Of Trembling Light

By Kay

Author's Notes: Mwwagh. My computer got hit by a god awful virus-- and I lost EVERYTHING. All my documents. All my fics in progress. *Everything*.

... I hate life.

However, I'm slowly recovering from this trauma, and have started trying to rewrite my fics. ^^;; It's not any where as near as good as the original one was turning out, but at least I'm getting a move on... so enjoy! Thanks for all the support, guys. Hope no one forgot about me while I was away!

Oh-- IMPORTANT NOTE-- I wasn't originally going to have the exact same names. But I thought it'd be too confusing, so they'll keep 'em. ^^;; So please ignore that "David" and such probably wouldn't be given names in Everworld.

Oh. And forgive all the original characters-- I didn't have an alternative. Hope y'like 'em. ^^;;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The witch had given her instructions. It did not occur to the dark-haired youth until later, however, that she had given them no time frame.

"Just when will this little demon brat be born?" complained Sage Ryle, stabbing viciously at a random log with the tip of his sword. The glimmering edge slashed at the bark, leaving a trail of ruined wick to leak from the organic wound.

"You should learn patience, Sage," his uncle commented. He took another puff of the pipe he was holding, glancing over at his annoyed nephew. "It won't do well if you can't learn patience, as you are supposed to take care of this child. Take it from me, your old guardian-- it's not an easy thing, to care for a baby."

"Yes, yes." Sage sighed in irritation, but it was without malice. Settling against the cold granite rock behind him, the tall young man looked at up a gray and turbulent sky. He had ridden hard and long to make it to this northern land of giant beasts, where generations of his family had been raised and trained. His own parents had long passed away, leaving him as a small child here, and these lands had become home to him. He had been raised by his eccentric yet kind uncle here.

That didn't stop him from shuddering at the overcast sky.

"It looks as though it's ready to sprout teeth and attack me," he muttered darkly, tossing a suspicious look at the weather again. "Why can't we go inside, Uncle?"

The old man perched on a rock beside him snorted. "'Tis merely a storm, boy. Don't be such a spineless clod."

"Your faith in my courage astounds me."

His uncle grinned at him-- a cracked, wizened old thing that almost ripped the worn leather of his face in two. "Aye, it should. And how could I ever doubt that m'boy would never learn sarcasm? Hah hah."

Sage shook his head, but had a slight smile on his face.

"I just want to know when this babe will be born," he replied. Flipping the raven ponytail trailing down his back, Sage added, "And when I can stop spending every day in dragon turf. You know they don't take kindly to us here. It is their nesting ground."

His uncle smacked his dry lips against the pipe in his mouth, wisps of smoke curling around his face. "Ch', silly boy. Our family has stayed on these grounds for ages. Centuries. Since the dawn of Everworld--"

"Yes, yes, but that doesn't mean they won't eat us, now does it?" Sage snapped irritably. He crossed his arms over his chest, and gazed out anxiously over the plain.

If it wasn't such a dangerous spot to be relaxing, he had to admit it was beautiful. The hills rolled in gentle waves of emerald grass, dotted with sharp gray rocks every few feet. Within the slabs of stone that the dragons had built up into nests (mind you, nests the size of a miniature horse) there were scattered, graceful spheres. The spheres looked almost like the rocks, blending in with their smooth crystalline features. Some resembled slate or granite, others more delicate and beautiful than quartz. Each was half the size of Sage, if not larger, and he winced every time they would shake or jerk in their resting places.

Eggs. Dragon eggs.

"I keep thinking-- if I even touched one, they'd bite my entire arm off," he mumbled darkly. His uncle cackled.

"Or just a half your head. Tastier to them, you know."

"Silence, old man," grumbled Safe. "You're wearisome."

Ignoring the gleeful laughter of his uncle, and mentally wondering why he had agreed to such a foolish task, Sage gazed over the lands once again.

"How do I find a child that is born from no womb..." he asked softly to himself, gray eyes confused and lost. Almost naturally, his hands found grooves in the stones rising from the ground behind him-- climbing the rocks of a dragon nest was never well-advised, but his family never had been exactly common, either. Sage scrambled to the top of a particularly high one, looking down over the nest. From there, he could see farther off in the distance, where the large and lanky beasts were resting.

"I think they may come over here soon," Sage called down to his uncle. He brushed a strand of wayward black hair out of his face, tossed by the wind. "Eh-- I can smell them from here."

"Lovely."

"So you'd say." Sage wrinkled his nose up. "They may be beautiful and graceful and deadly, Uncle, but their hygiene could always use a little perking up."

"No more than your's could," his uncle cracked, snickering to himself with glee and clapping the rock he sat on. "Heh heh."

"Oh, silence, old man."

