Disclaimer: Standard, see previous chapters.
Beyond the Labyrinth
Wings of Fate
The months passed, fall into winter, winter to spring. And when the fenns were blooming with small swamp flowers, and jeweled wings flashed in the new sun, a child was born…
A single crystal tear shimmered down the new mother's cheek and disappeared in the mist of the fenns that swirled among her wings. Against her breast rested a small child, blissfully nursing, completely unaware of the tragedy of his birth. Nerillwyma looked down out at her son and more tears followed. "No wings…what cruel god would deprive my son of his wings?"
Her father draped an arm around her and squeezed her tightly "It is so with Fae royal blood…the form breeds true, and will always do so…so while he is the child of your body, he will never fly with us."
"He has no color…not even a tint of green or blue. Only his lovely eyes, unmatched like his fathers…oh father…he will never be happy here…"
"No, he will not be, though his soul belongs in the fenn…and I cannot allow him to stay. What if he bred? All his children will be born without wings…I cannot allow such cruelty to our people. Our wings are our freedom."
She nodded she had expected no less. "We are banished then?"
He embraced her with his crimson wings, the great tigers eye pattern seemed to weep… "It need not necessarily be so…we of the fenn have no obligation to those outside…we could simply leave the child at a road crossing, or even at a doorstep…you could continue to dance among us…"
Nerillwyma shook her head sadly. "No I will not punish him for my mistake. We were told not to conceive, not to hope…but I did. His malformation is my fault. I can't send him to suffer alone.
"Then it is decided…the people come before even you daughter. Though I shall miss your lavender beauty with all my heart…you and your son are banished from the fenn lands for as long as the child remains alive and wingless."
Her antennae curled in misery, she turned silently and disappeared into the mist. She walked, to heavy of heart and body to fly, to the borders of the fenn without even a backward glance. The faint scents of flowers, the light tinkle of her people's laughter, these she stored away. Hoping always to remember them…hoping always to return some day.
* * * * *
She started on the familiar road to Lord Shelltross's estate. It was her second home…perhaps, just perhaps he would feel pity for her and the child even though she had disobeyed him and conceived. He was at heart, a kind man.
Lost in these thoughts, she didn't hear the riders until they were nearly upon her…and by then it was too late to hide. Seven dark riders, upon blood bay mares, came to a snorting halt as they drew even with her. The leader dismounted and threw back his riding hood as he stalked towards her. A grin played upon his fair face, though his eyes remained in shadow. He parted his perfect lips to reveal slight, pointed teeth. A low hiss issued from his throat…
Nerillwyma's hand came up in a sign of warding "Shadow-touched…"
The man laughed a fleeting, mellow sound that brought to mind cool fall nights. Then the whispery chuckle modulated into a sound easily understood. He spoke "So little lost one, you know of us?"
"You are night haunts…tales…"
"Is that what we look like?" He held out his elegantly gloved hand and the hand that delicately stroked one of her antennae was disturbingly real "Tales often have some truth in them child…do you know why we are here?"
"The tales say you and your host ride out in search of those with some power…those lost…disowned…and embrace them."
"Yes lovely flower…we sensed that you need family. Would it be such a bad thing to come with us? We are strong, strong enough to easily protect you from everything. You could have anything…gardens in which to dance…friends with which to laugh…"
Her antennae trembled, and curled about his hand beseechingly "Why would you do such a thing? I am no one…"
"Ah, but you could be. Since the dawn of time, we of the shadows have taken in the unwanted…those we take in are safe forever. Not even the upstart Fae dare try to retrieve those that we have welcomed, for we are power far older than those that profess to rule this land…you are young, far to young to be out alone in this world…come with us…"
Her mind painted a picture of the promises that the dark man whispered…a family, a home that would never, ever abandon her…She parted her lips, prepared to accept…then the child stirred. What had appeared as a simple bundle of cloth soon wiggled around to reveal itself as a child. Surprised, the man drew back. The slight smile on his face was replaced by almost a pained expression. The hand that had stroked her, reached down to gently cradle the boys cheek. "A child…"
"Yes, he is my son. He is not winged…"
"Ah, and that would be why you wander…more fools they." A tender expression crossed his face as he looked upon the child. Then he looked up with regret evident in every feature "We cannot bring children into the shadow lands…it must be a conscious choice, and they must know the full ramifications. You alone, we could have brought…we could have taught you, gifted you with shadow…but with a child…" A single tear gleamed crystalline on his cheek.
