she had to find a way past the young guard.
DG bit her lip and decided on a wild impulse to attempt something Tutor had stringently warned her was out of her level of experience. She closed her eyes and dipped into the pool of her magic, which she always imagined laid somewhere deep in her belly, like a well, and which was frighteningly low after her earlier firework display, and pulled a fine thread of it out and imagined weaving it in and around her skin, like a fine net. As she wove, DG chanted in her head, repeating the same words over and over again, 'Don't notice me, don't notice me, please God, keep reading your skin mag and don't notice me'.
After several long moments, and one staggering moment of dizziness, DG opened her eyes and stared at the glass wall. Her reflection was only noticeable as a faint outline, and only truly visible because she knew what she was looking for. Feeling a static bolt of pride, DG gave in and performed a little jig of accomplishment, stopping only when her chest gave a twinge of hot protest to the energetic movement. Tutor be damned. Experience be damned. She was a magic-working mofo.
DG still had to contend with the door, but she opened it centimetre by painful centimetre, and prayed all the while it wouldn't squeak, or her guard wouldn't catch the movement and start screaming about ghost doors. With a wildly beating heart, DG managed to push the door open enough to squeeze her small frame through, and she repeated the process in closing it, all without drawing the man's attention.
'Either that is one shitty guard, or one raunchy magazine.' DG thought uncharitably.
Holding the blanket around her, DG wandered the halls of the palace, noting that in the middle of the night, it was an entirely different place. She decided she didn't like it. It had a propensity for eerie shadows and the small lamps spaced too far apart cast unnerving silhouettes on the walls. When she shuffled past a lamp that flickered and dimmed as the bulb died, she was suddenly thrown back to red light cast by a flare, and of a hall rendered in black and crimson and her panic was back in full force. Without meaning to, DG began to walk faster, and before long she was engaged in a full-on sprint down the halls.
Without realizing it, DG's feet carried her to the safest place she could think of.
Cain woke suddenly and unnaturally, and immediately he dove for the revolver underneath his pillow. The sound of the hammer being drawn back is impossibly loud in the darkness of the bedroom the Queen has allocated him for when he has business at the palace.
"Please don't tell me you have a gun pointed at me right now..." came the wry admonishment from the foot of his bed.
"I have a gun pointed at the person who broke into my room. My locked room." Cain shot back, grumpily, and fumbled to turn on his bedside lamp. They both blinked in the sudden light.
"Magic has led me to a life of crime," DG informed him sarcastically, but he noted her voice was trembling slightly, and she was wrapped in a worn blanket that she clutched around her like a life-line.
He remembered her as he last saw her, pale and just this side of living and he is immediately halfway out of the bed, concern zinging through his body like a current. "What's wrong kiddo?" he asked her gently, keeping his voice even and soft, even though he was far from calm.
DG fidgeted with the hideous woven blanket, picking at a particularly threadbare spot with a fingernail. "I don't know why I'm here. I just... This is where I ended up. I didn't want to wake you, but-."
Cain was in front of her before he made the conscious effort to move, and he cupped her face gently and forced her to look at him. "Kiddo? I want you to come to me when somethin's wrong. Always," he told her firmly, leaving no room for an argument.
With a shaky sigh, DG pressed into his touch as if she wasn't aware she was doing it and her eyes drifted closed. "I woke up alone, and then it all came whooshing back to me, like a tidal wave. I saw the fighting, I saw men I hurt, I saw the knife... But not just in my head, Cain!" She whispered frantically, and squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn't have to make eye contact.
"You saw 'em with your eyes open too, huh?" Cain asked, not even waiting for her nod of acknowledgement before continuing. "Well, you can stop worryin' that you've gone crazy. You were in a war zone tonight, and shock does strange things to a person. I know."
DG made a soft, inquisitive noise, moving her face against his hand unconsciously. He responded and traced soft circles against her jaw and cheek with a calloused thumb. "I've nearly died a time or two myself, y'know. I'm familiar with the side effects. I wanted to be there when you woke up, so you wouldn't be alone, but that harpy who runs the infirmary told me you'd sleep through the night and chased me off."
Eyes finally opening, DG regarded him with mirth. "A little old nurse scared you off? You? The Great Wyatt freakin' Cain?"
Hiding his pleasure at her name for him in a mock growl, Cain dropped his hands to her shoulders as his amusement faded and something dark and heavy bubbled in his gut. "Not so great after all. I nearly got you killed," he disagreed, his back tensing under the weight of memory.
DG tensed as well, and he watched her blue eyes light up fiercely. She poked him in the chest with her index finger. "Hey, no! You don't get to do that!"
Confused, Cain looked from her finger on his chest to the girl in front of him. "Do what?"
