The Return of Maeve 11
Dermott's Resolve
As he rested on his talons in the pentangle, a very powerful sign of protection to his ancestors and him, Dermott thought about his sister and how they ended up here…..
It had all started out innocently enough, he, Maeve- then Maevelynn, and their father Marques Tristan of the House of Palðer, had been training in the emerald grasslands that surrounded Hen Lledrith Llyn (Old Magic Lake), when Rumina arrived in powerful bursts of whirlwinds.
His father had placed himself before his children to protect them from this powerful woman, though he was twenty-two years old then and his sister fourteen, when their father demanded, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
From there, the two females fought a magical battle that left his father unconscious and him unable to do anything except watch them and tend to his father's wound.
For a time, it looked like Maeve would win, but then Rumina mixed her magics. She used a mix of western elemental magics and the eastern spiritual magics and overpowered Maeve.
As Maeve roused herself, Rumina had cast a spell and sent it flying towards his baby sister. Dermott knew she didn't see it, and with only two thoughts in his head, 'Eryn…I…' and 'protect my sister' he jumped into the spells' flight.
It had been painful, terribly so, and when it ended he was permanently transformed into his favorite flying animal, a hawk.
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Dermott's thoughts were broken as Caipra pushed herself onto her feet and relit the candles as they blew out after each new success.
He cocked his head to the side and took in Caipra's pale visage; her face was lined with age yet still beautiful, yet her eyes were old, terribly old and seemed to hold all the worlds' secrets within them. He knew of her talent in knowing anything and everything that happens, and knew it was both a burden and blessing in disguise. He only wished he could help her more than simply helping the others win in battles that shifted the balance of burden off her shoulders and changed it into blessings that held her up and seemed to make her glide across the very lands they walked upon.
Deep, deep within his heart, in a place he had all but forgotten about, he wished, selfishly so, to be able to help her as a human once more. Deep in this place, he had once loved the hawk form, for it allowed him a freedom none could imagine; now it was a prison that held him tight and bound him to this earth in ways he had ignored in favor of helping his sister travel and find DimDim.
Caipra raised her hands, for the first time to make sure she had more control of her powers and intoned louder than she had before causing the others to worry,
"From this hour until your return,
this candle of hope I will let burn.
My lord and lady, watch over you.
Keep you safe, from harms view.
From now until you return to me.
This is my will, so mote it be."
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o
As the white light surrounded his tiny form, so fragile, so serene to the others watching him, he on the other hand felt like his entire body was being torn in two.
Every cell in his avian body was being twisted and pulled, pushed and ripped in every direction. The sheer agony of it made him wish for death as he felt his insides being squeezed and deep within he felt a piece of himself being yanked harshly from his unwilling body.
If he could yell, he'd be yelling so loudly and everlastingly, that his throat would be forever destroyed by the pulling and vibrations of his pain filled muscles.
Distantly, he heard an echoing yell answering his own.
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o
Caipra, from where she was resting, far more exhausted than she could ever remember being in a very long time, gasped as a familiar burdening pain gripped her heart and settled uneasily on her shoulders.
The pain was so bad; it surprised her by its severity, and caused her to fall to her knees.
Sinbad, who had remained close to her side in concern for her well being, caught her before she collapsed and heard her whisper in dread, "Rumina…."
Sinbad stared at her horrified as Caipra stared unseeingly over his shoulder and into the mists of knowledge that only she could pierce into.
Sinbad, placed Caipra as gently as possible onto a nearby chaise so she could rest more peacefully, and stared into the pentangle deeply concerned for his feathery-friend.
Sinbad turned his gaze to Caipra as she twisted, still unseeingly into space, and murmured softly with love and hope in her voice but still very weighed down by the burden she was seeing, "Be strong dear Dermott, be strong…"
o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o/o
In a watery chamber, dressed in nothing but the best silks and softest furs a husky voice filled with evil intent purred snidely, "Let the games begin dearest."
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Dermott's agonizing screams were so loud in his thoughts, that he was shocked to hear his own voice. His screams, though, continued for a second or two longer as he realized that there was no more pain.
Warily, he opened his eyes.
He tilted his head as the mists seemed to blur around his sight like ghosts in stories do and not look like the thousands of tiny water droplets that he had always seen them as with his hawk eyes.
He cast his gaze all around him, but saw nothing but an empty eeriness of mists that made him vaguely recall the protective mists that surrounded Avalon.
As he raised his wings to push himself off the ground, he blinked in puzzlement for he felt no air flowing around his ultra-sensitive feathers.
Shocked and slightly amused by the fact that he might have to hop his way through this test, he glanced down at his tiny body.
Only for paralyzing shock to overcome his normally calm personality and grip his usually tightly controlled body in its strange grasp.
