I struggled quite a bit with this and the next chapters. Rewrote this one some odd three times before settling with this.

Chapter 8 is still in progress and finals are coming up quickly so I don't know when I'll have it done but it'll go up soon as it is!

Please read and review, any sort of comments are most helpful :)


Chapter 7: An Unknown Soul

The Omphalos chamber is not as comforting as it once was. It is still bright, it is still warm and inviting, and Parroen still tends the pups across the way, three days and the pups are already getting bigger.

In a month they will be full grown and ready to choose their masters and fight for the Grove. Possibly to the death.

The plaza chimes radiate around the chamber from below, a gentle ting-ta-ching sound with the shhhhshaaa of wind. It is home as it should be, but it is not the same.

"A penny for your thoughts?" She jumps and whirls around in surprise, blushing when the Pale Tree smiles at her, knowingly, always knowingly.

"I—uh—I was just—" she stammers. She'd came here for a purpose, Malomedies had found her re-carving Old Boy's antlers last night, clearing out the grooves of mud, moss, and tar. It'd been all she was doing for the past couple of nights, tending to the stag, nursing him back to health and pouring herself into the garden. If just to keep her mind off things. Malomedies had… strongly suggested she go see the Pale Tree come morning.

The Pale Tree laughs at her child's blush, it is a warm sort, and sounds like Wintersday bells. Though Abhari can safely say she has never heard those sorts of bells it was just… true. Perhaps she'd heard them once in the Dream.

"Be still, young one, it is a human saying I learned from my children."

"I-I know." Abhari knows her cheeks are dark with embarrassment "I've heard it a few times." She feels small standing next to the avatar of the Pale Tree, all bright and glowing like the sun, dressed in lotus flowers and white lilies, she feels like a quivering little thorn bush in her Mother's presence.

"I did say be still." She blushes again and the Pale Tree gives a small chuckle under her breath. "Your feelings are known to me, sapling, your thoughts, however, are not. What worries you?"

"M-Malomedies told me to come… said y-you needed to speak with me."

"I do but I would know you first, valiant." Abhari is not sure she wants the Pale Tree to know her as she is now, months ago, maybe, but now… now she is as bristly as that little thorn bush, angry and touchy, as Malomedies had described her.

The Mother's touch on her shoulder is penetrating, it fills her with warmth and hope and floods her from head to toe but stops, she feels, at the dark core inside her, swirling with black energy.

"Tell me why." The Pale Tree grabs both her shoulders, making her look her in the eye, soft pale gold eyes that she knows read her like an open book.

"What captivates your thoughts so fiercely?"

"I miss him, alright?" she doesn't mean to snap, doesn't mean to snarl but it happens, just as well as the tears rimming her eyes.

"I miss him, mother… don't you… don't you feel it too? I-I feel… empty, and everyone—everyone around me congratulates me on my victory but—it's not a victory, mother, it hurts too much to be that." Her shoulders are trembling and her hands are clenched tightly into fists. She purses her lips together to stop them from shaking and she knows she hardly looks like a girl in control of her emotions.

"No one mourns him but me, mother, and I am tired of being alone." She winces when those soft caring hands grasp her jaw and tilt her face up so that their eyes meet.

The Pale Tree smiles "The animals do not help?" Abhari chokes and laughs, shaking her head.

"Marrow and uhm—the stag are… comforting, but not the same, mother." She can't help the smile tugging at her lips as she wipes away the tears that threaten to spill over.

The Pale Tree takes both her hands, thumbing over the dark purple bark of her knuckles absently.

"I mourn him as well, dear heart." She sighs, and Abhari finds it surprising that the Mother of all would bear such emotion in the open.

When she'd first recognized the Pale Tree as a being outside the dream, she imagined a stoic and wise character, and she was but… also so much more real than a Queen on an unreachable pedestal.

"I mourn all my children. The ones who have turned their hearts away from me, the soundless, and the ones whose souls have turned black with hate and despair. I weep for those not yet born, who will have to struggle as you have. Most of all, I worry for those who roam the world, and those I call my firsts."

"The firstborn?" she wasn't expecting that.

The Pale Tree nods, squeezing Abhari's hands before letting go and walking towards a wide opening in the wall that overlooks the rest of the grove. Abhari follows and stands next to her, looking across the treetops and down into the commons where sylvari chatter, barter, and travelers from faraway lands arrive with either awe or surprise on their faces.

"Yes, they see the farthest, they've seen the darkest times yet and know the darker times to come. They ache, young one, they are tired and I worry for them."

"…and Caithe?"

"Especially Caithe." The Pale Tree smiles, but the sorrow in her eyes sours it, "As she is the closest to the fall." Abhari narrows her eyes, brows knitting, "Caithe? Falling to Nightmare?" but… the firstborn hates Nightmare, why would she consider joining them?

