Chapter 7

The old woman looked up from her weaving when the door opened letting in the draft. Her eyes fell on the great cat that prowled through the door. "Lir," she said firmly. "Do not be rude."

The cat paused briefly turning his head to meet her gaze. He dipped his head marginally, and kicked the door closed with a single deft motion. : Apologies Liren: he replied sardonically. Making his way over to the young man's side, he flopped down ungracefully. Body blurring like softened clay, A Black wolf lay in his place.

"Lir, is it done?" The man asked reaching down to stroke the creature's back.

:Aye,: the cat turned wolf replied mildly, his form blurring once again, until a large black bear lay before the hearth. :I have completed my task Warrior. I have found the boy and I know the soul that must be crafted to compliment his. I have felted the Earth magic so that it clings to the man's. Our children will be given the chance to rise again from those who were unmade and remade eons ago. When the time comes the boy like all of our children must chose to accept his Tahlmorra. Either way he will do so with a Lir at his side. Pity, where he born to the clans, I would have suggested we craft him one of the Winged ones. A Raven perhaps. Alas, in this there is but one Lir form we can give him.: He turned his head to look at the brown man. His body shifting again so that a great boar lay in place of the bear. : What have you to say in this Hunter?:

"I trust your assessment Lir Maker." The brown man responded mildly, completely un-phased by the cat's persistent shape changing. "What of you Cripple, Weaver? Are we all of an accord with this plan?"

Weaver glanced down at her weaving, a mild expression upon her face. "I can see no alternative." She replied. "left to his own devices, the boy will rise, but his fall will bring about the death of many."

Cripple shifted slightly. "Lir Maker, has never been wrong when choosing the best lir for the warrior in question. He and Warrior have crafted our children's other selves for centuries. I see no reason to doubt him now. For all he seems to have spent an inordinate amount of time as Noctis of late."

Warrior inclined his head. "Very well." He blue softly on the small carving he held in his hands, freeing each splotch, stripe and spot from its coating of wood dust. "If you would old friend?" he enquired holding his creation out to his Lir.

Lir lifted his great head, body blurring once again until the strange black cat, its silver marking shinning in the firelight. His ridiculously long incisors prominent as he opened his mouth and breathed into the little carving.

The carving blurred softly, slight changes being made to its overall form. It took on a soft grayish silver color with a white belly. Deeper gray framing the face and tipping the ears. The markings ranged in color from smoke gray to dappled silver. The little carving opened blue eyes and stretched once, shaking itself as if to shed water from carved fur.

: Na'Totha,: Noctis said after a moments regard. The little carving blinked luminous blue eyes at him. :Tahlmorra lujhala mei wicca, Cheysu. Will you help him to divine his?:

The carving blinked, and curled up upon the warrior's palm. :Y'ja'hai:

:Cheysuli i'halla shansu, Na'Totha.: Noctis whispered to the newly crafted soul. : Rest until your time is come.: watching as the little carving stilled, becoming nothing more than wood once again.

Warrior rose from his place upon the floor of the croft and set the little carving among it's fellows upon a low shelf. Seven lir waiting to go out into the world. it was rare that the lir rejected their destiny, but it was their right to choose so. He was glad this one had chosen to take up her Tahlmorra. With luck she would be one of many more to come.

((({ })))

Savil sighed as she watched her nephew with his Companion. The boy was shaping up to be quite the Herald. She knew foresight was one of his gifts but he also seemed to be developing a skill of turning up exactly where he was needed and when. Just a few weeks ago, he and Yfandes had had taken a pleasure ride only to show up at a small holding in time to save a family from the grasp of a queen colddrake. When left at a small village for his own protection he'd managed to touch the valley node and save them all before the adults had a chance to return. He'd been badly injured in that last one, but still for a boy who had barely any training, he had done well, and his injuries could have been much much worse.

Still his sensitivity to gate energy and to the magical health of the land around him was alarming. Moondance had deliberately taken the boy into uncleansed lands, to a place where the magic was twisted and corrupted. The boy had become violently ill, and his mood had shifted as swiftly and violently as the terrain. His mood still hadn't fully stabilized despite their return to the safety of the vale.

Moondance maintained that it was the easiest way to expose the boy to the dangers of his magical powers and his own unique weaknesses. Still she wished they had waited until the boy had more experience. More time to become accustomed to his gifts. The last thing they needed was a mage that powerful living in terror of himself. The boy was likely to become a hermit out of fear of running into a place that was magically twisted and losing himself.

She'd been rather surprised when his reaction to the ordeal had been to immediately seek out his Companion and attempt to use her as an emotional barometer. He'd clung to her throughout the entire event, using his bond to her to regulate himself. Though he'd been drenched in a cold sweat despite the snow by the time they'd finally called it a day and come home.

