Chapter 3
Yfandes lowered herself to the ground and nudged Vanyel towards her back, urging him to mount. Alarm flashed through her when she realized – the boy lacked the strength necessary to drag himself up onto her back. She'd forgotten how badly the catastrophe that had given him his powers had affected him on a purely physical level. She could drag him back into the relative shelter of one of the grottos, like she had in their original timeline, but in truth, Van needed warm, more then he needed dry at the moment. Still, she wasn't willing to surrender him to the other Heralds. Maybe in the morning, but not right now. The lifebond between him and Tylendel was still intact. Which was an improvement over the last time, however, the boy was radiating hatred and pain. Having blasted the channel between him and Vanyel wide open with his earlier stunt, he was in danger of drowning Vanyel in his malice and other negative emotions.
Vanyel didn't need that right now, not when his channels were raw still bleeding wounds. To make matters worse, Vanyel was suffering from the truly traumatic effect of having their own bond vanish. Regardless of how brief the loss had been, it had caused soul deep wounds that were, frankly, far more shattering and debilitating then Tylendel's death had ever been. She'd been insulated by the strength of the Herd. Vanyel hadn't had that protection, and had suffered the full effects of a Herald who'd lost his Companion.
A part of his soul had literally died when their bond had vanished. That was why Heralds simply didn't survive the loss of their companions. Being repudiated, although traumatic, was less damaging to the soul then having the bond vanish. A Herald could recover from being reputed, as could the Companion, because part of the repudiation was the unwinding of the bond. It left both parties bereft for a very long time, and they would always mourn the loss. However it was not the soul shattering experience of having a part of their soul literally die as the bond that vanished. It was an effect that Vanyel would never truly recover from.
It happened from time to time that the Monarch's Own Herald survived their Companion. In such cases it was only the arrival of the new Grove-born that held them to this life. Just as duty, was the only thing that had barred Vanyel's path to the afterlife. Like those Heralds before him, there would always be something "otherworldly" about her Chosen now because a part of their souls were still together in the afterlife.
The quick, reestablishing of the bond between them was quite literally the only thing that stood between her Chosen and what would have turned into a lifetime of suicidal ideation. Thankfully, the bond between Herald and Companion was soul deep. It didn't mean that the wounds left by the trauma of their separation would heal immediately, there would be no miraculous healing for her Chosen. What it did mean was that come morning Vanyel would be as firmly bonded to her as he had been before the Star-eyed shattered their bond.
Speaking of which, if she ever saw that half-wit god again, she was going to have some choice words for her. Clearly the starry eyed idiot didn't understand the bond she'd chosen to mess with, or she'd have unraveled the bond, rather than attempting to make it so the bond had never existed.
She shifted, and tried again to get her Chosen onto her back, but the boy was too badly injured, and he'd lost the years of muscle memory that had allowed Vanyel to pull himself into her saddle when he was drugged up to his eyebrows and on death's door. She was going to need help to get him to the safety of Companions' Stable. The problem was she needed to keep him with her, and she didn't know who to trust.
: Taver, I need your help. : She called, her mental voice laden with worry. She sent him an image of the bridge over the river, so he knew where to come.
It didn't take long for the stallion to show up, his mane plastered against his eloquently arched neck. He paused a few feet away from her ears cocked slightly forward. : If you had told me you had found the boy, I could have brought others so that they could take the boy indoors. :
She didn't bother trying to explain herself. Desperate to make him understand, she simply flung her memories at him. He emitted a short almost squeal of shock and half reared in alarm. His nostrils flared and his ears snapped full forward, after a moment he snorted and shook his head. : Let's get him into the sable, being away from you will do him more harm than good right now. :
: I can't get him onto my back, he's too weak. : She replied.
He cocked his head and examined the huddled, boneless heap of flesh in a near comatose mass at her side, more closely.
: Come Herald-Mage Vanyel, Let's get you out of the Rain. : He said in a firm tone and shoved Vanyel up onto her back with his nose as if he performed such tasks all the time.
She rose to her feet with deliberate slowness, balancing the now limp Herald upon her back with ease. Taver stayed nearby, ready to offer his assistance with her now unconscious burden if it became necessary.
: You are right to keep him by you until the bond between you heals, little sister. I fear the wounds to his soul will take much longer to heal. : He sighed.
She flicked an ear at him by way of answer and kept walking. They slipped into the stables a few minutes later and she made her way to her stall where she knelt in the thick straw and slid out from under Vanyel's scant weight.