For he was no longer a hawk.
He was human.
No longer did he have talons and claws, but hands, toes, and toenails.
No longer did he have short legs and an oblong body, but well muscled legs tightly corded and a well muscled torso.
No longer did he have wings.
He had artistically muscled arms, hands, fingers, and fingernails.
No longer did he have a beak or a hawk's head, but a human head and mouth that could actually form words!
Amazed, he ran his hands through his hair and down his chest, arms, and legs.
Breathless and heart beating erratically, he looked about him; desperate to see himself in a mirror.
To see if what his senses of touch and sight were telling him were true.
And then, as if hearing his wordless plea, the mists seemed to solidify into the very object he frantically desired.
Not even thinking about the implications of a mirror rising up from the depths of this supernatural place, and ignoring the warnings deep within his own heart and soul that were screaming at him, he stared at his reflection in awed disbelief.
There before him was a tall, thin yet athletically built man, with sleek, straight black hair with a few braids here and there to strategically keep the long locks out of his face.
There was his dark skin, darker than Sinbad's but lighter by a fair few hues to Rongar's, smooth and soft despite nearly fifteen years of hard work with swords, bows, and other various weapons his uncles and father employed in their work as Knights.
There were his gray eyes, unusually animated by this new change in him and there were his strong facial features with a tattoo on each cheek.
Covering his body were the very clothes he had last been in as a human, richly pristine and wealthy but durable. Over his heart cut into four pieces was a shield. The upper left quadrant was painted a dark purple, nearly black color. The upper right was bronze. The lower left was bronze and the lower right was a dark purplish-black. In the center of the shield was a golden panther with its claws extended and its sharp, purple eyes piercing ahead of it. Behind the panther was a Sarmatian bow and arrow both bronze in color. Around the bronze shield was a golden one that proclaimed him as the heir to the House of Palðer.
Still dazed, he stared unseeingly into the mirror before him.
Then, to his surprise, the mirror smirked.
Dermott, jumped back in shock. That shock quickly turned into wariness as he suddenly, to his shame, remembered that he was here for Maeve and not for himself.
His mirror-self stepped forward, crossed his arms and then stepped out of the mirror. His smirk transformed into a smile as he stepped closer to him.
Untrustingly, Dermott stepped backwards away from the identical image.
Again his mirror-self stepped closer to him.
Again he stepped backwards away from it.
Again and again this occurred before his mirror copy's face grew annoyed and he stopped right where he was.
He raised his hands to show that they were empty and took a half-step back. Dermott felt odd feeling of longing to see his face show so much emotion.
Dermott demanded, "Who are you?"
The mirror-image smirked back at him and said coyly, "I'm you; Dermott, son of Tristan and Isolde."
Dermott frowned and demanded again, "Who are you?"
Before the mirror-Dermott could reply, the area around them swam before his eyes.
Dizzy, Dermott stumbled backwards a few steps even as his image stumbled forward in equal measure.
Dermott's gaze grew hazy as the mists faded and the light of dawn rose from nowhere to reveal a flat glasslike ground that they were standing on.
Mirror-Dermott came to his side and said as a beautiful emerald green field, glistening with morning dew was seen, "I am you Dermott."
Dermott stared at the bland gray eyes but said nothing for his gaze was entrapped in the beautiful greens of Albion (England).
More importantly, his eyes were locked on the younger forms of himself and his father sparring with their swords.
Dermott tilted his head in thought.
This was a familiar scene to him.
Marques Tristan Palðer, Knight of the Round Table, was dressed elegantly yet simply in a dark purple, almost black, tunic with a bronze shield over his heart. His legs were covered in thick yet supply leather that molded to his legs. His belt was black with a bronze panther with purple gems in its eyes and his feet were cover by soft black, leather boots.
In his hand was his curved blade. The blade he had used since he first arrived in Britain nearly twenty plus years ago when Rome still ruled the island.
Dermott was dressed similarly except upon his chest was a finely threaded golden trim around his purple and bronze shield.
Dermott knew that over the hill, near the lake that his mother guarded, his little sister, Maevelynn, was seated on a corner stone studying the magic of the flames within her.
He was positive he knew where he was now.
But he was confused.
This was the time he had been thinking of just before his test had begun….
When his life changed irreversibly…
But why was he seeing this?
How was this, his test?
This had already come and gone.
He had watched his sister defend herself and their father from Rumina admirably before Brietta's daughter had mixed her magics.
He had jumped between the spell and his sister; knowing that his duty as a big-brother, a duty he had done dozens of times before without a thought, demanded it of him.
He was proud of doing so, for he took his duty as the eldest child very seriously.
He was proud of his sister too.
Even now, his sister was alive and training even now, trapped though she was, to break Rumina's curse on him.
