The Secret Magic: 3: Whisperings
By: Karigan Marie
Chapter: Like This
*****
~~~~~
She was standing in a grand field, the wind blowing her long black curls, weighed down by their length, across her face. She reached up and dragged an errant strand back and tucked it behind one ear. The wind, which carried the sent of snow from the north still had the last traces of fall warmth. The long flat plains reached for miles, purple and blue violets turning a soft red, preparing for their winter slumber; it had always felt like a part of her was falling into a peaceful sleep whenever winter came around. She'd nearly forgotten that feeling after so many years in a place where the heat of summer never seemed to fade away.
~~~~~
She turned her face to see black brown eyes, hard and stale, looking at her with a twinkle of hidden knowledge, as if he knew what it was she was thinking. He'd managed to take everything else away, now he was taking away her very self. How was she supposed to fight this, fight him?
But then they changed. They grew a little rounder, a little softer. And the mud brown became almost chocolate; and she knew this man was different. Goddess, what those eyes could do to her. She didn't think it right that even when he looked at her with such utter disappointment, she could feel the air leave her lungs. This couldn't possibly be safe.
~~~~~
She jumped then. Why she willingly jumped was beyond her own reason, seeing as she had promised to never even go near that lake again. Water surrounded her, and she wondered if the air would rip at her lungs the way it did the last time.
~~~~~
She was five again, standing in the middle of an all out stampede of people. She looked around; saw roots bending to her will. She had the urge to make them dance for her. The overwhelming scream from the people running around her made her think they didn't think the idea as beautiful as her. She walked calmly through the crowd, eerily being missed by all the scrambling people as she walked in a slow steady walk to a destroyed market stand.
She stepped over broken wood and glass. She squatted down. She reached down with little hands and picked up a mirror that had been cracked in the madness. She picked up the pretty thing with steady hands, as if the screaming and yelling all around her didn't even enter her mind. She turned the mirror over, looking into the glass. She expected to see young green eyes and a child's face.
When she finally peered into the mirror, she noted she wasn't surprised that she saw an older face, that of a young woman. Brilliant green eyes set on tanned skin on a face that years had chiseled all signs of her girlhood away; black eyelashes and eyebrows contrasting interestingly.
She heard her name being called. She looked up slowly. Just in front of her was her mother, standing with a look of utter shock on her face.
'Jade'. The one world slipped out of her mother's mouth softly.
Jade wanted to answer, wanted to ask her so many things. There were so many questions. But she had to ask one first, had to find out. 'Did you go away because of me?'
The question hung in the air, the clouds beginning to darken. Her mother's eyes, those that had been so loving and caring, so accepting, now held tears of disappointments, of shame. And the utter calm that had been Jade started to crumble. Confusion, uncertainty, doubt, all these feelings began to creep up to her, making her wonder if she really had done something that couldn't be fixed. Her mother's eyes became hard and angry, became loathing; pink lips parted to speak. 'What have you done?' Thunder and lightning cracked around her.
What had she done? Jade looked back down, looked back at the mirror. She was met by the sight of the same womanly face, with only two differences. Her eyes were glowing brilliantly, almost too much. And, there was hot, thick, gooey blood splattered across her face, the warmth of it seeping into her very being.
And for just a second she found herself, her older self, taller and stronger, swinging with all her might, feeling the power in her explode with her anger. The crack that sounded was almost drowned out by the sheer force of blood that splattered on her face.
And she turned towards the mirror, the wooden board falling from her bloody fingers. And in the body length mirror inside the tent, she could see herself, graceful and healthy body, complete with womanly curves, covered in blood. And she was resigned, because this was what she was. The lightning flashed and scorched the earth around her. Everything she touched died.
~~~~~
*****
She jerked awake, startling various bushes with a squirt of magic. She sat up and rubbed at her dry eyes, chasing away the last traces of fitful sleep. She looked around then, trying to orient herself. Amazingly large and tall trees, lively bushes and roots; ah, right.
She'd fully intended to spend the majority of the night contemplating her situation. But once she had found a reasonably soft area to lie down and think, her body, still weak from so many months of illness, had collapsed into slumber almost immediately. She dreamed often, and her dreams were always intense and complicated, but she had grown used to them, to the confusion she always woke up too.
It was still early, the sun not even out yet; just the barest trace of early morning blue light shinning through the trees. Jade rested on her back, her hands coming up to support her head as she relaxed a little. She just starred for a few minutes up into the canopy, wondering about what she had been told. It wasn't long before the soft chatter of a nearby berry bush called her attention. She listened silently as the small bush rustled on about this and that. Jade listened to each word, wondering why she had never heard it before. They spoke just like everything else. She thought so; at least, until she listened just a little more carefully.
