Notes:
--To SunsetDolphin: I thought that maybe the Andalites should know about Jake…I mean, he did help to end the war. O.o;;
--…going to bring the other Animorphs into this soon. :P
Chapter 2
Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill
By Aura Kage
I strode towards the entrance-door of the white room, the thoughtspeaking growing louder as I neared. But the experimentation room was large, made so in case a morph grew out of control – still I only heard snatches of conversing from the Andalites, as they trusted in my distance that I would not hear them.
…Fighter…missing…
Pause.
But…happen? All…?
Yes. So far only few have been notified of the disappearance, but – The Andalite paused suddenly and turned to me, stalk eyes still transfixed on Fradulan. Who are you?
Decol Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill, I replied politely, looking at him with every one of my four eyes from behind the window. The Andalite lowered his stalk eyes a bit, the Andalite equivalent of a human's acceptant nod.
Ah…the decol, the Andalite said. I narrowed my stalk eyes at him, but he paid no attention to me and continued to speak with Fradulan – privately, pointedly leaving me out of the conversation.
Decol? Experiment? Yes, that was what I was, but…
But…what? Was I offended? Was that it? Was I offended by a name that I knew I would have earned when I left the Academy in favor of being prototype to new morphing technology instead?
I put away my angry feelings as if they were merely scattered stones across a field and opened the door with my delicate hands. Without glancing at Fradulan and the Andalite he was speaking with, I walked out of the structure dedicated to scientific advancement.
It was a rather large building, but was not quite as large as, say, an Andalite Dome Ship. Its exterior was not a powerful show of money, not made to induce a sudden aura or importance. It looked like any other Andalite scoop, only larger. Its anatomy, however, was the complete opposite – I hardly knew one-sixth of the building myself, and couldn't understand a word of what my "teacher" Fradulan spoke of when he went onto one of his long rambles about morphing. I didn't need to, afterall. I only needed to perform.
I opened the exit (or entrance) door and walked out, then stopped suddenly on the grass outside and looked up at the stars. There were so many of them – and perhaps over half of them were other worlds, with hundreds of species and beings. I had thought about it many times before, but for some reason the sheer vastness of it all struck me exceptionally hard tonight – thousands, millions of other beings, perhaps sentient. Millions! No chance that in my lifetime I would encounter all of them. No chance.
I forced my main eyes away from the sky and took a step forward – and then wondered why I was walking back to my scoop. I did, afterall, possess a kafit bird in my blood, didn't I?
So thinking, I focused, invoked the image of the kafit in my mind, clear as if I was seeing one myself. The kafit bird was my favorite morph out of the ones that I had acquired, perhaps because it could fly and was also native to the Andalite home world. The particular kafit bird that I had acquired had kept territory in the area of my family's scoop, so it had been something of a friend, a neighbor.
Of course, that kafit bird had also died a year ago…sometimes the thought that the kafit bird lived now only in me made me feel…uncomfortable.
Feeling my focus weaken, I banished each of my thoughts and concentrated totally on the morph. I brought my arms out before me and saw my blueness brighten into a dull orange, then lengthen into feathers. My arms grew thicker, stronger; and then came a part of morphing that was considered by most (Andalite or not) to be quite disgusting – for my skin, which at the moment was growing only soft Andalite fur, seemed to dry and shrivel and wither into nonexistent, displaying for heartbeats the inner workings of my own arm. Bones were reforming, becoming hollow, then sliding backwards and twisting; veins shook like little Earthen snakes and repositioned themselves around bone; and then the skin slid over again, screened in supple down that lengthened to feathers.
It looked painful. But this part of morphing I knew, at least minimally – there were two theories. The first theory was simple: merely, when the flesh began to shift, the nerves were pushed out of shape and their properties altered, so they could no longer as easily or strongly message the brain as they could when things were stable. When the morph was completed, the nervous system set back into the body's other systems.
The other was Fradulan's prized theory, which he guarded ferociously. He had formed it when he had started study, and I was the first to know: as soon as the portion of the mind that controlled morphing was activated, it released a natural painkiller that momentarily sent the nervous system out of function.
