DISCLAIMER: X-Men: Evo belongs to Warner Bros. And Marvel Comics. I have never, and shall never own them, no matter how much I may want to. I've simply warped them to fit my own twisted mind. However, this fic and any original work herein is officially mine, and anyone trying to steal it will find out how painful a weapon a computer mouse can when used by someone with imagination.
WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film project, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* those movies. Influences rather include InterNutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
~ Hello ~ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: And how are all we today? I'm fine, if slightly swamped with work. I tell you, I'm seriously starting to wonder about a few of my courses. For American Studies I had to write a 2000 word essay about Disney films. Now, I have nothing against Disney, and after a little research I found that quite a number of people have devoted great amounts of time to chronicling and criticising the company, but when I got halfway through one book and found myself reading a passage including the words 'if Belle and the Beast lived together in real life, she would most certainly have become a battered wife' I had to stop, look in the mirror and tell myself 'they forced you to take this subsid. You didn't ask for it.' Morons.
Slating academia aside, here's the next chappie ready for your consumption. Thanks to all who reviewed last time (I have 90 reviews! Most ever! Woo! Maturity? What's that when it's at home?) and especially to the anonymous person who emailed me with story ideas. Scarily, he predicted a whole bunch of stuff that's going to happen in the next few chapters. So, to 'devoted fan' (^____^) this one's for you. Also, since the only real New Mutants fic I came across since last time was one by Skiltch, I hereby dedicate this instalment to those two (that's a compliment, by the way, not an insult, however bad the content below is).
Oh yeah (yeesh, she's verbose today!), this chapter is officially the shortest in the entire fic. Not that you really needed to know that, but there you go. I felt like sharing.
Toodles.
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'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Eleven ~ 'As the Raven Flies'
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'There was never a great man who had not a great mother.' -- Olive Schreiner
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"Who *are* you?"
"I am who I have always been." Ororo replied at length. "Ororo the White. Mother to the Temple of The Way."
"What do you know about my mother?"
"I knew her before she became a husk of her former self."
Kurt blinked, confused. What could she mean, 'husk of her former self'? "I... I don't understand."
Ororo sighed. "I thought as much. You have much to learn, Kurt. About your origins and the world at large."
"Ororo...." Jean gritted, clenching her jaw. She wasn't used to using her telekinesis for prolonged amounts of time, and Kurt's considerable weight was proving to be a strain.
The white-haired woman nodded. "Kurt, I will tell you what you wish to know on one condition - that you control yourself and do not fly off the handle so violently again. This is a peaceful place, and I will not permit such actions within its walls, is that understood?"
Kurt's head bobbed up and down uncertainly, but he whispered softly, "But Rogue...."
"It is true what you say. Rogue is not dead," Ororo conceded. "But be that as it may, you know as well as I do that there is nothing we can do for her at present. If she survives the Shaking Sickness then it will be a welcome miracle, but not one that we can induce ourselves. No, Kurt. This is something she must combat alone. It is her fight."
Where he floated, Kurt drew his knees up to his chest. Faint whimpering escaped his lips; a stark contrast to the snarling demon of only moments ago. Now he sounded more like some bemused and forlorn child. "Alone. Why do I always leave people alone? They try to help me, and get hurt. I'm never there when they need me. I always leave them alone. Abandon them."
"Kurt." Ororo drew closer to him, gesturing to Jean. The telepath gently lowered the elf to the floor with a small sigh of relief.
Kurt crouched, head buried in his knees. It was difficult to believe that this was the same boy who'd cheerfully turned somersaults around this very room not half an hour ago.
~Such a change,~ Ororo thought. ~And I have a feeling that it's not just due to The Rogue's condition. There's more to this than we know.~ "Kurt," she repeated, hunkering down beside him. He looked up at her with eyes soulful enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
"Please," he mumbled, "I need to know. How do you know my mother?"
Ororo let a reluctant breath pass over her lips. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't even sure you were who I thought you were to begin with. I had my suspicions, but... you said things; did things that reminded me. But not enough to convince me of your heritage."
"Then, what you said... about me being the son of Mystique the Seer..."
"Was subterfuge, yes," Ororo said regretfully. "I had to make sure. I'm sorry for distressing you, but once you've heard my story then I'm sure you'll understand why I did it."
The dark-skinned woman nodded imperceptibly at her 'children', who all retired to sitting positions so as not to detract from what she was saying. Gradually, a respectful hush fell upon the small room, with only the odd choking sob from Kitty piercing the air.
Jean looked down at the younger girl, still clasped in her arms. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, but she was still in the world of the living. Other than that, she seemed totally unaware of what was going on around her.
~Shock,~ Jean thought wryly. ~But who wouldn't be after reliving their own parents' deaths?~
Ororo sat, cross-legged beneath the folds of her robe. She rested her hands demurely in her lap, and stared solidly at some point close to the ceiling as she spoke.
"Mystique. I wasn't sure to begin with. When I knew her she didn't go by that name. To me, she will always be Raven the Dark. But I suppose circumstances dictated that she changed her identity." She sighed. "You see Kurt, many years ago - long before you were born - your mother was a member of The Way. She lived at this very temple, as an Underling, and then as an Initiate. I remember her well. A conscientious girl, always exceeding her quota of work with good grace and affability. Never was she too downhearted not to spare a smile for anyone she met, and I can honestly say that I never heard a word spoken against her as she grew up amongst us. Finally, I chose her as my acolyte. She trained for years as my apprentice, and was to become the next Temple Mother after my time was ended."
"Then why didn't she?" Kurt asked. It didn't make sense. How could Ororo be speaking of the same person he knew? Mystique was - had been, he corrected himself with a wince - genial, it was true, but kept herself to herself and only saw people when they came to her for business reasons. Never once had she sought out any company but his own, and Kurt knew for certain that she had been in possession of no friends in or around the Black Forest. So how could a young Pellae-Azuulle with such a bright future end up living a reclusive life in a tent in the middle of a forest, with only her misshapen son for companionship?
"Because a young spirit is easy to sway, and machinations of the heart are difficult to control," Ororo responded cryptically. "Raven's abilities were unique for us at the time. Back then Changelings had not yet begun to appear, and Raven was the only one of her people who chose our way of life. Consequently, we knew little of how her Seeing powers worked, and trusted that she herself would be able to control and use them as she saw fit without any intervention from us. I see now how foolish we were. She learned as she grew by way of trial and error, honing her abilities and refining them with every passing day. Yet even she was ignorant as to the integral workings of her powers." Here she paused.
Kurt raised his face and glanced across at the older woman. A stray lock of snowy hair fell across Ororo's cheek, accentuated by her tanned skin. "What happened? Why did she leave here?"
"We know now that a Pellae-Azuulle 'sees' by accessing different plains of existence and viewing possible outcomes of future events. However, this does carry some degree of risk, as when not done properly, she can accidentally gain access to a different world altogether. This was the case with your mother. Whilst trying to perfect her second sight, Raven accidentally opened a portal to another realm. And it was from this that a being came who would change her life - and ours - forever. For you see, Raven had unwittingly made contact with one of the Seven Hells, and her 'visitor' was a demon."
Ororo paused as this piece of information sank in. She knew that none of the other Underlings or Initiates in the room were aware of this tale, and listened as a short intake of breath was issued from several locations. Somehow, in an intensely mortal way, it felt good to share the secret she'd guarded for so long. Almost liberating.
Eventually she continued, but not before shooting Kurt an inquisitive look. He was huddled in on himself, face not visible, but long pointed ears pricked and obviously drinking in every word. Her gaze lingered a moment on those ears, remembering their origin. She'd met other Pella-Azul in the years since Raven's departure, both male and female, and knew how different Kurt looked compared to them, even if he himself was unaware.
She took a breath for strength. She'd come too far to stop now, and continued slowly and evenly. "His name was Amo-Cara. He was a minor demon from the First Hell, who inadvertently got sucked through Raven's portal and trapped here in Earth-Realm. Unable to reopen the gateway immediately, and worried about what we might say, Raven hid him from us until she figured out how to send him back again. But it was in those months when she fervently worked to retrace her steps that the seeds of her fate were planted and sowed.
"Raven spent much time with Amo-Cara whilst she attempted to extricate him, and gradually the two became very close. He was not very old - for a demon - and since his residence was the First Hell, the darkness within him was small. The particulars are lost to me, but eventually..." she paused, and then sighed. A deep, heartfelt noise. "Eventually... Raven and Amo-Cara fell in love."