Vanyel shifted and snuggled up against her side, tucking himself instinctively against her, as he had so many centuries ago in life. She turned her head and nuzzled his wet hair with her nose. It felt strange to be back in the past now that Noctis had helped her to restore her memories. Nothing would ever be the same again, she knew that. Tylendel lived, Vanyel had had a part of his soul torn from him, buying them a chance to change the future and save Valdemar from the cataclysm ahead. For now he was too weak to hold up his own shields, come morning she'd be able to hold them for him at a distance. Still she didn't like the idea of letting him out of her sight so soon. He shivered and she stretched out her neck nosing the straw up around him to the best of her ability.
The sound of one silver hoof striking the side of her stall with a gentle softness, reminiscent enough of a soft knock that the action could only be deliberate drew her attention. Dancer stood at the entrance to her stall, a thick winter blanket dangling from his teeth.
: I thought you could use this. : Her son said in a perfectly mild tone of voice, though she knew him well enough to sense his concern. : I can't believe they just vanished the bond and expected him to survive the experience. : He added, laying the blanket over her Chosen with the same deliberate gentleness he would have used with a newborn foal. : It is good to see you made whole at last. Still it is odd, knowing that from your perspective we have all made our individual ways to our temporary rests. :
: It is odd to be back,: she confirmed in an equally mild tone. : How is your Chosen? :
He snorted, :Driving me to distraction already. I fear teaching her to ride to truly be a lost cause. :
She sent him a brief flash of her amusement, before returning her attention to her Chosen, grasping the hem of the deep blue blanket, she pulled it a bit higher around Vanyel's shoulders, remembering his tendency to feel the cold more than most in life. : Thank you, for your thoughtfulness. :
((({
Savil groaned and sank into a chair beside Tylendel's bedside. Despite the rain Gala stood in the shelter of a hastily erected lean-to, just outside the door leading into the garden. The boy was curled up in a miserable heap. He'd finally stopped muttering to himself and looked to be falling asleep.
She ran a hand through her hair, and contemplated what to do about her nephew. Vanyel had gone along with Tylendel's mad plan, but only to a degree. She was thankful for that. She shuddered to think about what could have happened if one of them hadn't come to their senses. Still, the outcome was that Tylendel felt betrayed and was currently, loudly, denying any feelings beyond hatred and disgust for his former lover. She certainly couldn't put the two in the same room, not with how unstable Tylendel currently was.
It could only be bad for Tylendel's emotional state.
Tylendel needed his to be close to his Companion now. As for Van, she'd either move him into Tylendel's old room, so that Lendel could remain in close proximity of his Companion, or if he could not abide living under the same roof as the boy he currently saw as having betrayed him, she'd see about finding the boy alternate accommodations.
She doubted she'd need to send him home.
Though she would if it came down to that.
She had come to care for her nephew but Tylendel had to come first. He was her son in all but blood and as a Heraldic- trainee, his care was her first priority, Vanyel simply wasn't as important.
It was unfortunate, but Heralds had to remain neutral, even when family was involved.
The door opened to admit Mardic, who currently bore a closer resemblance to a half drowned street rat, then a Heraldic Trainee. "We've found him." He informed her
She started to rise, only to be gently pressed back into her chair by the still lingering Healer who had once been her lover. "You are exhausted," he informed her, in a voice that was firm but gentle. "The others can bring him in without you. You'll do the boy no good if you exhaust yourself further."
Mardic shook his head, "The Companions found him," he clarified. "They've closed ranks around him, won't let anyone near him. Hellfires, they won't even let anyone near the stall he's currently occupying. One of them damn near took Tantras's hand off, when he managed to force his way through the living wall of Companions and into the stall. They've got him wrapped up in blankets, and firmly tucked between two Companions for warmth. My Forten told me, we can't even begin to understand what we have on our hands and for now it's best to leave him in their care, assuming we want him to live." He paused eyes gaining the unfocussed look they'd all learned to associate with mindspeech.
"What in The Lady's name?" Savil demanded sharply. Sharing a glance with Jayson and rising, to her feet, back stiff, ready to march across the grounds to Companions' stable, and demand an explanation. Perfectly willing to drag the errant boy back into the palace where the healers could take a proper look at him.
: Chosen, You should not!: Kellen's mindvoice was thick with alarm.