There weren't any actual words coming from the little bush, or any other plant for that matter, they were little sounds. Sounds that they had always made, sounds that Jade had always heard, just never bothered to really listen too. They rustled, they scraped, and they twitched and creaked. They tapped, cracked and even whistled with the wind on occasion. And it startled Jade to realize that each one of those little sounds was a word, a meaning. Every time the little weeds rustled and crunched, Jade could hear meaning behind it, could listen to them as they conversed. It was utterly amazing. They didn't actually talk, but she could hear them, could understand them.
She thought maybe that was why she could also understand the firebirds. They're clicks and whistles, their squawks and screeches, all made sense, all fit into her mind so easily. She sighed. How odd was it that she never realized this little talent of hers before.
But when she thought about it, she had understood it before. The night she ran into the woods with Ani; when she had given up on running any further, thought her legs couldn't take another step. She had heard them then. But maybe the desperate situation had pushed her into hearing them, maybe she really needed help then, and the flora had come to her aid, again.
She watched the sky lighten just the slightest bit, could see the edge of the little clearing she had been laying in. Her mind wandered to more undesirable places. She was stuck, stuck here. The thought made her stomach hurt. She wanted to go home, desperately. She missed her father so much she didn't think she'd survive another month, let alone several years. She rolled to her side, tucking her head in the crook of her elbow. Goddess, he must think her dead by now. She wondered if he could survive thinking he'd lost her as well as her mother. She felt her eyes sting and scrunched her eyes tightly to clear away the moistness.
She ran her fingers over the soft grass and moss, feeling some of her tension escape, reminding her that the plants around here had something extra special about them. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the energy that had always been firmly rooted at the bottom of her stomach. But instead of it being so centralized, she found that the feeling had spread throughout her entire being. She could feel the magic in her fingertips, her eyes, her elbows; she could feel the magic in her very hair. But it wasn't too much, not like before. The knot that had formed in her stomach over the years had disappeared, the tension drained away. It was as if the sheer amount of magic that had been concentrated to the one little location had finally spread itself out to her entire body, evenly distributing itself, so that no part of her felt as if it carried too much. She smiled. She'd never felt like this before. She'd never felt so unstressed, so peaceful, so steady; she had never felt this powerful.
The idea frightened her as much as it made her happy. She no longer had to feel as if she'd collapse in upon herself. But now she had this power, and she didn't know how to wield it. She didn't know how to control one single ounce of it. The image of a man lying dead with his head splattered open rushed her mind. She had managed to do that before. Now, with the increase in power she just knew was happening inside her, she wondered how much worse she could do now.
The thought was enough make her choose without doubt. She'd be lonely, she'd be tired, and she'd be isolated for years. She'd be disconnected from the world she knew, certainly believed dead by everyone. But she'd learn at least some control, if not complete. And maybe, with just a little control, she'd be able to avoid market place riots and murder from now on. She'd do anything to keep a lid on her magic. Including stay, for however long it took.
*****
The young girl sat at her desk, working furiously, candlelight shimmering off the white parchment. She lifted the quill off her sheet to inspect her work and grimaced. No, that wasn't right. She tucked a long piece of blonde hair behind her ear, chewing on the corner of her lip, looking the numbers over and over until she found the problem. Dipping her quill in the ink, she scratched out the mathematical error and continued on, determined to master these equations by the end of the night.
She was determined to finish school by the end of the year. She would finish by the time she was 14 at least, but by the end of the year was far better. She'd be as good as any mathematical scholar at the palace and become a rider. She'd petition for early acceptance, use her excellent academic record to prove she could not only handle rigorous amounts of work and stress, but be a valuable member of the Riders, whose mathematical talent could be used in so many different ways. She'd be a Queen's Rider, she'd train, she'd go into battle, she'd fight for her king and her kingdom; and she'd fight in the memory of Jade. She'd push back the rebel filth that had invaded Tortall and show them her fury. Amena Cassidy would avenge Jade, would avenge all her countrymen and women who had been slaughtered by the filth.
*****
Numair Salmalin lifted his traveling pack onto his gentle gelding, sighing in wariness. The heat was starting to get on his nerves. Kitten stuck her head out of one of the baskets, her pale blue skin almost completely healed over. The burn scars had formed, trailing down the entire length of her neck, but they grew smaller with each passing day, she'd probably be free of any burn scars by the end of the year. He ran a dirty hand through his hair, wondering when he had grown so accustomed to his constant state of filth. He heard foot steps crunching towards him and he looked over his shoulder. Eleni stopped behind him and waited.