Fradulan's was not a widely accepted theory, but skies forbid anyone speak ill against it in his hearing.
A sharp predatory beak grew from my face, and my stalk eyes dropped down against my skull and formed the eartufts that actually did not contribute at all to hearing and resembled horns bending backwards from the kafit bird's head. My bladed, orange tail split in half and moved forward, flattening into the pair of wings at the very back of the kafit bird. My hindlegs' hooves divided into three parts, formed vicious talons, and my forelegs progressed higher, feathering, flattening. My insides twisted and contorted to fit the kafit bird's carnivorous diet.
And then I was it. I spread my half-dozen wings and leaped into the air – and here was where the tufted pinnae came into usefulness, for all that they did contribute to hearing; for they were extremely sensitive, and with them I could gain a greater sense of the wind than I could simply feeling it through my body. I caught a cool wind easily, soaring head-on, allowing it to lift me and shoot me forward in a burst of speed. There were no thermals – rising warm air that when employed correctly could propel me hundreds feet higher in a matter of seconds – but that was fine; the kafit bird was a mighty flier, the fore and hind wings flapping in unison while the middle set beat the opposite. The kafit bird never lost speed, and its circulatory system was so complex and efficient that it did not easily grow tired.
I soared high into the sky, eyes trained on the stars, and when I reached the climax of my wanted altitude I looked down at the brightly lit Andalite scoops below. A reflection of the night sky. My acute kafit bird vision spotted out my own scoop, though it was unlit, and I flew towards it.
I lived alone – I had moved out of my family scoop not long ago in favor of a solitary life. In addition, I was growing. I was no longer a young Andalite female…but not adult, either. At least, I hoped I wasn't. "Adult" would be the zenith of my life, when I would make something of myself…and from there, everything would go downhill. My reputation would be laid down permanently, with no chance of change. What would I be? Would I still be only the Andalite decol?
And what with Aximili? I remembered him well from when I still attended the Academy – I did not know him well, and did not pay attention to him: I was shy, and anyway he was older than I. And anyway, that was such a long time ago…and if he were in some trouble, I was certainly in no position to help him.
Suddenly, I realized where I was, and shrieked indignantly with the kafit bird's ear-splitting screech. I had overshot my scoop! Grumbling, I halted motion of my right-side wings and turned left, back to my scoop. How could I be so irresponsible? Soon, my mother would probably be checking on me…she was still looking after my health, though I was no longer her little child…
I stopped again, nearly hovering in midair. I had passed again! In fact, as I surveyed what was below, I realized that there was no logical explanation why I would be here at all. This was miles and miles away from my scoop, near the home of the great Captain-Prince Asculan-Semitur-Langor! What –
And then, out of nowhere, another kafit bird, this one a rust-red. I stared in disbelief. The kafit bird was diurnal – what would a true one be doing out at the night? But even as I watched, the other kafit bird dove down to the scoop of Captain-Prince Asculan, tail-plumes waving. For some subconscious reason of my own, I dove after it.
The red kafit bird landed on the center of the roof of Captain-Prince Asculan's roof and walked awkwardly towards the window. I followed, landing less neatly, and walking even more clumsily despite the fact that I had done this morph perhaps hundreds of times. But I could clearly hear the un-muted thought-speak conversation being held inside.
Prince Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill has now been missing for quite a long time, an unknown voice said. We know that he was taken prisoner in Kelbrid territory, and his…rescue party…has not yet returned as of now. Someone should make sure he is safe.
But into Kelbrid territory? an authoritative voice I knew as Captain-Prince Asculan-Semitur-Langor said. Do you realize what going there would do? It was trigger a Kelbrid-Andalite war! I don't know about you, Asculan-Semitur-Langor, but we've just finished with the Yeerk war and I don't –
But don't you realize?! the unknown Andalite nearly roared. The war could have already been triggered! Prince Aximili is being in Kelbrid territory against his will! Are we not going to release him because we don't want to 'antagonize' the Kelbrid? Prince Aximili is the savior of the Yeerk war! He is as legendary as his brother! He is the idol of many arisths! What example are you setting?