: The boy is going to catch his death of Pneumonia, : she replied sharply. : Besides love we need answers, and Tylendel is in no condition to provide them right now. :
:Pneumonia, backlash shock and the trauma of his gifts being blasted open will be the least of his problems if Yfandes doesn't get him bonded to her properly!: the voice that rang across her mind was sharp, alien, and undeniably male. She glanced over at Jaysen and found the young seneschal's Herald wincing at the sheer volume of the angry broad-send. : The boy may as well be bleeding out from soul deep wounds, so let me put this into perspective for you, the tragic and violent loss of a lifebond would be less damaging then what the boy has gone through. Leave him be, tomorrow is soon enough to have the healers look at him. All of you go back to your duties!:
:I suggest you listen to Taver, Chosen.: Kellen reproved softly
Stunned beyond measure, Savil sank back into her chair.
((({
Vanyel struggled up out of the arms of sleep. It was a distinctly odd feeling, waking up back in his own body. When he'd first, fallen into this time, he'd been too preoccupied with the crisis at hand to truly take stock of the inherent differences and limitations that resulted from being corporeal for the first time in half a millennia.
He felt smothered somehow, like his skin was too tight.
Well Herald, you did volunteer for this. He paused, his very soul screaming in horror and need as he remembered everything he had just given up.
Still half asleep, his soul screamed in panicked desperate need. "Fandes," he screamed with mind and voice. Disconsolate in the knowledge that the bond between them was gone, forfeited for the chance to buy Valdemar the time it needed to survive the events of the future.
Love and reassurance washed over him across the forfeited bond, shocking him with its gentle warmth. The brush of a velvety soft muzzle across his cheek drew his attention away from the burning agony that was his current emotional and physical state.
:I'm here, My Chosen.: Fandes murmured into his mind. The gentle caress of her mind against his a soothing balm against the hot, burning expanse of his soul. :I told you once, I would never leave you.:
He shifted, curled the fingers of his left hand around a handful of her mane, and surrendered himself back into the arms of sleep. As he drifted off again, he realized that he was curled up against his Companion using her shoulder as a pillow as he had so many, many times over the curse of their long relationship. A second Companion pressed against him, so that he lay cradled against Fandes' shoulder and the great curve of the stranger's back. "Who?" he enquired softly.
: I am Dancer,: Yfandes' son said into his mind his tone gentle.
"F'des son," he murmured, slurring like a drunkard "S' good t' see you again."
Surprise filtered across Vanyel's mind before the stallion spoke again. : Rest Herald, we will be standing watch.:
Van started to nod, but stopped when the motion made the world spin. Instead, he rubbed his cheek against Yfandes's velvety soft shoulder, snuggled into her side and surrendered himself to sleep.
((({
: This could be problematic,: Dancer commented, his tone deceptively mild.
Fandes sighed, : I had forgotten just how bad this particular case of backlash shock really was.: She replied. : It's hard to believe but it's worse this time around. At least there was a filter between his mind and his mouth last time. :
: That is likely due to having some idiot godling simply vanish his bond to you.: Dancer responded, mental voice thick with anger and sorrow. : If he didn't suffer from some sort of mental illness before, he's likely to now.:
:He tended to brood, before.: Yfandes confirmed, : He's strong, he'll pull through. He will not walk this path alone. : She added in a firm tone, nuzzling the sleeping Herald as she spoke: I won't let him walk alone, I learned my lesson when Tylendel …fell in my timeline. If he can't walk the path that's been set before him on his own, then I will carry him. I will not be Gala!:
Dancer flicked his ears towards her, : Gala should have known better, she is old enough to know better, and she should have helped her Chosen. I do not know what happened in the original timeline, however, we have all learned our lesson with what just happened. If we have to knock our Chosen down and sit on them to keep them from doing something idiotic we will. Gala was lucky Vanyel had the knowledge and skills needed to restrain, Tylendel until she and the other Heralds could get to the scene.:
: It was lucky for Tylendel and Gala, however it will cause problems for Vanyel and Yfandes. : Taver informed them, sticking his nose over the low half wall of the stall. : Vanyel has no business knowing how to do what he did, at this time. There will be questions.:
Yfandes gave a purely mental groan. That hadn't occurred to her yet.
: Maybe we will get lucky and the Circle will simply think it was desperation mixed with whatever the hell Tylendel did to the lifebond that allowed Vanyel to do what he did. : Dancer commented.
Taver paused, : That could work, : he replied after a moment, : I will ensure the others spread that theory to their Chosen. That should be enough for the circle. :
Yfandes sighed, : Taver, there is another problem that I am not sure how to handle.:
Taver's ears flicked forward in interest. : Say on little sister. :
: Vanyel is not the first Herald to lose his Companion, nor even the first to survive the experience. : She informed the Grove-born, and let him make his own conclusions.
