Wow... I'm not on page one anymore... that feels kinda weird. Er- it's been about five days short of a month or so… I don't supposed you'd all accept the excuse of writing other stuff and the fact that now that I'm actually applying myself to things other than writing…. I've also been agonizing over other stuff that's been rather obsessive of me, and it's rather distracting to boot. You can read about it by using the Xanga link in my profile. I've also been spending a lot of time at the park, (chilling, reminiscing, playing the violin…) and whenever I get back- really when I leave the park- I'm exhausted, and sleep like the rest of the day and stuff. Which makes my family think that I'm going there to do drugs or something. (I'm not.) And I got my first rejection letter from a magazine, so blah.

Disclaimer: Breezefire owns Parnit and Kertin. You all know what else I don't own. T.T Too much.

Replies to Reviewers:

Fireblade K'Chona- Were you being serious or sarcastic?

Also thanks to- cat, lachrymose, The Great Green Leaf of Peril (love the name), DarklessVasion, Fimbrethil, Amber Stag, Mooshadow, and wizard116.

Thanks to Breezefire for letting me borrow Parnit and Kertin.

And once more…. We love you, Mischakitsune!!!

Notes: The triple lifebond is established canon in the Heralds of Valdemar series. Mercedes Lackey referenced it in the Arrows trilogy, in Arrows of the Queen.

All of us are travelers lost,
our tickets arranged at a cost
unknown but beyond our means.
This odd itinerary of scenes
--enigmatic, strange, unreal--
leaves us unsure how to feel.
No postmortem journey is rife
with more mystery than life.

- The Book of Counted Sorrows

Chapter 18: Through The Door to Summer

Julian sat next to the comatose Changechild, head spinning. Lifebonded? They were lifebonded? How-when-why?

Something that Bard Seneca had once said in a class floated out of the Netherlands of his mind.

"There have been quite a few lifebonds in the history of Velgarth," she'd said. "One of the most notable being that upon which 'Sun and Shadow' is based. However, even though most lifebonds are usually written about as being romantic, loving relationships, most are between quite unwilling partners. Few lifebonds ever end up happy; fewer still end up being romantic, as we see it. Lifebonds are a fairly random phenomenon- they are rare among Heralds and the Gifted, and even rarer still among the general population. They occur when two people meet and their personalities complement each other so well that a bond is formed. Occasionally it will form the extremely rare three-way lifebond, but very, very rarely. The only one with any living partners- in fact the only one that we know of in the past- oh, five generations- left involved the Heralds Keren and Sherril. Before the legendary three-way could occur, however, the third would-be partner, Herald Ylsa died, so the possibility was moot. Keren and Ylsa were already Bonded; Sherril would have completed it. Just remember that lifebonds aren't always what they appear to be, and there is much running between what is obvious. So few songs have been written about the negative side of lifebonding; it's a sad aspect of the ultimate bonding that no one ever wants to hear about- the dark ending to a should-have-been fairytale."

"I wish I'd never heard about it," he said out loud. Masaan had ushered Sendan out, presumably to quiz him about the fact that he could see lifebonds. In a way, Julian was glad; Healers couldn't help with this anyway.

He dropped his head into his hands and stared sightlessly at the floor. When-if­ Rowen woke up, would he know? Could he know? Julian had no idea. But if Rowen knew, surely he'd be disgusted- repelled. Julian didn't know if the Shin'a'in knew of his sexual preferences, but odds were that if he didn't, he would soon.

But… the only lifebonded couples that he knew personally were the Lady Elspeth and the Tayledras Envoy Darkwind, and the Heraldic pairings of Dirk and Talia, Kerowyn and Eldan, Selenay and Daren, and Keren and Sherril. Well- actually he knew more lifebonded people than most people had ever heard of, but they were Gifted, one and all.