His double whispered in a friendly tone as he leaned in near, "You know, if Maeve hadn't angered Rumina, you'd still be human…"
Dermott shot his double a slightly annoyed glance and watched as he and his father grew closer to Maeve…
"You two! How am I to study and improve if you two are bothering me with all your noise!" demanded his younger sister with a tiny grin to dispel the hard words.
His younger self and his father both rather bland of face, normally, grinned at her and his younger self said, "All the better to help you concentrate sister dear! All the better to help you."
Maevelynn, with long, fiery red hair down to her waist and warm, brown eyes flashed him an amused yet annoyed look again. Her cheeks still retained some of their fullness from her young childhood, but her spirit was livelier than ever-even then.
Maeve wasn't one to take an injustice easily. It was a by-product of having King Arthur as a cousin and uncle.
As Tristan and Dermott fell beside her, his double leaned in and said again, "And just look at us…we were young, strong, virile, and had our choice of any lady in the kingdom…and because Maevelynn couldn't control her anger, we have been stuck in that damned hawk form for ten years now!"
Dermott glared again, but said nothing as the scene continued before his/their eyes…
His double continued, "Think about it, all the good times we've missed by taking that curse instead of Maeve; we have missed family, birthdays, Sabbats, Esbats, and friends…and not to mention walking on two legs and talking!"
Dermott tried his hardest to ignore his double, but his words were affecting him…
He did miss his family.
He missed sparring with his uncles and his father.
He missed teaching and training his younger brothers and sisters with all his younger cousins too.
The simple things in life were denied to him as well…
Holding a loved one's hand.
Breathing in the sweet spring or summer's air.
Laughing with friends.
Dancing in the streets.
Picking lovely flowers.
Shaving.
Teasing friends.
Grinning cheekily.
And many, many more…
Once the spell had run its course on him, he had understood, he did, but that didn't mean he had to like it.
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Caipra opened her eyes and said loudly enough for the others to hear, though she knew it not for her sight was still in the mists of knowing, "Have faith Dermott, have faith…"
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His double, seeing the longing beginning to grow in his churning, slate, gray eyes, continued in a hushed tone as he leaned in closer and whispered into his ear, "Never holding a loved ones hand, kissing them goodnight, dancing under the Goddess' Light!"
Dermott winced with each and every word his double said because the words, however much he's tried to ignore them in effort to support Maeve's mission in learning the eastern magics to free him, the words were true.
Damningly so…
Unseen to him, for he was wincing at the scene and not the double, his double was silently gagging with each sweet word that dropped out of his mouth.
Dermott sank to his knees as he continued to watch with dread in his heart…
Dermott grinned as his father brushed a kiss across Maevelynn's brow and made to tease her when a powerful whirlwind appeared.
When the winds ceased, an eighteen year old Rumina gazed at them with a dark, teasing glint in her eyes and a self-satisfied grin on her lips.
Tristan pushed both Dermott and Maevelynn behind him, ignoring his son's protests and demanded, "Who are you and what is your business being in the Kingdom of King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot?"
Rumina crossed her arms, cocked her hip out and leaned on her left leg and said, "I, peasant, am Rumina, daughter of the greatest dark sorcerer, Turok of Gaul and Brietta of Rome."
Maevelynn gasped as she added, "The priestess Aunt Morgawse banished from Avalon!"
Tristan's face grew terribly angry as he said, "You're mother was warned to never return, nor was her progeny to ever return here!"
Rumina pouted and asked with a tilt of her head and wide, non-innocent, eyes, "And what are you going to do about it, old man."
Maeve glared at the woman and declared, "You have been banished from these lands! By order of the Mother of High, Mother Morgawse of Avalon, I, Maevelynn, novice of the Sisterhood, daughter of the Lady of the Lake, Lady Isolde, am charged by Avalonian Law to remove you from these shores."
Rumina's stance became more balanced as her hands fell from her elbows and landed on her hips as she said mockingly, "Well, well, well doesn't the little peasant witch know big words."
Maeve's eyes narrowed as Dermott said, "Easy Maeve…fighting angry isn't the path to victory."
Tristan stepped forward and said as he raised his sword, "Leave now witch before you are banished with more force than your mother was."
Rumina smirked smugly and said with a lackadaisical wave of her hand, "Oh, I don't think so old man…I think I'll be staying right here."
Dermott and Maevelynn yelled in fear as their father was flung through the air and landed on the very rock Maevelynn was once on.
There was a very nasty crack immediately after.
Maevelynn raised her hands and said as they began to glow with a white hot power, "How dare you!"
Dermott, who knew he couldn't interfere with a magical battle, not only was it against certain rules of one-on-one engagement, but he had no magical abilities to utilize in this situation.