"What is it, Eleni?"
She frowned. "Troops from Serain have crossed the Eastern River." She reached up casually and patted Kitten on the head.
"We suspected as much yesterday."
Her frowned turned into a scowl. "But we didn't think they would push east, we thought they'd go south, try and cut us in half."
Numair thought about that for a moment, feeling his constant migraine flare a bit. "Have a messenger ride to Hoob, that's where Captain Lenex is, he'll be able to head them off before us."
He turned around then, looking at her. The 23 year old girl, no, woman, looked as tired as he. Her hazel eyes had dulled out to an almost gray and her pale complexion was thin and showed the beginnings of crow's feet along her eyes. Her long dirty blonde hair, which reached down to the bottom of her back, was braided, but the slight curl in each strand pulled some locks free, giving her a very wild appearance. He sighed. Someone so young shouldn't look so old. He felt slightly guilty that he hadn't looked after her better like he'd promised Alanna. The woman that stood before him was as stubborn as her mother as regards her own personal health. He sighed. "When was the last time you ate, Eleni?"
She seemed startled, her hand freezing its petting movements on Kittens muzzle. "I'm sorry?"
"When was the last time you had something substantial to eat, grasshopper?" He said it a bit sternly, but her nickname softened it. Only those who'd known her since childhood, who knew she used to try and jump from very high locations just to see how far she could go called her that.
Her eyes unfocused in thought for a moment, giving Numair all the answer he needed. "You need to take better care of yourself," he turned to strap on another pack. "You look like death."
Her eyes went wide. "Since when are you my father?" She jumped even before Numair could freeze at her words. "I'm sorry," she sputtered. "Numair, please, I didn't mean…"
"Don't worry about it," he dismissed harshly. "Just go get something to eat before we move out." He didn't wait for the nod she gave to head back to his mostly broken down tent.
Eleni grimaced and cursed as she kicked the ground. "Can't keep your mouth shut for two seconds!" she scolded herself. Kitten chortled sadly.
*****
The shouts announcing a messenger brought him out of his officer's tent. Jayson pushed aside the cloth and stepped out into the blazing son in his black and gold regimentals. He never did see the reason why the royal Legionnaires had chosen black as their colors. Other than being royal colors, Jayson saw no point in them. It was just too hot to have to wear them. He scratched his newly cut short hair and stepped out into the heat.
The messenger jumped off his horse's back and strode towards him. "Message for the commanding officer of this Legionnaire chapter."
Jayson nodded and reached for the general message. It wasn't directed towards him in particular, but to all officers. This meant, it announced a major change in situation. The man bowed respectfully and was given water. Jayson tore open the royal seal and unfolded the message. His eyes read quickly and precisely. He lifted his eyes from the message to meet with those of his Lieutenants. They looked worried and eager to hear the news. Jayson sighed. He never liked to give such news, but it was his duty. He cleared his throat. In a soft sad voice he announced, "Tyra has fallen."
His Lieutenants shifted uncomfortably and mumbled among themselves. "His majesty informs us that the Empress of Tyra has been exiled to Tortall, where their majesties, King Jonathan and Queen Thayet have given her safe refuge." He continued on. "Serain now has direct access to Tortall, and direct ports into Carthak." A few curses were mumbled. "All borders are now completely closed until further notice, only those with special access will be permitted to cross. Border-hopping is to be severely punished. Anyone who tries shall be imprisoned."
He sighed and turned around, heading back to his tent, leaving his men to digest the information. He threw himself onto his cot, face down. Not even 19 and he was watching his world fall to pieces around him, the thought was devastating. He didn't think they could take anymore blows. He sighed in frustration.
Four months ago he had had to do the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life. He'd had to tell a man his only daughter had fallen to her death. That after days of fear and loneliness, she had fallen over a cliff to die, what must have been, a painful death. He clenched his eyes, trying to rid himself of the image of bright green eyes.
He lifted himself up, reaching for a book like collection of large pieces of paper. He flipped through them idly. The first piece was a charcoal drawing of an old man sitting in front of a plastered stone building, his old knobby legs set wide apart. His face was serious but relaxed and an old walking stick was being gripped tightly in his hands.
