Things to know before reading:
--Yay…here 'tis, the last official chappy of 'Kismet of a Changechild', started Saturday, March 09, 2002 10:49:00 AM and finished Tuesday, August 13, 2002 11:09:12 PM. Excuse me for…being overly sentimental…*sniffles*
--*cough* I'd like to thank Yue-chan and all my reviewer-people for keeping me going, though I have the pace of a snail. Blarhk! ^.^
Kismet of a Changechild
Chapter XVII
By Aura Kage
Derik stared the bleached kestrel, wide-eyed with shock. Kestri turned away and began preening herself nonchalantly. Snowsong was watching her as well, and gently he took her off his glove.
"Kestri?"
:I don't feel like talking about it,: she said, glancing up at him and looking away. :I'll tell you later, but at the moment-:
:HELP! ANYONE!: a powerful Mind-voice cried in terror. Just as the voice went off, Kyrrith suddenly buckled.
:DAWNSHADOW!: he shouted, 'deafening' each of them momentarily. Ranaena gave a weak cry of pain and concern, and Kiriath looked down at her brother, nuzzling his mane in a frantic, vain attempt to soothe for just a moment before turning to Derik.
:Come with me, you and Snowsong and Kestri,: Kiriath said curtly, presenting her un-adorned back to him. :Hurry!:
Derik did so, nearly leaping onto Kiriath's back, taking Snowsong's hand and pulling him on while Kestri took to the skies with a somewhat startled killy. Later, it would occur to him that Kiriath and Kyrrith had been Bespeaking – but for now, it didn't matter.
An eternity later, they had barged into the Healers' Collegium, Chosen and Companion and kestrel and ex-scout rushing to the frantic Mind-crying.
Inside Dawnshadow's room lay Darea, her hands poised over the Changechild's chest, her eyes shut in concentration, frowning slightly. Around her were several Healers and Heralds, including – yes – Talia. All eyes were closed, and they all seemed to concentrating…very, very hard.
But only Darea seemed to be doing anything. Her hands were glowing a soft grayish-forest green, and from that aura around her fingers stretched fat tendrils of the hue that buried themselves in Dawnshadow's chest…through which the bed sheets underneath were visible.
:Help me,: the Mind-Healer said, pained, reaching out for Derik. :The source, I was right – she was only remaining because it was still filtering through to her, however slowly and weakly, but now it's gone completely…she can't remain stable in this form. Lend me your power!:
Derik took a deep breath and looked back at Kiriath, who was waiting in the corridor, her eyes already closed, head bowed. Kestri's torso lowered and her wings unfolded, and clumsily she flapped forward. Derik held up an arm in defense, but the kestrel landed on it, careful to not pierce his skin but managing to do so anyway. Derik winced and cried out softly as her talons slashed through his Whites and buried into his skin, but Kestri's eyes closed, unknowing of the wound, and he felt her power radiate from her, as if she were a softly glowing sun. He pursed his lips and shoved away the pain, doing as she was, and gently submerged into the mass-trance.
It was unlike any other he had felt before – strange and dream-like in its odd vagueness and awesome clarity. Contradictory. The room had faded into a wash of pure, dark black…no, not pure, because there were forms, glowing like wraiths before him and next to him-
That nearly shocked him out of the trance, but beside him he felt the gentle reassurance, and he 'turned' his perspective around to see a form beside him, vaguely bird-like in appearance, its eyes blanked entirely out so that they were black. Like a skeleton, with its ivory body and empty holes for eyes…
The bird-form burbled softly, and the sound echoed and amplified into an almost unbearable purr of tranquillity. Tension shed from the other glowing white forms, including himself, in a shower of dust – somehow he felt and knew that, but as to how he did it…he didn't know.
But then Kestri – for that was what the bird-form was – turned back to another, larger resplendent frame, which was brighter than all the rest and yet…and yet, so dim. So weak. It was being pulled into a 'hole' in the plane they were in, its light gradually getting sucked into that bottomless pit, and the light dispersed as it fell into the hole, destroyed.
No, not destroyed…used. The light had split into millions of particles that slowly attached themselves to the side of the hole, so that it gleamed with the light of a billion diminutive stars…
And then Kestri's trance-form bowed her head, and a stream of light shot from her crest, joining with the light that was being used up, and it grew larger with her added power. Derik added to the light as well, and felt himself being slowly, slowly drained. He was withdrawing his power – ever so slowly – from his own body and giving it to the greatest light, the victim-light, Darea…
…who would inevitably be pulled into the hole, which was, afterall, Death. She was the gateway between all the magic and Dawnshadow, the only gateway, for if she failed, then she would be pulled into the same fate that the Changechild did.
