Dart's POV:
I brought the sword up hard and fast, changing the angle of my strike at the last moment so that it only shaved off a sliver of the stump. Whirling about I dropped to one knee and sliced the blade across at waist height, then sprung back up into a defensive stance. I held it for a moment, and then grounded the tip of my sword in the stump, signifying the end of the exercise.
//Very nice// Ragnarok murmured //But you still haven't told me why you persist in these pointless exercises every morning//
/My sword isn't going to be any use to us if we get out there and run into a cultist who can split me down the middle in a duel/ I grabbed my shirt from where it hung off of a low tree branch and pulled it roughly over my head. Even though the sun had not yet risen fully over the horizon, my back and chest were damp with the effort of the exercise.
//Dart, you've had more occasions to use a sword than almost anyone else has on the planet. I don't think you're going to run into any troubles soon//
/Skill comes with practice, not age/ I pulled my blade from the stump and returned it to its sheath. /If the reverse were true, you probably would have been crowned king of Endiness several thousand years ago/
//There's a thought//
/Don't get any ideas, please/ I began to make my way through the forest back towards the ramp that led into the upper levels of Ulara. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to filter down through the canopy, spots of gold illuminating hummocks of moss and mottling the dark trunks of the oak trees looming overhead. Charle had been letting the temperatures border on hot lately; as a result the scent of warm loam was sifting through the moss covered ground to hang faintly in the air. It wasn't hot out yet, but even in the cool shade of the forest the slowly heating air hinted at the heat that would follow. I walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet. Goddess knew things were going to get louder later on.
It had been 108 years. Soa, but I was sick of that number. Normally all that this would mean was that I would have to start watching my dreams and sharpening my sword while the other residents of Ulara went about their everyday lives in peace. But now, with the year hardly started, the entire town was on edge. And in a roundabout way, all because of that idiot Mathis who had come to stay in Ulara only a few days after Garren, Nova, and I had returned from Deningrad. I didn't like Mathis very much. He was polite enough in a conversation, but for some reason I always had the feeling that the moment my back was turned on him again he watching me, weighing and measuring me as an opponent. I'm not sure what he thought of me in that respect but whatever it was, it was enough to make him remain polite to my face. On the other hand, he and Garren would be at each other's throats if we left them alone together for more than five minutes in one room.
//We can't trust him// Ark growled. //He tries to meddle too much for his own good//
/He's an ambassador. He's supposed to meddle/ I reminded him, but I agreed. Ever since he had discovered that the real reason that Tygris was in Ulara was to guard the cygnet, he had spent a fair amount of his time trying to convince Charle that a dragon wasn't enough to protect the cygnet. Charle only listened with half an ear, I was sure, but Mathis wasn't giving up. We had managed to keep the reason for my presence here a secret, but just bearly. The fact that you're not only harboring that Black Monster in your city, but also are the reason that he still exists isn't really the sort of thing that you want to throw around casually. With any luck, he had it in his head that I was another ambassador or something.
//Why couldn't he have waited another year or two to get her with child?// Ark exploded as we reached the ramp that wound into the upper levels of the city. //He's got the whole city on edge because of this!//
/It's a little late to do anything about it now, Ark/
Ark snorted. //At least if it turns out that she does give birth to the Moon Child, we won't have to run around searching for it//
/That's rather contemptible, isn't it?/
//I don't really care. Anyone who looks at me with contempt is a dead man anyhow// Ragnarok reminded me dryly.
/You know what I mean/ Reaching the top of the ramp, I glanced around. Not surprisingly, the walkways were empty. Most everyone was probably holed up in their quarters, waiting to see what the day would bring. I would be too, if I weren't so tightly wound that I half expected a spring to pop somewhere. Choosing a path, I headed toward the courtyards in the back of the living quarters. Garren would probably be there already, since Nova was in helping in the wards.
Sure enough, when I arrived on the platform Garren was lying half-asleep on a bench next to a fountain. Tygris was also there, coiled around the marble base of another fountain, the tip of his tail trailing in the clear water. The dragon half lifted his head as I approached, then let it drop back onto the stones. "Dart. I was wondering where you were."
"Just around. I needed a bit of exercise." Seating myself on the edge of the bench, I cuffed Garren in the side of the head. "Wake up, sloth. Is Nova still gone?"
