To the Power Born: A Tale of the Slayers

Part 25: In Flight, Freedom

Interlude:

From the first time that Jocelyn reacted strongly to the little so-red-she-was-almost-black pseudo dragon, something tickled the back of Mi Kyong Takeda's mind. Something she should remember, but she had no idea what it might be….

Then, a week after the first time the little thing had tried to make overtures to Jocelyn, Jocelyn… well, it wasn't an explosion. She snapped at the little dragon— and that flipped a switch in Mi Kyong's mind.

Jocelyn was eating breakfast in the nook with her parents, talking with them about some training she wanted to do, and Dark Red (as always, until they chose names for themselves from the mind of their intended human, the babies were called by color), flying by that time, flew over to land next to Jocelyn's plate. Jocelyn, focused on her parents, didn't notice as the baby pseudo dragon reached over to nudge her hand with her nose.

Jocelyn reacted as though she'd been stung, leaped up and back from the table, knocked over the chair she'd been sitting in and said, almost cried, "Don't! Don't do that, I don't want you!"

Then she ran out the back door and away across the yard, heading for Giles's property and Royal's grave.

Chantelle and Whitey looked at each other in shock— and the baby pseudo dragon sat next to Jocelyn's plate and wept.

Even as Chantelle and Whitey started talking in low whispers and Muppet flew over to comfort her child, Mi Kyong sat bolt upright and stared off at nothing— or perhaps into a dream.

It had been from Mi Kyong's Slayer dream. Dancing against a backdrop of stars, dancing grief and pain around two stars, one the gold-white of Colin's super powers, one the violet of Jocelyn's eyes, Aunt Elaine had said to her, Jocelyn must not reject the dark, Mi Kyong. She must not! Her hurt will make her… more stubborn than usual. Yet you can make her see, you can show her— because you have seen. You have seen the flight, and the flight is forever.

When Jocelyn rejects the dark, you must make her see the flight.

"Rejects the dark," Mi Kyong said softly. "She must not… I must make her see… see the flight? What does that mean?"

"Mi Kyong?" Colin said from beside her. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him, tried a smile, and apparently got some result, as he relaxed a little. He'd tensed up when Jocelyn had run out, but Diane had told them all that they must not intrude on her at moments like this, not yet. "I… think I must speak to Elaine." She hesitated, then said, "Yes. And then I must… I must try to make Jocelyn understand."

"Okay, this is nice and mysterious," Colin said. "Elaine was going back to their place to dance some."

"Thank you," Mi Kyong said. "Colin… soon I will need your help to… to reach Jocelyn, I think. You… you can sometimes say things better than I, and that may be very important."

"When you need me, I'll be there," he said, and hugged her before she got up. "In the meantime, I'm going to go mow the yard. See you later, sis."

Mi Kyong stood and went towards the back door, and almost walked into Chantelle as she moved to go out herself.

"Hey, sugar," Chantelle said. "Look, if you're 'bout to go talk to Jocelyn, can it wait? I think it's time I gave her some what for."

"I— no, you shouldn't do that," Mi Kyong said, gently taking Chantelle's arm. "Chantelle, please, I— it is important that this be— it must be done right. It must! The dream, it— I—"

Mi Kyong dissolved into rapid-fire Korean and tears, and Chantelle stared in amazement for a moment before she pulled Mi Kyong into a hug (even as Fog flew in from the living room and perched on Mi Kyong's shoulder, peeped in distress at Mi Kyong's upset), then pulled her over to the breakfast nook and sat the girl down between herself and Whitey, who looked at her in surprise.

"Mi Kyong, what's wrong?" Whitey asked as his wife slipped an arm around the girl's waist and held her tightly. Mi Kyong always seemed so calm and level-headed, this was totally unlike her. "What is it, honey?"

"The dream!" Mi Kyong said. "The Slayer dream, I think— part of it is— I need to see Elaine, please, and you mustn't— Jocelyn must be made to— don't talk to her about the baby dragon, not yet! I have to— I need to talk to Elaine!"

Whitey looked sideways at Phantom, his pale blue pseudo dragon and said, "Phantom, could you call Charm and ask her to tell Elaine that we need to see her, please? Pretty much now."

