Heyla, everyone! Mucho thanks for the reviews, I'm currently recovering
from the 12 min run. So I'm dedicating this chapter to everyone else who's
ever had to do it. I wish I didn't have to do it again in November. -_-
Anyways.
Winddancer: Fireblade, this is set after the Magestorms. (e.g., after Kethry and *much* after Van. It's a timeline impossibility, after all.) Oh, and we want a couple Shin'a'in proverbs, if Rissa wouldn't mind sharing a few. ^_^
Shadowwalker: And since you left it to us to decide if (and how) Van and Cal meet, well, you might be surprised. Or not. Whichever, just keep reading. And reviewing. Always reviewing, even if you don't like. Why you wouldn't like it . *shrug* maybe you aren't a Lackey person.
Hawk: *dreamily* Lackey .
Stormwing: *grinning widely* Exile's Valor comes out on Wednesday, November 4, 2003. Finally, more Alberich, something we all need. To quote: The best thing for what makes you hurt is more of what made you hurt in the first place. With the exception of heartbreak. And death. Neither of them make the last one any better.
Winddancer: More reviews are always good, but they don't hurt. Unless you flame. That burns.
Anyways, the fic goes on.
***
The dark haired teen sat on the edge of the dusty road, the warm spring sun beating down on her, the dark brown cloak she always wore undone. The people in this area were oddly frightened of wizards, and the Journeyman preferred to leave it over her robes for the sake of the people who sheltered her. Wandering people seemed to be common, they attracted no fear on the roads.
Speaking of traffic, no traffic had come by in over an hour, and Calsa was starting to get bored.
*I would leave, but the only way I could get out would to be to blast myself out. And I'm sure there's some way to keep myself from frying, but I can't remember it.*
The air was still and warm, and the curb upon which Cal was sitting was soft. She dozed off on the grassy patch, trying to remember the vital step.
***
---It was the ice-dream again, the one where Van stood alone, the sole barrier between Valdemar and a monstrous army of unbelievable proportions. The only problem was, it wasn't a dream this time. The blood trickled slowly down Vanyel's leg, but it wasn't as bad as in the dream, or at least, not as bad as the sixteen year-old Van had made it out to be.
The mage-leader came to the front, his black eyes, hair and clothing the opposite of Van's white and silver. 'You are,' stated Leareth, 'Quite alone. But I can be forgiving. Just come to me and we can do awesome things together. Even bringing your beloved Tylendel would be a mere parlor trick to what we could do. Just come to me.'
*Will he do it? He better damn well not, *no one* can bring back the dead, not even with two Vanyel level people working at it.* But despair swept over her as Calsa realized that not only wasn't there enough power for Van to call down a Final Strike powerful enough to kill the mage, the mage was being fed node-magic by other mages on the other side of the mountains.
(He can't understand,) Van thought to Cal's surprise, (that I *did* get 'Lendel back. 'Lendel came back to me as Steph, and it would betray both of them to take his offer. And even I hadn't known that, it still would have betrayed 'Fandes, and Valdemar. I could never do that.)
Angry hoof steps pounded up next to Van, Yfandes appeared neighing in defiance of the dark mage. :I knew what the price would be when I Chose you, Vanyel, and I Chose you all the same. You are my Chosen, and I wouldn't give back one moment, not one, for anything in the world.: Calsa was surprised to have heard 'Fandes' mindvoice. She had never before.
:Truly?: Van asked his Companion.
:Truly.:
He rested his hand on her back, gathered all his power, the node-magic and the magic that 'Fandes offered him, smiled at the dark mage and said one soft word.
'No.'
Then oblivion took them over as he released the Final Strike.---
***
'Vanyel!' Cal screamed, waking herself up. 'Oh gods, Vanyel, how could you have done that.' She burst into tears; her traveling companion, her one constant, even though they had never known her, was dead, and *that* was as irrevocable as a Final Strike. Something so odd that she pushed it aside at first occurred to her.
'It wasn't even a dream, was it?' Calsa asked softly. 'It was real, all of it.'