She saw the exact moment the stallion understood her meaning.
: Aye, : He replied, tone more curious then morose. : But he is the first to find themselves in this situation. The situation is different little sister, the others to survive such an experience were all Monarch's Own, and another of the Grove-born always came for them. We held them to the land of the living until the bond could solidify, despite their desire to join their former partner in their rest. Why do you bring it up now? :
:I am holding him to me now, just as you have held the occasional Monarch's Own Herald to this world when half their heart and soul, had already departed with their first Companion. But Taver such actions have consequences, and leave a visible mark upon the Herald. How will we explain the aura?:
Taver's ears twitched, and his nostrils pinched, in the closest a Companion could come to a groan of frustration. : We will think of something. : He replied at last.
Dancer shifted and flicked an ear in Taver's direction, : What is the visible mark and the aura the two of you speak of?: he enquired after a moment.
: He has a foot in both worlds now, he'll give off an aura of being somewhat otherworldly now. As if he's been Fey touch, or walked the heavens. : Yfandes replied sadly.
: So… spooky?: Dancer clarified.
Taver bobbed his head, : You could say that yes.:
: I have a plain man's notion. : Dancer informed them in a soft almost embarrassed tone. : According to Yfandes, her Chosen is a mage? :
: He was First Herald Mage in the Circle, : Yfandes replied her mental voice full of pride in her Chosen, but not in the least boastful. : They said he had more power than any five Herald Mages combined. :
Dancer's ears flicked to her in acknowledgement. : Use that then, let the circle and others think they are just sensing the truly ridiculous amount of power the boy wields. :
: That is not a bad idea, : Taver commented. : In fact, it just might work. The citizens will most likely think it's because he is a mage anyway. The Circle will take their cue from their Companions. : He turned and walked out of the stall he'd been temporarily occupying. He paused, and his mind gently caressed her own and his voice when he finally spoke was full of calm reassurance. : There has been no death of his soul, little sister, you needn't worry about that. There is a deep bleeding gash in soul and mind left from the Goddess's meddling, but there has been no death. He will heal, and fully given time. Though he will be different. He will fear losing you, the way no other Herald will fear losing their Companion. I would recommend he keep a part of you with him always. Regardless of how fey wearing Companion hair jewelry makes the Great Herald Mage look. As to the aura, he will have it, aye, but not for the reason you think. It is true, half a Heralds heart and soul departs for the afterlife if they survive the loss of their Companion, but he has not lost you. Heralds, were not made to see the afterlife and recall it, little sister. Yet he has lived five centuries as a guardian of our northern border, seen the heavens and returned with his memories intact. That has changed him, as it has changed you. :
((({
Savil sighed as she made her way into Companion's stable with Healer Andrel. Jaysen was currently watching over Tylendel while she went to collect her wayward nephew. Kellen had informed her ten minutes ago that, it was "safe for her to bring a Healer to the stables."
Savil had to admit that the whole situation was annoying. She was still trying to deal with the mess, the boys had made of things and there, frankly, were not enough hours in the day. The fact that she had to trek out to the stables, on the heels of one of what were quickly becoming Tylendel's infamous fits of temper, was aggravating in the extreme. In the past two day's Tylendel had thrown several, horrendous temper tantrums. The situation did not make her happy. She was about to take the boy over her knee.
She'd never realized just how, emotionally overwrought Tylendel was. Though she assumed it was a side effect of his empathy. He had, she now realized, an alarming tendency to disregard the rules, coupled with the bad habit of blundering into things without fully thinking them through. She had once said, she would have to put him in for a position as an envoy when he earned his Whites, due to how twisted his mind was. Now she saw the down side of that cunning mind, if Tylendel didn't want to follow a rule he simply found a way to work around it. She wasn't sure how much of that was a result of the recent trauma he'd endured and how much of that she'd simply failed to notice.
She sighed, and reminded herself for the fifteenth time this afternoon that this whole bloody mess was not entirely Vanyel's fault, even if he had played a crucial role in both creating the mess and apparently in stopping Tylendel from making it exponentially larger.
This whole mess was not the boy's fault, even if a few of the other Heralds were inclined to place the blame on his shoulders, since it was obvious Tylendel had been blinded by a manic rage at the death of his twin. At the moment she was one of the few Herald-Mages inclined to look charitably on the boy. It was an odd situation, particularly given the fact that according to her own Kellen, and Lancir's Taver, the Companions had one and all sided with Vanyel. Those bonded to Heralds already in Whites, where abrading her, for failing in her duties to Tylendel after his brother's death, and they were all citing mental and emotional abuse at the hands of his family as the reason why Vanyel had become too "emotionally dependent upon Tylendel to even dream of standing up to him under normal circumstances."