More gasping. Ororo evaded their eyes, not wanting to see their reactions lest they be unfavourable. Raven had been precious to her - almost a daughter. Recalling events was painful, as had been the initial realisation that their relationship wasn't as trust-filled as she'd thought.
"However, it could not last. Amo-Cara had a job to return to - for that was all he viewed his work in the First Hell as, a job, and even demons must answer to higher powers. When Raven could not reopen her portal, The Evil One himself took a hand in their plight and called Amo-Cara back. All this came to pass without anyone knowing of it, and when Amo-Cara was forcibly removed from our world, The Evil One masqueraded it as a fierce storm that raged outside our gates for many hours.
"Afterwards, Raven became withdrawn, and spoke little to people. Her customary smiles became less frequent, she ate less, and her social appearances were non-existent. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, and we could only watch as she faded before our very eyes into a mere shade of the girl she'd once been.
"Finally, after months of waning, Raven vanished one night, leaving behind only a note for me to find. In this note she told of Amo-Cara and how she'd loved him so, and how he'd returned her love despite what he was. When he left, she'd pined for him to the point where she no longer wanted to live any more if she had to live without him. It was then that she discovered she was to bear his child, and, ashamed of how her consorting with a demon would reflect on the Temple, had fled.
"I never showed anyone the note. It was her desire that only I knew of what she'd done, so I burned it as per her wishes, and told people she'd run away to rejoin her family so they could help her learn how to control her abilities. That was seventeen years ago. I've never spoken of her since. Not until today."
There was silence for a moment.
"How did you know? That I was her son?" Kurt asked softly.
"I was being truthful when I said a traveller had passed through here telling tales of a Seer in the Black Forest. A Pellae-Azuulle, who went by the name of Mystique the Seer and lived alone save for a small child. I knew then that it was her. That was my nickname for her, you see. Mystique. And she called me Storm." For a moment, Ororo looked profoundly sad.
"I never knew," Kurt breathed. "All this time, and she never said a word. Never told me a thing." He turned to the Temple Mother. "She never forgot him. Amo-Cara, I mean. Never. She... she kept mementoes of him, you see... tokens, and... and..." His golden eyes went wide. "Gods, it was *you* he was talking about."
"Pardon?" Ororo said, confused.
"In the love notes Amo-Cara sent my mother. I... I found them by accident... he referred to a 'prison with the gaoler of ageless white.' I... I think he was talking about this place... and *you*."
A brown hand strayed to her snowy locks, and Ororo gave a half-smile. "Perhaps one day, when Jean has taken over from me in my duties, I will journey into the Black Forest and seek out my old friend. I would dearly like to see Raven again."
At once, a flash of regret blossomed across Kurt's face. "You can't," he said simply, voice suddenly devoid of emotion.
Ororo seemed surprised. "Then after all this time, she still isn't able to face me? Is her shame really that great?"
"No. It's not that at all."
"Then why?"
Kurt gulped, throat constricting slightly and tears threatening to leak down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Because.... because she's dead." There, he'd said it. Now they could know of how he was responsible for his mother's death and despise him for it just as much as he still did himself.
Ororo said nothing for a moment. And when she did speak, her tone was flat, her voice hoarse. "How?"
"Rogue came to her for a vision, and some assassins followed her there," Kurt gritted. "They were tracking her... my... my mother knew they were coming - she was a Seer, how could she not? - and what they would do when they reached us. So... so she sent me away... but... but she stayed behind... to protect me. So they wouldn't know which way I'd gone. And... and they... they murdered her." He snivelled a little. "She never told me, or else I would've stayed too, or got her away to someplace safe. She lied... she said she'd be there waiting for me when I returned from my adventures, but now... now... It's my fault. It's all my fault. She died trying to save me."
More silence. Then; "Oh Raven." Ororo didn't sound bereft, but her whisper held more sorrow then a torrent of hysterical screaming ever could. Her eyes swiftly deepened with unspoken grief, and the aura surrounding her became a little less brilliant as she silently grieved for the friend she'd lost twice in one lifetime.
It was as if the world had suddenly become a darker place. Everyone in the room felt it. Like a thick fog, a feeling of despair settled over them, and they vicariously felt the pain of those who had known the one called Raven the Dark and Mystique the Seer. The air around them seemed lifeless and dank with regret. Regret at words not said. Regret at things not done. Regret of emotions never spoken of until it was too late. Just... regret.
Finally, Kurt spoke. "Mother remembered this place. I often wondered where her robes came from. Now I know. Never took them off unless she was sleeping. She missed it... and you. All of this." He gestured with one hand around the room and the buildings beyond and sighed. "So now I know. Now I know why we lived alone in the forest. And why she always seemed so sad. It was because of me."
Blue eyes regarded him enigmatically. "How is it because of you, Kurt?"
"She was hiding me away. She must have been ashamed of me - of where I came from. Of what giving birth to me forced her to give up." He chuckled harshly. "I can't understand why she didn't just throw me in a river as soon as I was born."
Ororo's head snapped around. "Don't you *ever* say anything like that ever again! Your mother *loved* you; otherwise she wouldn't have sacrificed so much to take care of you. She loved Amo-Cara, but their happiness was never meant to be. *That* was why she was unhappy. In my opinion, your birth served to alleviate that unhappiness. You gave her a reason to live again, Kurt. A link to the one she loved but could never have. That she could ever be ashamed of you is inconceivable! If you ever thought that, it would be a betrayal of everything she did, everything she suffered to bring you into this world."
All assembled were shocked at this display of vehemence from the usually calm and composed woman. Ororo collected herself, smoothing down a few stray wisps of hair and closing her eyes. She drew a deep breath, letting it filter slowly out of her mouth as she regained control of her emotions.
Kurt just stared at her. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered at last.
"Don't be," she replied in a more even voice. "Just remember how much Raven loved you. I know you blame yourself for her passing, Kurt," She hesitated over the word 'passing'. Even for her, 'death' was too strong to use at present. It was too absolute. Too callous. "But you have to remember, she *chose* not to tell you what she knew. She cared about you so much she was willing to give up her own life for your well-being. I beg of you; don't squander it blaming yourself for something you can't change. Remember your mother for what she did for you, not what you've convinced yourself you did to her."
Kurt gazed at the sage female. He'd never thought about it that way before. And yet, when Ororo rationalized things in that husky baritone of hers, they seemed true to the point of being indisputable.
He swallowed. "Thank you."
Ororo smiled again. "And now we know why you felt so strongly about The Rogue - "
"Please, it's just Rogue."
"All right. Rogue. You blame yourself for what happened to her too, don't you?"
He averted his eyes. "She was trying to protect me. Us."
"Did the Displacer Beast attack her?"
He blinked. "Wha- Ja. Yes, it did."
"Then it stands to reason that she was also defending herself. You can't blame yourself for something like that, Kurt. You were not the one who sent the creature after Rogue, and from what I understand, you tried to help her when she was in difficulties. Am I right?"
Kurt nodded, but his gaze still held a spark of self-culpability. Ororo decided to change tack.
"What would Rogue say if she heard you pitying yourself so? Because that's exactly what your doing. Indulging in selfish pity."
Kurt thought for a moment. "She'd... she'd probably tell me I was being stupid, call me a Kaju, and tell me to get off my fuzzy butt and do something useful."
"Sage advice if ever I heard it. So what do you intend to do?"
"I.... I guess I'll get off my fuzzy butt and do something useful," he said after a moment. A vague smile split his cerulean face. "And pray."
"We'll all pray for her. At present, it's all we can do. But don't be discouraged. Prayer has worked miracles in the past."
Kurt's small smile widened slightly. "Thank you, Ororo. For everything."
She brushed off his gratitude by raising one elegant hand. "Save your thanks, Kurt. Though my old friend is lost to me, I can still help her son. And so, in a way, she is still with me. In spirit."
She got gracefully to her feet, smoothing down her magenta robes and brushing the copious amounts of dust that had gathered upon the fabric off to go swirling away through the still air. Kurt followed her lead, albeit somewhat slower, and stretched himself when he was upright. Several of the vertebrae in his spine crackled as they realigned, causing Jubilee and Jean both to wince, but he appeared not to notice, and released a relieved lungful of breath at the increased comfort he now felt - both physically and mentally.
However, a strange look crossed his face, and he offered his next question up to the open air, trusting that someone would provide the answer to it. "There's something I just don't understand, though. Why didn't meine Mutter tell me who my father was? If she loved him so much, then why did she keep his identity a secret from me for so long?"