"She lost someone dear to her to the darkness, and I know not a day where she does not consider joining her love."

Abhari bows her head, ashamed. She'd been harsh on Caithe, probably even pushed her closer to the edge, but… the thought of Caithe still ignites a primal fire inside her that she's not sure will ever go out.

"But she does worry about you, sapling."

"Me?"

"Yes, she worries that you will fall to darkness if you go alone. Mostly, she worries that she will lose her one and only companion in her Wyld Hunt." The Dragons.

Abhari can't help the exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose when a roaring headache floods her skull.

"Mother… I don't want to fight the dragons. I mean… yes, I want them gone; they destroy everything they touch but… certainly you could have chosen someone more capable?"

Suddenly those pale gold eyes are back on her and she ducks, she doesn't want the Mother to see her soul so easily as through her eyes.

"Oh sapling... I do not choose which of my children receives a Wyld Hunt. I cannot decide my children's fate, the dream of dreams is a wild and untamed thing—I am merely its conduit. What you saw in your dream is yours alone to keep, love, and I am sorry that you have such a burden on your shoulders while you are still so young. Just know that the Dream only shows such a burden to my bravest and strongest of children." She is at least genuine in her apologies, but Abhari still feels her shoulders slump. She knew the Pale Tree did not decide her destiny but... she still wishes she could hide from it, hide from the dragon that hungers for her blood every night when she closes her eyes. She is not brave enough, or strong enough, to face such a fate.

There is a long pause between them, the Pale Tree ever patient, quiet as she waits for one of Abhari's many warring thoughts to come out on top. The dragons were her fate, her destiny, one she could choose to ignore, she could try and run from her fate but... there were Elder Dragons in every corner of Tyria now... now there would be no place far enough to escape them.

So with that decided, "Mother... I have never considered joining the Court, it's not... right... but I can't say that I entirely disagree with them." The Pale Tree does not respond and for a moment she fears she's said the wrong thing.

"I-I... it's just... Gavin was honorable, he was my friend and I—he had all the right intentions, why did he have to die?"

"So you do not agree with Ventari's Tablet?" The woman dressed in sunlight meets her worried gaze and she finds herself looking away, unable to meet those eyes without feeling a seed of... not shame but... something inside her that quivered and shook, doubt, maybe.

"I do but... I feel like Tyria does not. How can we believe in the tablet when what we see and feel negates it?"

"It is a challenge, young one. To have faith in an unseen philosophy is difficult in a cruel world but without it, we would all certainly fall to despair." And she considers it, she's not sure she entirely agrees but she does consider it.

"I will... think on it, mother." She sighs, rubbing the back of her neck, feeling knots in her muscles ease just the slightest, like a weight was lightened, not gone, but no longer as heavy as it once was.

"You have the freedom to believe what you will, simply know that a little faith can go a long way... even my firsts need to be reminded sometimes." The Pale Tree offers her a small smile before she turns and walks into the alcove bathed in sunlight, "Now, Malomedies told you I wished to speak with you, yes?"

Abhari follows, standing before her, hands gripped behind her back, twiddling her thumbs nervously "Ah—yes."

The Pale Tree smiles again at her child's nervousness, "I wish for you to meet my eldest child, Trahearne, he has returned from Orr and I feel your destinies are just as intertwined as yours and Caithe's." The flinch Abhari makes when she hears that name does not go unnoticed. The Pale Tree frowns and takes her hand, reaching to tilt Abhari's face up so that she may look at her. But Abhari does not meet her eyes, instead looking off to the side, brows knit and lips pursed thin.

"Child... please forgive Caithe her misgivings, she has lost... much and she worries so." She tries to sooth her child's soul, but it would seem that she would refuse the effort.

"I will... try, mother, but I'm afraid it will not be so easy." Abhari sighs, and feels a pit slowly settle in her stomach at the thought of meeting another firstborn, "...Where do I meet this Trahearne?"

The Pale Tree seems at least satisfied for now, "He awaits in your garden. He has shown interest in you and your dream so please, love, be patient."

And honestly, she is tired of people wanting to butt in on her dream. She fears she will not meet expectations, her glorious destiny calls for a soul of valor and she's afraid that that soul is not in her, and never will be.

"I will mother... I will—go meet him now." She turns away abruptly, she misses the sad look the Pale Tree gives her, and the apologetic one she receives from Parroen, even the gentle whines from the pups who sense her heart.

Trahearne will be disappointed when he feels her soul. She will arrive in the terrace and he will sense such a darkness he would kill her on sight for fear of Nightmare.

She feels her heart quiver the slightest when she realizes she would not be unwelcome to death.

Let the reaper come, it is time she get acquainted with her employer.