So how would an unGifted Shin'a'in and a slightly Empathetic Bard benefit from the soul-bonding of a lifebond? If they didn't… If- when Rowen decided to break the bond… it could be done. There were only three recorded instances of that happening in the history of Valdemar. One- between a Countess and a Bard- the bond hadn't fully set in when the King's Own of the time removed it, but it had turned the formerly matronly woman into a brittle, pathetic harridan. The Bard had lost all initiative to write anything, but had managed to scrape out one last ballad before he'd died. The ending verses came echoing back to Julian.

And so both lives were e'er changed

The Countess inside died of grief

The Bard was left an empty shell

Bereft of love, then lived in Hell.

Lifebonding's not a loving thing

It turns your heart to cold, hard stone

Thoughts in heart are asunder tore

And scars your soul forevermore.

He couldn't quite remember the entirety of the song, but it was along the same lines, and made moods drop whenever he played it. If Rowen didn't acknowledge the bond, then it would be painful, so painful. The second broken bond had been between two women. Of a more serious nature, this one had almost started a war. One of the women was Valdemaran, but she'd been autistic- an artist who produced fabulous paintings, and fairly intelligent for an autist. She was shaych, and the other woman… was not; she was the Rethwellan Envoy. It had caused a diplomatic incident that had only been resolved by a marriage of state between a Princess of the offended nation and the Valdemaran Heir to the Throne. And the third- the most recent, in the time of King Roald, between a Guardsman and a servant. Both were shaych, but the Guard had rejected the servant's love for his own lover, and ordered the bond removed. The servant- Kertin- had died, but the Guardsman lived on, forever scarred, half of his soul and all of his heart missing as he continued, not really alive and not really dead. His life had been a wretched one; the lover had left him, and he could never look anyone in the face without the person feeling an incredible sadness and see insanity lurking behind the mahogany eyes. He died alone, friendless and bereft of any love or joy in his life.

'Will I die like that?' Julian wondered bleakly. He sat next to Rowen for what must have been hours before he stiffly moved his neck. It popped, and he groaned. 'It's cold in here!'

Gingerly he reached out to take Rowen's lax fingers in his own. They were freezing and felt- well, mushy, and there was no resistance in the muscles. Rowen's hand was so big compared to his own; relaxed it covered his own like a blanket, but with the opposite effect. He squeezed gently, hoping to feel some- hoping to feel any squeeze back. There was nothing.

'He may not feel me now,' Julian thought. 'But can I feel him? Can I reach him?' He had to try. Hastily he scribbled a note to Masaan explaining what he was doing, hoping it was legible, and set it down on the table. He shifted into a comfortable position on the uncomfortable wooden chair, and went into a light trace, still holding Rowen's hand in his own. Gently, so gently he expanded his outer shields to included Rowen- reinforced them- then let his personal shields come down, suddenly becoming much more aware of the living breathing body so near to his own. He breathed in, then out, letting his consciousness flow out of his body like water- out of him and into Rowen.

Unlike his own mind, this had feelings of darkness to it. When he was a child, he'd gotten lost at a Winter Festival, and the Watch hadn't found him until a few candlemarks before dawn. The Festival had long since closed, and everything had been dark and eerie. Rowen's mind was much like that. Where was he? This wasn't sleeping- sleeping had the feeling of a shaded candle to it. No, this was definitely something else. He probed deeper- past memories of Rowen as a child, past his defeat by the Swordsworn, past dreams and memories and hopes and into the memory- the horrible memory of Change, the moment when his very mind melded with that of his horse, and the pain and tormenting agony of liquefying bones and melting flesh that twisted into positions they were never meant to be in- his organs shifting and melting and disappearing and growing to form all new systems, and the memory stopped. There was a door, in front of him. Julian blinked. It was a shuttered window. Blink. Door again. Blink. Window. Blink. Door. Against all good judgment, he put his hand to the knob- twisted, and felt a cool breeze flow through him- opened the door- and found himself in a warm field of grass and sunshine and- color. Dull yellows of dying grass, healthy green of the new, the living- the living, vibrant view of the cloudless summer sky over the Dhorisha Plains.

"Bright Lady," he whispered, mind forcing him to sit down before his legs did it for him.

He could see again, and it was- indescribable. His eyes filled up and a tear trickled down his cheek. The color- oh, the color was beyond description, bright and wonderful and then- then somewhere he heard a distant call.

"Julian!" The sound of his own name was joyful and terrifying at the same time. It was Rowen, with two legs instead of four, running towards Julian, trailed by two people who could only be his parents. Rowen- his beauty was magnificent, composed of sharp planes and a strong nose, all covered by bronze skin and capped by a long fall of night-dark hair.

He ran up to Julian, smiling, then slowed and the smile slid away from his face and he stared down at Julian with confusion clear in his emerald eyes.

"Do I know you?" He asked the question in Shin'a'in, yet Julian could understand him. But…

Was this a game?

"Rowen, it's me- Julian."

"I… know you, but I can't remember how. Or why. Or when we met. I just know your name, and I know we were… friends?"

Julian was speechless. Rowen didn't remember him? He looked the- not Changechild over. Rowen was dressed in Shin'a'in colors of bright blue and earthy brown. Canvas pants covered his legs, and a vest was the only thing adorning his slightly muscled chest. Contrasting with his other form, there was only one black thing on him- his knee-length leather boots, which his pants were loosely tucked into and then folded over.

"You honestly don't remember who I am?"

"No," Rowen replied. His parents came up behind him. "All I know is that I know you and that we're friends."

"That's- you don't remember Gehdri or the- or the Change?" Julian asked cautiously.

Rowen looked at him curiously. "No." He cocked his head to one side. "Should I?" He gazed at Julian innocently. Here... he seemed less cynical and more- more happy. And a lot less mystical and broody.

"Yes, Rowen. Yes, you should." Julian looked behind him to make sure that the window-door was still there. It was. "Do you see that door?"

Rowen looked around. "No."

'What?' Julian moved back to stand next to the door. "This door."

"Is it a door of air?"

"No."

"Are you ill?"

"No."

"Where did you come from?"

"The door that I'm standing next to."

Rowen stared at him stubbornly. "There is no door."

"Will you just-" Julian grabbed Rowen by the arm and started dragging him to the door, but the taller man dug in his heels.

"Is this some sort of game?" the Shin'a'in asked.

Julian decided to try a different tactic. "Have there been odd storms lately?"

"Yes, but they stopped after I went out to scout."

"And you came back."

"Yes."

"Whole."

"Yes."

"Not half-man, half-horse?"

"Are you sick?"

"No!"

"Then why are you asking me all of these strange questions?"

"Because this isn't you!" Julian took a look at the field surrounding them. "This field- these colors- I can't see them where we belong. I'm blind, Rowen. I'm blind and you were Changed in the Mage Storms."

Confusion clouded Rowen's eyes again. "Changed… But I'm… and Gehdri... this body isn't mine… Why are we here?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's something your mind created, I don't know. But we need to get out of here," Julian said, feeling the link with his own body grow tenuous. Whatever this world was made of, it wasn't going to let him keep the link with the real world stable much longer.

"Here is home, Julian. Here is home, at least for me," Rowen protested.

"No. There is home. You have Sa'heera, and Nadar, and all of the Heralds and wonderful people back in Valdemar and on the Plains waiting for you. It's the real world back through that door, Rowen. Back there… back there your parents are dead. They never made it past your tenth birthday."

Rowen turned to look at the neutral visages of his 'parents.' They looked at him sadly and nodded. "He's right, son," the father said quietly. "We are how you remember us, but what's missing is made of yourself." Both of them hugged their son and vanished without another word, tears falling silently down both sets of cheeks.

The remaining Shin'a'in turned back to Julian. "And if I go back through that door, I'll remember everything?"

"I hope so."

Rowen stepped forward and caught up Julian's hand in his own. "Then we'll face whatever happens out there. Together." And he proceeded to drag them both through the door, Julian's hand still clasped firmly in his own.

So there ya go. Rowenyish humor... And the togetherness. X.X Almost at a hundred reviews... X.X