Disclaimer: Valdemar & concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey. The lyrics are from "Tell Me I Was Dreaming" by Travis Tritt. Original characters and this story belong to their author.
Notes: The end of this chapter (and some parts of future chapters) are based on what Judith Tarr created in her story, Rebirth, which was featured in the latest Valdemar anthology ("Sun In Glory"). I liked the idea of the Great Companions that oversee Valdemar from the Havens—like the Gods, but unlike as well. So it's loosely based on that. Yup.
MARIONETTE
Chapter One: Tell Me I Was Dreaming
By Senashenta
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When I woke up this morning
Wiped the sleep from my eyes
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At the edge of what remained of the forest, a pair of silver shadows ghosted between the burnt-out ruin of trees and brush, pacing anxiously, wanting to run, and yet not daring to leave. They hovered near the edge of what had once been the town of Cordor, waiting for two people—a man and a woman—whom they would not live without.
Throughout the war that was raging between their homeland and their sworn enemies, many such scenes had taken place, as many missions sent Heralds and Herald-Mages across enemy lines in search of a weakness in the Karsite ranks.
Cordor, though, had once been a Valdemarian town, though it had been overrun by the Karsite armies a long time before—but there were still Valdemarian people there, kept as hostages and used as leeway by the Karsites. The town itself was expendable: it could be rebuilt, once the fighting subsided, but lives could not be replaced with such ease.
:Anything yet?:
Dali's worried Voice broke the mental Silence that had fallen over them, and she looked toward the other Companion, crystal eyes flashing worriedly through the darkness of a starless night. Her companion, Auralee, returned the look with equal concern, and shook her head slowly in a remarkably human way: :nothing from Oran... and Rist—:
:No. I haven't heard anything from her, either.: Dali sighed softly, and turned her eyes back to the encampment that they were skirting. :I don't like this, Auralee—they've been in there for two days, and with the Shields the Karsites have around that place I can't even Feel Rist at all...:
Auralee knew how she felt. The fact that she hadn't Felt even the ghost of Oran's mind in almost two whole days was making her heart reside in her throat and her stomach twist into an unrecognizable lump: good or bad, they wouldn't know either way under Oran and Ristav came out from behind the Karsites Shields—one way or another...
-
Found a new day dawning
And suddenly I realize
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:Dali. Auralee.:
The Mindvoice was masculine, and easily recognizable as coming from the Grove Born, who was stationed, along with Monarch's Own Herald Colby, at the nearest of Valdemar's strongholds: he had wanted to be one of those to make the Cordor run, as had Herald Colby, but the other Heralds and Companions—not to mention the Crown—had insisted they not go. They were too badly needed to be lost on a mission such as that.
And so they were currently at Sensholding with a handful of Valdemarian troops—all the main army could spare—and waiting anxiously for word from Oran and Rist. But as the hours ticked by, they were losing hope of ever seeing the two Heralds again—that much was obvious from the tone to Gwydion's Voice when he Spoke to either Dali or Auralee—or both—
:Have Oran or Ristav come back, yet?:
The two mares exchanged glances, and Dali replied in a strained tone; :no... we haven't heard from them.:
:I see...:
What no one wanted to address was the idea that the Shields between themselves and the Karsites might be... blocking more than just Mindspeech. There was a possibility that Herald Oran and Herald Ristav were already dead, but no one, including their Companions, knew about it.
:Grove Born: Dali said softly, :do you think that Rist and Oran will... do you think they'll come back?:
Gwydion had asked Dali repeatedly to call him by his name, instead of the honorific "Grove Born", but this time he ignored the title, concentrating instead on the simple, horrible question: :I... don't know, Dali. I hope they will, but...:
:You don't want to make any promises.: Auralee finished for him, and Dali turned sad eyes toward her. :That's fine, Gwydion... we know. But we... Oran and Rist volunteered for this, and... we knew the risks going in to it.:
Her words wouldn't make the stallion feel better about things, but she felt he needed to know—what?—that she didn't blame him or his Chosen in any way. Both of them tended to try bearing everything on their own shoulders, to spare others from pain and suffering, but she wouldn't let them do so—not then. Not when they had already tried, and failed, to take the burden on themselves, as always.