With practised ease, Ororo opened her mouth to answer, and everyone else held their tongues since their Temple Mother had decided to reply. It was not her status that caused them to act this way, but the simple respect she inspired from them. Ororo the White was the kind of person who could command esteem without saying a word or moving a muscle, though she always contested her 'children' for treating her higher than themselves.
Yet before the first wise utterances could leave her throat, Ororo was silenced by a commotion that suddenly started up not a few feet to her left.
Jean leaned back slightly as a still-disorientated Kitty tried valiantly to sit up. The younger girl was trembling, but refused aid and looked squarely at her furry companion from where she sat across the room from him. He gazed at her curiously, and she met his gaze like for like. Eyes never wavering, despite her body's unsteadiness.
"K-Kurt," she stuttered. "You went through a lot as a child. You said so yourself. Your... your mother knew what her clients called you, didn't she? The names and insults they used."
Slowly, Kurt nodded.
"What d-did most people call you when they first s-saw you?"
He pondered this momentarily. "Nothing nice. Monster. Fiend. Demon."
A gasp; not of surprise, but effort. "And did that hurt you?"
Kurt thought back to a picture book he'd once been given by a particularly spiteful child who'd accompanied her father as he visited Mystique many years ago. He'd been about seven years old, and it had been an illustrated children's book about myths and monsters in and around Earth-Realm.
On one page had been a particularly gruesome picture of thin, dancing figure with wickedly pointed horns and a spaded tail spurting out of its blistery red backside. It had been depicted as dancing on top of a veritable mountain of human remains, with a black pitchfork in one clawed hand and the remains of a mutilated head swinging by its hair in the other. The girl had leaned over him as he looked at the horrific image, pointed to it with one podgy finger and told him; "That's you."
The incident had rattled him so much that he'd been unable to sleep for a week, and several times Mystique had been woken by his screams as he experienced nightmares, and then clung to her, sobbing and whispering; "I'm not gonna grow up to be like that, am I Mama? I'm not a monster, am I?"
Even now, he recalled the hurt in her eyes as he asked her that, and could almost feel her soft hands lovingly stroking his hair as she murmured; "No, my love. You're no monster. You're my little boy. My beautiful little boy. Hush now. There's nothing to be afraid of. Hush. Mama's here."
Kurt blinked. "Ja. They hurt me."
"So your mother probably didn't want to cause you any more pain by telling you that your father actually *was* a demon," Kitty reasoned. She breathed hard, but refused to stop talking. For once, nobody commented on her verbal diarrhoea. "Y-you already felt upset because you were different from other kids... and I'll bet she didn't want to hurt you more by, like, compounding it. If she l-loved Amo-Cara, then she didn't want to risk you hating him because of things... because of things other people had told you about demons. Perhaps she was going to... to tell you one day, when you were old enough not to be influenced b-by, like, prejudice..."
"But she never got the chance," Kurt finished grimly. Kitty nodded, and then rested her forehead in her hand, obviously made dizzy by the action.
Kurt crossed the room and knelt by her side, all other feelings forgotten as an intense anxiety for her swept through him. "Kätzchen, are you OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him through gritted teeth. "Just a little headache. Nothing for you to, like, worry about."
Unnoticed by either of them, Jean raised one eyebrow. That was the first time she'd heard near-descent into insanity referred to as 'a little headache.'
Suddenly, a voice threw out a mental command, knowing that with her telepathic abilities, she'd be able to hear it and nobody else would. The ultimate assurance of privacy.
~Just, like, leave it, OK? He's got enough on his plate without worrying about me and my problems. Just let him alone. I want him to be happy.~
Kitty's blue eyes slid sideways for the merest fraction of a second, giving physical emphasis to what her cerebral voice had already directed. It wasn't needed, however. Even the weakest psychic would have sensed the authority in the charge, not to mention the conflicting waves of worry and concern dripping off the elf. Jean smiled a knowing smile, but did as she was bid, silently sending a message to Initiate Ashari.
Teah received it with a jolt, and shot at warning glare over at the teenager. She hated telepathic communication with a vengeance, since she was for the most part an intensely private person. Jean shrugged off her death-glares with an easy affability, smirking as she watched the two younger teens.
"All right, my girl." Teah stood up and paced over to Kitty. The brown-haired girl and her furry companion looked up at her approach, quailing faintly under her irritated expression. They weren't to know that it wasn't directed at them. "No matter what you say about being 'fine', you clearly need medical attention. Any healer worth her salt can see that. Come with me to the Infirmary and we'll see if we haven't got some tonic that'll fix you right up." Grasping Kitty's wrist in one tiny, vice-like hand, she proceeded to drag her to the door.
Kitty marvelled absently over the strength Teah possessed given her immature body, but gave little thought to such notions as she protested against the chosen course of action. "Initiate Ashari, I can assure you I'm, like, totally fine. Just a bit light-headed is all. Really, there's nothing wrong with me. I don't have to go to the Infirmary. Really."
Another telepathic message from Jean enlightened the healer as to just exactly what had happened when Kitty zoned out earlier, and Teah clucked her tongue disapprovingly at the girl's unselfish, but ultimately foolish words. "Nothing wrong? Give me a break. Now come with me, and be quick about it. I haven't got all day to stand around yapping with foolish girls."
Teah wrenched the heavy door open and towed her charge out into the hallway and on to the Infirmary. Those still left in the anteroom could hear them even as they reached their destination, and with his hyper-sensitive hearing, Kurt swore he could still perceive them clearly when they were actually *inside* it too.
Jean smiled. "Now there's something you don't see every day. Most of us are too frightened of Initiate Ashari to even *think* about arguing with her. Her temper's legendary. Your friend's got guts."
"You have no idea," Kurt replied, and Jean felt with satisfaction at her own insight the swell of pride within his chest.
She was a little surprised when he turned to look at her, and a fresh sensation of genuine penitence and shame flowed out of him.
"I'm sorry, Jean, for what happened earlier. I know you were only trying to do what was best and protect everyone - myself included - by using your Changeling powers on me. I had no right to act the way I did, trying to hurt you. I apologise."
"Already forgotten," she replied, waving a careless hand. "You weren't exactly acting like yourself. I know you didn't mean it. And I'll bet everyone else does too." There was a chorus of assenting noises from Jubilee and Ororo.
"Be that as it may," Kurt repeated, brows knitted, "It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do for you - or Initiate Ashari, either for that matter - then just name it and I'll do it gladly." He raised a tridactyl hand and placed it on his chest above his heart. "I promise."
Strangely touched by the gesture, Jean's cheeks coloured a bit, and she chuckled self-consciously. "Um... thanks? The best way you can make it up to Initiate Ashari is to stay out of her way for a while until she's had time to cool off. And as for me, your apology is more than enough. Not many people would be big enough to admit they were wrong."
Abruptly, an idea popped unannounced into her head, and the corners of her mouth stretched further into a fully-fledged grin. "Actually, there is something you can do for me."
"Anything. Just say the word."
"You can get changed out of that ridiculous toga thing and put on some proper clothes."
The elf blinked. Then smiled. Putting one foot forward, he made an elegantly flourished bow, smacking his tail to the floor in a gesture of mock-acquiescence. "Your wish is my command, oh great and wonderful master."
Jean giggled, something that was catching, because a few seconds later Jubilee was also sniggering at Kurt's pseudo-subservient antics. He noticed this and, like a true performer, milked their humour for all that he could, pirouetting around and falling to the floor to kiss Jean's feet, all the time vociferating every flowery compliment he could think of as loud as he could.
Ororo looked on with mild amusement. For someone who had just been near suicidal, Kurt had recovered amazingly quickly. Idly she wondered whether his lineage also possessed blood from the Faes; creatures known for their quickness to anger, and equal swiftness at forgetting what had made them angry in the first place. It was good to see him smile again. Her own smile also spread across her face as she watched the three teenagers engaged in their refreshingly trivial pursuits. An uplifting respite after such gloomy conversations.
She still felt a twinge of regret over the loss of her friend and one-time-acolyte, but Ororo had resolved the moment Kurt told her of Raven's death to avenge her the only way she knew how; by helping her son, and the quest he had undertaken - or was going to undertake very soon.
This thought elicited another twinge inside her gut. Except this time it was not grief, but guilt that assailed her insides. She knew what she was really doing by helping Kurt and his companions. She was aware of her own ulterior motives, of the vengeance she hoped to wreak through them, and what fate had already decreed in the words of Ramnet Calorsiel. She knew what she was sentencing him to by aiding him. In a way, she mused, her help was tainted, since it all boiled down to one thing - the prophecy.