Whitey cleared everyone else out of the room, then he and Chantelle did their best to help Mi Kyong calm down. The girl had stopped crying, at least, when Elaine came in, moving quickly, but not running.

"What's wrong?" Elaine asked. She looked surprised as Mi Kyong immediately leaped to her feet and took both of Elaine's hands. "Mi Kyong? What is it, honey?"

"The Slayer dream I had," Mi Kyong said, her voice rising and falling as she fought off tears again. "I have remembered some of it, but I don't understand all of it, and it was you that told me what I don't understand. I need to know, I must know— what is the flight?"

"The flight?" Elaine said. "Well, it has a lot of meanings. What did I say? What was happening?"

"I— I am afraid to tell you," Mi Kyong said. She looked at Whitey and Chantelle and said, "I would not give you reason to… to fear."

"Aw, sugar, that's sweet, but it's pretty damn silly, too," Chantelle said as Elaine moved herself and Mi Kyong to sit between Whitey and Chantelle. "Honey, talking about scary things, that makes 'em less scary, most times— and we might be able to help, too."

"I… it is… is very scary," Mi Kyong said.

"Tell us, Mi Kyong, please," Whitey said. "It involves Jocelyn, obviously, and at this point, not knowing will frighten us more than knowing."

"All right," Mi Kyong said. "I… I saw Elaine dancing. Out in space, among the stars. She danced a— a part of Souls, Like Scattered Stars, only… like two parts made one. She danced sad and hurt and scared— but she danced it around stars, like she danced love and farewell around stars later. And the stars, they— one was for Colin and the other was for Jocelyn. The colors— they were for Colin and Jocelyn."

All three adults inhaled sharply, and Whitey said, "Shit!" very softly.

"And I said something, Mi Kyong?" Elaine said. "Something about a flight?"

"Yes," Mi Kyong said. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and said, "You said, 'Jocelyn must not reject the dark, Mi Kyong, she must not! Her hurt will make her more stubborn than usual. Yet you can make her see, you can show her, because you have seen. You have seen the flight, and the flight is forever.

" 'When Jocelyn rejects the dark, you must make her see the flight.'

"Then it changed, and it was about… something else, something I don't remember, not yet, not… not all of it. But the little man, he said that Jocelyn would fail to see if she had rejected the dark, and that could be… very bad. Something horrible could happen, something could… break?"

" 'The flight,' what did I— dream me— mean by that?" Elaine said. "The flight of stars? The flight to the stars? Maybe— I flew a lot, I guess, in the dance I did, maybe she should watch it ag— what, Charm?"

Elaine's golden pseudo dragon had nudged her head forcefully, and when Elaine met the dragon's gaze, Charm was able to push her thoughts through Elaine's concentration.

*'The flight' can refer to a group of my kind,* Charm said. *Ask if there was a flight of pseudo dragons in Mi Kyong's dream.*

"Good idea," Elaine said, and kissed the dragon's head. "Mi Kyong, was there maybe a group of pseudo dragons in your dream at some point?"

Elaine knew the answer by Mi Kyong's widening eyes, before the girl got around to near-shouting, "Yes! Yes, at the beginning, before I met Michael, there were many, many pseudo dragons around me, in the trees and— and Awai was there! Awai, the first pseudo dragon I ever knew, she— yes!"

"Okay, so now we have to figure out why 'the flight is forever,' and what that means to Jocelyn," Whitey said. "Good job, Charm— thank you."

Charm bumped Whitey's cheek gently in acknowledgment, and Mi Kyong said, "Perhaps— I know that pseudo dragons have long range on their telepathy, but not from here to Japan, I don't think?"

All four dragons shook their heads, and Mi Kyong sighed in frustration. "All right, then I will have to— Whitey, do you think you could find a phone number for Mr. Nakamura? Hideo Nakamura, in Asahikawa, Japan? If I could speak to him, he could speak to Awai, and tell me what she says."

"Let's go find out," Whitey said. "Chantelle, I think Mi Kyong is right— this isn't the time to talk to Jocelyn about her pushing away little Dark Red, not yet."