Throwing up her hands in exasperation and losing her blanket in the process, she did a fair impersonation of his growl. "Do the broody, guilt-ridden thing. I won't have it! You didn't 'almost get me killed'! You saved my life! You protected me, you big jerk!"
Blinking in the face of her tirade, Cain opened his mouth to argue her logic, but quickly rerouted his plan when he noticed her sway and rebalance herself quickly. "You're exhausted. You need sleep. We can fight about this later."
DG bit her lip and gave him a plaintive look. "I- I don't want to be alone," she admitted ruefully, her voice so quiet he had to lean in to hear her.
Regarding her for a long moment, Cain gave into the urge to touch her, as if reassuring himself she was alive and well. He brushed his fingers across her brow and then his fingers dropped to hover over the spot he had seen knit whole before his eyes. "Then stay here."
She gaped at him for a beat, then she gave a small, crooked grin. "If you were anyone else, I'd worry about your intentions, Mr. Cain."
Cain was horrified to find himself flushing, and it only got worse when his brain chose that moment to point out that she was in a wholly scandalous medical gown with only two ties between her and the world, and that only made her laugh brightly. "I just meant-."
She cut him off, obviously struggling to quell her vibrant laughter. "I know what you meant."
"I can sleep on the couch," he pointed toward the window seat. " Over there, and you can have the bed."
"Ah, so proper. I'm not stealing your bed, Cain. It's big enough for two of us, with plenty of extra room for a barrier between us," she protested with a yawn, covering her mouth primly with a pale hand.
"I don't mind the couch."
"Shut up, Cain. Argue it in the morning," she ordered firmly.
He sighed and moved to his side of the bed, and she followed his lead, crawling under the covers with heavy, fatigued movements. When they were both settled (and indeed, there was a suitable barrier of space between them, and why was he somewhat disappointed?), Cain reached over to turn off the lamp. He laid there a long time, not remotely sleepy anymore, and tried not to do the 'broody, guilt-ridden thing'. He decided after several minutes that he wasn't very good at it and gave a heavy sigh and shifted to his side.
Cain found himself calmed by DG's even breathing, and he let his eyes drift closed while he concentrated on the soothing, rhythmic sound. He was surprised when she suddenly rolled over to face his back.
"Cain, is there a god here? Or gods? Like, organized religion?" She asked him, sounding pensive.
Frowning in puzzlement, Cain reversed his position so he was facing her. He could see the outline of her face in the moonlight from the large, sunken window, picking out the curve of her cheek in blue. "I guess. Not many people hold true to that sorta thing 'round the O.Z. anymore. They've started worshipping technology and science more than any shadowy notion of gods," he explained slowly, wondering where this line of thought had come from.
DG pondered that for a moment. "But there were gods? Who were they?"
Cain shrugged gracelessly. "I don't know much, most of it's the stuff of the Ancients. I don't know what their real names were. We call them the Light and the Dark."
DG fidgeted and made a soft humming noise in the back of her throat. "Like the prophecy? The song? One drawn to light, the other to dark?"
"That'd be it. Why'd you want to know?"
She was silent for a long time before she answered. "I.. don't know. It just popped into my head. Just curious I guess."
'She almost died, of course she wants to know about gods, about what comes after,' Cain thought, but decided not to voice it aloud.
"G'night, Cain," she breathed, her voice thick and heavy with sleep.
"Goodnight, Kid."
Cain let himself be lulled to sleep by DG's soft breaths at his side, and was comforted by the warmth at his side, even they were at least two hand-spans apart for propriety's sake. This felt right, he decided, drifting at the border between sleeping and waking. He didn't have to worry about the kid when she was within arm's reach, and he found he didn't much feel like worrying about anything else, either. Something in his chest loosened and uncoiled with DG sleeping safe, vital and alive, by his side, where he could watch over her.
'After all, someone has to look after the kid. She attracts trouble like she's advertisin'. I don't see anyone else volunteerin'.'
Satisfied, Cain joined DG in sleep, his mind set.
DG was dreaming. She knew this because she was in a vast vista of grey nothingness. There were no landmarks, no distinctive shapes, and every time she spun, trying to catch a glimpse of something remarkable in the nothing, she only succeeded in making herself dizzy and off-balance. She wrapped her arms around herself and bit her lip, deciding her subconscious had gotten lazy. Who dreams of nothing? Sheer nothing? It was like she was settled in a cosmic waiting place, hanging out until the real dream began. She didn't like it. The lack of any features to act as a touchstone, she felt a very real dread begin to build in the pit of her stomach. Goosebumps sprung up on her arms, the sensation so vivid she was sure it translated to real life.
Finally, she'd had enough, as the fear built up like a bubble in her belly. "Hey! I want out!" She screamed into the void.