Not that she would have abandoned Kurt were it not for the Calorsiel Texts. He was still Raven's son, after all, and Kitty and Rogue were still his comrades. It violated every rule of The Way not to help them. Yet still, Ororo felt guilty about it. She wasn't really helping them at all. Just priming them for the next stage of their journey. Preparing them for the ultimate test they would have to face at Belvedere.
~If The Rogue survives that long.~
Wistfully, she cast a glance at the wall separating the anteroom from the Infirmary Proper. Teah had been telling the truth about The Rogue's probability of survival. And, much as she hated to admit it, Ororo tended to agree that her chances were minuscule at best. She'd yet to hear of anyone living through Shaking Sickness without the aid of a healer. Even in those rare few cases where the afflicted had survived, it had drained the healer's powers so much that they themselves were also reduced to death's door as a result. Teah was the only healer there was at The Temple, and her power levels were in no condition to spend themselves entirely on retrieving Rogue from where she resided. No, Rogue would have to combat the illness by herself. At least until Teah regained enough energy to help without killing herself, and that could take days.
Ororo sighed. It was a no-win situation. To have Teah attempt to save Rogue by herself meant risking Teah's life, and possibly Rogue's too if the Changeling was unsuccessful. Yet by doing nothing, they were essentially condemning the ex-assassin to death's mercy anyway. And without her, the prophecy could never be fulfilled. She was too integral a part of it to be missing. It would be over before it had even begun. The Silver Sword would have won and his lust for power would go on unchecked until it destroyed them all.
Ororo's hands clenched into fists She was not a violent person by nature, but she had her moments - most of them involving The Silver Sword. For what he had done to so many innocents, she loathed him - as did most other people in The Temple - and lived her life in the hope that one day she would contribute to bringing him down. That day seemed to have arrived along with Kurt and his party, but now it had been snatched away again, just as swiftly. As Rogue's life dwindled and expired, so did their hopes of defeating The Silver Sword and restoring peace to their lands once more, and that fact made Ororo's blood boil in her veins.
Glancing up at the three adolescents before her, she noticed idly the easy way they interacted with each other. It was almost as if the disheartening tête-à-tête a few minutes previously hadn't happened at all. Kurt continued to play up to his audience, and Jean accepted his actions with good grace, whilst Jubilee did so with a little less decorum; throwing back her head and laughing long and loud.
Ororo wished she had their innocence and optimism. Kurt still believed with all his heart that The Rogue - no. Just plain 'Rogue' according to him - would be able to make it through her Shaking Sickness unaided. He believed in her that much. In his eyes, there was nothing she couldn't do - and to a certain extent, Jubilee had also shown her leanings to this point of view. Even the idea that she was trapped within the confines of her own mind didn't seem to dampen the belief that she would come back to them somehow, one way or another.
~Perhaps that's where I've been going wrong,~ Ororo mused. ~I've only been looking at how to tailor things so that they're not wrong. These young ones look at them and only see what's going right. I see the negative possibilities of Rogue's situation, and they see the positive parts of her continued existence. Maybe I should take a leaf out of their book and look for the brighter side of things until fate and the gods cast their judgement.~
"Hey, Ororo?"
The dark-skinned woman jolted from her musings as the cheerful voice trickled into her ear. "Yes, Jean?"
"Where can we get some proper clothes for Kurt and Kitty? Do we have any spare things lying around, or will they have to wait until some more are made for them."
"That won't be necessary." Ororo thought of the stock of robes several pre-pubescent Underlings had outgrown and cast off recently. Kitty was a slender girl, and Kurt didn't have much weight on him either. Those garments should fit them perfectly. "I have just the thing in mind for them."
Kurt's stomach abruptly chose that moment to rumble rather loudly. The assorted gurglings filled the chamber as he hugged his midriff tightly with bare furry arms and smiled wanly. "Entschuldigung," he muttered. "I haven't eaten in a while, and I kind of have this problem that I faint when I don't eat for a long time."
"Say no more," said Ororo. "If I'm not mistaken, then it's nearly lunchtime anyway. Food will be served in The Great Hall soon, and I'll let the kitchens know to set out two extra places."
Kurt's golden eyes widened. "Um, could you please not tell them who will be filling those extra seats, Frauline? I wouldn't ask, except that I had a slight run in with some members of the kitchens today involving flour, treacle and a very annoyed man who threw a pan at my head. I don't think he'd be too pleased if he knew I was going to be there."
Ororo laughed, a tinkling, almost musical sound. "Alright then, I won't reveal your identity. But first things first. Jubilee, you take Kurt down to the storerooms and find some cast-offs that will fit him. Take Kitty too when she's ready. Jean, you come with me. We'll see you both at lunch, if not before. Farewell."
And with that, she swept out of the open doorway, Jean hurrying, somewhat less stylishly, in her wake. A multitude of dust motes flurried around as she passed, as if adding their own wave of farewell to that of the two teenagers left in the room.
On cue, Kurt turned to Jubilee, but she pre-empted him and raised a finger to his mouth to silence him. "Shhh. I know. You're sorry. I am too. About your mother, I mean. But rest assured, nobody here holds your behaviour against you. You weren't in the right frame of mind when you attacked Initiate Ashari. But a word of advice; don't try anything like that again, or she'll have your guts for garters. Teah may look young and puny, but she packs quite a wallop!" A grin split her oriental face. "Now, let's see about getting you fitted out with some clothes. We can't have you wandering about half naked now, can we?" Sparks of mischief flickered in her brown eyes. "Of course, I can think of several people who'd prefer to have you look that way. Underling Tabitha, for example - urk!"
She grunted as Kurt clamped a hand around her wrist and forcibly yanked her to the door.
"Schnell! I need some clothes fast! Before die Blonderkopf finishes with her 'errand' and comes looking for me. Schnell! Schneller!"
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Unbeknownst to the chattering group inside the anteroom, they were being watched. Closely. As they left, a small dark shape rose up outside the window from where it had been hovering just out of sight. Feathery wings as black as pitch pumped at the air, and two eyes, just as murky, yet with a malevolent red glimmer deep in their depths scrutinized their every move, word and gesture until the door was finally shut firmly behind them and it could see them no more.
Sharp ears had listened to their dialogue, noting all that had passed and come to pass between them and storing it away to relate to its master later on. These ears heard the news concerning Rogue's condition, and Kurt's subsequent outburst. They heeded Kitty's reaction to Teah's words, and eavesdropped quiescently as Raven's sorry tale was related. All in an unnaturally cold, clinical silence.
The owner of these ears remained for a few moments after they'd gone, staring into the room with far too much intelligence for its bestial form. Briefly, it tapped on the window, as if testing the glass for weaknesses. Then it calmly folded its wings and plummeted down to the ground unaided, before reopening them and, in a brilliant display of aerial dominance, skimmed the cobbled floor of the Temple courtyard in a stylish arc. Powerful muscles gripped the airstreams, manipulating them until it got enough height to carry the none-too-flimsy body up and away over the surrounding walls. At one point it almost flew vertically against the stonework, and gave quite a fright to several birds - all small crows - that were perched peacefully at the top.
A precursory glance at the watchtower above the gates informed it of a male youth in his mid-twenties or so leaning over the side. If it had had lips it would have sneered at such a puny defence. True, these Changelings had much power, but still, a single lookout was foolish. One well-placed spelled arrow and the entire place would be undefended and ripe for the picking.
Once again, lack of a proper mouth denied it the freedom of expression it desired, but it smiled cruelly with its glittering eyes alone. Once again, there was far too much acumen present in them for this to be a normal creature. No, this was something different. Something more. And something undoubtedly evil.
Silently it flew on, leaving The Temple of The Way far behind it. Countryside flashed past beneath as it soared with aberrant speed. The information it possessed was tucked neatly away inside its brain, ready to be delivered as per its orders. Unlike the erratic flight of most of its kind, the creature flew with unnerving purpose in a near-perfect straight line. So swift and sure, it was almost a living arrow, ready to strike home in more ways than one.
The Master would be very pleased with this. Very pleased indeed.
Red eyes twinkled gleefully in another silent smile.
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To Be Continued....