Chantelle nodded, looked through the kitchen door and into the dining room, where her youngest sat at the dining room table, petting both Muppet and her dragon's daughter and crooning to them softly. "Yeah, I can't argue. Okay— but get a move on, will you? Jocelyn's hurting herself and that little girl both, an' there ain't no call for that."

After Mi Kyong had thanked Elaine effusively and hugged her long and hard, Whitey took the girl to the study and had her spell her old friend's name, as well as the name of the town where they had both lived, and he started an internet search while Mi Kyong sat and cuddled Fog a little, letting the little pseudo dragon calm her further.

He found a reference to Hideo Nakamura of Asahikawa, Japan in just a couple of minutes— but it was definitely not what he wanted, nor what he expected. He checked the link to make sure and saw not just the man's name, but that of his pseudo dragon.

(The Japanese, with their long history of both legends about and reverence for dragons, were much more accepting of pseudo dragons in their public culture than Americans were. To Whitey's knowledge, there was no place in Japan that refused entry to pseudo dragons, and they were treated as well as or better than people. It didn't surprise him to see Awai's name listed also in this context.)

"Mi Kyong," Whitey said slowly, bracing himself for a storm of tears, "are you certain that it was Awai that spoke to you in your dream?"

"Yes, it was Awai," Mi Kyong said. She smiled and said, "She was the first pseudo dragon I ever knew, Whitey— I could never forget her, or make a mistake."

"I… see," Whitey said. "In that case, I'm both confused and… and sorry, Mi Kyong.

"Mi Kyong, according to the English version of the Asahikawa newspaper, Hideo Nakamura and his pseudo dragon companion, Awai… they both died in a train wreck there, almost two years ago."

Mi Kyong drew in a long, shuddering breath, sobbed once— then her eyes flew open wide, and she actually… smiled?

"I understand!" she said, her voice still shaky, but her sobs gone. "Oh, gods! Yes, I understand! 'The flight is forever!' It's— that's wonderful!

"Whitey, I need— I need Willow! And… oh, my mind spins too fast! Yes! Sh'rin! Jocelyn told me that Sh'rin was to hypnotize Andrew! She can— yes! All right! I know what to do! What Willow did with you and Chantelle, when you were hurt right before you married, she can still do that, yes?"

"How did you— oh, right, Rose's book," Whitey said. "Yes, I'm sure Willow can still do that. Why?"

"Because she must, and soon!" Mi Kyong said, bubbling. Remembering how Whitey had called for Elaine, she looked at Fog and said, "Little one, would you call Dingo, ask him to tell Willow that I need to speak to her immediately, and call Shimmer, have her tell Aunt Sh'rin I need to see her, too?"

Whitey stared as Mi Kyong, tears for her friend leaking slowly from her eyes even as she smiled in delight at her understanding, leaned back and looked at the study ceiling as she said softly and in a tone that implied that she was quoting someone else, 'he is well, and his new garden grows well, even without his favorite helper.'

" 'His new garden'— of course. And of course he would be well, for he was a good man, and is surely rewarded for that."

Whitey didn't say anything, just sat and waited. In just a couple of minutes, Willow and Sh'rin arrived together, and Mi Kyong, tiny, often quiet, occasionally shy Mi Kyong started issuing orders. He listened— and slowly he came to understand.

I'll be damned, he thought, grinning in admiration at Mi Kyong's sudden surety and ease with what needed to be done. Jocelyn, my girl— you sure do know how to pick your friends!

Jocelyn:

So after I made an ass of myself, treated that baby pseudo dragon meanly and fled from how ashamed and confused that made me, I went to Royal's grave, sat beside his tombstone, and cried for a while.

I didn't want to be mean to her, to make her sad— but I couldn't stand that thought of someone who wasn't Royal in my head. No way. I didn't want another pseudo dragon, damned sure not that soon. Only a little more than two weeks since my Royal, my lifelong best friend had died, and now… now another dragon wanted to just— just step in and try to take his place? No. I knew she meant well, I knew she only wanted to help, but no!

