Etude 9: Lento Pesante
Second of the two chapters I wrote! Okay, the last line on the intro poem is kinda... bleah. I'll fix it later. :D (The first three lines just came to me, and then I was stuck finding a fourth...)
You make me play these waiting games,
But then you always cheat
And I'm the one to get the blame
Why'd you have to pick me?(bleah!)
All that they could do was wait. It was hard on both Sarah and Armand. Armand had been in fights before, the typical rough and tumble that a reasonably aggressive boy will manage to get into. He'd had stitches at one point, and broken an arm, and had thought he was reasonably used to the sight of blood and bruises. But all of that paled in comparison with the wounds inflicted by those strange wolves. The few of the border guardians who were well enough to talk spoke of them in hushed whispers. "Eyes like the fires of the Fallen Ones." "Jaws dripping with a green, sizzling liquid." "Claws as sharp as crystal knives." And their resistance to all the powers and defenses of the Butterfly People. Nobody knew why they had stopped attacking. It had been as if they had heard some internal signal telling them that they had done enough, and melted back into the fog and darkened woods.
Sarah was not in very good condition. After she had strained to keep Lysshander from bleeding to death, she'd been weak and helpless for the next couple of days, in bed with a splitting migraine headache. And she was even less used to seeing injuries than Armand was. She couldn't bear to see any of the injured except Lysshander, and then only because her concern for her friend outweighed her revulsion at the sight of the injuries.
The Spring Flower was kept busy in her role as main healer of the Butterfly People. Armand saw very little of her, and couldn't blame her. He himself was frequently drafted as an extra pair of hands when tending to the wounded. He was taking a breathing rest, and Sarah was by Lysshander's side, when the first of the changes happened.
Sarah noticed it first in Lysshander. "Armand? Do you think she looks... Grayer than she used to?"
Armand squinted in the dim light of the sick room. "Not really, but I think her wings look different."
Sarah walked to the other side of the pallet, and examined Lysshander's wings. "They are different. They seem... harsher somehow. And a little too shiny."
"Do they feel the same?"
"You mean I should touch her wings?"
Armand walked up to Lysshander, and gently touched one of her wings. "It feels different. It's... smoother, and I think harder. It... It almost feels inorganic. Metallic, even."
"Metallic?" Sarah's eyes widened. "No," she murmured. "It can't be..."
"What is it?"
"My dream... I have to tell the Flower!" And she ran out of the room.
...
It took Sarah a while to track down the Spring Flower, who had been making the rounds of the injured. She finally found her, treating the wounds of one who had lost an arm to the wolves. "Flower?"
"Yes, Sarah?" The Spring Flower looked much older than she had when they had first met, although she still looked very young. There was a certain set to her face, and worry-creases and lines of exhaustion that made her look older. Sarah hadn't noticed before, and for a moment she forgot why she was there.
"Have you noticed the... changes in the wounded?"
"They're not any better."
"No, it's not that. Look at his skin." She pointed to the patient. "It had a grayish, silvery tinge to it. And Armand felt Lysshander's wings and he said they feel a little bit metallic."
The Spring Flower wrinkled her brow in concern, and examined the patient's wings and skin closely. "You're right. There's a change there, subtle but real. I do not think this is a good sign."
"It's not."
"How do you know?"
"Before I came here... To Farelle... I had a dream. I dreamed it several times, different variations of it. Always there was a clearing in a woods, like the clearing where Lysshander found us. And in the clearing were... butterflies."
The Spring Flower concentrated her full gaze on Sarah. "So you dreamed of Farelle, and us, even before you came here."
Sarah nodded, and swallowed around the sudden lump of nervousness in her throat. "In the dream, the butterflies warned me in some way of something coming. It was a great glowing light, so bright it hurt to look at, and it was coming for me. I knew I couldn't let it catch me, I don't know how. And the butterflies... changed after warning me. They became metallic, like machines instead of living creatures. Their wings glowed red, menacingly, and they pursued me just as the light did. I think... I think that is why Lysshander seemed familiar to me. I think she was one of the butterflies."