"Since about four in the morning," Garren yawned. "Jeez, I'm tired."
"You were born tired. Move over." I shoved him farther down the bench so that I could sit more comfortably. "What do you think about the whole thing?"
"Wha? Oh. Other than the fact that Mathis is an asshole, the Moon hasn't changed colour yet. I'd say that's a fair indicator of how we stand at the moment." Garren leaned back, scratching his head with one hand. "If it suddenly starts changing colors then I'd worry, but until then just relax. Did I mention Mathis is an asshole? A really, really big, swollen asshole?"
I winced. "You don't have to be so graphic. What'd he do now?"
Garren spat bitterly in the fountain. "He got me banned from the tavern for the rest of the month for 'disorderly conduct'. I don't believe it! He was the one that started the fight in the first place." He scowled at his reflection. "And he got off without a hitch. That idiot Madrid is playing favorites, if you ask me." Madrid was the hefty wingly who owned the tavern. "He just picked me up and tossed me out like I was a rag doll! And Mathis just sat and laughed his ass off. Or tried, anyway. His nose was bleeding pretty bad." He rubbed his chin reflectively. "I hope I broke it."
"You humans are strange," Tygris said without bothering to open his eyes. "When you start a fight with someone, you aren't supposed to let anyone interfere. If a dragon tried to do that, then the two dragons fighting would team up to kill him before resuming the fight."
"That happens sometimes," I admitted, "But it also isn't considered good form to destroy the common room of the town's only tavern in a brawl."
"It could be rebuilt." Garren shrugged. "He'd better watch out, though. One more remark about my scars and-" he slammed one fist into the other. "I'll see how tough he is on his own with no one to save him once he starts losing." Glowering, he turned and lay down again on his half of the bench. "Scars? I'll give him scars," he muttered.
I studied the flagstones. Garren's burns had healed after Deningrad, but the healers themselves had been unable to do anything about the mass of scars that now covered his back and chest. Hidden for the most part by his shirt they weren't very noticeable, but he was still touchy whenever anyone mentioned them. If Mathis had been bothering him about them, then I wasn't really surprised that he had reacted that way. Then again, I wasn't all that surprised that Madrid had thrown him out either.
Getting back to my feet, I raked my hair back out of my eyes and started back to my quarters. "Well, see you later on." /May as well go catch up on my sleep while I can/
//If that's what you want//
I spent most of the rest of the day in my bed in a fitful doze, mostly unaware of whatever was going on outside. The entire city seemed to be silent, as though smothered underneath a thick blanket. The heat outside had begun to seep into the apartments, filling the rooms with a stifling heat that was something reminiscent of the vast waste outside Ulara. I rolled over, kicking off my blankets. Charle must have been really distracted to let the heat get out of control like this. Stifling a yawn, I closed my eyes. The heat was slightly comforting though.
I awoke suddenly, sitting bolt upright with my ears ringing faintly. Wiping sweat from my brow, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and rested my feet on the floor. Grabbing my bandanna from where it lay with my jacket on the floor, I gave my forehead one last swipe before tying it on. /What's going on?/ I demanded silently.
//Just thought you'd like to see this. Go on, take a look//
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I got to my feet and stepped over to the window.
The sky outside was clear, without a cloud to obscure my vision. The sun was almost ready to set, the sky around it tinted a faint shade of orange. The Moon That Never Sets hung suspended at the peak of the sky's dome, still the same white-grey color as always. Relieved, I let out an explosive breath and turned away. "Ark, don't scare me like-"
//Watch!// He told me sharply. Reluctantly, I turned back to the window.
For a minute, perhaps, nothing happened. Then slowly the bottom of the Moon began to shift and change, as though a barely opaque rosy fog was drifting across the surface. As the fog spread upward the rosy hue deepened, until it was the deep crimson of fresh blood. Within moments most of the moon was covered in it, swirling slowly as though stirred by invisible eddies.
I only watched it for a moment, then turned away again. Ignoring the churning of my stomach, I grabbed my sword belt from where it lay on a chair and began to fasten it up.