He turned to the next drawing. It was of one of his men, stooped down in front of a small child who'd been lost. The corner of Jayson's lip twitched. That child had nearly scratched his man's eyes out when they'd first found him. He turned again, this time to a drawing of several of his men, gathered around a table in an inn gambling and drinking away in merriment. The next picture was of the Emperor, proud and strong, standing atop a great stairwell, looking down upon several important papers.
He flipped through several more, a dogfight that he'd witnessed in Cebrion, a hand-maiden frantically fixing a ladies hair-do before her entrance into the court, a chess board he'd admired once, a small girl knee deep in mud near a running river, strong healthy boys struggling in a practice dual during training. Each drawn in dark charcoal, their lines thick and heavy but retaining a thoughtful quality. They weren't masterpieces by any stretch of the imagination, but they were beautiful in their realistic qualities, their captured moments. Small smiles captured in the colorless eyes, grace in the movements frozen in time.
It was his secret talent. Well, not very secret. Most his men knew he would draw random pictures, often times catching him working away while the rest of them drank and sang ballads. They thought it funny and odd, but they wouldn't comment upon it, considering his status. And those who had been fortunate enough to catch a glimpse at his sketches as he worked simply raised eyebrows in quiet amazement and went on their way. He'd done it since he was young. They weren't necessarily anything important to him. He drew them when he felt an urge. Sometimes they were of things that just caught his attention, like the dogfights or chess set, and sometimes they were moments that stuck in his memory, like that of one of his men and the young lost child.
He pulled out a piece of parchment and opened the small box with various pieces of black coal in it. He began whisking lines across the paper, letting them stretch just like in his memory. This wasn't to be like most his pictures, moments or objects. He hadn't really intended for it to come out so focused. Slowly, his hand began to form two almost eyes, making sure to show the sharp contrast between dark black eyelashes and eyebrows with light eyes. He wouldn't be doing them justice, his drawings were simply black charcoal on tanned parchment; he'd never get the piercing green properly displayed.
She'd been only eight when he'd first seen her, the only time he'd seen her. And when he looked into her eyes, he'd suddenly felt a fierce protectiveness wash over him, a connection. He shadowed in the eyelids. He was dumb-struck at what she had done, how she had managed to pull the child Empress out of the water after having freezing water and no air strain her body. He'd seen her teeth and eyes clench in effort as she shoved the limp body over the edge of the ice, her arm trembling with the sheer amount of effort. He gave a few hard lines in the irises, trying to get that edge of strength that radiated from her eyes. And when he'd finally pulled them both out, when he'd assured himself the tiny princess was at least breathing and covered, he'd turned to find blazing green eyes. And he could say, even still today, he'd never seen such beautiful eyes in his life. He shadowed in the cheeks, and made the top arch of her nose visible, but not the entire thing. He set down the black coal and wiped his hands on a cloth, placing the drawing aside for a moment. He walked to his water basin and rinsed off the coal dust. After drying his hands, he walked back over to his cot and picked up the parchment drawing.
Jade had been a special girl, full of life and spirit. He could tell, just from the ten minutes he'd seen her. She hadn't even spoken ten words to him. But he could tell. She was special. And that infuriated him most of all. Someone so obviously special wasn't supposed to fall off a cliff and die a horrible death at such a young age. He had been sure he'd be 30 and be hearing bards sing songs about her great deeds, and he'd smile, and remember he'd seen her once, had seen her greatness; the greatness he'd tried and failed to sketch just now. He sighed and placed the drawing in the book with the others. He wasn't an artist by any sense of the word; he was a soldier, a legionnaire. It was simply a way to relax, a way to remember moments in his life when he thought he'd caught a glimpse of something special.
*****
A/N: Thank you so much for all your support. I like this chapter; I think it's more a character building chapter than anything else. And I didn't want us to loose track of those way back home while we focus on Jade in the Great Forest.
Please, READ AND REVIEW!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.
Ok, also…it is….*checks calendar* April 22, 2004. My Senior Thesis is due to our College Registrar on the 30th. So…I won't be doing any more writing until that time, AT LEAST. Graduation …..oh my GOD, I'm graduating college! ….is May 15th…so…I'll probably have lots and lots of work to do until about the 10 and than mad party until the 15th…senior week and all, you understand. I'll start writing soon after that, I assure you. I don't plan on stopping this story until it's done! Just have some patience.
Love ya all.
Karigan
Next Chapters:
6: One Piper, Two Pips
7: You? Syphon?
8: Make it Grow
10: hmm, tricky
11: The Visit
12: Lucky 13
13: Sakina
14: The Lies of War
(All chapters subject to rearrangements, deletion, change of title, additions, and any other weird thins I may decide to do.) SMILE