For a long moment, the Spring Flower said nothing. Then, finally, she spoke. "Find Armand, Meranes, and Seraiel. We must meet at my blossom. I will finish up here."
Sarah bowed to the Flower, and rushed off to tell the others.
Sarah and Armand were the last to reach the blossom where the Spring Flower used to spend most of her time. Meranes and Seraiel were already there, looking worried. "Ah, Sarah!" The Spring Flower greeted them as they came. "Explain your dream to Meranes and Seraiel, if you don't mind."
Sarah looked a little pale, but nodded and repeated what she'd told the Flower.
"It sounds like the work of a Fallen One, then," said Meranes.
"Yes. I know of nothing else that will appear as a menacing light... And that worries me," said the Flower. "The Fallen Ones have not bothered us in ages. And I have never known them to have anything like those wolves."
"Perhaps it is because of Sarah. I saw her stop Lysshander's bleeding by freezing the flow of time around her."
Seraiel looked at Sarah in amazement. "You never told me you did that!"
"Um, I kind of forgot to, and I figured Meranes would have already told you..."
"Yes, it is possible that the Fallen Ones are seeking us out because we harbor a nexus." She looked at Sarah. "That's you, Sarah. Whether or not you know what a nexus is, others will try to control you."
"Then she is dangerous to us," said Meranes.
"Wait a minute, does this mean you're going to throw Sarah and me out?"
The Flower looked at them gravely. "The two of you may need to leave, and not so much for our sake as for yours."
"The Flower is right," said Seraiel. "Although we can recognize the workings of a nexus, none of us know how to teach one. And since the Fallen Ones seem to know that you are here, I doubt we can protect you. I'm sorry, Sarah."
"But where will we go?"
"I have already told Armand to seek the Eyes of the Wind. I think it might be best for you to seek them as well, and ask them your own questions. There is a great deal that is tangled in the lines of the energy where you two are concerned, and only the Eyes have the expertise to help you unravel it."
"You are throwing us out! And we don't know anything about this place... I can barely remember any of my dreams... How are we going to survive?"
Armand put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "The Flower would not send us away to get rid of us. Don't you trust her that much?"
Sarah looked at Armand, surprised. "I... I think so?"
"Good," said the Flower. "Meranes, can you give these two an idea of what they'll have to pass through in order to get to the Eyes?"
"Of course, Flower."
"And Seraiel, you're in charge of equipping them, of course."
"Yes, Flower."
"Go get ready, then." As Armand turned to leave, she said "Wait."
"Yes?"
"Have you... felt anything recently? Anything resembling the feel of the Fallen Ones?"
"During the attack of the wolves, there was an oppressive feeling... As if at any moment their mist might drop down around me again."
"When the Fallen Ones were about to control you, did you have this same feeling?"
"I don't... Wait. No. The only warning I ever had was when I actually saw the mist."
"So this was actually something different, and the only thing you could relate it to was your fear of the Fallen Ones... That does not bode well."
"What do you think is wrong."
"I do not know, yet... I am afraid I may have to consult an Oracle myself, and I fear leaving my realm in such a time of crisis."
"Can - can I consult an Oracle on your behalf? Since I'm leaving anyway?"
The smile the Flower flashed him was sweeter than any he had ever seen. "I don't want to burden you. It is hard enough to seek the Eyes, but to seek the Star's Mouth as well..."
"What is the Star's Mouth?"
"Another Oracle. It is somewhat easier to reach than the Eyes are, but usually in a completely different direction. And the Mouth is far more capricious than the eyes, for all that its connection to the Stars gives it insight into the workings and well-being of Farelle."
"I want to try."
"Armand... You do not need to do this. If you reach the Eyes of the Wind successfully, what you find may well be enough to set matters right. Do not worry about the Star's Mouth until you have reached the Eyes. If I do indeed need to leave the realm, the other Flowers can be brought out of their sleeps and protect my people. Please, do not try to reach the Mouth."
"I promise I won't try to find the Mouth until I have consulted the Eyes." And why did I offer to do that for her anyway?