As with Kyrrith, his Companion's love.
Now twin beams of light shot forth from the darkness, clearly from afar, and somehow Derik identified them as Ranaena and Kyrrith himself, joining, lending, hoping, praying-
Dawnie, you will not die, Derik growled mentally. Not until you're old enough.
More beams shot forth from the darkness as more were helping – Companions, Heralds, Herald-Trainees, Healers, Healer-Trainees, Mind-Healers…
But it was a waning effort. In the back of Derik's mind, he knew it was hopeless. To create a Changechild took massive labor itself – but Dawnshadow had already been leaving, splitting apart, far before her master had met his untimely end.
Derik saw it now, explained in patient clarity, somehow…Dawnshadow had been horribly made. Was not made to live. A true Changechild would have been a pillar of stable power weaving together an animal and human – she was a pile of sticks and glue. Now what she needed was to be rebuilt, and then fixed.
And already most of the once-bright forms had dwindled to the size of candles, and then extinguished entirely. Derik himself was feeling his trance-form shrink…get smaller…his power wasn't enough, the power of the Companions wasn't enough, not all the Heralds in the world could stop what was inevitably coming…
~
Beside her, Kestri felt Derik growing smaller. The kestrel herself was starting to get tired – but she would be able to fuel the cat-girl much longer after the Herald had drained himself to total exhaustion, powerless, defenseless. She hoped that there was a Healer out there to take care of the other Heralds that had gone out cold, using themselves up like a rag that had been wrung out far too much.
It was one of those times when she wished she could cry. But crying was useless for kestrels, so they couldn't do so – which meant, obviously, that Kestri couldn't do so either.
She wished she could have helped earlier. If only she had revealed herself earlier…that she wasn't a boy's bondbird kestrel, but in fact a Tayledras scout like Snowsong himself…maybe she would have received the training she needed for this. She knew already the basics of magic handling and a bit more of the advanced stuff like manifesting lightning, and had had to work hard to make sure that Snowsong didn't look as if he were learning everything too quickly. But while she was re-doing basics, she could have learned…so much more…
But it was all done and gone now. Just like Nightfox k'Vala, who had been eaten by wyrsa just as she was about to leave scout-hood. No, that was wrong. Her body had been eaten by wyrsa – her spirit had lived on and dormant in her bondbird kestrel by some feral miracle, the real Kestri, until he had died, lost, bondmate-less, confused, and alone. Then her spirit had re-awakened…in Kestri's body.
It had all been so complicated…for some reason that she didn't know of, she was smaller than Kestri used to be. And she was drawn…drawn towards someone else, in the Vale. Drawn with the kind of desire that few experience – drawn hungrily, unresistingly, to a lone ekele where a boy laid on his bed crying at the death of his parents.
Then she had known two things – first, she was Lifebonded. She couldn't leave this boy, no matter how much she tried. She loved him, unceasingly, happily. And he loved her in return – though he didn't know that he was not merely bonded, but Lifebonded to her.
And second – she must never, ever give away who she was. She had been rundown by wyrsa on a route that she should never have taken, a forbidden route – and that alone shamed her. Though this new Vale leader might have been forgiving, she couldn't bring herself to forgive herself for making such a mistake, which now made her trapped permanently in the body of this tiny, tiny raptor.
And now she was going to lose this cat-girl, this poor little Changechild that certainly didn't deserve any of this. Forever, Snowsong would mourn the loss of his one and only friend. Forever, she would be equally tormented – and she would know that it was all her fault.
My fault, my fault…MY FAULT!
Because she had impersonated Kestri. Because she had convinced herself that she was, in fact, a kestrel bondbird. Because she had purposely made herself forget Nightfox k'Vala – Nightfox k'Vala was dead, gone…she had seen the grave herself. She was not Nightfox k'Vala, she was Kestri. Kestri, Snowsong's bondbird.
But she was Nightfox, and it was Nightfox's body that rested, torn and slashed and mostly eaten, in that grave – but her soul soared through the skies, in the vessel of a kestrel. And she had been too dumb, too stubborn, to realize and accept…
:But I'm glad you finally did,: said a soft, comforting voice over her head. Vicious crimson, vibrant orange, and fierce yellow exploded over the darkness of the trance, and Kestri looked up to see two twin bodies flapping over her head. She 'looked' around – no one else had noticed.
She turned back to the Vorcelhawks over her head.
:I have realized,: she told them, her voice sounding quivery and weak in the impressive vastness of the trance-land and the massiveness of the Avatars, even this far away. :I have realized. I am not Kestri…I am Tayledras. My name is Nightfox k'Vala.:
One of the Vorcelhawks flew down to her, landed next to her in the everlasting ebony, and embraced her with its wings, blazing wildly like an inferno, just as she had seen them the other night. Embers splayed from its ever-changing feathers like rubies.