Asalla's POV:
Tired, I leaned back into the pillows piled up behind my head, trying to relax. At least as much as it is possible for one to recover after going through childbirth. Beside me Mathis sat on a rickety stool, holding one of my hands in his. He was whispering something quietly to me in soothing tones, but at the moment my ears were ringing so badly that I could hardly hear him. In any case, my attention was riveted on the tiny bundle resting in Lady Charle's arms. The ancient wingly was smiling broadly as she carefully held out the baby to me. My baby. It took a moment for me to grasp the thought. My baby. Feeling Mathis let go of my hand, I reached out my arms.
The little face peeking out at me from between the folds in the blanket was small and plump and still quite red from crying, with a few thin wisps of silver hair laying flat on the soft scalp. And her eyes- she had my eyes!
Beside me, Mathis was watching the two of us, his face alight with a kind of wonder. Reaching out tentatively with one hand, he brushed the baby's face with his fingertips, then pulled back his hand and kissed me lightly on the forehead. "She's beautiful, Asalla. Just like her mother. But what's her name?"
I laughed weakly. "Mathis, you flatter me too much." Beautiful? I knew for a fact that at the moment my face and hair were probably streaked with sweat, and most likely almost as red as the little girl in my arms. But he was right; she needed a name. "Ayrel. Her name will be Ayrel."
Laughing, Mathis kissed me again. "Wonderful, just wonderful."
There was a knock at the door, and Charle left my bedside to answer it. Nuzzling my face into Ayrel's blankets one last time, I looked up to see who it was.
Charle stood just outside the doorframe, head bowed in urgent conversation with someone I couldn't see. Whoever she was talking to, she was the one doing most of the listening. Once or twice she opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, but both times the protests seemed to die on her lips and she snapped her mouth shut again almost as soon as she opened it. At last her shoulders sagged in defeat, and she walked slowly back into the room with a grieved expression on her face that I had never seen there before. Dart came next, following closely behind her. As always, I could see the ethereal form of the Divine Dragon coiled loosely around the man's body, in control. Immediately Dart stepped into the room, Ragnarok's head swung around, fixing all eight of his eyes on the baby in my arms. The waves of hatred from Ragnarok hit me like a punch, so strong that my mind reeled. How could anyone feel such hatred for a mere child? Unless-
Realization dawned. "No," I whispered, pulling Ayrel close to my breasts. "No!"
Charle bowed her head in apology, but Ragnarok was implacable. "The child, Asalla. Best to give her up now before you grow too attached to the thing."
"No! You can't have her!" With a dry sob, I buried my face into the blankets wrapped around Ayrel.
"What's going on?" Mathis demanded, starting to his feet. "What do you want with her?!"
Ragnarok's glare flickered from my baby to Mathis. "Tell me, Mathis Sear, have you thought to look out a window lately?"
"What the hell does a window have to do with this?" He demanded, but stalked over to the nearest window, throwing suspicious glances back over his shoulder at Ragnarok the whole time. Reaching the window, he glanced out. "I still don't see what you-" he trailed off, staring ay what I could only assume was the Moon. He stared for perhaps a minute, his lips moving slowly as though speaking to himself as he weighed the possibilities. At last he turned away from the window. "Let me get this straight. You think that our baby is the Moon Child." He looked to Charle, who nodded her head slowly in confirmation. "The Moon Child! And you want to kill her?" Again that slow, painful nod. "You're insane! Don't you know what she can do for the world?"
"I know exactly what she'll do to the world," Ragnarok said coldly, "and it won't be your Utopia."
Mathis snorted as though he had just been told that the sun would rise in the north tomorrow. "You go right on telling yourself that. Just leave my girl out of this." I wasn't sure who he really meant, me, or the baby.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." Ragnarok's head turned, and his ethereal form shivered. "Asalla. You know what will happen if I fail. Now give me the baby." He took a half step closer to the bed, but suddenly Mathis was in front of him.
"If you take one more step closer to them, I swear I'll kill you Dart Feld."
Ragnarok gave him an odd smile that bore more resemblance to a grimace. "'You'll kill me?'" He laughed, and I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck. "Don't make idle threats, Mathis." He was nearly a head taller than the other man, and glowering as he was seemed to loom threateningly over him. "The Child, now!"
"You're a monster!" Mathis said unsteadily, stumbling a few steps backwards. "A monster, you hear me?!"
"I've been called that from time to time before," Ragnarok admitted.