And then, as if in response the vista was changing, twisting and contorting, until shapes and colours formed in the void, grass springing up beneath her bare feet, trees growing from seedlings in the span of seconds before her eyes to towering, majestic oaks. Sky swirled down from nothing, a dusky gray like pre-dawn or dusk, and stars blinked to life like an orchestrated magic show.
When the scene resolved itself, DG was standing in a clearing, under the shadow of the trees at her back. The remaining elements sprung to life, like an artist shading in the finer details; tiny white flowers spotted in the grass, moss and lichen on tree trunks, vivid green fern and finer colours that made the world seem real. As DG watched, two figures winked into existence at the center of the clearing. They were pale, long-limbed, and even though they didn't look remotely similar on a surface level, something in their bearing marked them a set, like siblings, or something more. They were also achingly beautiful. He- tall and slender, but firm with muscle, tow-headed with a heart-rending smile. His eyes, piercing even at a distance, were a remarkable green. She- willowy and graceful, serious but for twinkling eyes a shade of blue not far to DG's own, her hair a silken tumble of black curls.
The scene changed, and now DG was further in the woods, watching as the man darted past her, weaving his way around the trees deftly. His laughter, rich and wicked with fierce joy, rang through the forest around them. The woman tore past DG, nearly brushing up against her, not seeing her, in hot pursuit. Once, when She nearly caught Him, the man flicked a hand and a massive oak upended, crashing into the woman's path, nearly crushing her, forcing her to quickly change course.
'You cheat!' She cried accusingly, speaking something that wasn't even close to English, it was heavy and thick, but DG understood the words all the same.
'Always,' he agreed easily, smiling over his shoulder at her with wicked mischief. The man drew ahead of His pursuer, and suddenly altered His path.
'My Half, watch me!' He yelled back to Her, suddenly leaping up, impossibly high, to snatch a low-flying kestrel. As He gracefully tumbled to the forest floor, He held His prize aloft, face beaming with a child-like pride.
'Very good,' She agreed. 'Now let it free.'
'No, it is mine. I shall do with it as I please.' He told Her, eyes narrowing.
As DG and the woman watched, He snapped the bird's wing smoothly between his long fingers and the bird let out a horrid noise of pain and distress. DG shoved her finger to her mouth, pressing them to her lips in horror. The woman cried out and raised a hand, pleading.
'My Half, stop!'
'No.' Crack, snap. Another high keening noise.
'I don't want to watch anymore,' DG thought, sickened.
'Then give it to me. A gift! Please,' She begged, eyes shining bright with tears. She lifted her hands and cupped them entreatingly.
'You want it?' He asked, eyes lighting up.
'Yes!'
He gave a radiant smile and with a twist of his hand, too fast to follow, he wrenched the bird's head off. He dropped the small, wretched body to the ground as She let out a horrified cry and He wiped the blood off on His thighs. His face went blank and shuttered as He regarded Her.
'You should want only me,' He told Her darkly, spinning on His heel as He walked away from Her.
The scene darkened as She tentatively walked over to the dead bird, standing above it with Her face twisted with soft grief.
The vista twisted and resolved itself until DG was standing should to shoulder with the woman, the two of them alone and overlooking a huge, lush valley. They stood, toeing the edge of a cliff and vertigo made DG dizzy, but she didn't move back. She was resolute, she would watch this story unfold.
The woman at her side cupped Her hands to Her breast, Her eyes falling shut, and She began to glow. The light beneath Her skin grew brighter and brighter until DG's eyes burned, and tears streamed down her face. It was like staring directly into the sun. Finally the woman pulled Her hands away from Her chest, and the light collected like liquid sunshine in Her palms. Looking into Her cupped hands, DG watched Her smile for the first time and nearly wept with it, it was hauntingly lovely. It was every smile a mother had ever smiled, upon seeing their new child for the first time. It made DG ache, even as she grinned to see it.
As She moved to let the light gathered in Her palms escape, suddenly He was behind Her. He wrapped His longs arms around Her, gripping Her wrists, and pure darkness, inky and thick, poured out from His hands and swirled into Her light, insinuating itself at the heart of Her creation. She gave a cry of pure shock as He broke Her hands apart and their combined creation shattered into infinite pieces, motes of light and dark sparking off into the valley below, falling like stars.
'NO!' She screamed, ragged denial in Her voice as She scrambled to try and recapture individual fragments of life.
'You musn't be selfish, my Half. There cannot be Light without the Dark,' He told Her, enfolding Her in His arms and trapping Her with bruising force. 'Now watch our children.'
Dropping Her head, She drew Herself small in His arms and watched what They had set in motion unfold. And DG watched, unseen and an intruder beside the two most powerful beings in what would become the O.Z., as the world as she knew it began. When that world began to tremble and shatter, dissolving around her, DG screamed and dropped to her knees in panic.