:Welcome back, daughter,: Dawnfire said to her mind, as she looked up and leaped back into the sky. :Welcome back.:
Kestri – Nightfox – watched breathlessly as the Vorcelhawks turned their strangely beautiful, non-iris, non-pupiled eyes towards the whole; then the air ignited with their power scorching the trance-land, and it went in the form of flames down the hole, down Death. More than enough power to remake and heal the Changechild. More than enough power…
The pillar of flames threw back Darea's trance-form, and she suddenly blinked out – leaving the trance in shock. Above her head, Nightfox could hear the Vorcelhawks recede from the trance, and the flames diminished themselves with their sluggish departure…and in it Nightfox saw a brief glimpse of an ember-hued cat before it disappeared, leaving the trance world.
:Thank you,: Nightfox called out to the retreating Vorcelhawks. They looked down at her with their celestial eyes, and with those they seemed to give a mouth-less smile.
:You are welcome, Nightfox,: they chorused, and then the flames died away into the blackness.
One by one, the trance-forms blinked out as they left the trance world, and Nightfox, smiling mentally, watched them all go until she was the last left – then she flapped her trance-wings and flew back to Kestri's waiting body.
~
Falling…
Fearfearfearfear…falling…
Falling forever and always, until she died – or had she already? Was this death? Falling and falling and never meeting the end…falling in pain, finally wishing that it would all just end…that she would meet the bottom and end this…as if she was caught in a perpetual plummet from the skies…
Knowing she was going to meet her doom, afraid of death, and wishing for it – knowing it could come at any time…and trapped in waiting…
Sparkles, up above – what are they? Great glowing forms of light, formless…no, they possessed some shape…they are human, and others…horses-
No, not horses…Companions…
All waiting, all trying to make that rope that would bring her back with them. Silent pleads for her to live…but for what? To come back to that pain? Even this was better than what she had up there…this horrible half-life…
The nearest is being pulled in, sucked in to where she was. She wants to tell it no…that she isn't worth the trouble of going near Death…but she is mute, soundless, and she can only be patient and fall and fall and fall and fall…
The lights – they are going out…like so many fireflies being killed. Leaving. They are leaving her. They had wasted all their power on her, and she was no closer to where they want her to be – where she doesn't want to go.
No, no, please – don't waste yourselves, just leave me be – I want to die, can't you see?
But no, she doesn't want to die – some part of her still wants life. Life with Kyrrith and Snowsong and Kestri and Derik and Silver and Kuriana and the Heralds – her only friends, her only friends…
:Stay, sister, stay!: mews a voice in her mind. :Please stay!:
A voice in her mind? Or is it real, calling to her even while she lays so close to death? Can she reply?
:Leave me be…:
:Stay, sister, stay!: the voice says firmly. :So many lives depend on you…so many will be ruined…stay for their sake, if not for your own!:
It is right…she has to stay…she can't be selfish…she can't just throw away her life…it would be an insult to those who know her, who are fighting so hard…
:I'll stay,: she replies, and the voice doesn't reply – it's gone. And now she feels a true fear for the death she wanted not too long ago. :Free me! Free me, please! Help me, save me!:
And the lights toil ever more for her…and more go out…and then she sees an eruption of flame at the top of the hole, and it seethes with power, and it comes down, right towards her – and she screams in fear of it as it embraces her, fiery tongues licking her skin-
But it brings her up, lifts her high, and the hole falls back, merely a circle on the ground – and the flames scatter, leaving her bare and powerless and hovering in the air, but alive-
And, for some reason, the darkness is eaten again by darkness, but a different kind of darkness – an alive darkness, a welcome darkness, a wanted darkness-
I'm alive!
~
Dawnshadow sat straight up in her bed, breathing hard, eyes wide. She looked around her at the cluster of Heralds and Healers and the Companion waiting outside – all looking back at her. At her. The Changechild Herald-Trainee that almost no one knew – yet they fought so hard to save her.
Kestri peered at her, tilted her head, and seemed to smile warmly at her.
And then, a swift gray movement; Silver landed in her lap, and licked his chops and sat down in her lap.
:Sister?: he inquired.
"Brother," Dawnshadow replied, embracing the cat warmly. Derik snorted somewhere in the background.
"Oh, so we all risk our lives for you, and she hugs the cat?" Derik said indignantly. "What kind of grateful response is that?"
Kuriana sighed in exasperation and put a hand on his shoulder. "Derik?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up. Please."