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WARNINGS: This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic. Everything has been transplanted into a fantasy universe of my creation. Inspirations, despite what you might initially think, aren't actually from a certain Peter-Jackson-esque film project, since I started work on this before I ever *saw* those movies. Influences rather include InterNutter's spiffy fic 'Mein Teuful' (if you haven't yet read this then go do it *now*!) and various other sources I'll explain later.
CODES:
Hello = Narration
~ Hello ~ = Thought
"Hello" = Character Speaking
*Hello* = Bold
//Hello// = Psychic communication
AUTHOR'S NOTES: And how are all we today? I'm fine, if slightly swamped with work. I tell you, I'm seriously starting to wonder about a few of my courses. For American Studies I had to write a 2000 word essay about Disney films. Now, I have nothing against Disney, and after a little research I found that quite a number of people have devoted great amounts of time to chronicling and criticising the company, but when I got halfway through one book and found myself reading a passage including the words 'if Belle and the Beast lived together in real life, she would most certainly have become a battered wife' I had to stop, look in the mirror and tell myself 'they forced you to take this subsid. You didn't ask for it.' Morons.
Slating academia aside, here's the next chappie ready for your consumption. Thanks to all who reviewed last time (I have 90 reviews! Most ever! Woo! Maturity? What's that when it's at home?) and especially to the anonymous person who emailed me with story ideas. Scarily, he predicted a whole bunch of stuff that's going to happen in the next few chapters. So, to 'devoted fan' (^____^) this one's for you. Also, since the only real New Mutants fic I came across since last time was one by Skiltch, I hereby dedicate this instalment to those two (that's a compliment, by the way, not an insult, however bad the content below is).
Oh yeah (yeesh, she's verbose today!), this chapter is officially the shortest in the entire fic. Not that you really needed to know that, but there you go. I felt like sharing.
Toodles.
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'Of Beast And Blade' By Scribbler
Chapter Eleven ~ 'As the Raven Flies'
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'There was never a great man who had not a great mother.' -- Olive Schreiner
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"Who *are* you?"
"I am who I have always been." Ororo replied at length. "Ororo the White. Mother to the Temple of The Way."
"What do you know about my mother?"
"I knew her before she became a husk of her former self."
Kurt blinked, confused. What could she mean, 'husk of her former self'? "I... I don't understand."
Ororo sighed. "I thought as much. You have much to learn, Kurt. About your origins and the world at large."
"Ororo...." Jean gritted, clenching her jaw. She wasn't used to using her telekinesis for prolonged amounts of time, and Kurt's considerable weight was proving to be a strain.
The white-haired woman nodded. "Kurt, I will tell you what you wish to know on one condition - that you control yourself and do not fly off the handle so violently again. This is a peaceful place, and I will not permit such actions within its walls, is that understood?"
Kurt's head bobbed up and down uncertainly, but he whispered softly, "But Rogue...."
"It is true what you say. Rogue is not dead," Ororo conceded. "But be that as it may, you know as well as I do that there is nothing we can do for her at present. If she survives the Shaking Sickness then it will be a welcome miracle, but not one that we can induce ourselves. No, Kurt. This is something she must combat alone. It is her fight."
Where he floated, Kurt drew his knees up to his chest. Faint whimpering escaped his lips; a stark contrast to the snarling demon of only moments ago. Now he sounded more like some bemused and forlorn child. "Alone. Why do I always leave people alone? They try to help me, and get hurt. I'm never there when they need me. I always leave them alone. Abandon them."
"Kurt." Ororo drew closer to him, gesturing to Jean. The telepath gently lowered the elf to the floor with a small sigh of relief.
Kurt crouched, head buried in his knees. It was difficult to believe that this was the same boy who'd cheerfully turned somersaults around this very room not half an hour ago.
~Such a change,~ Ororo thought. ~And I have a feeling that it's not just due to The Rogue's condition. There's more to this than we know.~ "Kurt," she repeated, hunkering down beside him. He looked up at her with eyes soulful enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
"Please," he mumbled, "I need to know. How do you know my mother?"
Ororo let a reluctant breath pass over her lips. "To tell you the truth, I wasn't even sure you were who I thought you were to begin with. I had my suspicions, but... you said things; did things that reminded me. But not enough to convince me of your heritage."
"Then, what you said... about me being the son of Mystique the Seer..."
"Was subterfuge, yes," Ororo said regretfully. "I had to make sure. I'm sorry for distressing you, but once you've heard my story then I'm sure you'll understand why I did it."
The dark-skinned woman nodded imperceptibly at her 'children', who all retired to sitting positions so as not to detract from what she was saying. Gradually, a respectful hush fell upon the small room, with only the odd choking sob from Kitty piercing the air.
Jean looked down at the younger girl, still clasped in her arms. Her gaze was somewhat unfocused, but she was still in the world of the living. Other than that, she seemed totally unaware of what was going on around her.
~Shock,~ Jean thought wryly. ~But who wouldn't be after reliving their own parents' deaths?~
Ororo sat, cross-legged beneath the folds of her robe. She rested her hands demurely in her lap, and stared solidly at some point close to the ceiling as she spoke.
"Mystique. I wasn't sure to begin with. When I knew her she didn't go by that name. To me, she will always be Raven the Dark. But I suppose circumstances dictated that she changed her identity." She sighed. "You see Kurt, many years ago - long before you were born - your mother was a member of The Way. She lived at this very temple, as an Underling, and then as an Initiate. I remember her well. A conscientious girl, always exceeding her quota of work with good grace and affability. Never was she too downhearted not to spare a smile for anyone she met, and I can honestly say that I never heard a word spoken against her as she grew up amongst us. Finally, I chose her as my acolyte. She trained for years as my apprentice, and was to become the next Temple Mother after my time was ended."
"Then why didn't she?" Kurt asked. It didn't make sense. How could Ororo be speaking of the same person he knew? Mystique was - had been, he corrected himself with a wince - genial, it was true, but kept herself to herself and only saw people when they came to her for business reasons. Never once had she sought out any company but his own, and Kurt knew for certain that she had been in possession of no friends in or around the Black Forest. So how could a young Pellae-Azuulle with such a bright future end up living a reclusive life in a tent in the middle of a forest, with only her misshapen son for companionship?
"Because a young spirit is easy to sway, and machinations of the heart are difficult to control," Ororo responded cryptically. "Raven's abilities were unique for us at the time. Back then Changelings had not yet begun to appear, and Raven was the only one of her people who chose our way of life. Consequently, we knew little of how her Seeing powers worked, and trusted that she herself would be able to control and use them as she saw fit without any intervention from us. I see now how foolish we were. She learned as she grew by way of trial and error, honing her abilities and refining them with every passing day. Yet even she was ignorant as to the integral workings of her powers." Here she paused.
Kurt raised his face and glanced across at the older woman. A stray lock of snowy hair fell across Ororo's cheek, accentuated by her tanned skin. "What happened? Why did she leave here?"
"We know now that a Pellae-Azuulle 'sees' by accessing different plains of existence and viewing possible outcomes of future events. However, this does carry some degree of risk, as when not done properly, she can accidentally gain access to a different world altogether. This was the case with your mother. Whilst trying to perfect her second sight, Raven accidentally opened a portal to another realm. And it was from this that a being came who would change her life - and ours - forever. For you see, Raven had unwittingly made contact with one of the Seven Hells, and her 'visitor' was a demon."
Ororo paused as this piece of information sank in. She knew that none of the other Underlings or Initiates in the room were aware of this tale, and listened as a short intake of breath was issued from several locations. Somehow, in an intensely mortal way, it felt good to share the secret she'd guarded for so long. Almost liberating.
Eventually she continued, but not before shooting Kurt an inquisitive look. He was huddled in on himself, face not visible, but long pointed ears pricked and obviously drinking in every word. Her gaze lingered a moment on those ears, remembering their origin. She'd met other Pella-Azul in the years since Raven's departure, both male and female, and knew how different Kurt looked compared to them, even if he himself was unaware.
She took a breath for strength. She'd come too far to stop now, and continued slowly and evenly. "His name was Amo-Cara. He was a minor demon from the First Hell, who inadvertently got sucked through Raven's portal and trapped here in Earth-Realm. Unable to reopen the gateway immediately, and worried about what we might say, Raven hid him from us until she figured out how to send him back again. But it was in those months when she fervently worked to retrace her steps that the seeds of her fate were planted and sowed.
"Raven spent much time with Amo-Cara whilst she attempted to extricate him, and gradually the two became very close. He was not very old - for a demon - and since his residence was the First Hell, the darkness within him was small. The particulars are lost to me, but eventually..." she paused, and then sighed. A deep, heartfelt noise. "Eventually... Raven and Amo-Cara fell in love."