Richter came along while I was still crying, got as much in my lap as he could, and let me hug him and cuddle him while I wept. After a while, I calmed down, and moved over under a tree, sat with my back against it. Richter moved with me, got back in my lap, and settled in for a nap. I sat there, petting him, and I guess I'd exhausted myself with my crying and my stupid, because I fell asleep, too.

I woke up and found myself surrounded by pseudo dragons, and with Mi Kyong kneeling a couple of feet away from me. She looked somber, almost angry, and I felt small, because I knew she didn't get angry often or easily— and that I deserved her anger.

"You were very mean to that little dragon," Mi Kyong said. She didn't look away from me, just held my eyes and said, "It wasn't fair of you. She only wants to help. She… remember, Jocelyn, her kind read minds— and emotions. She knows you hurt, and she wants to help."

"I don't want her help," I said. "I can't accept it. I can't, Mi Kyong!"

"Why not?" Mi Kyong asked.

"I— Royal was a part of me!" I said. I knew that wasn't enough, and I said, "Mi Kyong, I don't remember a time when he wasn't with me. I was a baby when he bonded to me, and I grew up with him in here." I pressed me hand to my chest, over my heart. "Nothing can fill that empty place where he was, and I— I don't want to hurt that little dragon, but nothing can take Royal's place!"

Then the impossible happened. I heard a voice in my head, a voice— a voice I knew I couldn't be hearing, that I'd never hear again.

*Jocelyn,* said that amused and slightly annoyed dragon-voice, *Jocelyn, I love you dearly, and I always will. But I believe that I may have to bite you— again!— to make you stop acting the fool!*

Slowly, against my will, I looked up at the tree branch above and behind Mi Kyong— and Royal dropped off of it, flew over to snuggle into my arms.

Without thinking, I shifted my arms to make him comfortable, and he settled in, just as he always had, craned his neck— easy, when you're a pseudo dragon and are about a third neck— and looked at me with a mixture of love, amusement… and disappointment.

"You… can't be here," I said, my voice thick with tears. "This… isn't real."

*Define real,* Royal said. *Silly human. Real is. This is. Therefore, this… is real.*

"But… you d-d-died!" I sobbed— and immediately, Royal sat up in my arms and pressed his head against my forehead.

*Yes, Jocelyn,* Royal sent, his mental voice soft and gentle, as it had been when I was little and afraid of something. *I died. Just as did Michael Killian. And Christine Marshall. Yet you know that they have come to visit their loved ones and do not question it— so why do you question this?*

I understood then, or thought I did. "This… it's a dream?"

"After a fashion," Mi Kyong said. "It is my dream— and Willow has used her telepathy to bring you into it."

"But… why?" I asked. "Royal, why do you have to come through Mi Kyong, why not— why not to me?"

*It is too soon,* Royal said. Then he pulled back from my head a little, locked his eyes on mine and added, *Or it would be, under most circumstances. The pain this causes… you are not ready, your grief is still too fresh. But you— you make a grave mistake in your hurt. So allowances have been made, that I may… give you a metaphorical bite on the hand.*

"Royal, I— I can't let the little dragon close, not yet, I can't, it's too— I don't want another pseudo dragon, not now, maybe not ever!" I sobbed and pulled him close and he let me— but he also very gently took the edge of my palm in his teeth, just tight enough to dimple my flesh.

*Shall I bite?* he asked, all innocence and good will, *or will you for once in your life set aside your stubborn nature and listen without having to have your attention grabbed in so messy a fashion?*

"I— I'll listen," I said grudgingly.

*A good choice,* Royal said primly, and let go of my hand. *Humans taste far too sweet, and there's no salt shaker here.*

That actually surprised a giggle out of me, and I saw both Mi Kyong and Royal relax at that.

*I am going to ask you three questions, Jocelyn,* Royal said. *I want you to answer immediately, no thinking. All right?*

"Yes, all right," I said, and mentally braced myself.