She smiled at him again, like the momentary flash of a rainbow in a storm. "Thank you, Armand. And I wish you all the blessings of the Stars and Moons. Now go ready yourself."
You make me play these waiting games,
But then you always cheat
And I'm the one to get the blame
Why'd you have to pick me?(bleah!)
All that they could do was wait. It was hard on both Sarah and Armand. Armand had been in fights before, the typical rough and tumble that a reasonably aggressive boy will manage to get into. He'd had stitches at one point, and broken an arm, and had thought he was reasonably used to the sight of blood and bruises. But all of that paled in comparison with the wounds inflicted by those strange wolves. The few of the border guardians who were well enough to talk spoke of them in hushed whispers. "Eyes like the fires of the Fallen Ones." "Jaws dripping with a green, sizzling liquid." "Claws as sharp as crystal knives." And their resistance to all the powers and defenses of the Butterfly People. Nobody knew why they had stopped attacking. It had been as if they had heard some internal signal telling them that they had done enough, and melted back into the fog and darkened woods.
Sarah was not in very good condition. After she had strained to keep Lysshander from bleeding to death, she'd been weak and helpless for the next couple of days, in bed with a splitting migraine headache. And she was even less used to seeing injuries than Armand was. She couldn't bear to see any of the injured except Lysshander, and then only because her concern for her friend outweighed her revulsion at the sight of the injuries.
The Spring Flower was kept busy in her role as main healer of the Butterfly People. Armand saw very little of her, and couldn't blame her. He himself was frequently drafted as an extra pair of hands when tending to the wounded. He was taking a breathing rest, and Sarah was by Lysshander's side, when the first of the changes happened.
Sarah noticed it first in Lysshander. "Armand? Do you think she looks... Grayer than she used to?"
Armand squinted in the dim light of the sick room. "Not really, but I think her wings look different."
Sarah walked to the other side of the pallet, and examined Lysshander's wings. "They are different. They seem... harsher somehow. And a little too shiny."
"Do they feel the same?"
"You mean I should touch her wings?"
Armand walked up to Lysshander, and gently touched one of her wings. "It feels different. It's... smoother, and I think harder. It... It almost feels inorganic. Metallic, even."
"Metallic?" Sarah's eyes widened. "No," she murmured. "It can't be..."
"What is it?"
"My dream... I have to tell the Flower!" And she ran out of the room.
...
It took Sarah a while to track down the Spring Flower, who had been making the rounds of the injured. She finally found her, treating the wounds of one who had lost an arm to the wolves. "Flower?"
"Yes, Sarah?" The Spring Flower looked much older than she had when they had first met, although she still looked very young. There was a certain set to her face, and worry-creases and lines of exhaustion that made her look older. Sarah hadn't noticed before, and for a moment she forgot why she was there.
"Have you noticed the... changes in the wounded?"
"They're not any better."
"No, it's not that. Look at his skin." She pointed to the patient. "It had a grayish, silvery tinge to it. And Armand felt Lysshander's wings and he said they feel a little bit metallic."
The Spring Flower wrinkled her brow in concern, and examined the patient's wings and skin closely. "You're right. There's a change there, subtle but real. I do not think this is a good sign."
"It's not."
"How do you know?"
"Before I came here... To Farelle... I had a dream. I dreamed it several times, different variations of it. Always there was a clearing in a woods, like the clearing where Lysshander found us. And in the clearing were... butterflies."
The Spring Flower concentrated her full gaze on Sarah. "So you dreamed of Farelle, and us, even before you came here."
Sarah nodded, and swallowed around the sudden lump of nervousness in her throat. "In the dream, the butterflies warned me in some way of something coming. It was a great glowing light, so bright it hurt to look at, and it was coming for me. I knew I couldn't let it catch me, I don't know how. And the butterflies... changed after warning me. They became metallic, like machines instead of living creatures. Their wings glowed red, menacingly, and they pursued me just as the light did. I think... I think that is why Lysshander seemed familiar to me. I think she was one of the butterflies."
For a long moment, the Spring Flower said nothing. Then, finally, she spoke. "Find Armand, Meranes, and Seraiel. We must meet at my blossom. I will finish up here."