The boy and his Companion were currently in a small clearing deep within the vale, moving in perfect sync with one another. It was an amazing sight. It never would have occurred to her to spend time with Kellen in such a manor. But Vanyel made it look both graceful and natural as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his companion and shifted through a series of complicated yet eloquent ground maneuvers. At first she had been seriously confused watching the boy and his Companion match steps. When Vanyel had dipped gracefully to the side, only to have Yfandes stretch out her forelegs and toss her head in a manner that followed Vanyel's movements almost exactly she'd realized they were Dancing. Incredulity had followed, and then amusement.

She was not entirely sure how to handle the conversation she needed to have with him. His relationship with Tylendel had been an important one to him until very recently. According to Kellen the boy was grieving the traumatic loss of a lifebond. Strange when one considered the fact that Tylendel was still alive. Still the relationship between them had been one where Tylendel led and Vanyel followed. It was hard to place the Vanyel she'd known just a few short months ago against the one he'd rapidly become since his Choosing.

Vanyel was growing into a strong young man. One she had difficulty believing would ever blindly follow anyone. Yet he still had moments of debilitating self-doubt. She was pleased to note that in those times he turned not to another person but to his Companion. Yfandes had him well in hand. It was clear that with her help he would be worthy of his Whites. Sooner rather than later, she thought. Vanyel was devouring anything and everything magical his teachers could throw at him. Showing a side of scholastic overachievement she never would have guessed he possessed.

He was quick on his feet in terms of magical progress. It had taken him some timed to gain a measure of control, but once he had he'd started improving by leaps and bounds. It was like he already knew what they were teaching him and just needed a quick refresher course. He was not the best when it came to complicated ritual work, seeming to lack the patience required to truly master it. He was proficient enough, but when it came to fast think on your feet spell casting and abstract solutions the boy already had no equal.

Still she was not sure how he was going to take the news she had for him. In two weeks' time she was going to be leaving him and Yfandes alone with the Tayledras. That wasn't the problem. Vanyel had taken to their culture as if he had been raised with it. He already spoke the language fluently, though occasionally he used an odd phrase or pronounced something incorrectly. He sounded almost as though he'd originally spoke Tayledras, moved to the planes and immersed himself in Shin'a'in culture for about a decade before moving back, only to occasionally jumble the languages.

It was an odd effect.

Moondance, Starwind, and Kellen all told her not to worry about it. Still it was decidedly odd. Despite the occasional odd turn of phrase and oddly pronounced word, Vanyel seemed more comfortable in K'Treva then he ever had in Haven or Fort Reach for that matter. No leaving him alone for an extended period of time was not the issue. Moondance, Starwind, Kellen and Yfandes all agreed Vanyel was going to be fine. He was ready to be alone. The problem was that when she came back she planned to do so with Tylendel in toe. They had no way of knowing how long it would take for K'Treva's healers to fix the wreck Tylendel had become. Just as they had no way of knowing how his presence would affect Vanyel's mental health, or vice versa.

Yfandes assured them that she could handle Vanyel, but had warned them that Lifebonded or not Herald trainee or not she would protect her Chosen. Kellen had commented on the fact that Tylendel's last attempt on Vanyel's life had resulted in Yfandes losing all respect for the boy's Companion. Additionally, the mare had informed her that the Herd was trying to figure out what to do about Gala, and the situation that had been created, largely, due to the Companion's negligence and Vanyel's interference.

The usual punishments could not be meted out to Tylendel once his health was recovered due to his Companion, imprisonment was not an option. Tylendel was still a Herald as long as Gala would have him, but their needed to be a punishment. Vanyel himself was not exempt from this fact, he'd been instrumental in the chaos Tylendel had caused.

Tylendel who had not been in his right mind and Vanyel who had been emotionally abused to the point that he'd had a snowflakes' chance in a desert of standing against his lifebonded. The Circle and the crown were unsure of how to proceed.

She sighed, Vanyel was making real progress and she worried that would be hampered by Tylendel's presence. Watching the boy with his Companion gave her hope that they could move past this new hurtle. She could only hope that the Vale would provide Tylendel with a safe place to heal. Could only hope Gala could keep her Chosen under control long enough for him to survive the next few years. Kellen had assured her Yfandes had not been exaggerating.

If Tylendel made another attempt on Vanyel's life, she would eliminate the treat. Savil tried not to groan at the thought of what a disaster that battle would be. Without Taver present to break up the fight that would result, there would at the very least be broken bones before the mares were done with each other.

She took a deep breath to steady herself and reached both mentally and physically for Kellen. The mare had wondered up to her side a few minutes ago and she placed a hand on her beautifully arched neck seeking the comfort only her Companion could give. "Vanyel," she called softly. "Youngling, I need a word."

((({ })))

:Chosen?:

Vanyel shifted slightly, moving out of his meditative pose, and turning his head to look up at her. "I am alright." He assured her, "Merely thinking."