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You're gone
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:Colby and I should have been the ones to go.:
:No, Grove Born.: Dali insisted firmly; :even if you had gone, at least one other Herald would have had to accompany Herald Colby, and both of you are more needed in this war than... than Rist and myself. Or Auralee and Oran.:
:Don't say that.: Gwydion said softly.
:It's true.: Auralee sighed, :Gwydion... we'll... let you know when we hear something.:
He sent a vague feeling of sad agreement, and then withdrew his mind from theirs, leaving them to continue their vigil without him. Dali closed her eyes and allowed her head to droop downward toward the ground. Auralee blinked slowly and then turned her attention back toward the village, which stood as silent and ominous as it had since their arrival.
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Tell me I was dreaming
That you didn't leave me here to cry
-
The night came and went, as all nights do, almost painful in the slowness of the hours creeping by. Neither of the young mares had slept—indeed, it had been nearly three days since they last did—and weariness was beginning to wear at them, leaving them frayed at the edges.
Yet they continued to stand their vigil, tired and frustrated as they were, waiting with strained patience, and hoping for something—anything—even the barest whisper of reassurance that their Heralds had not been stripped away from them—
:Dali-:
Dali's ears flicked and her head jerked upward, eyes widening. :Rist! Ristav! Auralee, it's—Ristav!:
Her hooves flashed in the dawn hours as she danced backward a handful of steps, and Auralee's ears swiveled forward, her own eyes flicking to her friend. :Rist! What's going on?: The joy of hearing from Rist after so long was muted by the very real hint of urgency in the woman's Mindvoice, and Dali was only too aware of it. :Please, please tell me you and Oran are alright! Please tell me we're leaving now!:
:Dali, listen to me.: Rist sounded hushed and strained, and Dali assumed it was because of the Shields. :I won't be able to keep this Link working for long through the Shields they have around Cordor, but I need you to be ready... Dali, Oran has been hurt—they know he's a Herald, and they're planning on using him as leeway—but they don't know about me yet, and he won't tell them a thing.: She paused as the connection between them faltered, fading, and then returned; :I won't leave him here, so I need you to create a distraction—I need time to get him out—:
:What can we—Rist, what can we do?:
:Anything, Dali. Just... distract the soldiers long enough for me to get us out.: She faded out once more, and then; :this is it, love. If we don't manage this, Oran and I will never get out of here, and it'll be up to you to tell everyone what happened—:
:But—we-:
Silence, and Ristav's presence vanished from her mind once more, leaving her head strangely empty. Dali whuffed nervously, nose twitching, and turned to face Auralee, who was watching her expectantly, crystal eyes betraying her own fear. :Dali, Ristav—:
:Auralee—we don't have much time...:
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You didn't say you don't love me anymore
And it was just my imagination telling lies
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Auralee didn't question her when Dali, without an explanation of any kind, simply turned and headed toward the town they were standing guard over. Instead, she tried to ignore the feeling that was growing in her heart—the feeling that something was wrong—the feeling that there was a reason Oran hadn't been the one to make contact with them—the feeling that her life was about to change, and not necessarily for the better—
There were no guards at the entrance to Cordor, though a blockade had been constructed to keep anyone from coming or going. It had been built from the trees of the surrounding forest—before the remainder of the area had been burnt beyond recognition in a conscious effort to destroy anything of value that might have been left behind by the Karsite forces.
The barely-recognizable and yet at the same time familiar trees and brush were piled high into the morning sky, and both Companions stared upward, eyes trailing toward the top and waiting there, hoping for inspiration, hoping for—
:Rist needs a diversion.: Dali told Auralee finally, :but I don't—what can we do? Auralee—:
Her friend frowned mentally, her eyes continuing to flit from tree to tree, from branch to branch, from bush to bush—and then, after a long moment of silence, determination set in, visible in the depths of her gaze, and she walked forward until her nose was only inches away from the wall that separated them from their loved ones.
Then she grasped a protruding branch firmly in her teeth, and yanked with all her might—
The blockade didn't fall apart immediately.
Undeterred, Auralee continued pulling, heaving her bulk backward, putting all of her weight behind her effort. Her hooves dug deep furrows into the dirt beneath her, and her eyes squeezed closed as she struggled to pull the single, medium-sized branch loose from the rest of the wall... and then Dali stepped in from the side to grasp another jutting hunk of wood—
The bulk of the wall shifted, creaking, and something inside of it snapped with an echoing crack.