She honestly didn't know how she felt about that. They were right that she could have handled Tylendel better after Staven's death. At the very least she should have insisted he see a mindhealer. He never would have been able to hide that obsession from Lancir. Still better late than never she supposed. She should probably get Vanyel to a mindhealer as well, she had warned Tylendel that the boy was becoming too dependent on him, but had allowed herself to be convinced that he'd grow out of it in the space of a few years. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't, but one thing was clear… Tylendel wanted nothing to do with him at the moment. The boy had said some pretty vicious things about Vanyel in the last two days. Even going so far as to not only wash his hands of the younger boy, but to loudly proclaim that Savil should have protected him from Vanyel's "conniving mind." He'd also muttered several very insulting statements about the younger boy's character and proclivities.
Something Savil found to be vaguely hypocritical, in the face of Tylendel's own.
She froze at the sight of Vanyel, curled up between not one but two Companions, and draped in several deep blue, horse blankets. He looked like death warmed over. Hell, she'd seen men dead a week that looked better! He was pale, his face pinched with pain and a profound grief, she couldn't understand.
"Lendel, m' s'rry." He slurred, like a drunk into Yfandes side. "M' f'ult, it my fault."
Andrel pushed past her and into the stall carefully approaching the two Companions who cradled the boy as a parent cradled a fevered infant. With a start of pure shock she recognized the second Companion as Taver, and wondered why he'd bothered to become involved.
: Yfandes, requests that I inform you that she does not care if you are his aunt, nor does she particularly care how dear you are to me and Vanyel, if you hurt her Chosen, she will protect him. : Kellen paused for a moment before adding. : She was far less polite about it, truth be told Chosen. Be careful, the boy has been through more than you know and Yfandes is understandably overprotective at the moment. :
She inclined her head in acknowledgement, and went to her knees beside Andrel in the straw. "Oh Lad," she whispered as the boy mumbled apologies to someone called Stef for the life he would never be able to lead, and the good he would never do. "You're a right mess, right now aren't you?"
Vanyel's only response was to mutter about wards he should have strengthened, wards he'd promised her he'd strengthen. She blinked in confusion and turned her attention to Andrel in alarm. "What is wrong with him?" she demanded.
"Fever," Andrel replied shortly, his voice detached and his eyes unfocussed. "He's got the worst case of backlash I have ever seen and… there's something else. I don't understand it. I've got a line to him, follow it please. I don't believe what I saw and I want a confirmation."
She nodded, and reached for Andrel's soothing presence, meshing her aura with his and followed the line out and down into Vanyel. His mind swarmed and turned in turmoil. He was stricken with grief. An image replayed over and over in his mind, alternating with others in a churning tangled mass. Tylendel his face twisted with anguish and grief, kneeling beside the ruined head of his Companion while Wyrsa oozed around them turning towards the frightened huddled mass that was the Leshara. Tylendel leaping from the bell tower, face a twisted mask of pain. Ice closing in around them, four black clad mages standing before him, the icy walls of saw-back pass closing in around him as a single white clad, figure astride a Companion spoke a single word into the seemingly endless void between them "No." A young Bard with fiery red hair, sitting in the courtyard of Forest Reach an odd instrument in his hands singing to an audience of women. A child's voice called "Uncle Van, Van uncle Van, as a small whirlwind launched itself into his arms. Tylendel very much alive, clinging to his companion as he spat hateful words at him.
The images flashed before her as she tried vainly to shake them off, finally she slipped past them and into a dark grief filled void, where the depth of his emotion threatened to consume them both. She had known the depth of Tylendel's feelings but it seemed Vanyel's ran just as deep. What threw her back with a shock like a fierce blow was not the depth of his emotions, nor what was obviously images fueled by fever induced delirium. No what stunned her the most was the depth of the gifts the boy now claimed. Van had all of the Heraldic Gifts, and the channels had somehow been blasted open to their fullest. The boy had mindspeech, fetching, foresight, empathy and enough firestarting to ensure he never had to use a tinderbox again. But what shone through like a roaring flame in the dark of night, was the all-important, coveted Mage-Gift. Hell the Boy even had a touch of the Bardic Gift! The boy had more gifts then any five full Heralds, and all of his channels were raw bleeding wounds. It was a wonder he hadn't gone mad from the pain alone. But there was something else lurking in the darkness, Tylendel's voice echoed down a bond that glowed red, with anger and hate. The words and feelings were muted and soft, garbled by the intensely blue glowing shield that strived to keep them out. His Companion trying desperately to shield him from his lifebonded's pain, anguish, and irrational hatred. But the worst of it was a raw bleeding gash, that his companion was holding together, her presence on it like a soothing balm. Reaching out from the boy was the frayed end of another bond, it fluttered in the nonexistent wind, open and raw.
"Great Good Gods!" She demanded "what could have done that?" she paused, ignoring her former love in favor of contemplating the young boy in front of her. That link between him and Tylendel, had it always been there? Or was it the result of Tylendel's assault on the Leshara? And what of the images in his mind? The boy had no business knowing what a Wysera was, let alone what they looked like and that a pack of the things could fell a Companion. What did it all mean?
: The child is lifebonded to Tylendel. : Kellen informed her impatiently. : He is drowning in Tylendel's malice. As to the rest of your concerns, the boy has foresight. He saw what would have happened had he not stopped his lover. He is having trouble keeping the possibilities straight. Yfandes is doing what she can for him, but until he heals fully, her touch hurts as much as anyone else's. We can't give him to the healers or Tylendel will drive the boy to suicide with his malice within a day. Neither can we keep him here much longer. He is ill and we cannot care for him. Not as he needs. :
((({
Yfandes sighed and shifted a little closer to the wall, and tried not to openly show her contempt for Gala, but at the same time she had no wish to touch the other Mare. Stupidity might be catching. She had tried reminding herself that everyone made mistakes, but Gala's had cost Tylendel his life in the original timeline, and had resulted in injuries to her own Chosen. Yfandes sighed and stamped one silver hoof in frustration, she could feel Vanyel's turmoil, and hear the malice filtering past the bond between the boys, even as she tried desperately to shield Van from its affects. Still his channels were raw, and his mind too fevered to bring up his shields on his own. She could and was shielding him from every outside mind, aware of how much even her own mind against his own hurt him right now. But there was little she could do against Tylendel.
If only that damned Healer had been willing to let them keep Van in the stable, proximity was making Tylendel's voice stronger, his emotions coming across the lifebond more vibrantly then they had in the safety of Companions Stable.
Abruptly something changed, Malice and Hatred flooded down the lifebond swamping her shields smashing through them like a tidal wave against a sand bag wall. Pain flared down her bond to Vanyel. Terror and panic griped him, as he fought for breath, the Herald-Mage lashed out instinctively, raw channels screaming with the effort, even as he pulled the blow.
:Van! : She screamedwith mind and voice, ignoring Gala's frantic cry or :Tylendel:
Inside Vanyel let out an agonized wail, a sound like a tortured animal in its death throws. The ground shook, the walls trembled, the palace foundations rocked, and the very ground seemed to convulse. It pitched and rolled with enough force that she was thrown from her hooves into Gala. She didn't stop to think, scrambling to all four hooves she flung herself at the garden door, carrying it off its hinges, skidding and sliding on the undulating floor as she forced her way through the room Vanyel had once shared with that man and into the common room, seeking out the bedroom that had once belonged to Tylendel. That was where her Chosen was and that was where she needed to be.
She leapt, gracefully over Tylendel who lay groaning in the doorway where Vanyel had thrown him, amidst a veritable explosion of feathers and shredded fabric. She paid the little shit no heed and skidded into the smaller chamber. Ignoring the Herald- Mages frantically trying to pin down her chosen she lunged for the bed, skidding when the foundations rocked again. Hindquarters skewing as her front hooves slid one way and her rear hooves slid the other she smashed into the wardrobe, ignoring the bright flare of pain she reached out her neck, shoved the two heralds off of Vanyel, grabbed her Chosen by the back of his night shirt and dragged him off the bed.
The resulting impact with the floor jarred Vanyel enough to give him something to focus on past his panic attack, and gave him an avenue out of the pain loop he'd managed to become stuck in. Untrained, he never would have managed it on his own. With luck Savil and Jaysen would simply think she'd shocked him awake. Having managed to pull Van out of his panic attack and the resulting pain loop she reared up pivoted on her hind hooves and dropped to all fours. Ears pinned and upper lip curled back, she dropped her head, snaked her neck, scraped one silver hoof against the floor, and advanced on Tylendel, one menacing step at a time.
: If you value your life, : She spat in a viciously loud broad send. : get out of my sight! :