The Flight of the Mil'vardea
One breath. Two.
It took far more effort then it should have.
Blink.
Her eyes cleared after a moment. The stars blinked sleepily from their blanket of cloudless midnight. The grass was freezing under her hands, burning the naked skin of her fingers with cold. The Mil'vardea glanced around; the night was just as it had been. Even the ben'narri cawed sleepily to the night, swaying in time with their breathing.
The world is calm. There was no cataclysm, no earthquake. So just what happened? The Dragon closed her eyes, resting her throbbing head against her knees. I was laying in the grass, just laying here, and then suddenly…
Something tearing, ripping through the delicate balance of space and time, crashing the four of us together. It felt as though I was suddenly four people, and I knew them, I knew their names and their lives.
Mil'vardea Vrandel Bryth Kaellin. Those are all my names, but why so many? Who were those people?
Reality settled in slowly, the calm braying of the ben'narri settling Mil'vardea's war-nerves down to something bearable. She sat, waited for the dream to sort itself out behind her eyes. The world was at peace and her soul absorbed that peace, drinking in the calm like starved roots. Perhaps it was just a dream. Even as her head said it, she could feel the rest of her body revolting against the thought. So if it wasn't a dream, just what was it?
Mil'vardea shifted, then lay down again, resting her head on her arms. The stars had shifted slightly, and the Dragon's Star rose from the south. My star, the star of the Mil'vardea, something I don't feel I've earned just yet. Which brings me back to my original thoughts: just what am I supposed to be…
She shot up, her eyes wide with a sudden understanding. The dream… the dream came after I was praying… Perhaps, those people have something to with why I'm here. I need to find them. The urge to pack up and leave burned through her conscious, beating like a heartbeat against the back of her eyes.
The remainder of her shift watching the ben'narri crawled by as Mil'vardea planned her leaving. I will have to wait until Midwinter, do all of my goodbyes at the Midwinter festivals, then I can head out the next morning with no loose strings. The thought of waiting that long grated on her nerves. But at least I feel as though I have a purpose, even if I don't have a destination, per say. She itched at her arm, absently, letting her fingers fall back to the grass with a quiet kind of bonelessness. I think I shall head direct south to the desert realms, then take a ferry across the mountain waters to the grasslands… She didn't question the ideas as they came to her; there was a punishment for questioning the gifts and Dreams of the Twins. And as the wise one's say, the Twins have had a wonderfully long time to perfect tortures for our misdeeds.
The stars shone overhead, the Dragon's Star sparkling with mischief, and a quiet knowledge of the near future.
Midwinter crept closer, slowly, with the Dragon itching for this new adventure to get started. It took several weeks to gather everything she'd need and several more to get everything into traveling order. Leather and cloth had to be mended, bags packed, weapons sharpened or remade, goodbyes to be said. The village mourned for a whole week before Midwinter, their quiet sadness grating at the Dragon's mind. They are acting like children; did they truly believe I'd stick around here forever, guarding their sheep?
"And I'll be leaving the day after Midwinter." The Mil'vardea rolled another set of clean bandages and stuffed them carefully into her medic box. "I don't know how long I'll be gone."
The girl sat cross-legged on the Dragon's bed, looking thoughtful. Sacred Twins, if she starts trying to guilt trip me, I'll never make it out of here.
But after a moment of consideration, the little girl smiled, her soft, platinum curls falling forward into her eyes as she leaned forward. "The Mil'vardea has never been happy here. I know it, and all those who are know her at all know it. She is not one to run off without cause however; if the Twins have called, the Dragon answers. I will be sad to see her go."
The Dragon smiled, sadly. "Just as I will miss Mirka. I know she will take care of herself."
She must be eight now, The Dragon thought, with a start. Gods, how she's grown. She noted the tuned muscles under the girl's tunic and the wise look in her cloudy-blue eyes. She is so different from me… I wonder if that means I was a good or a bad mother. Mirka might have been her only child, but the Dragon had never really been good with children. The Dragon's sister Farra had raised her mostly, training her in the ways of the female warrior and ben'narri herdswoman.
The Dragon hugged her child awkwardly, a soft feeling of love rising in her heart. It was nothing like a maternal love for a child, but instead, the kind of love she'd always held for her sisters and her clan. My sister is a far better mother than I ever could have been to her. Let Farra and her girls care for her.
The girl threw her arms around the Dragon, tears in her child's eyes. There was nothing awkward in the way the girl showed her affection; Mirka would just fine on her own. She may have been a proper northern woman, but the girl was wonderfully balanced between the strength and the soft affection of the women of the North. Rare to find one who is both; she will make some man very happy someday. Just like I couldn't.
The thought stabbed through the Dragon's heart, into that tiny part still dedicated to Mirka's father. A wandering merchant, who just happened to wander across my village, just happened to beg for shelter at my door.
How many years had it been? Eight or nine, I suppose. He was mine for a short time, and I followed him. I would have followed him until the edge of the world and back; I wanted to protect him, keep him forever. How silly of me to think it would work out that way.
She touched her stomach with tentative fingers knowing well the scar that ran like a snake between her breasts.
"The Dragon shouldn't worry herself. Farra will take good care of me." The tiny girl smiled, bring Mil'vardea back to the present.
She smiled in reply, unable to form words around the tears in her throat.
Ahhhhh, chapter 2. Don't hold your breath for another chapter anytime soon, because it's... :drumroll: MIDTERM WEEK next week. Whooooo.
:mina: