AN. No story will ever be abandoned. I have simply been in grad school for the last two years and it has drastically cut into my personal writing time. I will be graduating in mid-May and the next chapter of "Of Heralds and Demons" should be out by mid-June by the latest as I am already partly done with it. The next chapter of OH Crap should be out by mid-July. Flight of freedom and "What lies Beneath" soon after that. Read and review please.
Chapter 2
That small rational part of Vanyel's mind that was free of Tylendel's rage, whispered to him. Urging him to fight for control of his own mind; in a voice that sounded eerily like Yfandes.
Gods you couldn't make this easy, could you? What the hell am I supposed to do to stop Gala from repudiating Lendel now?
He struggled to think around the energy drain of the gate he was tied to, and his lifebonded's pain and rage. The damn cat's last words rang out in his head as clearly as if it was shouting in his mental ear. He shook his head, shoved his thoughts aside and tried to decipher the cat's words. He couldn't figure it out. But he did know one thing, Tylendel may have had the active gift at the moment, but he was the one with over than 500 years of experience.
And doesn't that just make me feel like an old pervert.
He shook off that thought and tried to concentrate. He had far more experience than Lendel did at this point. Magic was all about intent and will. Theoretically if he could just distract Tylendel long enough, he would be able to clamp down on his lifebonded's gift with an iron fist of his own will. Thus preventing Tylendel from actually preforming the act for which he'd been reputed.
The effort would hurt. It might even kill him. Still he wasn't important, Tylendel was. So how did one go about distracting a Herald-mage who had been driven mad with grief and not end up a smear on the ground?
In another lifetime Steffen had done just that. Had talked him down out of a pain and terror induced rage, by physically placing himself between Van and the brigand he'd been determined to flatten. That tactic would not work here. For one thing, Steffen had been secure in the knowledge that Van, would never hurt him. For his part, Vanyel was very much aware that if he chose to follow Steffen's example – he would end up just as flat as the Leshara.
Still he had to try.
"Lendel!" he called, staggering to his feet he grabbed the other boy's shoulder to steady himself. "Lendel stop. Don't let them do this to you. You're a Herald." The other boy simply shrugged him off, and raised his hands to summon the vectors of his magical vengeance.
Vanyel swore colorfully and in several languages, struggling to keep his balance around the draining presence of the gate. The damn cat's voice sounded in his mind, repeating the last inane bit of dribble it had spouted before scaring him … well… to life.
"True names stop clocks
What the hell did that mean anyway?
He turned the riddle over and over in his mind, as vermilion lightning crackled around him. Something about that first line struck a chord within him. True Names. The Tayledras, took use names, and were single-minded about their belief that those names represented them. To the point that they changed their names when something happened that fundamentally changed them. His many times great granddaughter's husband had changed his name from Songwind to Darkwind after the magical accident that had changed not only his life, but his world view.
But what does it mean? Who am I? Vanyel? No… well yes but it just didn't really encompass all that he was. Vanyel Ashkevron, somehow that fell even further short. Oddly enough Demonsbane and Shadowstalker came closer.And wasn't that just infuriating when he'd spent a good part of his life loudly, and exasperatedly claiming that he was "Just another herald." There was one thing that all Heralds had in common regardless of their individual gifts. One thing that set them apart from everyone else in the kingdom.
And then he knew.
"Herald Mage Tylendel Frelennye, Chosen of Companion Gala. You will stop." He commanded, in the best approximation of his usual 'stop-a-mob-in-full-cry-voice.' His dignity rather drastically diminished when his knees buckled.
Tylendel froze, and in that one moment of shock Vanyel flung himself at his once lover with the full force and power of a mind and will that had protected Valdemar for more than 500 years. He took hold of Tylendel's gift with an iron grip and forced it down. It took every ounce of his strength, every ounce of his will, but he managed it.
