Neoka lay completely still on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, not so much as twitching a finger.
Inside his head, the Collegium roared.
Neo had just enough Shielding to keep from loosing himself in the chaos… but that was about it. He was too worn out to keep the voices away. It was that simple.
So he lay there while people screamed their worries at him, bitterly sharing their every concern, and telling him every single thought they had on it.
If he closed his eyes and concentrated on not concentrating, their voices ran together unintelligibly. It was slightly easier to deal with, when he couldn't understand most of what they said.
He didn't know how many candle marks he did this. And truthfully, he didn't much care. While he floated through others' contemplations, his body became lax. His mind, completely and utterly drained, soon followed.
***
The maze of channels spread out before him as Neo dreamed, and he immedietly knew he was looking at his own mind. It was too familiar to be interpreted as anything else.
He watched the threads of light with little interest in his half-lidded eyes. He had no desire to dream about himself. He wanted to sleep. He wanted uninterrupted, Havens-sent sleep.
But apparently, he wasn't going to get that.
Sighing, he looked upon the center of himself. The place where all the channels connected. Where some sprouted from, where some began, and where a single one of them pierced through it and kept on going.
He stared at the one in disgust. The thread that declared him a Herald. One Chosen by the mystic Companions to serve Valdemar in any way possible.
He would have kicked it, had he had the use of his feet. Instead, he glared resentfully.
And while he glared and muttered, a small black spot amongst the white became apparent.
What…? He frowned and looked closely at the spot. While he examined it, it seemed to spread, feeding off the glow of his center. Neo did not like the look of that inky blotch. It reminded him too much of… something.
Gathering a small thread of the sea of power inside him, he frowned again at the ink blotch, and reached down to touch the thread with it.
It bolted. It sped down one of his channels like the hounds of all the hells were at its door.
And when it did, Neo felt it move. A zip of hurt followed its path, and Neo bit back a yelp of pain as he threw down the thread of power.
The ink blotch was at his center again, but it looked as if it was going to move through another channel. The one that didn't end or begin with him. The one that connected him to Amaro, and thusly to every other Herald in the kingdom.
With a sharp gasp, Neo grabbed the channel and blocked it with as much power as he could.
The agony following his actions made him shriek. He eased the power off the channel slowly, still crying out as he watched the black spot slowly return to its feeding spot at his center.
When Neo was sure the thing wasn't going to bolt again, and was sure that he couldn't stand another moment of the pain, he eased off the channel all together.
He whimpered painfully as he looked down at his mental-hands. They were raw and bleeding, shaky from nearly severing the connection between him and the Heralds.
And they shook even harder as he remembered what the ink blotch reminded him of.
The Sickness, he whispered silently to himself, the Mage…Vannasa…
His entire being shaking now, Neo watched the small blot of Sickness slither around in his center, feeding off tendrils of power.
I'm infected.
A short distance away, in a moonlit Companion stall, a slender white stallion awoke with a scream of agony.
***
Amaro didn't know if he'd been dreaming. He didn't know why a sudden dread filled him, followed by something just short of terror, and then…
Pain.
Everything faded away in those unbearable moments… no, that unbearable eternity. His mind, his body, everything was drowned and strangled by this unnamable torture.
Somewhere far away, he was writhing and thrashing on the stable floor, screaming with volume loud enough to wake half of Haven. But that part of him was no longer connected, no longer important.
He could only see a pure white channel of energy connected him to someone, he could only hear the blaring roar of that same channel as pain screamed through it, he could only feel the being on the other end squeezing it mercilessly, wringing it with an unshakable grip, cutting off something more vital than air. Amaro cried out and wept and begged the being to stop, but the roaring of the channel and the pain drowned him out.
Slowly, mercifully, the being released his grip, released Amaro. The Companion shook violently as he returned to his body, wheezing loudly as he gasped for air, his eyes clouded into milky white. There was only a hint of sapphire in their depths.
And that scared the humans and Companions standing around him more than his vicious struggling before had.
***
:Get up, Menith! This is bloody serious!: Hyatee's voice rang through Menith's skull like a dazzle-headache, shaking him out of deep slumber faster than a knife to the throat could have.
Menith sat up swiftly, his breath burning in his lungs as he gasped in shock.
:For the love of-: he ran a hand over his face, growling aloud, :Hyatee! Next time you do that, I'm having a bloody heart attack, and taking you with me!:
:Not now, Menith,: Hyatee cut him off, and Menith knew it was important by his tone, :get your arse to the stables. It's about Amaro… and, if I'm not mistaken, Neoka.:
Menith swore violently, bolting out of bed with a springiness that belied his age. He shrugged into his Whites as he ran out of his room and down the corridor.
Half way to the stables, he noticed he was not alone.
"Jhaspar!" he sent a suspicious look to the King's Own, running beside him.
"Menith," the Own returned the glance, "I don't suppose you know what's going on either?"
"Not a bloody clue," Menith growled back as they reached the door leading to Companions Field. They hurtled past it, heading straight for the stables.
Hyatee and Carogan, the Grove Born Companion, were waiting for them outside the entrance.
:Hold, Chosen,: Hyatee tossed his head, stepping forward to stop Menith's momentum and to provide a neck for the Herald to lean on.
"What's happened? Why were we called?" Jhaspar demanded of Carogan while Menith caught his breath.
The Grove Born spoke so both Heralds could hear him.
:Amaro woke a half candlemark ago, screaming… loud. He's calmed down a bit, now, and we have a Healer looking at him… also, we've gotten a few words out of him finally.:
"What? What did he say?" Menith asked.
:"Neoka,": Hyatee replied, confusion in his voice, :all he'll say is "Neoka", or he'll moan. We cant make sense out of him.:
"Can we see him?" Jhaspar asked quietly.
:He's inside,: Carogan gestured with his nose. Jhaspar nodded, entering the stables. Menith followed.
It was immediately apparent where Amaro was. There was a circle of people and Companions surrounding a stall near the back. They made their way towards it.
"This is the last time!" an irate voice sounded from somewhere inside the group, "I told you all to get! Now get! I can't work with all of you breathing on my neck!"
The circle scattered as Menith smiled lop-sidedly. It seemed Healer Y'von was looking after things.
Menith leaned over the stall door, frowning at the sight that greeted him.
Amaro was on his side, his sides rising and falling unevenly, his silvery hide dulled with sweat. Healer Y'von had his head cradled carefully on her lap, her hands on either side of his head. She had a concentrated set to her face.
"Is it something you can fix?" Jhaspar asked softly. Y'von did not look up at them.
"No," she said finally, "I doubt even a MindHealer could do much…"
"What do you mean?" Menith asked.
"From what I can see…" she said hesitantly, brushing Amaro's forelock away from his clouded eyes, "it's nothing physical… it's mental… so I am of little use… but if a MindHealer were brought in here, I think they would see the same thing I do… and no type of Healer can do much for this…"
"What? Do much for what?" Menith asked impatiently. Y'von raised sad eyes to him.
"The bond between Amaro and Neoka has suffered great damage… it's almost as if Amaro tried to Repudiate the boy… but didn't go through with it all the way…"
In her arms, Amaro stirred. His gray eyes bled into slightly tinted blue.
:Neoka!: he moaned in all their minds. Menith furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. There was no connection between the Companion and Neoka. It was all a show… what was going on here?
Amaro continued.
:Neoka,: this time, it was a mere whimper, :stop, stop, please… it hurts…:
Menith felt an unexplainable anger rise within him. Neoka had no business distressing the Companions.
With a soft grunt, Menith turned and left the stables, legs striding for the Collegium. For a certain Blue's room.
Authors note: Not polished, as I'm sure you can tell. My head's about to fall off from stress and exhaustion, so I figured I might as well post what I have and hope for some good reviews to help me make it through the days ahead T_T
Hum… I kinda like this chapter… but that might be sleepiness talking. Tell me if it tickles your fancy… or tickles your unending loathing… or something else all together…
^^ and a big shout-out to my peeps over in SH! I'm in a weird mood, so you get mentioned! *grins and sticks out tongue*
"I neeeeeed the little tacos… I need them or I will explode… that happens to me sometimes…"
Little tacos = reviews
Yay! That's from Invader ZIM… but it's probably all misquoted and stuff… meh, you get the idea ^^