:Pull!:
Together, the two of them heaved themselves backward with all of their might, hooves scrabbling for purchase as the dirt shifted beneath their feet and the blockade began to rock to one side, yanking both of them along with it—and then, suddenly, with no warning, the branch they were pulling on gave way, cracking somewhere deep within the wall, and the two of them stumbled backward, propelled by their own strength—
Though they had been prepared for the result of their tampering, both mares had to scramble out of the way when, groaning and cracking, the wall shifted too far for it's own stability to stand and began to crumble as they beat a hasty retreat, returning to the edges of the forest as a cloud of dust and flecks of sawdust rose into the sky, blocking out the morning light for a few seemingly endless moments...
:Distraction enough?: Auralee panted, shaking her head to rid her mane of dirt and bits of tree.
Dali blinked through the haze of the dust cloud, and stifled a sneeze when the remnants of the wall tickled at the end of her nose. :I hope so.: even though the blockade was gone, the Karsite Shields still remained, and she had no way of knowing for sure-:I really do hope so...:
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I'm in a state of confusion
I hope things aren't what they seem
-
They didn't have to wait long for the results of their actions to make themselves known. Sooner than either of them would have thought possible, a pair of figures began to become visible, through the haze of dust.
It could only have been Heralds Oran and Ristav—with both figures moving as quickly as possible, but one supporting the other as it limped along painfully, leaving a dark trail in its wake—and both Companions uttered shouts of surprise when the humans finally stepped past the reach of the Karsite's Shields.
Suddenly, painfully, their minds rushed to fill their previous places, and Auralee and Dali danced uneasily when a rush of alien emotions flooded past their own Shields to run rampant in the back of their minds. Fear—pain—hurt—loss—hurt—determination—hope—pain—desperation—pain—hope—hope—hopelessness—fear—hurt—pain—fear—
—duty—
The Heralds emerged from the cloud of dust, coughing and wheezing, Oran trailing blood that ran freely from a deep, raw wound in his side, and for a moment, neither mare could move. Then other figures made themselves seen, moving purposely through the haze, and sapphire eyes widened as both Auralee and Dali threw themselves forward, leaping into a desperate and uneven gallop and hoping beyond hope that they could reach their Heralds before the oncoming Karsite troops.
Silver hides, turned yellow and streaked with the brown of dirt, flashed across the space between them and Oran and Ristav. Hooves thundered against the barren ground and echoed hollowly, along with the frantic hearts, in the ears of souls who had everything to live for—
But the enemy had weapons—bows, and arrows—and even as Dali reached Rist's side, a rain of death began to fall around them.
Herald Oran shoved Rist away, half-forcing her up onto her Companion's back, and before she could so much as open her mouth, Dali had spun and leapt, racing back the way she had come and passing Auralee on the way as Rist shouted half-coherent curses into her back-turned ears and screamed for her to turn back around—to turn back around and—
Auralee skidded to a stop next to her Chosen, maneuvering herself between him and the Karsites even as he was reaching for the saddle and clamping blood-slicked and weakened hands onto the trim to heave himself into onto her back. He slipped—grasped again—managed to half-lift himself into the saddle—
An arrow lanced out of the darkness, colliding with Oran's chest and throwing him backward away from Auralee.
:ORAN—:
Shrieking, Auralee whirled, hooves slipping in the blood what was splashed down to the ground from Oran's original wound and pooled there—her movement flecked red up her legs nearly to her knees, but she ignored the macabre sight in favor of her Chosen, who was—
The tip of the arrow that had struck him seemed to have broken off when Oran fell back onto the ground, and blood was gushing from the new wound, coloring the ground beneath him an ugly crimson and tainting his lips a deep, dark red. A thin trail of blood ran from the left side of his nose, trailing down his cheek and dripping across his chin to pool at the hollow of his throat as he struggled to raise his head from the dirt.
"A-Auralee—run—please—run and—"
Gurgling sounded from deep in his chest, where the arrow had been driven deep into one of his lungs.
