A/N: I forgot to add that the song in the last chap was by Evanescence. (Sorry to DreamlndxFantasy for not adding the part about the flames, alcohol IS flammable, so I forgot to point that out in chap 32. But whatever now.)
So after drabbling for a paragraph, I received Wolfcry on the 12th, and finished it. But I'm a little disappointed at something vital in this story.
On with the story now.
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Nyesh stood by his window and watched the sun rise, the glow giving him a peace he had not known in a long time. Violet eyes staring into the bright light, he sighed quietly and his face went blank as he bowed his head.
He jumped slightly at a voice, "You're up early."
The golden gaze of the wyvern princess startled him as he turned around. She was dressed in a dancer's outfit of a violent purple skirt and lavender shirt; she had a plain white melos tied around her waist. The wyvern princess moved to stand beside him, "So I hear you're Nyesh?" she asked.
He nodded, his eyes dull with speculation, "Yes."
Chu'si smiled innocently, "You know…I hear Namid wants you out of here by tonight. She says you are, a target, let's say—for assassins. And a bad influence for my adoptive cousin."
Nyesh brows rose, "And what are your sources?"
"Why, Rose, herself," Chu'si smiled and, with a player's expertise slipped on an expression of mockery, "You certainly cannot blame my naïve cousin for liking you—she'd fall for anyone if he had the looks."
The wolf-panther frowned, "What are you implying?"
Chu'si shook his head, disapprovingly inspecting her nails, "You have much to learn." "Rose hasn't told you?"
Nyesh glared, "Told me what?"
"Of her love for a bookseller's son, oh, what's his name—" Chu'si shrugged and giggled, "She always was fickle when it came to choosing a mate." The wyvern princess swept out of the room and Nyesh caught the sweet scent of lavender perfume as she left.
For a moment, the panther-wolf stood, stunned. "Chu'si has got to be lying…Rose would have told me…I saved her life for Thorna's sake!" he thought, "Doesn't that mean anything to her?"
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Namid sat at a desk in her chambers and stared out at the window at the climbing sun. At one time the sun would have offered a chance for so much adventure, so much freedom—but now it was just another day, just another chance to right the wrongs of yesterday. The wolf princess sighed and put her head in her hands, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "Why does life have to twist like this?" she asked herself.
She had been dreaming again, last night, and this time, the blue-eyed raven had come to her, asking her to choose again. She had thought he meant to choose whom to love again but when the raven perched on a branch, in a dead, dry forest, an image appeared upon the surface of a still lake.
The image showed the Lupine people, the familiar dens and the bubbling spring, covered with a thin layer of ice. Upon seeing the sights, Namid felt a stab of homesickness and, the wistfulness grew as the images went on, to show her the happenings in her tribe:
The dream showed her the Alphess, looking small and frail in the large tent she had once shared with her mate. Her face was darkened by brief, dancing shadows but Namid could tell that her pack leader was not well. The Alphess' face was pale and Namid saw beads of sweat on her forehead as she bent over to poke at the fire, bony hands trembling when she wrapped her cloak tighter around her.
As the woman stood, she glanced outside where the snow fell gently outside and sighed softly, "If I am not well by the spring months, I shall have my heir break the alliance with the Court and come home to her people." The Alphess broke into a coughing fit and sat back down by the fire, continuing "For the gods tell me that she herself is not well, broken is her mind and heart...Tis not what I expected yet it is life."
The dream turned to her parents, who sat in their den together and abnormally silent. Namid was surprised at how their appearances had changed. Kamaria's black hair had turned silvery over the years and her green eyes had lost the old sparkle. She moved with a slight stiffness and, as she spoke quietly to Yiska, her voice seemed hoarse. Her father stood to gather his tools for making arrows, yet Namid also noticed his movements were stiff, and his appearance elderly. Shed noted with a sigh of relief that his smile had never lost the softness, yet his eyes were like a stone, gray and lifeless and her spirits fell.
The strange, lifelike dreams drifted through different people and soon it came to Salem who was dancing in the She'ha'mehay with another woman. Namid could not see the woman's face in the shadow, but knew somehow that she was one of the serpiente. Salem kissed her and someone wrapped a black, gold-trimmed melos around them. The colors, Namid knew, were ones of eternal love, and of courtship. Expecting the woman to be herself, she gasped when the woman's face was revealed. Jewel-toned eyes and fair skin were seen in the glow of the bonfire as Namid looked up into the face of Rosalind Lakeyi, an emerald boa, and a dancer at Wyvern's Nest.
The scene then shifted abruptly to Rakab and Namid felt a tug at her heartstrings as Rak looked into her face, his eyes dark with an emotion she couldn't guess. "Toth'savirnak." he whispered, "Savirnak'toth
Namid translated the Ha'shmla words quickly, even in her dream. "Sacrifice of love, sacrifice for love."
Then Rakab took her hand ands squeezed it comfortingly, "I know you hurt inside, Namid," He looked down as if in shame, but looked back up and in his eyes was a spark of hope, "Choose your path, my itil. My dancer." Rakab smirked and let go of her hand. "I suppose life isn't fair, is it?"
Namid's head swam with the dreams intoxicating images and visions. And still they wore on.
She smelled the smoke of fire and felt bile rise in her throat as Wyvern's Court burned and the blood of so many innocents was spilt. Cries of defiance and cries of pain echoed in her ears as the calls of the wolves echoed. She turned around and tried to follow the cries of her people, the song she had forever cherished, yet it was fading into the sound and the clash of battle. She watched as both avian and the serpiente kneeled by the dying, mourning for them, in their own way, while still the battle raged. Namid tried to run from the chaos, but as she cut through the forest, a still form made her stop, and freeze her on the spot. There wasn't one body--but two--that lay in the dirt, the blood staining the ground.
She fell to her knees and swallowed her tears as she stared into eyes of violet and eyes of garnet. Faces as pale as the face of the moon itself, Namid knew the causes of their deaths: Salem and Rakab had dueled here and tried to fight for her heart, to see who was better. The wolf princess did not know who had won first, but all that mattered was that both had died, whether out of fair duel, suicide or not.
Namid was jolted out of her thoughts by a voice, calling her name. She turned to see Rose standing in the doorway, face blank with the avian reserve. Ushering her daughter forward, she wrapped her in a tight hug, "I'm sorry if I was harsh, Rose, but I just don't want you to regret your decisions as I do."
Rose nodded slowly, "I know, Mother." "And I forgive you."
Namid smiled and Rose sighed, "Mother, I think you should let Rakab into the Court to stay."
The older woman's eyes filled with sadness, "Rose...Your father would, most likely, object to that idea. He and Rak had some sort of rivalry over me, so that's why he left and I had to stay."
Rose frowned and quickly turned away, cursing under her breath. "Why must we follow Father's way?" she whispered, quickly regaining some of her composure, "I hate it, Mother. I hate it that he rules over you and treats you this way."
Namid placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder, "Don't hate your father for his decisions, Rose, you are of his flesh and blood, too. And be proud that you are of two strong tribes...People who love and accept you as you are." "You cannot help but be who you are."
"But why do you let him treat you this way?" Rose asked her voice strained.
Namid replied, simply and matter-of-factly, "I am his mate and he is mine." "A fragment of Anhleh has guided me throughout my life and, if he hadn't, I would still be in my tribe, searching for a mate."
Rose gave Namid a strange look and her mother laughed lightly, "Just remember, my cub, A'leAhnleh"
Fate is gentle and harsh; she gives and she takes.