More gasping. Ororo evaded their eyes, not wanting to see their reactions lest they be unfavourable. Raven had been precious to her - almost a daughter. Recalling events was painful, as had been the initial realisation that their relationship wasn't as trust-filled as she'd thought.
"However, it could not last. Amo-Cara had a job to return to - for that was all he viewed his work in the First Hell as, a job, and even demons must answer to higher powers. When Raven could not reopen her portal, The Evil One himself took a hand in their plight and called Amo-Cara back. All this came to pass without anyone knowing of it, and when Amo-Cara was forcibly removed from our world, The Evil One masqueraded it as a fierce storm that raged outside our gates for many hours.
"Afterwards, Raven became withdrawn, and spoke little to people. Her customary smiles became less frequent, she ate less, and her social appearances were non-existent. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, and we could only watch as she faded before our very eyes into a mere shade of the girl she'd once been.
"Finally, after months of waning, Raven vanished one night, leaving behind only a note for me to find. In this note she told of Amo-Cara and how she'd loved him so, and how he'd returned her love despite what he was. When he left, she'd pined for him to the point where she no longer wanted to live any more if she had to live without him. It was then that she discovered she was to bear his child, and, ashamed of how her consorting with a demon would reflect on the Temple, had fled.
"I never showed anyone the note. It was her desire that only I knew of what she'd done, so I burned it as per her wishes, and told people she'd run away to rejoin her family so they could help her learn how to control her abilities. That was seventeen years ago. I've never spoken of her since. Not until today."
There was silence for a moment.
"How did you know? That I was her son?" Kurt asked softly.
"I was being truthful when I said a traveller had passed through here telling tales of a Seer in the Black Forest. A Pellae-Azuulle, who went by the name of Mystique the Seer and lived alone save for a small child. I knew then that it was her. That was my nickname for her, you see. Mystique. And she called me Storm." For a moment, Ororo looked profoundly sad.
"I never knew," Kurt breathed. "All this time, and she never said a word. Never told me a thing." He turned to the Temple Mother. "She never forgot him. Amo-Cara, I mean. Never. She... she kept mementoes of him, you see... tokens, and... and..." His golden eyes went wide. "Gods, it was *you* he was talking about."
"Pardon?" Ororo said, confused.
"In the love notes Amo-Cara sent my mother. I... I found them by accident... he referred to a 'prison with the gaoler of ageless white.' I... I think he was talking about this place... and *you*."
A brown hand strayed to her snowy locks, and Ororo gave a half-smile. "Perhaps one day, when Jean has taken over from me in my duties, I will journey into the Black Forest and seek out my old friend. I would dearly like to see Raven again."
At once, a flash of regret blossomed across Kurt's face. "You can't," he said simply, voice suddenly devoid of emotion.
Ororo seemed surprised. "Then after all this time, she still isn't able to face me? Is her shame really that great?"
"No. It's not that at all."
"Then why?"
Kurt gulped, throat constricting slightly and tears threatening to leak down his cheeks. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Because.... because she's dead." There, he'd said it. Now they could know of how he was responsible for his mother's death and despise him for it just as much as he still did himself.
Ororo said nothing for a moment. And when she did speak, her tone was flat, her voice hoarse. "How?"
"Rogue came to her for a vision, and some assassins followed her there," Kurt gritted. "They were tracking her... my... my mother knew they were coming - she was a Seer, how could she not? - and what they would do when they reached us. So... so she sent me away... but... but she stayed behind... to protect me. So they wouldn't know which way I'd gone. And... and they... they murdered her." He snivelled a little. "She never told me, or else I would've stayed too, or got her away to someplace safe. She lied... she said she'd be there waiting for me when I returned from my adventures, but now... now... It's my fault. It's all my fault. She died trying to save me."
More silence. Then; "Oh Raven." Ororo didn't sound bereft, but her whisper held more sorrow then a torrent of hysterical screaming ever could. Her eyes swiftly deepened with unspoken grief, and the aura surrounding her became a little less brilliant as she silently grieved for the friend she'd lost twice in one lifetime.
It was as if the world had suddenly become a darker place. Everyone in the room felt it. Like a thick fog, a feeling of despair settled over them, and they vicariously felt the pain of those who had known the one called Raven the Dark and Mystique the Seer. The air around them seemed lifeless and dank with regret. Regret at words not said. Regret at things not done. Regret of emotions never spoken of until it was too late. Just... regret.
Finally, Kurt spoke. "Mother remembered this place. I often wondered where her robes came from. Now I know. Never took them off unless she was sleeping. She missed it... and you. All of this." He gestured with one hand around the room and the buildings beyond and sighed. "So now I know. Now I know why we lived alone in the forest. And why she always seemed so sad. It was because of me."
Blue eyes regarded him enigmatically. "How is it because of you, Kurt?"
"She was hiding me away. She must have been ashamed of me - of where I came from. Of what giving birth to me forced her to give up." He chuckled harshly. "I can't understand why she didn't just throw me in a river as soon as I was born."
Ororo's head snapped around. "Don't you *ever* say anything like that ever again! Your mother *loved* you; otherwise she wouldn't have sacrificed so much to take care of you. She loved Amo-Cara, but their happiness was never meant to be. *That* was why she was unhappy. In my opinion, your birth served to alleviate that unhappiness. You gave her a reason to live again, Kurt. A link to the one she loved but could never have. That she could ever be ashamed of you is inconceivable! If you ever thought that, it would be a betrayal of everything she did, everything she suffered to bring you into this world."
All assembled were shocked at this display of vehemence from the usually calm and composed woman. Ororo collected herself, smoothing down a few stray wisps of hair and closing her eyes. She drew a deep breath, letting it filter slowly out of her mouth as she regained control of her emotions.
Kurt just stared at her. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered at last.
"Don't be," she replied in a more even voice. "Just remember how much Raven loved you. I know you blame yourself for her passing, Kurt," She hesitated over the word 'passing'. Even for her, 'death' was too strong to use at present. It was too absolute. Too callous. "But you have to remember, she *chose* not to tell you what she knew. She cared about you so much she was willing to give up her own life for your well-being. I beg of you; don't squander it blaming yourself for something you can't change. Remember your mother for what she did for you, not what you've convinced yourself you did to her."
Kurt gazed at the sage female. He'd never thought about it that way before. And yet, when Ororo rationalized things in that husky baritone of hers, they seemed true to the point of being indisputable.
He swallowed. "Thank you."
Ororo smiled again. "And now we know why you felt so strongly about The Rogue - "
"Please, it's just Rogue."
"All right. Rogue. You blame yourself for what happened to her too, don't you?"
He averted his eyes. "She was trying to protect me. Us."
"Did the Displacer Beast attack her?"
He blinked. "Wha- Ja. Yes, it did."
"Then it stands to reason that she was also defending herself. You can't blame yourself for something like that, Kurt. You were not the one who sent the creature after Rogue, and from what I understand, you tried to help her when she was in difficulties. Am I right?"
Kurt nodded, but his gaze still held a spark of self-culpability. Ororo decided to change tack.
"What would Rogue say if she heard you pitying yourself so? Because that's exactly what your doing. Indulging in selfish pity."
Kurt thought for a moment. "She'd... she'd probably tell me I was being stupid, call me a Kaju, and tell me to get off my fuzzy butt and do something useful."
"Sage advice if ever I heard it. So what do you intend to do?"
"I.... I guess I'll get off my fuzzy butt and do something useful," he said after a moment. A vague smile split his cerulean face. "And pray."
"We'll all pray for her. At present, it's all we can do. But don't be discouraged. Prayer has worked miracles in the past."
Kurt's small smile widened slightly. "Thank you, Ororo. For everything."
She brushed off his gratitude by raising one elegant hand. "Save your thanks, Kurt. Though my old friend is lost to me, I can still help her son. And so, in a way, she is still with me. In spirit."
She got gracefully to her feet, smoothing down her magenta robes and brushing the copious amounts of dust that had gathered upon the fabric off to go swirling away through the still air. Kurt followed her lead, albeit somewhat slower, and stretched himself when he was upright. Several of the vertebrae in his spine crackled as they realigned, causing Jubilee and Jean both to wince, but he appeared not to notice, and released a relieved lungful of breath at the increased comfort he now felt - both physically and mentally.