Sarah bowed to the Flower, and rushed off to tell the others.
Sarah and Armand were the last to reach the blossom where the Spring Flower used to spend most of her time. Meranes and Seraiel were already there, looking worried. "Ah, Sarah!" The Spring Flower greeted them as they came. "Explain your dream to Meranes and Seraiel, if you don't mind."
Sarah looked a little pale, but nodded and repeated what she'd told the Flower.
"It sounds like the work of a Fallen One, then," said Meranes.
"Yes. I know of nothing else that will appear as a menacing light... And that worries me," said the Flower. "The Fallen Ones have not bothered us in ages. And I have never known them to have anything like those wolves."
"Perhaps it is because of Sarah. I saw her stop Lysshander's bleeding by freezing the flow of time around her."
Seraiel looked at Sarah in amazement. "You never told me you did that!"
"Um, I kind of forgot to, and I figured Meranes would have already told you..."
"Yes, it is possible that the Fallen Ones are seeking us out because we harbor a nexus." She looked at Sarah. "That's you, Sarah. Whether or not you know what a nexus is, others will try to control you."
"Then she is dangerous to us," said Meranes.
"Wait a minute, does this mean you're going to throw Sarah and me out?"
The Flower looked at them gravely. "The two of you may need to leave, and not so much for our sake as for yours."
"The Flower is right," said Seraiel. "Although we can recognize the workings of a nexus, none of us know how to teach one. And since the Fallen Ones seem to know that you are here, I doubt we can protect you. I'm sorry, Sarah."
"But where will we go?"
"I have already told Armand to seek the Eyes of the Wind. I think it might be best for you to seek them as well, and ask them your own questions. There is a great deal that is tangled in the lines of the energy where you two are concerned, and only the Eyes have the expertise to help you unravel it."
"You are throwing us out! And we don't know anything about this place... I can barely remember any of my dreams... How are we going to survive?"
Armand put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "The Flower would not send us away to get rid of us. Don't you trust her that much?"
Sarah looked at Armand, surprised. "I... I think so?"
"Good," said the Flower. "Meranes, can you give these two an idea of what they'll have to pass through in order to get to the Eyes?"
"Of course, Flower."
"And Seraiel, you're in charge of equipping them, of course."
"Yes, Flower."
"Go get ready, then." As Armand turned to leave, she said "Wait."
"Yes?"
"Have you... felt anything recently? Anything resembling the feel of the Fallen Ones?"
"During the attack of the wolves, there was an oppressive feeling... As if at any moment their mist might drop down around me again."
"When the Fallen Ones were about to control you, did you have this same feeling?"
"I don't... Wait. No. The only warning I ever had was when I actually saw the mist."
"So this was actually something different, and the only thing you could relate it to was your fear of the Fallen Ones... That does not bode well."
"What do you think is wrong."
"I do not know, yet... I am afraid I may have to consult an Oracle myself, and I fear leaving my realm in such a time of crisis."
"Can - can I consult an Oracle on your behalf? Since I'm leaving anyway?"
The smile the Flower flashed him was sweeter than any he had ever seen. "I don't want to burden you. It is hard enough to seek the Eyes, but to seek the Star's Mouth as well..."
"What is the Star's Mouth?"
"Another Oracle. It is somewhat easier to reach than the Eyes are, but usually in a completely different direction. And the Mouth is far more capricious than the eyes, for all that its connection to the Stars gives it insight into the workings and well-being of Farelle."
"I want to try."
"Armand... You do not need to do this. If you reach the Eyes of the Wind successfully, what you find may well be enough to set matters right. Do not worry about the Star's Mouth until you have reached the Eyes. If I do indeed need to leave the realm, the other Flowers can be brought out of their sleeps and protect my people. Please, do not try to reach the Mouth."
"I promise I won't try to find the Mouth until I have consulted the Eyes." And why did I offer to do that for her anyway?
She smiled at him again, like the momentary flash of a rainbow in a storm. "Thank you, Armand. And I wish you all the blessings of the Stars and Moons. Now go ready yourself."
posted by Selene at 8:54 AM
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