The next few minutes were a blur of activity. Tylendel turned, fury in every line of his body and lashed out at him - physically- with manic strength. The resulting blow sent Van sprawling, and for one terrifying moment he lost his hold of the other boy's gift and felt it rise up, in response to Tylendel's call. Lord Evan advanced on them sword in hand, and murder in his eyes. Vanyel all his attention on the ensuing battle of wills – frankly didn't have the time to spear for the pitiful little man. He held on to Tylendel's gift with all his might, forcing it back down. Just as Gala thundered through the gate. She charged past where he and Tylendel writhed upon the floor, trumpeting with rage and fear. He felt more then saw her rear in challenge, shielding them from the advancing lord with deadly hooves.
((({
Yfandes stood in her stall, enjoying the warmth. She was … bereft. It felt as though half of her soul, had been ripped away from her without her-quite- noticing. She snorted and paced her lose box, door-less stall trying to figure out what she had lost. The Companions knew what was currently happening, of course. Hard not to when Gala had flown out of her stall, like a bat out of hell, just a short time ago, hell bent on stopping her Chosen before the boy did something unforgivable. Meanwhile, Taver, Kellen and Felar were scrambling to get themselves and their heralds out to clean up the boy's mess. Hard on the heels of Gala's realization of Trainee Tylendel's location and what he planned on doing, came another realization, centered this time on her Chosen's lover. Young Vanyel had sacrificed something great to buy them the chance to correct what was about to happen. In doing so, he had bought them time to divert a crisis, generations away. All of the Companions knew this. Even though they did not, as of yet, know just what the boy had sacrificed, they respected it. A few of the older Companions had even commented on the fact that it was unfortunate that the boy had no gifts, since a boy would likely grow to become Heraldic material.
She paused mid stride and pawed the ground. Somehow thinking of the boy she'd seen a few times in the field made her ache. She reared to her full height, giving voice to her frustration and loss. Crashing back to the ground she stood, head hanging low, and tried to sort out her feelings. Heedless of the concerned looks her outburst had garnered.
A small puff of air heralded the arrival of someone else in her stall. She backed up a pace and pinned her ears back at the sight of the large black and silver, long fanged, feline in her stall. "Rujholla, do you so easily misplace half your soul?" The creature enquired.
((({
Savil sighed, and glanced over at Jaysen. The young Seneschal's Herald held back a struggling Tylendel from the current object of his manic ire. The young trainee was swearing, and threatening his now apparently former lover with bodily harm. The one time he'd been let lose, he'd thrown himself across the garden, screaming obscenities – and obviously intent upon causing his victim bodily harm. Only to be brought up short when Gala interposed herself between him and Van. Vanyel hadn't moved, only knelt on the floor and moaned like a dying thing, all of hell in his eyes. The boy looked like he'd been assaulted, and dragged backwards through hell, before being shown the heavens and given a truly odiferous duty and being thrown head first back into his battered body. He hadn't voluntarily said a word, since they'd pulled a struggling Tylendel off of him.
He'd said some things under truth spell, that while making little sense to Jaysen and Lancir, had greatly alarmed her. Something about the Star-eyed, Wyrsa, and Tylendel being needed if the Circle was to stop "Darkness" bringing about a "new magical Cataclysm." When pressed, he'd simply added, "The spell must be shifted," and fallen silent. Running a hand through her hair she glanced over at the Leshara who'd been cowed into milling silence, after attempting to erupt into an angry mob. The nearest Field Herald was already on his way to help deal with the mess Tylendel's attempt at revenge had created. Under different circumstances someone would stay to keep the Leshara in hand so they couldn't get up to mischief, however, these were not normal circumstances. Tylendel needed a mind healer – now, and Vanyel desperately needed the services of a healer as well. He also needed to be disconnected from Tylendel's damned gate before it killed him. They simply couldn't afford to waste time babysitting the Lashara, not when Herald Justin was only a few hours ride away.