Instead, the animal shape-shifter ran to his father and turned him onto his back. Tristan's temple was marred by a small but gushing, bloody wound.
Dermott bit his lip as his double, leaned in and placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "And look there, she just cockily rushed into the battle with no warning and left both us and dad exposed to whatever spell Rumina could think up."
Dermott sighed.
His evil double had a point.
His sister, even now, had a problem with thinking about the situation before going in and rushing to end the battle; but she was definitely better than what she once was.
It wasn't that he blamed her for what she did.
Truly he didn't.
He just wished he could be human once more.
He wished that he could touch his sister's hair as it danced in the wind.
He wished he could hug his mother and father again.
Most of all, the deepest wish and the deepest regret in his heart, he wished he could see his beloved Eryn once more.
This is where his selfish wish was born from: his love and desire for Eryn.
It was ironic that such a pure love could spawn such selfish need and hate in his heart for his sister's past actions.
He didn't hate his sister-far from it.
He loved her more than any other sibling they had. She was his baby sister, and no matter how many siblings came after her, she was his dearest one and nothing she did could cause him to truly hate her in his heart.
Unfortunately, the love of his sister and his wife-to-be caused this selfish, arrogance to emerge. He knew he had to deal with it too. He couldn't let it fester any longer.
To save Maeve, he had to exorcize this demon here and now from his deepest of hearts.
Maeve sent a wave of fire so powerful at Rumina that it caused Rumina to stumble and fall on her rear end.
Maeve smiled with pride and nearly missed the return wave Rumina sent out at her.
With a thrust of her hands, Maeve created a wall of pure fire in front of her that stopped Rumina's whirlwind attacks. Not by stopping those winds in their place, but by stealing their strength and making her fire grow stronger.
Rumina frowned as she stood up, wiped her silky pants, and said ruthlessly, "You ruined my pants!"
Maeve cocked her own hip, crossed her arms, and said in a similar mocking tone to Rumina's earlier one but hers was more like she was talking to a little child, "Oh…I'm sorry, did I…ruin…your…clothes…?"
Dermott sighed and shook his head at his sister's immaturity, but then again what did he expect? She was only fourteen.
Rumina, who had placed a hand behind her back and turned her body in such a way that it wasn't immediately seen by Maeve, conjured a brown spell and cradled it almost lovingly in her hand.
Dermott who had seen it quickly placed his father's head down, jumped to his feet, and made to run in front of Maevelynn.
But…he paused…
Finally, he admitted it; he missed his lover and fiancé more than anything else in the world. He wished to see her once again and marry her and make an honest woman out of her.
It was she (Eryn) that had made him pause; it had been she who he had made himself forget so he could focus on Maeve and help her through her guilt and pain.
Maeve was arrogant at times, but she was truly a sensitive girl who felt the pain of those closest to her empathetically.
His pain, for he felt a lot during the transformation and later on the pain of realizing that he would never again return to his human form without a LOT of training on Maeve's part, was pushed aside for her sake and he never went back to resolve it.
His pause was only a second, but it was just long enough for him to push Maevelynn out of the way but not to get out of its path himself.
Dermott's double patted him on the shoulder, amiably it seemed with a frighteningly familiar smirk, and said as he stood up and faced him, "You really shouldn't care for her guilt so; it has only caused us pain."
Dermott could remember every cell in his body as it twisted and pulled, pushed and ripped in every direction. The sheer agony of it made him wish for death, all over again, as he felt the memory of his insides being squeezed and deep within he felt a piece of himself being placed safely back in and feeling whole once more.
He smirked back at his double and said as he reached deep within for the spark of magic within him that allowed him to transform in his choice of animals, but before he could change the form before him wavered and began to disappear, "My guilt and pain were my own fault Rumina, not Maeve's. But good try all the same."
Then the forest and the memory vanished as if it were never there.
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Rumina, who had been disguised as Dermott's mirror-image, screamed as she was thrown out of the magic chamber and into the stone wall in front of her.
As her form slide sickeningly to the rock floor below, she pushed herself up on to her hands and vowed, "I will have my revenge against you Sinbad! I will!"
Her eyes began to glow a dangerous dark yellow as if to give support to her oath.
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Caipra, who had slowly began to feel the burdening weight begin to lift, raised her head from the chaise couch and said soothingly, "All is well."
There was a flash of light and Dermott's hawk body grew animated once more.
The hawk blinked and shook his head as if in confusion and glanced around.
Sinbad saw that his eyes seemed to dim a bit, but amazingly enough, Sinbad saw the determination and resolve there as well.
Whatever had happened, Dermott seemed to find a new purpose from it.
Dermott cocked his head towards him, and a voice whispered with warmth and resolve firmly in place once more, "That I have, Sinbad, that I have."