Oran—no—no—: her heart tightened painfully in her chest and her eyes danced across his face as he gasped for breath through his ruined lung. Desperately, she craned her neck down to nudge at his shoulder, then glanced behind herself to the Karsite soldiers. Oran—Chosen—get up and on my back. We can—we can get you help—we can get you to Sensholding and a Healer and—and—and they'll fix you up—and you'll be as good as new—:
One of his hands raised slowly and he touched her nose, leaving a smear of his own blood in the wake of his fingers. The gurgling in his chest continued, and his eyes shone with tears—they trailed down his cheeks to mix with the growing sea of read underneath him. "Just... j-just run, Auralee... just run..."
:No... no...:
"Please—run and—please—"
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If this is really happening
Just let me go back to dream
You're home
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:AURALEE!:
Dali's voice.
So loud—
—so very loud—
It pierced through the haze of pain and grief, and made Auralee jerk her head upward. Drops of blood flew from her nose and Oran's hand dropped back to the ground, a soft splashing noise following the motion as it connected with the blood and tears he had already shed.
The other Companion—and her Chosen—had stopped just inside the edge of the burnt-out forest, and both watched with wide, horrified eyes as Oran fell, dying, and Auralee stood over him while the soldiers continued their approach. :Auralee—you and Oran—you have to get out of there! Before it's too late!:
Auralee shook her head. :I can't—Oran is hurt and—:
"Auralee..." Oran's voice was barely a whisper, almost eclipsed by the sound of his lungs drowning in his own blood and the slowing thumps as his heart continued to try to beat, despite the extent of his injuries. He coughed weakly, and crimson blood expelled from his chest and blossomed in the air above his lips. "R-run..."
She couldn't.
She couldn't leave him behind—would never do such a thing! Panic had set in, and Auralee found herself unable to move—found her own breath choked off, the same as Oran's was—found her own heart beating so fast it could do the work for his, too—and she wished—wished that it could—wished that she could get him up onto her back and to a Healer—wished that—
"Run..." he repeated, and her head once more jerked toward him—jerked toward him just in time to see his chest rise once more—rise high as he breathed one final, deep breath—in time to see his back arch out of the lake of blood beneath him—and then fall back as his last breath fell past paling, blue lips, stained in stark, shocking red—
His pupils focused on something she couldn't see—something directly in front of him—and his pupils dilated sharply—then rolled upward—rolled upward and vanished behind his eyelids—replacing the deep, chocolate brown she loved so much with stark, flat white—
OranOranOran!
Auralee's lungs constricted painfully.
He couldn't be gone.
He couldn't.
He—
Was gone.
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Tell me I was dreaming
That you didn't leave me here to cry
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No... no...
A scream rose in her throat and mind, piercing the silence that followed Oran's passing, and she shrieked up at the unoffending clouds.
NO!
Rage blossomed in her heart and burned behind her eyes. Her body seemed to be made of wood—stiff and rough—as she turned slowly, swinging her head around to glare raw hatred at the Karsites. And it was clear that the soldiers saw and understood the emotion that roared in her flashing, angry crystal of her eyes.
A wave of fear washed through their ranks, and the ones who lead the group faltered. The grips they held on their weapons tightened, and their eyes widened hugely—but Auralee saw none of that. All she saw, through the haze of loss—pain—rage—fear were the ones who had killed Oran—the ones who had murdered her Chosen—murdered her—and the color in her eyes began to fade out, replaced by a washed out blue-grey that reflected the sky just before a hurricane blew across the land.
:You.: She growled. :You... killed... him...:
One front hoof scraped backward in the dirt, leaving a furrow that quickly filled with the mud that had been created from the mixing of Oran's blood and the ground below his cold—dead—body. Her tail lashed angrily, stinging against her hind legs, but she ignored it.
They had—killed—
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You didn't say you don't love me anymore
And it was just my imagination telling lies
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The screaming of her heart propelled her forward. She raced toward the awaiting Karsite forces, knowing deep in her heart that she wouldn't survive the encounter: she could never win against so many soldiers—so many men with swords—bows—arrows—knives—she would die. She would die, and her own blood would stain the ground.
She could die, and be with Oran once more...
Her hooves and teeth flashed and she spun, thrashing and flailing wildly, kicking and biting and slamming herself against whatever she could manage to catch. Around her, the Karsites screamed—shrieked—struck at her with their weapons, and her blood ran in red rivers, staining her coat and splashing everything around her as she fought.