If you wish, War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, you may go and save Aximili yourself, Asculan said icily. But how you will do so without an Andalite ship to transport you and no crew…
My mind ignited with shock and excitement and fear. War-Prince Alloran?!
But…what was this of Aximili being in Kelbrid territory? And why was Asculan opposing a rescue?
You know why, the dry, logical voice in my mind said. The voice that I hardly cared to listen to. If the other "rescue team" that was sent to help him still hasn't come back, then that must mean they have been captured. And of course they cannot respond – any contact with the Andalite home world in Kelbrid territory would trigger war for good.
I glanced thoughtfully at the red kafit bird that had led me here, who looked as if he (she?) was listening intently to the conversation as well. But of course, that was just a ruse – kafit birds couldn't understand something as complicated as Andalite logic.
There was another exchange of arguments between Alloran and Asculan, and finally Alloran left the scoop, having lost the argument. I felt bad for that, but I knew that if Aximili were alive, he would not have wanted anyone to come after him anyway. Not if it would bring another age of bloodshed and fighting.
Still, I felt indebted to him to help…somehow. I think if I could help, then I would.
And then – a brilliant, loud thought-speech voice in my head!
You would help? asked a voice in my mind. The night landscape, Asculan's scoop, the sky – they had disappeared in favor of…of a realm of swirling colors, purple-blue-red-magenta. And as soon as I heard that voice, I knew who had brought me here. But I couldn't believe.
Ellimist? I said in a strangely tiny voice that trembled and echoed in the air like mist.
Yes, Ankulei-Shloroun-Dristhfill.
I saw him then, appearing from the twirling colors – a semitransparent old Andalite, dull hooves and wrinkled stalk eyes, a certain hunch to his posture. The maelstrom of colors dissipated – no, darkened. Darkened into pure blackness. I was back in my original form, an Andalite…but there was an oddness to it. I could see ghosts of each of my acquired morphs whenever I moved. When my arm slid forward, it was my arm – but with a semi-opaque coating of kafit-bird wings, cat fur, and a myriad other animals.
What do you want with me? I demanded angrily, looking at the feeble Andalite trotting towards me. He stopped, smiled warmly with his eyes. I didn't buy the kindness he seemed to radiate. I had heard stories of him and his manipulative ways.
You would help? He asked again, all four eyes focused on me. I "frowned," looked at him with three of my eyes while I kept one stalk eye averted, looking at the endlessness around me. The Ellimist would not be diverted from his wanted topic.
Yes, I replied truthfully.
Are you certain?
Yes, I responded, this time purposely adding a little annoyance in my voice. What do you want with me?
The Ellimist seemed to chuckle. I don't want anything with you. I want to help you. If you could…would help?
I considered again. Yes, yes I would. But there was a tone in the Ellimist's voice that I didn't like.
I told you before that I would, I replied again, irritated. But if you would give me that chance, you would want something in return. What is it?
So blunt, Decol Ankulei, the Ellimist laughed.
I don't trust you, I told him truthfully. The Ellimist smiled, and as if he had spoken with that action alone, I understood. You…you want me to do something, don't you? If you send me to help Aximili, you'll want me to do…some sort of sub-journey as well!
Perhaps what I want you to do for me is to help Prince Aximili, the Ellimist said. And if that were the case…then would you do it?
I was confused. I'll admit that. But all the same…
Yes, I agreed. Yes, I –
Falling! Giving an unholy squawk, I flapped my two upper sets of wings and quickly pushed myself back onto the roof of the scoop.
Onto the roof of…my scoop.
And in my mind, I had memories that I knew I should not have had – clear memories of me witnessing a conversation in which I learned that the veteran Captain-Prince Cosolran-Semitur-Juran, his wife, and his children were to visit Earth and acquire human morphs for the sheer pleasure of a sense called "taste." I knew exactly when and where and how they were to get there, and I had to perfect morph available for sneaking onto the ship and going with them.
Somehow, some way, I would help Aximili…even if it was going to break Andalite law.