However, a strange look crossed his face, and he offered his next question up to the open air, trusting that someone would provide the answer to it. "There's something I just don't understand, though. Why didn't meine Mutter tell me who my father was? If she loved him so much, then why did she keep his identity a secret from me for so long?"
With practised ease, Ororo opened her mouth to answer, and everyone else held their tongues since their Temple Mother had decided to reply. It was not her status that caused them to act this way, but the simple respect she inspired from them. Ororo the White was the kind of person who could command esteem without saying a word or moving a muscle, though she always contested her 'children' for treating her higher than themselves.
Yet before the first wise utterances could leave her throat, Ororo was silenced by a commotion that suddenly started up not a few feet to her left.
Jean leaned back slightly as a still-disorientated Kitty tried valiantly to sit up. The younger girl was trembling, but refused aid and looked squarely at her furry companion from where she sat across the room from him. He gazed at her curiously, and she met his gaze like for like. Eyes never wavering, despite her body's unsteadiness.
"K-Kurt," she stuttered. "You went through a lot as a child. You said so yourself. Your... your mother knew what her clients called you, didn't she? The names and insults they used."
Slowly, Kurt nodded.
"What d-did most people call you when they first s-saw you?"
He pondered this momentarily. "Nothing nice. Monster. Fiend. Demon."
A gasp; not of surprise, but effort. "And did that hurt you?"
Kurt thought back to a picture book he'd once been given by a particularly spiteful child who'd accompanied her father as he visited Mystique many years ago. He'd been about seven years old, and it had been an illustrated children's book about myths and monsters in and around Earth-Realm.
On one page had been a particularly gruesome picture of thin, dancing figure with wickedly pointed horns and a spaded tail spurting out of its blistery red backside. It had been depicted as dancing on top of a veritable mountain of human remains, with a black pitchfork in one clawed hand and the remains of a mutilated head swinging by its hair in the other. The girl had leaned over him as he looked at the horrific image, pointed to it with one podgy finger and told him; "That's you."
The incident had rattled him so much that he'd been unable to sleep for a week, and several times Mystique had been woken by his screams as he experienced nightmares, and then clung to her, sobbing and whispering; "I'm not gonna grow up to be like that, am I Mama? I'm not a monster, am I?"
Even now, he recalled the hurt in her eyes as he asked her that, and could almost feel her soft hands lovingly stroking his hair as she murmured; "No, my love. You're no monster. You're my little boy. My beautiful little boy. Hush now. There's nothing to be afraid of. Hush. Mama's here."
Kurt blinked. "Ja. They hurt me."
"So your mother probably didn't want to cause you any more pain by telling you that your father actually *was* a demon," Kitty reasoned. She breathed hard, but refused to stop talking. For once, nobody commented on her verbal diarrhoea. "Y-you already felt upset because you were different from other kids... and I'll bet she didn't want to hurt you more by, like, compounding it. If she l-loved Amo-Cara, then she didn't want to risk you hating him because of things... because of things other people had told you about demons. Perhaps she was going to... to tell you one day, when you were old enough not to be influenced b-by, like, prejudice..."
"But she never got the chance," Kurt finished grimly. Kitty nodded, and then rested her forehead in her hand, obviously made dizzy by the action.
Kurt crossed the room and knelt by her side, all other feelings forgotten as an intense anxiety for her swept through him. "Kätzchen, are you OK?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she assured him through gritted teeth. "Just a little headache. Nothing for you to, like, worry about."
Unnoticed by either of them, Jean raised one eyebrow. That was the first time she'd heard near-descent into insanity referred to as 'a little headache.'
Suddenly, a voice threw out a mental command, knowing that with her telepathic abilities, she'd be able to hear it and nobody else would. The ultimate assurance of privacy.
~Just, like, leave it, OK? He's got enough on his plate without worrying about me and my problems. Just let him alone. I want him to be happy.~
Kitty's blue eyes slid sideways for the merest fraction of a second, giving physical emphasis to what her cerebral voice had already directed. It wasn't needed, however. Even the weakest psychic would have sensed the authority in the charge, not to mention the conflicting waves of worry and concern dripping off the elf. Jean smiled a knowing smile, but did as she was bid, silently sending a message to Initiate Ashari.
Teah received it with a jolt, and shot at warning glare over at the teenager. She hated telepathic communication with a vengeance, since she was for the most part an intensely private person. Jean shrugged off her death-glares with an easy affability, smirking as she watched the two younger teens.
"All right, my girl." Teah stood up and paced over to Kitty. The brown-haired girl and her furry companion looked up at her approach, quailing faintly under her irritated expression. They weren't to know that it wasn't directed at them. "No matter what you say about being 'fine', you clearly need medical attention. Any healer worth her salt can see that. Come with me to the Infirmary and we'll see if we haven't got some tonic that'll fix you right up." Grasping Kitty's wrist in one tiny, vice-like hand, she proceeded to drag her to the door.
Kitty marvelled absently over the strength Teah possessed given her immature body, but gave little thought to such notions as she protested against the chosen course of action. "Initiate Ashari, I can assure you I'm, like, totally fine. Just a bit light-headed is all. Really, there's nothing wrong with me. I don't have to go to the Infirmary. Really."
Another telepathic message from Jean enlightened the healer as to just exactly what had happened when Kitty zoned out earlier, and Teah clucked her tongue disapprovingly at the girl's unselfish, but ultimately foolish words. "Nothing wrong? Give me a break. Now come with me, and be quick about it. I haven't got all day to stand around yapping with foolish girls."
Teah wrenched the heavy door open and towed her charge out into the hallway and on to the Infirmary. Those still left in the anteroom could hear them even as they reached their destination, and with his hyper-sensitive hearing, Kurt swore he could still perceive them clearly when they were actually *inside* it too.
Jean smiled. "Now there's something you don't see every day. Most of us are too frightened of Initiate Ashari to even *think* about arguing with her. Her temper's legendary. Your friend's got guts."
"You have no idea," Kurt replied, and Jean felt with satisfaction at her own insight the swell of pride within his chest.
She was a little surprised when he turned to look at her, and a fresh sensation of genuine penitence and shame flowed out of him.
"I'm sorry, Jean, for what happened earlier. I know you were only trying to do what was best and protect everyone - myself included - by using your Changeling powers on me. I had no right to act the way I did, trying to hurt you. I apologise."
"Already forgotten," she replied, waving a careless hand. "You weren't exactly acting like yourself. I know you didn't mean it. And I'll bet everyone else does too." There was a chorus of assenting noises from Jubilee and Ororo.
"Be that as it may," Kurt repeated, brows knitted, "It was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do for you - or Initiate Ashari, either for that matter - then just name it and I'll do it gladly." He raised a tridactyl hand and placed it on his chest above his heart. "I promise."
Strangely touched by the gesture, Jean's cheeks coloured a bit, and she chuckled self-consciously. "Um... thanks? The best way you can make it up to Initiate Ashari is to stay out of her way for a while until she's had time to cool off. And as for me, your apology is more than enough. Not many people would be big enough to admit they were wrong."
Abruptly, an idea popped unannounced into her head, and the corners of her mouth stretched further into a fully-fledged grin. "Actually, there is something you can do for me."
"Anything. Just say the word."
"You can get changed out of that ridiculous toga thing and put on some proper clothes."
The elf blinked. Then smiled. Putting one foot forward, he made an elegantly flourished bow, smacking his tail to the floor in a gesture of mock-acquiescence. "Your wish is my command, oh great and wonderful master."
Jean giggled, something that was catching, because a few seconds later Jubilee was also sniggering at Kurt's pseudo-subservient antics. He noticed this and, like a true performer, milked their humour for all that he could, pirouetting around and falling to the floor to kiss Jean's feet, all the time vociferating every flowery compliment he could think of as loud as he could.
Ororo looked on with mild amusement. For someone who had just been near suicidal, Kurt had recovered amazingly quickly. Idly she wondered whether his lineage also possessed blood from the Faes; creatures known for their quickness to anger, and equal swiftness at forgetting what had made them angry in the first place. It was good to see him smile again. Her own smile also spread across her face as she watched the three teenagers engaged in their refreshingly trivial pursuits. An uplifting respite after such gloomy conversations.
She still felt a twinge of regret over the loss of her friend and one-time-acolyte, but Ororo had resolved the moment Kurt told her of Raven's death to avenge her the only way she knew how; by helping her son, and the quest he had undertaken - or was going to undertake very soon.