They had—killed—
Her teeth grasped at a random soldier, connected with flesh, ripped and tore, and she came away
with a mouthful of someone's hand. Fingers that were no longer attached to a human hand lay limp and sticky in her mouth, blood that wasn't her own streaking across her tongue.
She spat, and the bloody digits vanished into the turmoil of mud and dirt at her feet.
They had—
Killed—
Slamming her head sideways, Auralee caught the chest of one of the soldiers and threw him backward out of the way. Shifting her bulk, she bucked and kicked, and her hooves connected with something—the gritty, slick feeling of splashing blood, tearing flesh, and shattering bone gave her a sick sense of satisfaction and fed the roaring fire that still burned in her empty heart and soul.
Killed—
Killed—
They had killed—
Killed Oran—
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Tell me that you didn't say goodbye
-
Something hit her head-on. Pain blossomed in her chest, her breath was knocked from her forcefully, and she gasped against the feeling of cold steel that imposed itself deep in her chest cavity. Her lungs hurt—felt empty and full at the same time. She could taste metal in the back of her throat.
The sword was ripped free, and she stumbled back—
:Auralee! AURALEE!:
Dali again.
Even as she placed the voice, Auralee felt her hind legs giving way. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breath—she couldn't feel anything—
Frantically, desperately, she flung her head around, searching the ground for Oran—
Oran…
He lay where he had fallen, still and silent... gone...
Oran... I'm sorry...
She fell hard, hitting the ground with a force that cracked ribs. She could hear the breaking bone, but couldn't feel it. Was it really her own body that was dying? Her nostrils flared against the cold morning air, and she tried to lift her head from the ground, but found she had no strength left.
Oran... Chosen...
A boot stepped down hard on her neck, forcing her head deeper into the muck beneath her.
I'm sorry I couldn't... protect you...
A sword flashed downward—
I'm sorry...
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Tell me I was dreaming
That you didn't leave me here to cry
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White light, bright and at the same time soothing, surrounded her on all sides. The ground seemed to be made of cloud, but with more consistency. It rolled and shifted, constantly moving under her feet. There was no noise—not the whisper of a breeze or the soft voice of a songbird, but the silence was the same to her ears as a Heavenly Choir.
Where am I?
She wasn't speaking—in vocal speech or Mindspeech—and yet her voice echoed loudly through the she oblivion around her.
You are Nowhere. A voice replied, Nowhere—and Everywhere. You are beyond the Veil.
Auralee held her head high, and flared her nostrils—but as a figure slowly materialized from the rolling cloud and mist, there was no scent. Just as there had been no sound. Who are you? What... what am I doing here?
Was this the Havens? It was so empty... void of love and life...
This is not the Havens. The figure before her had become a Companion—or, It wore the flesh of a Companion. But It was sexless—ageless—and eternity lay beyond the endless sapphire of Its eyes. She stared at It, uncomprehending, and It stared back, but with understanding. This is Nowhere. It repeated, and Everywhere. This is Our domain.
"Our?"
It regarded her solemnly. Auralee—Companion of Valdemar—your mission is not yet complete.
Mission?
You, who lost everything to the Karsite forces, who fought bravely to your very end... your journey is not done. Cryptically, It tipped It's head upward, and breathed deeply. You will unite Valdemar once more, and drive back the forces of Karse. You will lead the people of young country to victory, and earn a place in their history in the process.
What... if I don't want to?
You must. No one else can do this.
But...
You must.
There was no confusion. Somehow, she knew that what It was telling her was true. I... must.
Yes. Tipping It's eyes toward her, It blinked slowly. Now return. Return to the mortal plane.
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You didn't say that you don't love me anymore
And it was just my imagination telling lies
-
A snapping noise rang out, and there was a sharp jerking sensation—
And Auralee's eyes opened once more. Her lungs ached, and she drew in a deep, painful breath—drew in a breath and looked around—at the mud—at the fallen men of Karse—at Oran, who still lay where he had fallen—where he had died—at Dali and Herald Ristav, who were standing at the edges of the forest, wide-eyed and frightened—at the morning sky, which was still streaked with the purples and blues of the dawn—
—at the world she thought she had left behind—
—she looked around—
—looked around—
—looked around herself—
Looked around herself through human eyes.
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Tell me that you didn't say goodbye
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