Mathis stood dumbstruck for a moment as the full weight of the dragon's words crashed down on him, then with a strangled yell he lunged forward, a ball of fire appearing in either hand. He never had the chance to use them. Almost contemptuously Ragnarok smashed an elbow down on top of the wingly's head, then followed up with a hard punch to the jaw. Both fire balls flickered out as Mathis dropped to the floor unconscious.
"Asalla. Don't be an idiot; you know what that baby will grow up to be. If you don't give her to me, I'm going to have to take her from you." Stepping over Mathis's crumpled form, he was at my bedside. "Now."
Handing over Ayrel was perhaps the most difficult thing I'd ever done. Ragnarok muttered something about 'the desert' to Charle, then left with my baby. Charle, the midwife, and another wingly who I realized with a start was Nova stood there for a moment watching me before following. And then I was alone, save for my lover's crumpled form on the floor of the ward.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and rested my chin on my kneecaps. My cheeks were damp, but no new tears streamed to join them. My grief had gone beyond simple tears. Outwardly I was quiet, but on the inside my soul keened and wailed as though being torn apart by a demon. A tiny corner of my mind whispered to me that it was for the best, but I beat it down mercilessly. That it was necessary was a small comfort, and in any case, I didn't want to be comforted. Staring without seeing at the far wall, I wondered what I could possibly do next. I had no one, save Mathis. Maybe Garren and Nova, but Dart- I didn't think I would ever be able to forgive him for what he and his dragon were about to do to my baby.
That thought woke me as though someone had doused me with ice water. What was I doing?! My baby was about to die, and I was sitting on my bed in this stupid birthing outfit staring at a wall? I swung out the bed and might have fallen if I hadn't caught the edge of the bedside table in time. Gathering what little energy I had left, I closed my eyes and focused on my child. My child. Goddess, Moon Child or not, Ayrel was still my baby.
Magic swirled around me, filling my mind and body with its pulse. A moment later I reappeared on a sand dune in what I assumed must be the Death Frontier. A flicker of movement in the hollow of the dune below me caught my eye. Dart. Or Ragnarok. I didn't bother making the distinction anymore; all that mattered was that he was pulling his sword from its sheath with what seemed an agonizing slowness. A tiny, pink wrapped bundle lay in the sand at his feet, a flap of the blanket flapping in the wind. I could just make out Ayrel's face, scrunched up and red as she wailed. The sound of her cry tore at my heart like a knife. It was all my fault.
Half running, half falling down the side of the dune, I shoved past Dart and threw myself down over my child, trying to shield her with my body. Dart glared at me, but didn't pause in lifting the blade to his shoulder. Like the headsmen I had seen in books, preparing for an execution.
It was that vision I had had so long ago all over again. The sun was hardly more than a sliver on the horizon, and the sky colored the bright crimson of blood in its passing. The wind had picked up again, sending sprays of sand into my hair and face, finding its way into my dress. Dart stood poised, ready to strike, black coat whipping in the wind. Death. The dragon flickered in the air around him with his tail lashing across the ground, coiling about my body. Gathering my energy I prepared to teleport, but whatever magic I had slipped between my wingers like water. Oh goddess, I was going to die and so was my child. Burying my face into the bundle of blankets, I waited for the blow.
But it never came.
Dart staggered backwards, beating at the flames that had suddenly burst up on his jacket. The sword slid from his grasp, falling to the sand without a sound. I hardly had time to wonder at this, when someone's arms slid around my middle. Mathis's arms. A moment later magic began to hum in my ears and the world dissolved into green.
~-~
The last of the sun's rays faded from the sky, the colors receding and slowly fading to the dark blue of night. The wind that had blown so strongly only minutes before died away until it was little more than a light breeze. Without the sun the heat quickly drained away to be replaced by a sharp chill. At the peak of the sky's dome the first few stars were beginning to show themselves, pinpricks of silver against dark blue velvet. Somewhere in the distance a rock owl came out of its nest, breaking the silence of the night with its soft cry.
Dart slowly heaved himself to his feet, one hand testing the burnt patch of skin on his chest. For a moment he stared at the patch of sand where the child had been, then picked up his sword from where it lay on the sand. Sheathing it again slowly, he took one last look at the kicked up mound of sand before turning his back and starting back towards the broken tower of rock, for some reason feeling very tired.
| End Part One |
I brought the sword up hard and fast, changing the angle of my strike at the last moment so that it only shaved off a sliver of the stump. Whirling about I dropped to one knee and sliced the blade across at waist height, then sprung back up into a defensive stance. I held it for a moment, and then grounded the tip of my sword in the stump, signifying the end of the exercise.