She restrained her protégé while Jaysen gave Lancir a boost into Taver's saddle, and swung up onto Felar's back. Between the two of them they managed to manhandle the struggling, swearing trainee up onto Felar's back, where he lay draped across Jaysen's lap, like a misbehaving child about to reap the consequences of his actions.
: He will be alright sister. : Lancir said into her mind, his mental voice grim. : Beyond reason or not, he is still one of ours, and we will do what we can for him. Gala didn't repudiate him, so their must still be hope for him.:
She nodded, dragged Vanyel's arm across her shoulders, and led the boy to the gate entrance.
"We should move this to the palace grounds." Jaysen commented. "To many things could go wrong on the trip back otherwise." He switched seamlessly to mind speech. : If you want that one to have any mind left, we need to get him disconnected form the thing as soon as possible, and into the hands of a healer. I don't like how pale he's getting, that gate is drawing too much of the boy's life force. We could lose him.:
She nodded and let go of Vanyel, who slid to the ground in a boneless heep, and pulled the gate energies to herself with an intricate weaving gesture. They changed color from angry vermilion to white, as she made them her own and redirected them, bring them out in the grove temple. Jaysen and Felar thundered through the gate, taking their unwilling burden across with them. Gala and Taver shot through after them, leaving her, Vanyel and Kellen still on the other side. As soon as the way was cleared she reached down, grabbed her nephew and dragged him bodily through the gate, Kellen following at her heels.
She released Vanyel once they were all clear and turned her attention to collapsing the gate. "Jaysen, I need your help," she called, as the gate fought against her. Between the two of them they managed to collapse it, but instead of dissipating back into the air and ground it surged back down the pathway Tylendel had created and into Vanyel. She was to slow to stop it, though she could have sworn she saw Van visibly brace himself, as the energies arched back into him. He shrieked, voice high in agony and collapsed to the ground. He convulsed, his back bending into a painful arch, limbs thrashing, muscles spasming repetitively. He slammed his head into the ground, not once but twice. For two minutes Vanyel writhed upon the floor, before he crumpled to lay at her feet in a broken heap. The energy arched again, a much smaller jolt of electricity sparking between him and Tylendel. The other boy screamed and slid down from Felar's back. Collapsing on the floor at Gala's feet. The Companion nuzzled him desperately, as he began to sob brokenly.
"It's his fault!" Tylendel sobbed, burring his face in Gala's neck as the Companion dropped to the ground beside him. "If he hadn't… I… I could have done it. Staven, they murdered Staven. I could have avenged him… But he held my magic, forced it down." He babbled into her neck, as Gala tried to sooth him. His head snapped up, and his eyes landed on Vanyel who lay crumpled at her feet, and she winced at the raw, hatred in his eyes. "I will never forgive you for that!" he snarled. "Get out of here, no one wants you here! You ruin everything."
Savil sighed and along with Lancir, tried to talk some sense into the angry trainee while Jaysen went to fetch the healers. She was on her knees beside Tylendel, trying vainly to comfort him when Jaysen enquired. "Savil, were is your nephew?" her head snapped around, to where she'd left the boy, but he was gone.
((({
Vanyel ran through the pouring rain, gasping for breath. He was alone. Utterly alone, and there was nothing he could do to change that fact. Tylendel hated him. Would never forgive him for deigning him his vengeance. Yfandes would Choose another Herald, and he would be utterly alone until the Shadow Lover finally called him back into his embrace. Even then, things would never be the same. Steffen would have never existed, and even in the heavens he'd have to share Yfandes with whomever she Chose in his place.