She heard an odd sort of buzzing, and looked around in confusion for the source. When she realized that *she* was the source, or at least, it was her fault that she was picking it up, she put her shields back up, flushing in embarrassment. *I have to remember to leave those up. Kaya would be ashamed of me if she heard me coming a week away.*
***
Preparing a light lunch, Cal sat on the grassy bank she had used for a bed and munched on some dried fish on bread. Not appetizing, but very welcome if you've just cried your soul out. It calmed her, the more mundane patterns of everyday life soothing the grief.
Footsteps on the road startled her, and she debated using Mindspeech to eavesdrop. *I'm sure Tor would forgive me, after all, this isn't your everyday situation. Oh damn, I forgot. That egg-thing will just bounce my Mindprobe back in my face.*
Cal considered swearing for a moment, then changed her mind. She had the oddest feeling that she would have more cause to later. *For once in my life I hope I'm wrong. Wait, maybe it would be more correct to say for once in the past week I hope I'm wrong.*
The group was a large, milling pack, all revolving on a few center people. One was probably the leader, the other the mage who had set the trap. She decided to play dumb, not revealing any more power then a weak hedge wizard.
Their voices were rough, harsh. The people they belonged to were stocky men, brown haired, brown eyed country folk, reminding Calsa of her slender, dark haired, pale eyed appearance. *Damn.* And they spoke some foreign language, hard inflections and very few soft sounds that she could make no sense of.
The one Cal had taken to be the mage smiled at her, and said something in a falsely kind and cheerful tone. Not that it mattered, she couldn't tell what he was saying, but it was so fake that she nearly choked.
Two things happened so quickly that Cal didn't have the time to react. The trap came down, shocking her after all her prying, and someone seized her from behind. *The best attack,* Cal thought grimly, *is the one no one sees coming. That was the best attack.*
But the mage, Master level, Calsa could see now, had made the stupidest mistake possible. He had released her bindings, and she was in no mood to be kind.
She twisted, fighting the pressure of the man on her back, trying to force her to the ground. She bucked the man off her back, and at the same time, blessed the boys of Fire Mountain, who had gotten into so many fights that it was impossible for even the densest not to pick up *some* tricks. He backed off glaring warily.
The mage got a fireball in his face, and Cal flung up her shields. *Shields.* The cage came back. *Ah, hells. Now I'm in for it.*
The gesture that the man made was unmistakably crude, and the one she had thrown said something in a tone that was . unpleasantly suggestive. She didn't have to be an expert to tell that he was peeved. *So, time for a surprise.*
Cal reached down under her for the nearest leyline. It did not fight her control, and, leaving her shields up, she let it feed into the space between the cage and her shield. The Journeyman sought another line, and then another. Then, channeling all the magic she could into that space, the magic caused it to explode.
The bandits whipped back in fear, the mage stepped forwards threateningly. She directed a levinbolt in his direction, barely missing his ear. He stepped back, but the others approached, brandishing weapons. And as they harried her, the mage sent bolts of power that narrowly missed her.
Cal fought like a mountain cat, her walking staff whipping into the faces and groins of her attackers, keeping them a little away. The mage leered at her and sent a particularly nasty little bolt at her.
*Demonsbane. I'm the victim and the only one, and that damned cockeyed little bastard just stands there and waves his hands. Why don't I ever get a break like that?* Cal wasn't really sure how long she could both evade the bolts and the weapons, so she dropped her shields to try to pick up the group's next move.
But a large axe falling inches from her face made her forget that plan. :HELP: she mindscreamed, not even aware that she did so. :DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN! NOT GOOD! I'M GONNA DIE! OH GODS I'M GOING TO DIE!:
She was wrong for the first time that week.
Something, she wasn't sure what, entered the far end of the throng, kicking and slashing it's way through the mass of people. The bandits dropped like flies under it's attack, and some space was cleared for it. The unknown made it's way towards her. :Shields up!: it barked.
The mage flinched when he saw her defender, the group turned tail and ran, giving Calsa the opportunity to look at it.
The white coat was flecked with blood, the proud head held defiantly. There was no mistaking who - or what - this snowy apparition was. The Companion's deep blue eyes stared into her own, and she heard her second sentence from *her* Companion, her own Companion.