//Very nice// Ragnarok murmured //But you still haven't told me why you persist in these pointless exercises every morning//
/My sword isn't going to be any use to us if we get out there and run into a cultist who can split me down the middle in a duel/ I grabbed my shirt from where it hung off of a low tree branch and pulled it roughly over my head. Even though the sun had not yet risen fully over the horizon, my back and chest were damp with the effort of the exercise.
//Dart, you've had more occasions to use a sword than almost anyone else has on the planet. I don't think you're going to run into any troubles soon//
/Skill comes with practice, not age/ I pulled my blade from the stump and returned it to its sheath. /If the reverse were true, you probably would have been crowned king of Endiness several thousand years ago/
//There's a thought//
/Don't get any ideas, please/ I began to make my way through the forest back towards the ramp that led into the upper levels of Ulara. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to filter down through the canopy, spots of gold illuminating hummocks of moss and mottling the dark trunks of the oak trees looming overhead. Charle had been letting the temperatures border on hot lately; as a result the scent of warm loam was sifting through the moss covered ground to hang faintly in the air. It wasn't hot out yet, but even in the cool shade of the forest the slowly heating air hinted at the heat that would follow. I walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet. Goddess knew things were going to get louder later on.
It had been 108 years. Soa, but I was sick of that number. Normally all that this would mean was that I would have to start watching my dreams and sharpening my sword while the other residents of Ulara went about their everyday lives in peace. But now, with the year hardly started, the entire town was on edge. And in a roundabout way, all because of that idiot Mathis who had come to stay in Ulara only a few days after Garren, Nova, and I had returned from Deningrad. I didn't like Mathis very much. He was polite enough in a conversation, but for some reason I always had the feeling that the moment my back was turned on him again he watching me, weighing and measuring me as an opponent. I'm not sure what he thought of me in that respect but whatever it was, it was enough to make him remain polite to my face. On the other hand, he and Garren would be at each other's throats if we left them alone together for more than five minutes in one room.
//We can't trust him// Ark growled. //He tries to meddle too much for his own good//
/He's an ambassador. He's supposed to meddle/ I reminded him, but I agreed. Ever since he had discovered that the real reason that Tygris was in Ulara was to guard the cygnet, he had spent a fair amount of his time trying to convince Charle that a dragon wasn't enough to protect the cygnet. Charle only listened with half an ear, I was sure, but Mathis wasn't giving up. We had managed to keep the reason for my presence here a secret, but just bearly. The fact that you're not only harboring that Black Monster in your city, but also are the reason that he still exists isn't really the sort of thing that you want to throw around casually. With any luck, he had it in his head that I was another ambassador or something.
//Why couldn't he have waited another year or two to get her with child?// Ark exploded as we reached the ramp that wound into the upper levels of the city. //He's got the whole city on edge because of this!//
/It's a little late to do anything about it now, Ark/
Ark snorted. //At least if it turns out that she does give birth to the Moon Child, we won't have to run around searching for it//
/That's rather contemptible, isn't it?/
//I don't really care. Anyone who looks at me with contempt is a dead man anyhow// Ragnarok reminded me dryly.
/You know what I mean/ Reaching the top of the ramp, I glanced around. Not surprisingly, the walkways were empty. Most everyone was probably holed up in their quarters, waiting to see what the day would bring. I would be too, if I weren't so tightly wound that I half expected a spring to pop somewhere. Choosing a path, I headed toward the courtyards in the back of the living quarters. Garren would probably be there already, since Nova was in helping in the wards.
Sure enough, when I arrived on the platform Garren was lying half-asleep on a bench next to a fountain. Tygris was also there, coiled around the marble base of another fountain, the tip of his tail trailing in the clear water. The dragon half lifted his head as I approached, then let it drop back onto the stones. "Dart. I was wondering where you were."
"Just around. I needed a bit of exercise." Seating myself on the edge of the bench, I cuffed Garren in the side of the head. "Wake up, sloth. Is Nova still gone?"
"Since about four in the morning," Garren yawned. "Jeez, I'm tired."
"You were born tired. Move over." I shoved him farther down the bench so that I could sit more comfortably. "What do you think about the whole thing?"
"Wha? Oh. Other than the fact that Mathis is an asshole, the Moon hasn't changed colour yet. I'd say that's a fair indicator of how we stand at the moment." Garren leaned back, scratching his head with one hand. "If it suddenly starts changing colors then I'd worry, but until then just relax. Did I mention Mathis is an asshole? A really, really big, swollen asshole?"
I winced. "You don't have to be so graphic. What'd he do now?"
Garren spat bitterly in the fountain. "He got me banned from the tavern for the rest of the month for 'disorderly conduct'. I don't believe it! He was the one that started the fight in the first place." He scowled at his reflection. "And he got off without a hitch. That idiot Madrid is playing favorites, if you ask me." Madrid was the hefty wingly who owned the tavern. "He just picked me up and tossed me out like I was a rag doll! And Mathis just sat and laughed his ass off. Or tried, anyway. His nose was bleeding pretty bad." He rubbed his chin reflectively. "I hope I broke it."
"You humans are strange," Tygris said without bothering to open his eyes. "When you start a fight with someone, you aren't supposed to let anyone interfere. If a dragon tried to do that, then the two dragons fighting would team up to kill him before resuming the fight."
"That happens sometimes," I admitted, "But it also isn't considered good form to destroy the common room of the town's only tavern in a brawl."
"It could be rebuilt." Garren shrugged. "He'd better watch out, though. One more remark about my scars and-" he slammed one fist into the other. "I'll see how tough he is on his own with no one to save him once he starts losing." Glowering, he turned and lay down again on his half of the bench. "Scars? I'll give him scars," he muttered.
I studied the flagstones. Garren's burns had healed after Deningrad, but the healers themselves had been unable to do anything about the mass of scars that now covered his back and chest. Hidden for the most part by his shirt they weren't very noticeable, but he was still touchy whenever anyone mentioned them. If Mathis had been bothering him about them, then I wasn't really surprised that he had reacted that way. Then again, I wasn't all that surprised that Madrid had thrown him out either.
Getting back to my feet, I raked my hair back out of my eyes and started back to my quarters. "Well, see you later on." /May as well go catch up on my sleep while I can/
//If that's what you want//
I spent most of the rest of the day in my bed in a fitful doze, mostly unaware of whatever was going on outside. The entire city seemed to be silent, as though smothered underneath a thick blanket. The heat outside had begun to seep into the apartments, filling the rooms with a stifling heat that was something reminiscent of the vast waste outside Ulara. I rolled over, kicking off my blankets. Charle must have been really distracted to let the heat get out of control like this. Stifling a yawn, I closed my eyes. The heat was slightly comforting though.
I awoke suddenly, sitting bolt upright with my ears ringing faintly. Wiping sweat from my brow, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and rested my feet on the floor. Grabbing my bandanna from where it lay with my jacket on the floor, I gave my forehead one last swipe before tying it on. /What's going on?/ I demanded silently.
//Just thought you'd like to see this. Go on, take a look//
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I got to my feet and stepped over to the window.
The sky outside was clear, without a cloud to obscure my vision. The sun was almost ready to set, the sky around it tinted a faint shade of orange. The Moon That Never Sets hung suspended at the peak of the sky's dome, still the same white-grey color as always. Relieved, I let out an explosive breath and turned away. "Ark, don't scare me like-"
//Watch!// He told me sharply. Reluctantly, I turned back to the window.
For a minute, perhaps, nothing happened. Then slowly the bottom of the Moon began to shift and change, as though a barely opaque rosy fog was drifting across the surface. As the fog spread upward the rosy hue deepened, until it was the deep crimson of fresh blood. Within moments most of the moon was covered in it, swirling slowly as though stirred by invisible eddies.
I only watched it for a moment, then turned away again. Ignoring the churning of my stomach, I grabbed my sword belt from where it lay on a chair and began to fasten it up.