He tried to fight down his emotions, but the 500 year old Herald was no match for the 15 year old boy's emotions and hormones. He sobbed and ran blindly through the night. He'd though nothing could be worse than losing Tylendel. The idea that there could be a worse pain then losing a lifebond to death, had seemed ridiculous to him in his youth. Now he knew better. Losing Yfandes was much, much worse. Heralds never outlived their Companions. It was a fact he'd known since shortly after he'd been chosen. He'd lived through the pain of repudiation, all those years ago when he'd shared Tylendel's emotions and experiences. Not having a bond of his own, his experience had been somewhat muted. In this timeline he'd never been Chosen, never bonded to Yfandes. But still the loss ached.
He felt empty, oh so empty. Yfandes was gone, and he was nowhere near complete without her. He was a shadow. It was simply too hard to go on without her. He'd survived the pain of a broken lifebond once. Yet, that pain however was nothing compared to the loss of Yfandes! He may have never been chosen in this timeline, but his very soul remembered what it had lost.
Oh gods he hurt.
He was different now then he'd been before. He was to… hard, to empty. He felt cold and alone, like he was being torn apart on the inside. He wasn't a part of the world around him anymore. Not truly, he existed but he simply wasn't. He was an empty shell. Yet he was drowning in a greif so profound, it had set him adrift. He felt lost, so utterly lost. Terribly small and worthless, he would never be happy again… and that made him angry. At least it would have, if he'd just had the energy to become angry.
He'd known grief in his life, and in the long centuries that he'd lived as a part of Sorrows. But he had never known anything like this. He had never imagined that grief, pain and loss like this could have ever existed. He felt as though someone had reached through his chest, taken hold of his still beating heart and torn it free of his body.
He was neither dead, nor alive. He lived because he had not died, yet he was dead because everything within the fragile shell of his human body was dead, his soul shattered and crippled by his profound loss. She was gone, he would never have her back and that hurt. He stumbled through the pouring rain, vaguely aware of the fact that his breath was becoming ragged with the effort. He sobbed uncontrollably and tried not to give in to the insidious little voice that urged him to curl up in a miserable ball and let exposure take him. The inane thought that at least if he fell in the Terilee River and drowned, he'd know more peace in this timeline then he had in the last.
He turned, heading for the bank. Easily navigating his way in the pouring rain. He'd lived here for so long he could have found his way blind. He had no intention of drowning himself. Appealing as the thought may have been. He simply wanted to find somewhere dry where he could nurse his hurts and try to remember why he had to go on, when he was so utterly alone. The ground sloped gently below his feet as he approached the river, intent upon finding the little bridge that led to the grove side of the river.
He was lost, so lost in his grief, the idea of running deliberately into the river, or worse turning around and making the same flying leap off of the bell tower that Tylendel had in his original timeline flashed like lightning across the tortured landscape of his mind. Thunder rumbled closer than before…
Something large slammed into him, carrying him off his feet, before he could get anywhere near the river.
:Damn it Chosen, I am not fishing you out of that damn river again!: Yfandes's raged into his mind. His head snapped around, and their eyes met as lightning danced madly around them. The wind howled like a soul in mortal fright, whipping around them at gale force, turning the usually placid river into a churning tempus of white rapids.
In that moment he stood in the eye of a hurricane, held fast against the churning storm by the impossibly vibrant blue of her eyes, and fell heart first into peace and love that wrapped around him like a warm blanket. The bond that had lain between them for centuries snapped back into place with a nearly audible crack, a whip of raw blue fire lashing across the surface of his soul, burning away the darkness and the soul deep agony of loss. His heart stuttered, and then began to beat. He was engulfed in a purely physical pain and he relished it the way a drowning man reveled in that first painful breath of air. Basking in the physical sensation like a cat in the sun as his very soul knitted back together. He was glad he was already upon the ground or he would have fallen, his knees incapable of holding his weight, yet he felt so light he was almost certain his soul would float away.
"Fandes," he gasped his voice a broken, breathy sob, and scrambled to his knees to fling himself at the glorious white angle in equine form. Clinging to her neck in what had to be the most awkward embrace in the history of awkward embraces, he sobbed like a lost child finally come home.
AN
Rujholla - sister