This thought elicited another twinge inside her gut. Except this time it was not grief, but guilt that assailed her insides. She knew what she was really doing by helping Kurt and his companions. She was aware of her own ulterior motives, of the vengeance she hoped to wreak through them, and what fate had already decreed in the words of Ramnet Calorsiel. She knew what she was sentencing him to by aiding him. In a way, she mused, her help was tainted, since it all boiled down to one thing - the prophecy.
Not that she would have abandoned Kurt were it not for the Calorsiel Texts. He was still Raven's son, after all, and Kitty and Rogue were still his comrades. It violated every rule of The Way not to help them. Yet still, Ororo felt guilty about it. She wasn't really helping them at all. Just priming them for the next stage of their journey. Preparing them for the ultimate test they would have to face at Belvedere.
~If The Rogue survives that long.~
Wistfully, she cast a glance at the wall separating the anteroom from the Infirmary Proper. Teah had been telling the truth about The Rogue's probability of survival. And, much as she hated to admit it, Ororo tended to agree that her chances were minuscule at best. She'd yet to hear of anyone living through Shaking Sickness without the aid of a healer. Even in those rare few cases where the afflicted had survived, it had drained the healer's powers so much that they themselves were also reduced to death's door as a result. Teah was the only healer there was at The Temple, and her power levels were in no condition to spend themselves entirely on retrieving Rogue from where she resided. No, Rogue would have to combat the illness by herself. At least until Teah regained enough energy to help without killing herself, and that could take days.
Ororo sighed. It was a no-win situation. To have Teah attempt to save Rogue by herself meant risking Teah's life, and possibly Rogue's too if the Changeling was unsuccessful. Yet by doing nothing, they were essentially condemning the ex-assassin to death's mercy anyway. And without her, the prophecy could never be fulfilled. She was too integral a part of it to be missing. It would be over before it had even begun. The Silver Sword would have won and his lust for power would go on unchecked until it destroyed them all.
Ororo's hands clenched into fists She was not a violent person by nature, but she had her moments - most of them involving The Silver Sword. For what he had done to so many innocents, she loathed him - as did most other people in The Temple - and lived her life in the hope that one day she would contribute to bringing him down. That day seemed to have arrived along with Kurt and his party, but now it had been snatched away again, just as swiftly. As Rogue's life dwindled and expired, so did their hopes of defeating The Silver Sword and restoring peace to their lands once more, and that fact made Ororo's blood boil in her veins.
Glancing up at the three adolescents before her, she noticed idly the easy way they interacted with each other. It was almost as if the disheartening tête-à-tête a few minutes previously hadn't happened at all. Kurt continued to play up to his audience, and Jean accepted his actions with good grace, whilst Jubilee did so with a little less decorum; throwing back her head and laughing long and loud.
Ororo wished she had their innocence and optimism. Kurt still believed with all his heart that The Rogue - no. Just plain 'Rogue' according to him - would be able to make it through her Shaking Sickness unaided. He believed in her that much. In his eyes, there was nothing she couldn't do - and to a certain extent, Jubilee had also shown her leanings to this point of view. Even the idea that she was trapped within the confines of her own mind didn't seem to dampen the belief that she would come back to them somehow, one way or another.
~Perhaps that's where I've been going wrong,~ Ororo mused. ~I've only been looking at how to tailor things so that they're not wrong. These young ones look at them and only see what's going right. I see the negative possibilities of Rogue's situation, and they see the positive parts of her continued existence. Maybe I should take a leaf out of their book and look for the brighter side of things until fate and the gods cast their judgement.~
"Hey, Ororo?"
The dark-skinned woman jolted from her musings as the cheerful voice trickled into her ear. "Yes, Jean?"
"Where can we get some proper clothes for Kurt and Kitty? Do we have any spare things lying around, or will they have to wait until some more are made for them."
"That won't be necessary." Ororo thought of the stock of robes several pre-pubescent Underlings had outgrown and cast off recently. Kitty was a slender girl, and Kurt didn't have much weight on him either. Those garments should fit them perfectly. "I have just the thing in mind for them."
Kurt's stomach abruptly chose that moment to rumble rather loudly. The assorted gurglings filled the chamber as he hugged his midriff tightly with bare furry arms and smiled wanly. "Entschuldigung," he muttered. "I haven't eaten in a while, and I kind of have this problem that I faint when I don't eat for a long time."
"Say no more," said Ororo. "If I'm not mistaken, then it's nearly lunchtime anyway. Food will be served in The Great Hall soon, and I'll let the kitchens know to set out two extra places."
Kurt's golden eyes widened. "Um, could you please not tell them who will be filling those extra seats, Frauline? I wouldn't ask, except that I had a slight run in with some members of the kitchens today involving flour, treacle and a very annoyed man who threw a pan at my head. I don't think he'd be too pleased if he knew I was going to be there."
Ororo laughed, a tinkling, almost musical sound. "Alright then, I won't reveal your identity. But first things first. Jubilee, you take Kurt down to the storerooms and find some cast-offs that will fit him. Take Kitty too when she's ready. Jean, you come with me. We'll see you both at lunch, if not before. Farewell."
And with that, she swept out of the open doorway, Jean hurrying, somewhat less stylishly, in her wake. A multitude of dust motes flurried around as she passed, as if adding their own wave of farewell to that of the two teenagers left in the room.
On cue, Kurt turned to Jubilee, but she pre-empted him and raised a finger to his mouth to silence him. "Shhh. I know. You're sorry. I am too. About your mother, I mean. But rest assured, nobody here holds your behaviour against you. You weren't in the right frame of mind when you attacked Initiate Ashari. But a word of advice; don't try anything like that again, or she'll have your guts for garters. Teah may look young and puny, but she packs quite a wallop!" A grin split her oriental face. "Now, let's see about getting you fitted out with some clothes. We can't have you wandering about half naked now, can we?" Sparks of mischief flickered in her brown eyes. "Of course, I can think of several people who'd prefer to have you look that way. Underling Tabitha, for example - urk!"
She grunted as Kurt clamped a hand around her wrist and forcibly yanked her to the door.
"Schnell! I need some clothes fast! Before die Blonderkopf finishes with her 'errand' and comes looking for me. Schnell! Schneller!"
*******************
Unbeknownst to the chattering group inside the anteroom, they were being watched. Closely. As they left, a small dark shape rose up outside the window from where it had been hovering just out of sight. Feathery wings as black as pitch pumped at the air, and two eyes, just as murky, yet with a malevolent red glimmer deep in their depths scrutinized their every move, word and gesture until the door was finally shut firmly behind them and it could see them no more.
Sharp ears had listened to their dialogue, noting all that had passed and come to pass between them and storing it away to relate to its master later on. These ears heard the news concerning Rogue's condition, and Kurt's subsequent outburst. They heeded Kitty's reaction to Teah's words, and eavesdropped quiescently as Raven's sorry tale was related. All in an unnaturally cold, clinical silence.
The owner of these ears remained for a few moments after they'd gone, staring into the room with far too much intelligence for its bestial form. Briefly, it tapped on the window, as if testing the glass for weaknesses. Then it calmly folded its wings and plummeted down to the ground unaided, before reopening them and, in a brilliant display of aerial dominance, skimmed the cobbled floor of the Temple courtyard in a stylish arc. Powerful muscles gripped the airstreams, manipulating them until it got enough height to carry the none-too-flimsy body up and away over the surrounding walls. At one point it almost flew vertically against the stonework, and gave quite a fright to several birds - all small crows - that were perched peacefully at the top.
A precursory glance at the watchtower above the gates informed it of a male youth in his mid-twenties or so leaning over the side. If it had had lips it would have sneered at such a puny defence. True, these Changelings had much power, but still, a single lookout was foolish. One well-placed spelled arrow and the entire place would be undefended and ripe for the picking.
Once again, lack of a proper mouth denied it the freedom of expression it desired, but it smiled cruelly with its glittering eyes alone. Once again, there was far too much acumen present in them for this to be a normal creature. No, this was something different. Something more. And something undoubtedly evil.
Silently it flew on, leaving The Temple of The Way far behind it. Countryside flashed past beneath as it soared with aberrant speed. The information it possessed was tucked neatly away inside its brain, ready to be delivered as per its orders. Unlike the erratic flight of most of its kind, the creature flew with unnerving purpose in a near-perfect straight line. So swift and sure, it was almost a living arrow, ready to strike home in more ways than one.
The Master would be very pleased with this. Very pleased indeed.
Red eyes twinkled gleefully in another silent smile.
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To Be Continued....
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