There was a funny sort of quiet that came with being in dragon nesting territory. Ever since Sage was a tiny lad, he'd ran over these fields, tripping over the rocks. His kind had a particular understanding with the dragons. (Compromising mostly of threats and wary trust, but it was indeed an understanding, if not a peculiar one.) One of the things that always struck him the most was the deathly silence around the nests. As though there had to be utter nothingness, in order to hear the first baby break its shell and cry out.

Sage would be thankful, however, for that silence now.

"Hear that?"

"What?" Sage peered down at his uncle, studying the way the old man cocked his head to the side. "What is it?"

"Shhh. Listen, boy."

And he did. He turned his head to the north side of the nesting grounds, listening and straining to hear. At first it was nothing. Then it appeared, so faint and tiny that he almost wasn't sure.

"A baby. Crying..." he breathed.

He looked at his uncle. His uncle looked at him.

Then, turning their heads towards the north, they began to run.

* * *

"David Amaranth Ryle," Sage announced gleefully. "It's perfect."

"Doesn't sound like a warrior's name to me," Uncle muttered darkly. He took another puff of his pipe.

"Don't smoke that around the baby," Sage said firmly, holding the bundle in his arms away from the wisps of gray smoke in the air. It shifted and made a cooing sound, gentle and inquisitive, as though wanting to know why it was being manhandled. "It'll get sick. If you want it to grow up to be a warrior, smoking's only going to weaken the poor thing."

"You're not his mother," grumbled his uncle, but his dark eyes were twinkling, and he put out the pipe with a quick burst of air. "And you don't sound like much of a warrior either! Squealing at that little ash brat."

"Ash brat? That's not very nice." Sage peered down at the baby-- David, what a perfect name, he thought!-- and grinned in delight. "You're not an ash brat, are you, David? You're special and strong. You're a Ryle."

"He's an ash brat. We found him in ash, and he's a brat."

"Oh, silence, old man."

The baby cooed sadly at them both. Sage immediately rocked it carefully in his muscled arms, beaming at the child within. Two dark, almost black eyes peered back up at him, curious and unfearing. There was already a shock of deep brown hair growing on his head, and tiny fingers reached around to cling at the air.

He remembered digging around in the nest after that plaintive cry, one with broken eggshells already scattered. The dragon children had been born a few hours before, and the ground was full of soot and ash from their first breaths. It was within that lifeless soot that David had howled, unpleased at being left in the dirt all alone. Sage could remember how he had immediately quieted at the sight of his face, blinking up at him without a single worry.

Sage knew at that moment that this child was something incredible. All thoughts of hating the task and wanting to get it over with just flew out of his head. This was… something good. Something he wouldn't be able to leave for a long time now.

He thought David was perfect.

As if he could hear Sage's thoughts, David cooed again-- one of the few sounds he'd made that sounded pleased. All in all, he was a quiet baby. Didn't say a word until they got him to his uncle's house, and then he cried only out of hunger. Sage was amazed at the trust in the tiny being, who didn't seem worried at all that he had no parents to come for him. No one except Sage and Uncle.

"Well, we're just as good as anyone," he murmured to David. The baby smiled at him, and Sage felt himself grin back.

"What are you going to do with him?" his uncle asked. He was watching them both with a strange, amused gleam in his old eyes.

"Well..." To be honest, Sage hadn't thought about that yet. He knew he was supposed to bring the child back to the clearing-- but David was so small. Unafraid or not, babies wouldn't stand a chance in the wild. Not to mention the fact that he didn't know when the others would return. If they returned at all. What if it was a waste of a trip?

And even if they did, how could he just leave David Amaranth Ryle with them?

'Ayi. I sound like a mother. Curse the goddess.'

"Maybe you should keep him here for a while."

Sage looked up at his uncle sharply. "What did you say?"

The old man smiled at him mysteriously, tapping his unlit pipe on his weathered lips. "I said that maybe you should keep him here. Just for a while. He'll be needin' training and such. A couple months or so would do him good in the country, before those strange folk take him away. It might be best. You can always send word with a messenger that he's safe and well-protected here. Then... when they actually need him..."

Sage bit his lip hard. He looked down at David. The baby wrinkled its nose at him, dark eyes boring deeply into his own.

"Well, little dragon... what do you think?" he asked softly. He held out his finger to the child, and watched as David clutched at it tightly with one hand and squealed.

"Baaaaa!"

Sage's lips twitched. He heard his uncle snort with laughter.

"I guess the ash brat has decided to stick around for a while!"

"Oh, silence, old man." Sage grinned down at David. "As for you... David... let's go get you something to sleep in, eh?"

His uncle watched them both leave the room, cooing and taunting at each other. His ancient throat heaved in laughter.

When they were gone, he lit his pipe.

"Heh. Ash brat's got good taste."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO BE CONTINUED: Next up, they find another baby. Basic plan includes all the chapters of finding the babies, then some growing up chapters, then... damn it, this is going to be frickin' long. And I've never finished an epic. And I never update. But... MUST TRY... x_x

Thanks for all your support! I appreciate y'all stickin' with me. *HUGS*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~