Asalla's POV:
Tired, I leaned back into the pillows piled up behind my head, trying to relax. At least as much as it is possible for one to recover after going through childbirth. Beside me Mathis sat on a rickety stool, holding one of my hands in his. He was whispering something quietly to me in soothing tones, but at the moment my ears were ringing so badly that I could hardly hear him. In any case, my attention was riveted on the tiny bundle resting in Lady Charle's arms. The ancient wingly was smiling broadly as she carefully held out the baby to me. My baby. It took a moment for me to grasp the thought. My baby. Feeling Mathis let go of my hand, I reached out my arms.
The little face peeking out at me from between the folds in the blanket was small and plump and still quite red from crying, with a few thin wisps of silver hair laying flat on the soft scalp. And her eyes- she had my eyes!
Beside me, Mathis was watching the two of us, his face alight with a kind of wonder. Reaching out tentatively with one hand, he brushed the baby's face with his fingertips, then pulled back his hand and kissed me lightly on the forehead. "She's beautiful, Asalla. Just like her mother. But what's her name?"
I laughed weakly. "Mathis, you flatter me too much." Beautiful? I knew for a fact that at the moment my face and hair were probably streaked with sweat, and most likely almost as red as the little girl in my arms. But he was right; she needed a name. "Ayrel. Her name will be Ayrel."
Laughing, Mathis kissed me again. "Wonderful, just wonderful."
There was a knock at the door, and Charle left my bedside to answer it. Nuzzling my face into Ayrel's blankets one last time, I looked up to see who it was.
Charle stood just outside the doorframe, head bowed in urgent conversation with someone I couldn't see. Whoever she was talking to, she was the one doing most of the listening. Once or twice she opened her mouth as though she was about to say something, but both times the protests seemed to die on her lips and she snapped her mouth shut again almost as soon as she opened it. At last her shoulders sagged in defeat, and she walked slowly back into the room with a grieved expression on her face that I had never seen there before. Dart came next, following closely behind her. As always, I could see the ethereal form of the Divine Dragon coiled loosely around the man's body, in control. Immediately Dart stepped into the room, Ragnarok's head swung around, fixing all eight of his eyes on the baby in my arms. The waves of hatred from Ragnarok hit me like a punch, so strong that my mind reeled. How could anyone feel such hatred for a mere child? Unless-
Realization dawned. "No," I whispered, pulling Ayrel close to my breasts. "No!"
Charle bowed her head in apology, but Ragnarok was implacable. "The child, Asalla. Best to give her up now before you grow too attached to the thing."
"No! You can't have her!" With a dry sob, I buried my face into the blankets wrapped around Ayrel.
"What's going on?" Mathis demanded, starting to his feet. "What do you want with her?!"
Ragnarok's glare flickered from my baby to Mathis. "Tell me, Mathis Sear, have you thought to look out a window lately?"
"What the hell does a window have to do with this?" He demanded, but stalked over to the nearest window, throwing suspicious glances back over his shoulder at Ragnarok the whole time. Reaching the window, he glanced out. "I still don't see what you-" he trailed off, staring ay what I could only assume was the Moon. He stared for perhaps a minute, his lips moving slowly as though speaking to himself as he weighed the possibilities. At last he turned away from the window. "Let me get this straight. You think that our baby is the Moon Child." He looked to Charle, who nodded her head slowly in confirmation. "The Moon Child! And you want to kill her?" Again that slow, painful nod. "You're insane! Don't you know what she can do for the world?"
"I know exactly what she'll do to the world," Ragnarok said coldly, "and it won't be your Utopia."
Mathis snorted as though he had just been told that the sun would rise in the north tomorrow. "You go right on telling yourself that. Just leave my girl out of this." I wasn't sure who he really meant, me, or the baby.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." Ragnarok's head turned, and his ethereal form shivered. "Asalla. You know what will happen if I fail. Now give me the baby." He took a half step closer to the bed, but suddenly Mathis was in front of him.
"If you take one more step closer to them, I swear I'll kill you Dart Feld."
Ragnarok gave him an odd smile that bore more resemblance to a grimace. "'You'll kill me?'" He laughed, and I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck. "Don't make idle threats, Mathis." He was nearly a head taller than the other man, and glowering as he was seemed to loom threateningly over him. "The Child, now!"
"You're a monster!" Mathis said unsteadily, stumbling a few steps backwards. "A monster, you hear me?!"
"I've been called that from time to time before," Ragnarok admitted.