*Should something happen to Colin, should he— Powers forbid!— snap back to his universe, or be killed,* Royal asked slowly, *would you then refuse to love another man after? Ever again?*

"I— no, I wouldn't do that," I admitted. "But—"

*Should that happen, would you reject Mi Kyong, who came into your life thanks in part to him?* Royal sent, giving me no chance to rationalize my answer. *Send her away because she reminds you too much of what you lost when you lost Colin?*

"No, no, of course not, Royal, but it's—"

*Should Buffy and Xander have another child,* Royal sent, again not letting me explain my answer, *do you think that Joyce should refuse to let herself love her new brother or sister, simply because he or she is not Alex?*

"No, of course not, but that's different, dammit!" I said, getting really angry now. "Royal, you were a part of me for my whole life, until that shit-eating son-of-a-toaster-oven killed you! My whole life! I have no memory that doesn't include you until then, so it's tota—"

*And Alex Harris was a part of Joyce's life from before their birth,* Royal said, his voice as gentle as it had ever been. *Yet you say she should not reject another sibling, if fate should give her one.

*And before you start arguing that silly human obsession with time and duration, ask yourself if Joyce Harris should have been expected to reject a new brother or sister had Buffy been pregnant when Alex died— and given birth to the new child only a few days after.*

I sat there with my mouth open and I stared at Royal for a long moment— then I burst into tears, wept with shame at my own stupid and mean attitude.

Royal… he did as he had always done. He forgave me, he loved me with every fiber of himself, and he made me know both of those things as completely as I knew my name. I wept for a long, long time, holding my dearest friend ever, and he comforted me as only someone who lives inside your mind can.

After a while, I managed to stop crying— and Royal looked up at me, his eyes serious and filled with love— and a spark of dragon-ish humor.

*Are you going to be able to accept what the little one offers, now?* Royal asked. *Or do I need to ask Willow to conjure up a salt shaker?*

"No salt shaker," I said, and sniffle-hiccupped. "I… understand that I was being a dumbass, now.

"Royal… I will see you again, won't I?"

*Oh, yes,* Royal said, and gave me that mouth-slightly-open pseudo dragon grin. *Not too soon, Jocelyn— you do need time to get over your pain some. Perhaps not so long as Elaine needed when her mother and father died, but a while.

*Still, when the Powers That Be need to show you something, I think that I will give Michael Killian a little break— save him the trouble of trying to deal with your stubbornness, that's a job best left to someone with experience— and come to guide you through it.

*And when you have accepted my unfortunate departure better than you have now… well, my kind, due to our telepathic nature, can visit the dreams of the living more easily than many. When you are ready, I will come and see you, and meet your new friend, learn her name— and give her hints on dealing with you when you get stupid. Biting a Slayer hard enough to get their attention without actually hurting them— it's not an easy job!*

"I love you, Royal," I said, laughing a little and hugging him long and firm

*I love you, Jocelyn, and I always will,* Royal said. *Be well— and be careful.*

I nodded, kissed Royal's head— then did the hardest thing of all that day, and let him go, let him fly out of my arms. I watched him as he flew up into the sky, saw him silhouetted against the sun—

— and woke up with tears on my cheeks and a nearly frantic puppy trying to lick them away.

"It's okay, Richter," I said, hugging him and clinging for a moment. "It's okay, boy, I'm okay, now."

Once I had as much of a hold on myself as I felt likely to get, I stood, moved to Royal's grave, knelt and traced his name where I'd carved it on the stone. "I'll see you again. Knowing that, knowing that you… that heaven lets pseudo dragons in? Better, knowing that I won't have to wait until I die myself to see you?

"That makes it better. I still miss you, I'll always miss you— but I can deal with it. Now.

"Thank you, Royal."

I got up and went home. Colin was outside mowing the yard, and he shut down the mower when I came close, came to kiss me. I gave back as good as I got, maybe better, and hung onto him for a long moment.

"You okay?" he asked, knowing I'd been crying.

"Better," I said. "Not okay— but better. But I think… I think I can be okay."

"Good," he said, and kissed me again. "I guess Mi Kyong managed to say what she needed to say after all, didn't need my help."

"She said it," I agreed. I snuggled closer to him for a moment and said, "She said it, and she did have help— but it wasn't exactly what she expected to have for help, I don't think.

"So long as it worked," he said, and kissed the top of my head. "So… you seem a little more under control. Are you going to be able to stop being short with that little dragon, now?"