:My name is Joshaylin, Calsa and I Choose you.: She wrapped her arms around the stallion's neck. :Thank you, Joshaylin.:
:You know,: the Companion said after a moment. :You can just call me Josh. It's easier.:
:Ok, Josh, call me Cal. And where in Shadowstalker's name are we?:
:Karse-Hardon border, near the Empiric border.:
:Well, how long will it take us to get to Haven, as I assume is your goal.:
:Six, seven weeks. Depends on the traffic.:
She felt her good humor coming back. :Well, in case you hadn't noticed, there's *no* traffic here.:
The Companion snorted, and the two proceeded westwards, towards Valdemar, towards fate.
***
Calsa awoke a week later to feel eyes boring into her back. Her run-in with the bandits had taught her caution. :Josh?: she asked. :Are you awake?: No answer.
Cal rolled over slowly, as if she were still asleep, eyes slits, trying to see her attacker. But what she saw caused her to widen them in surprise.
Identical silver eyes regarded her cheerfully, the hair that framed the strong face was black, though streaked thickly with silver. The proud features were so similar that she couldn't help blurting out the name.
'Vanyel?' she whispered softly.
***
Shadowwalker: As, for once, I am the only one here, I'll ask everyone, what did you think?
Winddancer: Hawk! Come here for a minute. *Shadowwalker starts muttering in annoyance, Stormwing glares at him and he shuts up.*
Stormwing: I guess I should've taken one from the other nest.
Hawk: Huh?
Stormwing: It was supposed to be a Christmas present, how about late Halloween treat? *thrusts something small and rocking into a confused Hawk's hands.*
Hawk: *shrieks* A firelizard egg! Oh my god thanks! *does a happy dance.* and it's hatching! *everyone watches as egg cracks open, Shadowwalker looks bored.*
Fire-lizard: meep! *Stares at Hawk*
Hawk: *Stares at Fire-lizard.*
Stormwing: They're busy now, more later. So review.
Hawk: Pie and cake and brownies for everyone who puts in a review. Whatever you want. *Goes back to staring at fire-lizard.*
Winddancer: Fireblade, this is set after the Magestorms. (e.g., after Kethry and *much* after Van. It's a timeline impossibility, after all.) Oh, and we want a couple Shin'a'in proverbs, if Rissa wouldn't mind sharing a few. ^_^
Shadowwalker: And since you left it to us to decide if (and how) Van and Cal meet, well, you might be surprised. Or not. Whichever, just keep reading. And reviewing. Always reviewing, even if you don't like. Why you wouldn't like it . *shrug* maybe you aren't a Lackey person.
Hawk: *dreamily* Lackey .
Stormwing: *grinning widely* Exile's Valor comes out on Wednesday, November 4, 2003. Finally, more Alberich, something we all need. To quote: The best thing for what makes you hurt is more of what made you hurt in the first place. With the exception of heartbreak. And death. Neither of them make the last one any better.
Winddancer: More reviews are always good, but they don't hurt. Unless you flame. That burns.
Anyways, the fic goes on.
***
The dark haired teen sat on the edge of the dusty road, the warm spring sun beating down on her, the dark brown cloak she always wore undone. The people in this area were oddly frightened of wizards, and the Journeyman preferred to leave it over her robes for the sake of the people who sheltered her. Wandering people seemed to be common, they attracted no fear on the roads.
Speaking of traffic, no traffic had come by in over an hour, and Calsa was starting to get bored.
*I would leave, but the only way I could get out would to be to blast myself out. And I'm sure there's some way to keep myself from frying, but I can't remember it.*
The air was still and warm, and the curb upon which Cal was sitting was soft. She dozed off on the grassy patch, trying to remember the vital step.
***
---It was the ice-dream again, the one where Van stood alone, the sole barrier between Valdemar and a monstrous army of unbelievable proportions. The only problem was, it wasn't a dream this time. The blood trickled slowly down Vanyel's leg, but it wasn't as bad as in the dream, or at least, not as bad as the sixteen year-old Van had made it out to be.