Mathis stood dumbstruck for a moment as the full weight of the dragon's words crashed down on him, then with a strangled yell he lunged forward, a ball of fire appearing in either hand. He never had the chance to use them. Almost contemptuously Ragnarok smashed an elbow down on top of the wingly's head, then followed up with a hard punch to the jaw. Both fire balls flickered out as Mathis dropped to the floor unconscious.
"Asalla. Don't be an idiot; you know what that baby will grow up to be. If you don't give her to me, I'm going to have to take her from you." Stepping over Mathis's crumpled form, he was at my bedside. "Now."
Handing over Ayrel was perhaps the most difficult thing I'd ever done. Ragnarok muttered something about 'the desert' to Charle, then left with my baby. Charle, the midwife, and another wingly who I realized with a start was Nova stood there for a moment watching me before following. And then I was alone, save for my lover's crumpled form on the floor of the ward.
Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and rested my chin on my kneecaps. My cheeks were damp, but no new tears streamed to join them. My grief had gone beyond simple tears. Outwardly I was quiet, but on the inside my soul keened and wailed as though being torn apart by a demon. A tiny corner of my mind whispered to me that it was for the best, but I beat it down mercilessly. That it was necessary was a small comfort, and in any case, I didn't want to be comforted. Staring without seeing at the far wall, I wondered what I could possibly do next. I had no one, save Mathis. Maybe Garren and Nova, but Dart- I didn't think I would ever be able to forgive him for what he and his dragon were about to do to my baby.
That thought woke me as though someone had doused me with ice water. What was I doing?! My baby was about to die, and I was sitting on my bed in this stupid birthing outfit staring at a wall? I swung out the bed and might have fallen if I hadn't caught the edge of the bedside table in time. Gathering what little energy I had left, I closed my eyes and focused on my child. My child. Goddess, Moon Child or not, Ayrel was still my baby.
Magic swirled around me, filling my mind and body with its pulse. A moment later I reappeared on a sand dune in what I assumed must be the Death Frontier. A flicker of movement in the hollow of the dune below me caught my eye. Dart. Or Ragnarok. I didn't bother making the distinction anymore; all that mattered was that he was pulling his sword from its sheath with what seemed an agonizing slowness. A tiny, pink wrapped bundle lay in the sand at his feet, a flap of the blanket flapping in the wind. I could just make out Ayrel's face, scrunched up and red as she wailed. The sound of her cry tore at my heart like a knife. It was all my fault.
Half running, half falling down the side of the dune, I shoved past Dart and threw myself down over my child, trying to shield her with my body. Dart glared at me, but didn't pause in lifting the blade to his shoulder. Like the headsmen I had seen in books, preparing for an execution.
It was that vision I had had so long ago all over again. The sun was hardly more than a sliver on the horizon, and the sky colored the bright crimson of blood in its passing. The wind had picked up again, sending sprays of sand into my hair and face, finding its way into my dress. Dart stood poised, ready to strike, black coat whipping in the wind. Death. The dragon flickered in the air around him with his tail lashing across the ground, coiling about my body. Gathering my energy I prepared to teleport, but whatever magic I had slipped between my wingers like water. Oh goddess, I was going to die and so was my child. Burying my face into the bundle of blankets, I waited for the blow.
But it never came.
Dart staggered backwards, beating at the flames that had suddenly burst up on his jacket. The sword slid from his grasp, falling to the sand without a sound. I hardly had time to wonder at this, when someone's arms slid around my middle. Mathis's arms. A moment later magic began to hum in my ears and the world dissolved into green.
~-~
The last of the sun's rays faded from the sky, the colors receding and slowly fading to the dark blue of night. The wind that had blown so strongly only minutes before died away until it was little more than a light breeze. Without the sun the heat quickly drained away to be replaced by a sharp chill. At the peak of the sky's dome the first few stars were beginning to show themselves, pinpricks of silver against dark blue velvet. Somewhere in the distance a rock owl came out of its nest, breaking the silence of the night with its soft cry.
Dart slowly heaved himself to his feet, one hand testing the burnt patch of skin on his chest. For a moment he stared at the patch of sand where the child had been, then picked up his sword from where it lay on the sand. Sheathing it again slowly, he took one last look at the kicked up mound of sand before turning his back and starting back towards the broken tower of rock, for some reason feeling very tired.
| End Part One |