"I am," I said. "I'm on my way to apologize to her now, see if… if my stupid is forgivable, if she still wants… wants what I hope like hell she wants."

"She will," Colin said. He tilted my face up and grinned at me. "Pseudo dragons are smart as a species. She'll forgive you. Hell, they're empathic and telepathic— she probably never actually held it against you.

"Go. Find out her name— I'll expect an introduction when I'm done here."

I went the rest of the way to the house, went in the back to find Mom, Dad and Mi Kyong sitting at the table in the breakfast nook. I didn't say anything, just pulled Mi Kyong to her feet and hugged her as tightly as I ever had. When we finally broke— and that took a while— I spoke.

"Thank you, Mi Kyong," I said. "I'm sorry I made you do that— but damned glad you did it. How did you know? And how did you do it?"

"I knew because of that Slayer dream I had, the one that told me what Warren is, and that Drusilla is with him," Mi Kyong said, holding my hands and smiling at me. "It started with a great many pseudo dragons being there, telling me that it was all right, that I would see scary things, but that I could trust my guide and would not be hurt. Among them was Awai, the first pseudo dragon I ever knew. When I decided to try to contact her, to find out if she knew what I was supposed to do, your father found out that she and her human had died a couple of years ago— sad, but I know that they still exist, and are well and happy.

"But knowing that, knowing that Awai's life had ended, but she had not, that let me know that Royal would be the same. I had Sh'rin hypnotize me into sleeping, sleeping and dreaming of Awai. That led me to the flight of dragons who wait in the dream lands, and that to Awai— and Royal. Then Willow simply pulled you into my dream— and you know the rest."

"Yeah," I said, and hugged her again. "Okay— I have an apology to make. Anyone know where the little dragon is?"

Daddy grinned at me and said, "Point deduction for failure to be aware of your surroundings, young lady. High and left."

I looked up and left, saw that little dragon— such a dark red, it was… well, eye-catching. And gorgeous.

She was sitting on the shade of the light over the table in the breakfast nook, her claws in the little holes in the shade that let hot air out, watching me with those brass-colored eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said to her. "I am so sorry I was mean. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just— I was being—"

*Not mean.* She flew over and landed on my extended palm, locked her eyes on mine, and sent a wave of reassurance and understanding. *Not mean. Hurt. In pain. Not blame.*

"Thank you," I said. I hesitated, then said, "I still wish I hadn't been so stupid."

*Hurt makes stupid, so not blame,* she sent. I reached out to stroke the scales between her wings— a favorite spot for petting on all pseudo dragons, I think— and she started a really high-pitched version of the cackling, bubbling noise of a pseudo dragon purr and said, *I am Ripley. I stay with you, Jocelyn.*

I laughed-sobbed-sniffled, knowing she'd taken the name from my favorite female character from any movies ever, the heroine of the old Alien series of movies and said, "Yes. Yes, please!"

I turned to my family and said, "This is Ripley. She's going to be my friend, now."

Then I sat down at the table in the nook, put Ripley on my shoulder, and said, "We're hungry. When's lunch?"

I spent the day with Ripley, showing her my room, the glade where Royal was buried, introducing her to everyone. She loved Richter on sight, and vice-versa, and after lunch, we three went for a romp around the yards, played like children, then sat together and just… communed silently for a while. Eventually, I fell asleep with my head on Richter's side— and Ripley fell asleep perched between my puppy's ears. Mom got a picture— a print of it hangs on the wall in my bedroom still.

Ripley didn't try to take Royal's place— but she filled a great part of the void inside me where he'd been, filled it differently than he had, left some places empty, filled up other places that he hadn't. It wasn't like having Royal back— it was very different… but just as satisfying.

For a couple of weeks, Warren and the rest stayed quiet. I don't know if he was making plans or licking his wounds, or having a really long temper tantrum, or what— but we had a respite from him, and that was in no way a bad thing.

When he did start trying to monkey with us again, it was really, really subtle— and it was the pseudo dragons who caught him at it. Mi Kyong helped, knew what it meant— but it was the dragons that caught him.