The mage-leader came to the front, his black eyes, hair and clothing the opposite of Van's white and silver. 'You are,' stated Leareth, 'Quite alone. But I can be forgiving. Just come to me and we can do awesome things together. Even bringing your beloved Tylendel would be a mere parlor trick to what we could do. Just come to me.'
*Will he do it? He better damn well not, *no one* can bring back the dead, not even with two Vanyel level people working at it.* But despair swept over her as Calsa realized that not only wasn't there enough power for Van to call down a Final Strike powerful enough to kill the mage, the mage was being fed node-magic by other mages on the other side of the mountains.
(He can't understand,) Van thought to Cal's surprise, (that I *did* get 'Lendel back. 'Lendel came back to me as Steph, and it would betray both of them to take his offer. And even I hadn't known that, it still would have betrayed 'Fandes, and Valdemar. I could never do that.)
Angry hoof steps pounded up next to Van, Yfandes appeared neighing in defiance of the dark mage. :I knew what the price would be when I Chose you, Vanyel, and I Chose you all the same. You are my Chosen, and I wouldn't give back one moment, not one, for anything in the world.: Calsa was surprised to have heard 'Fandes' mindvoice. She had never before.
:Truly?: Van asked his Companion.
:Truly.:
He rested his hand on her back, gathered all his power, the node-magic and the magic that 'Fandes offered him, smiled at the dark mage and said one soft word.
'No.'
Then oblivion took them over as he released the Final Strike.---
***
'Vanyel!' Cal screamed, waking herself up. 'Oh gods, Vanyel, how could you have done that.' She burst into tears; her traveling companion, her one constant, even though they had never known her, was dead, and *that* was as irrevocable as a Final Strike. Something so odd that she pushed it aside at first occurred to her.
'It wasn't even a dream, was it?' Calsa asked softly. 'It was real, all of it.'
She heard an odd sort of buzzing, and looked around in confusion for the source. When she realized that *she* was the source, or at least, it was her fault that she was picking it up, she put her shields back up, flushing in embarrassment. *I have to remember to leave those up. Kaya would be ashamed of me if she heard me coming a week away.*
***
Preparing a light lunch, Cal sat on the grassy bank she had used for a bed and munched on some dried fish on bread. Not appetizing, but very welcome if you've just cried your soul out. It calmed her, the more mundane patterns of everyday life soothing the grief.
Footsteps on the road startled her, and she debated using Mindspeech to eavesdrop. *I'm sure Tor would forgive me, after all, this isn't your everyday situation. Oh damn, I forgot. That egg-thing will just bounce my Mindprobe back in my face.*
Cal considered swearing for a moment, then changed her mind. She had the oddest feeling that she would have more cause to later. *For once in my life I hope I'm wrong. Wait, maybe it would be more correct to say for once in the past week I hope I'm wrong.*
The group was a large, milling pack, all revolving on a few center people. One was probably the leader, the other the mage who had set the trap. She decided to play dumb, not revealing any more power then a weak hedge wizard.
Their voices were rough, harsh. The people they belonged to were stocky men, brown haired, brown eyed country folk, reminding Calsa of her slender, dark haired, pale eyed appearance. *Damn.* And they spoke some foreign language, hard inflections and very few soft sounds that she could make no sense of.
The one Cal had taken to be the mage smiled at her, and said something in a falsely kind and cheerful tone. Not that it mattered, she couldn't tell what he was saying, but it was so fake that she nearly choked.
Two things happened so quickly that Cal didn't have the time to react. The trap came down, shocking her after all her prying, and someone seized her from behind. *The best attack,* Cal thought grimly, *is the one no one sees coming. That was the best attack.*
But the mage, Master level, Calsa could see now, had made the stupidest mistake possible. He had released her bindings, and she was in no mood to be kind.
She twisted, fighting the pressure of the man on her back, trying to force her to the ground. She bucked the man off her back, and at the same time, blessed the boys of Fire Mountain, who had gotten into so many fights that it was impossible for even the densest not to pick up *some* tricks. He backed off glaring warily.