:Brooding you mean.:

Vanyel smiled slightly at that. "Alright, brooding." He laughed. "I am unsure of where to go from here." He paused, glanced around and then deliberately switched to mindspeach. :Savil will be returning to Valdemar in the morning, and we are to remain. I do not know how long it will take her to convince the Circle to release Tylendel into her care.: He hesitated. :I miss Stef.: he admitted after a brief pause. : I miss him so much it hurts. Tylendel both is and is not Stef. I meant it when I said that Lendel and I never had the time to fight. I spent five centuries with Stef at my side 'Fandes. How do I go on without him? Tylendel is not the boy I remember. The Lendel I knew would never have… : Vanyel stopped and looked down at his arms. At the ugly and rather prominent scares he would bear for the rest of his life. :I do not know this Tylendel.: He said mildly, : but I cannot help comparing him to Stefan. Stef and I share five centuries of history, I miss him and I want him by my side, but wishing Stefan was here? To do that I would have to wish Tylendel dead.: He shook his head, and trailed off.

Yfandes shifted, elegantly folding in upon herself until she lay at his back, a living breathing backrest. He leaned into comfort and warmth provided by her mere presence and tried to come to terms with what his life had become. Not for the first time, he wished he had left this particular crisis to someone else. Fandes turned her head and blew into his ear. Which tickled, he snorted and gently shoved her nose away. "Stop that," He said, trying not to laugh. She nuzzled him, content in the knowledge that she'd managed to distract him from his brooding.

He gave in to childish impulse and tore up a handful of grass, tossing it at her in retaliation. She squealed with surprise ears flicking in disbelief. Snorting she shook her head sending bits of grass flying. :Feeling better?: she enquired once the last of the grass was free of her forelock.

He smiled at her, "quite." He said aloud, reaching over to gently tweak one of her ears. : do you have any ideas on how we should proceed from here? There is much we must do. But how? How do we make sure Valdemar is prepared for the war I was brought back to stop, while ensuring that She does not fall to the Mage Storms?:

: I believe it would be prudent to compare notes on what we remember of the mage storms and the events leading up to their eventual conclusion. : Yfandes said after a moment's consideration. : Clearly Valdemar needs to retain the ability to train mages, while retaining the level of control over the other Heraldic gifts. :

Vanyel considered his companion's words. : We need to work on reestablishing the Web Spell tying all Heralds to and Companions together. IT made us all a lot more efficient. Which means I need to be made a Guardian sooner rather than later.: he considered that for a second. : But not too soon I think. Give me a few seconds to work something out 'Fandes. :

Over the course of the next hour they worked out a viable plan. Working out Valdemar's boarders at the time of the coming Cataclysm and now was a difficult first step. Five hundred years was a long time and boarders had changed. He'd have to remember to either create a map detailing both sets of Borders or mark the future borders on a current map.

"What do you think?" he asked at last, having detailed his plan and mentally marked every major layline and Node in Valdemar he could remember. ,

: To do it correctly.: Fandes replied, in an almost reverent tone. :Will take a lifetime.:

Vanyel rubbed his eyes. "It's a good thing we've got a lifetime."

:Were shall we begin?: he asked quietly.

:We ride circuit for a few years. Taver will ensure we end up where we need to be before the war breaks out. May I suggest, though, that we handle the Karsite border before it heats up?:

Despite himself Vanyel Smiled. : That seems prudent, : he agreed.

:Can you redirect Laylines? :

:As it stands now? : He paused and considered the question. : Nothing big enough to be helpful.: he admitted reluctantly. : I will speak with Starwind and Moondance after Savil and Kellan have left.:

Yfandes bobbed her head, slightly in acknowledgment. : I will be sending a report to Taver via Kellan. How much of the plan should we tell him of now?:

Vanyel considered that. "I am unsure," he confessed. "He is the Grove Born. He needs to be apprised of the situation. But I am unsure how much we should divulge at this juncture. Alternatively, the more minds working on the problem the better. We are alone in this Yfandes. I do not like it."

AN.

Important Vocab:

The Lir are a magical animal guide crafted by the gods for a warrior. They represent half a warriors soul. When it is time for them to connect the warrior experiences a strange sickness that all but drives them mad until they flee into the woods to find their Lir. In the rare case that the two do not meet the Lir dies and the Warrior remains a shadow of what he could be. After they connect a Lir returns to the wild as a normal animal should their warrior die. The reverse is not true should the Lir die their warrior will go crazy. Most commute suicide rather then live with half a soul and persistent madness, those who don't die from madness. ie a warrior who died by jumping off a cliff belie

Lir - (leer) is a term used indiscriminately between Lir and their Warriors. With the Lir tending to call their bond mate Lir, in much the same way Companion's will occasionally refer to their Herald as Chosen.

Loren -is the term lir use to address a female who possess the gifts of the old blood, amount them the ability to talk to the Lir. Though women do not themselves have Lir.

Tahlmorra lujhala mei wicca, Cheysu - the fate of man rests in the hands of gods

Cheysuli i'halla shansu, - May Cheysuli peace be upon you

:Y'ja'hai - I accept