"My father offered me the same price…the child. And as I told him, he shall not suffer for my mistake." She hung her head in misery, and then she turned, prepared to head out onto the road once more.
She felt a gentle hand upon her shoulder. The man turned her about to face him once more. "I never asked you to give up the child…if you had, I would have killed you on the spot. Our kind…cannot bear children. To see your loyalty touches us. We will grant you a gift, and a promise." He reached up to his throat and removed a necklace of black jade carved like a flame. "This is the gift. If and when your own road comes to an end, this shall be your key to us. When you feel your end approaching, you have but to beseech this amulet and the shadows shall embrace you, if you so choose. The dark is not for everyone, and the powers granted cannot be returned. And I, alone, give you this promise. Should you ever feel to alone, to overwhelmed by the road you have chosen…whisper Silvermane to the shadows and I shall be there…to talk, to listen…" He clasped the necklace about her throat, and it fell within the bounds of her shirt, to sit, dark and warm, upon her breast. He kissed her once, on the forehead, and then bent to kiss the child. Then he remounted and rode off, the others followed after giving her respectful nods.
She sat in the middle of the road for a moment, bewildered…shocked; to have had night haunts, nay, the stuff of modern nightmares, show compassion. It seemed that even the ancient dark had a heart, and a soul. Heartened, she nursed the child, and continued her journey.
* * * * *
Her delicate feet soon grew cut and sore, her wings bedraggled. The mewling child seemed to demand her every moment, and she grew thinner…both from exhaustion and misery. The journey had never seemed so long when she flew…the fall rains came, and still she walked on, unnoticing of her chill…her illness…her fever…
Her mind seemed locked in a fog in which nothing was real except the child, and sometimes a glimmer here or there…
Every moment she expected to unswaddle her son and see that it had all been a dream, that he did indeed have wings. Glorious wings of gold and silver, that threw the sun in rainbows of color. Or perhaps to feel a warm cloth on her head and wake up in the fenns…but no such miracle happened.
Her mind gradually gathered it's scattered thoughts and disjointed perceptions. She awoke, thankfully, her clothes clammy from her fever. She was curled on a dark cloak, the child was nestled nearby. By her hand was a water flask and a basket of fruit. Her mouth tasted bitter…obviously some draught had been forced down her throat in her delirium. She looked about for her patron, the one she must thank. No one was there.
Then she spotted it…a dark flame carved into the tree above her head.
* * * * *
She had wandered greatly in her delirium. She had not stayed to the roads she knew, the roads that led to Shelltross and possible shelter. Instead she found herself in the deep rolling foothills of the fang mountain range, a brook burbling happily, a hands width from where she lay. Beside her, her son had unwound himself from his blanket and was cooing happily, his shock of white hair curling in the breeze. There were still no wings upon his back…and now, exhausted from her illness… he seemed foreign to her.
His pale body writhed, entirely earth bound, and clutched at the wind he felt should be his…his struggles elicited a pang of self pity…she could let the breeze take her…just ride away…leave him here, none would know…just her and the breeze. She would ride it forever, just drift away like a dandelion puff…never settling, never stopping…instead, she stood and gathered the gifts that had been left. Slinging her son onto her back, nestled between her wings, she set off. Not to seek out Shelltross, or anyone…but to find a place in which to live out the coming winter.
* * * * *
I apologize once more…I just wasn't happy with the last chapter, so here it is, revised a bit. Hope you liked it!