The mage got a fireball in his face, and Cal flung up her shields. *Shields.* The cage came back. *Ah, hells. Now I'm in for it.*
The gesture that the man made was unmistakably crude, and the one she had thrown said something in a tone that was . unpleasantly suggestive. She didn't have to be an expert to tell that he was peeved. *So, time for a surprise.*
Cal reached down under her for the nearest leyline. It did not fight her control, and, leaving her shields up, she let it feed into the space between the cage and her shield. The Journeyman sought another line, and then another. Then, channeling all the magic she could into that space, the magic caused it to explode.
The bandits whipped back in fear, the mage stepped forwards threateningly. She directed a levinbolt in his direction, barely missing his ear. He stepped back, but the others approached, brandishing weapons. And as they harried her, the mage sent bolts of power that narrowly missed her.
Cal fought like a mountain cat, her walking staff whipping into the faces and groins of her attackers, keeping them a little away. The mage leered at her and sent a particularly nasty little bolt at her.
*Demonsbane. I'm the victim and the only one, and that damned cockeyed little bastard just stands there and waves his hands. Why don't I ever get a break like that?* Cal wasn't really sure how long she could both evade the bolts and the weapons, so she dropped her shields to try to pick up the group's next move.
But a large axe falling inches from her face made her forget that plan. :HELP: she mindscreamed, not even aware that she did so. :DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN! NOT GOOD! I'M GONNA DIE! OH GODS I'M GOING TO DIE!:
She was wrong for the first time that week.
Something, she wasn't sure what, entered the far end of the throng, kicking and slashing it's way through the mass of people. The bandits dropped like flies under it's attack, and some space was cleared for it. The unknown made it's way towards her. :Shields up!: it barked.
The mage flinched when he saw her defender, the group turned tail and ran, giving Calsa the opportunity to look at it.
The white coat was flecked with blood, the proud head held defiantly. There was no mistaking who - or what - this snowy apparition was. The Companion's deep blue eyes stared into her own, and she heard her second sentence from *her* Companion, her own Companion.
:My name is Joshaylin, Calsa and I Choose you.: She wrapped her arms around the stallion's neck. :Thank you, Joshaylin.:
:You know,: the Companion said after a moment. :You can just call me Josh. It's easier.:
:Ok, Josh, call me Cal. And where in Shadowstalker's name are we?:
:Karse-Hardon border, near the Empiric border.:
:Well, how long will it take us to get to Haven, as I assume is your goal.:
:Six, seven weeks. Depends on the traffic.:
She felt her good humor coming back. :Well, in case you hadn't noticed, there's *no* traffic here.:
The Companion snorted, and the two proceeded westwards, towards Valdemar, towards fate.
***
Calsa awoke a week later to feel eyes boring into her back. Her run-in with the bandits had taught her caution. :Josh?: she asked. :Are you awake?: No answer.
Cal rolled over slowly, as if she were still asleep, eyes slits, trying to see her attacker. But what she saw caused her to widen them in surprise.
Identical silver eyes regarded her cheerfully, the hair that framed the strong face was black, though streaked thickly with silver. The proud features were so similar that she couldn't help blurting out the name.
'Vanyel?' she whispered softly.
***
Shadowwalker: As, for once, I am the only one here, I'll ask everyone, what did you think?
Winddancer: Hawk! Come here for a minute. *Shadowwalker starts muttering in annoyance, Stormwing glares at him and he shuts up.*
Stormwing: I guess I should've taken one from the other nest.
Hawk: Huh?
Stormwing: It was supposed to be a Christmas present, how about late Halloween treat? *thrusts something small and rocking into a confused Hawk's hands.*
Hawk: *shrieks* A firelizard egg! Oh my god thanks! *does a happy dance.* and it's hatching! *everyone watches as egg cracks open, Shadowwalker looks bored.*
Fire-lizard: meep! *Stares at Hawk*
Hawk: *Stares at Fire-lizard.*
Stormwing: They're busy now, more later. So review.
Hawk: Pie and cake and brownies for everyone who puts in a review. Whatever you want. *Goes back to staring at fire-lizard.*
