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."

Etude 8: Vivace Moderato

Eeep this is very late... I've spent a lot of the last few days asleep. Also, I finished up an essay that I should have done a very long time ago, eh-heh. Anyways! Double chapters this time to make up for it! And yes, the attack might be just a liiittle bit contrived. It's NaNoWriMo. So nyeah. :P

The days in the realm of the Butterfly People passed slowly, with a strange, dream-like quality. The sun rose and set, and the moons and stars appeared in all their splendour, but the passage of time seemed unhurried and whimsical. Sarah saw very little of Armand; he seemed to spend most of his time with the Spring Flower and with the First of the Butterfly People's guardians. Sarah spent a great deal of time with Lysshander, and with Seraiel, the only professional chef of the Butterfly People.
"Sarah! I think I have succeeded in making something like your chocolate!" Seraiel fluttered over excitedly, holding a pot of brown goop.
"Chocolate? But -- wait -- where'd you find cocoa beans?"
"I thought that the mugroot beans resembled the cocoa beans you described. The result is very good! Nice and sweet, and slightly tingly on the tongue."
"Wait, tingly?"
Seraiel held the pot out to Sarah. "Just try some!"
"Um, okay." She hesitantly reached into the pot and scooped up a little bit on her finger, and then sucked on it. It was sweet and slightly creamy, with a faint smoky, bitter taste. And it did, indeed, tingle on the tongue, somewhat like chili and mint put together. It wasn't chocolate, though. "It's good, but it doesn't taste like chocolate. Sorry."
"That's okay. At least I know it's good! Maybe I can make a soup out of it... Or perhaps stew some sprouts in the mixture and drizzle them over with honey..."
"Um, won't that be a little too sweet?"
Seraiel blinked in confusion. "Too sweet?"
"Oh. Right. I forgot you're butterflies and feed on nectar... Well, um, I'm sure it'll be very interesting."
"You don't like it?" His expression looked pitiful.
"No, I like it, it's just... different than what I expected."
Seraiel still looked disappointed and unhappy. "I'm sorry. I was hoping I could make something that would make you feel better, and I remember you said you liked chocolate..."
"It's okay. Thanks for trying." Not that chocolate would have really helped... Why can't I relax in a place this beautiful and peaceful? I feel bad... Seraiel looks so disappointed...
"Sarah?"
"Hmm?"
"There's something I don't understand. You're a better cook than I am, but you refuse to cook for anyone other than me."
"I'm not that good at cooking. And I was just demonstrating how I learned to do things, since you asked me to."
"Ah, I know! Come with me." He took her hand and pulled her into the air. "You are going to show me how you make chocolate candies."
"But I don't know how!"
He laughed. "Then tell me what they look and taste like, and we'll figure it out!"

...

"Armand?"
"Huh? Oh, hi Meranes."
"You look unusually thoughtful today."
"I just feel... I don't know. Restless. I feel like I should be doing something, not hanging around doing nothing. But the Spring Flower hasn't told me if it's okay to take off my wings yet, and I can't leave with them."
"Have you tried asking the Flower if it's time?"
"Um, no."
"You should. You won't know until you ask."
"I guess."
Meranes stood still suddenly, his antennae waving in the air. "Something is wrong on the borders..."
"Huh? What is it?"
"I don't know. I'm sorry, friend, but I need to see to this."
"It's okay. Go."
Meranes nodded curtly, furled his wings, and disappeared in a shower of glowing sparks. Armand stared at the empty air for a moment, and then a determined look came over his face. He launched himself into the air, seeking out the Spring Flower.

The Spring Flower looked unusually worried when Armand arrived, especially considering she was surrounded by the results of another of Seraiel's concoctions. "Flower?"
"What is it?"
"What's happening on the border? Meranes just left..."
The Flower nodded. "There's something prowling around the edges, but I can't figure out what it is, and it's not being affected by any of our defenses. Lysshander caught sight of it first and raised the alarm." The realm of the Butterfly People did indeed seem to be in a state of alarm -- blossoms all around were furling closed into buds, and everywhere were the tell-tale sparks of the guardians teleporting to their stations.
"Armand, I need to concentrate on my awareness of the borders. Could you go see to Sarah? She was in the cooking area with Seraiel."
"Um, okay."
The Flower smiled at him, the concern leaving her face for a moment. "Remember that the two of you are the only ones from your world here in Farelle." Then she closed her eyes, assuming a "listening" pose, with her hands spread out and her antennae waving. Armand flew over towards the cooking area with serious misgivings. He'd been avoiding Sarah for a reason.
There were pots of brown goop all over the ground-level clearing that Seraiel used for his culinary experiments. Sarah seemed to be trying to make solid lumps out of the goop -- or at least she had been trying to. Right now she was sitting down in the middle of the clearing, staring at one of the pots. Seraiel was nowhere in sight.
"Armand? Everyone's gone into hiding..."
Tell me something that's not obvious. "Yeah, there's something going on in the borders."
"I don't know what to do."
"We're probably safe enough here. The Spring Flower told me to come down here."
"I just can't shake the feeling that something horrible is happening."
"I'm sure it's nothing." Except for the creepy feeling I get and the way I except there to be mist surrounding me every time I turn around... But I'm not about to wimp out in front of her.
Suddenly a shower of sparks appeared off to the side, and solidified into the form of Meranes -- Meranes holding an unconscious Lysshander.
"Lysshander!" Cried Sarah.
"She's been injured by the 'wolves' on the borders. I know Seraiel keeps some medical supplies here."
"I know where they are," said Sarah.
"Then get them."
"I am!" She rushed off to the side, where some pots and jars were kept beneath the shade of a large leaf. "What am I looking for?"
"Mugroot, it should stop the bleeding. Love-lays-dying for the venom. I don't know what else; Seraiel's on the border too taking care of the more serious cases. Stars! We can't do anything to those things... They walk straight through all our illusions and sleep-traps as if they were clouds!"
Sarah busied herself looking through the jars for the ones with right labels. "Wait, I think we're out of mugroot?"
"Out of mugroot!"
"Um, everything in the pots is mugroot. With cream and sugar."
"What?!"
"It was Seraiel's latest experiment..."
"I'm not about to put that on her wound! Find something! She's bleeding so fast..."
Armand impatiently walked over to the jars and found the love-lays-dying, then gave it to Meranes. "Love-lays-dying."
"Thank you, Armand." He looked over at Sarah.
"Don't take it so hard, Sarah."
"But she's my friend! Let me see her!" She rushed to Lysshander's side. "There has to be some way to stop the bleeding..." Stop the bleeding... I've managed to stop things altogether before, like when Armand stirred up the grass.... Can't I do something about this? Stop the bleeding... Stop it... She closed her eyes, her brows furrowed in concentration. I need to stop the bleeding. That's all I need to do. Stop it. The word became a mantra in her mind, and she felt a part of herself uncoil, then wind the world around her into a tight spring. Tension. The air nearly crackled with it, hummed with it. Stop the bleeding. And then she felt the spring let loose, everything channeled into Lysshander's wounds. And the bleeding stopped.
"She's not breathing!"
"But she's not bleeding." That was all Sarah could really think about. The bleeding stopped. She's not bleeding. I did it. My head is starting to ache...
"You... You must be a nexus!"
"I don't know what that is, but I don't think I can keep this up for long!"
Meranes nodded. "Armand, take care of Sarah and Lysshander. I'm going to find something for Lysshander."
Armand turned to Sarah. "Don't talk to me," she said. "I don't think I can concentrate on this for very long..."
He looked at the two of them, Lysshander and Sarah. Lysshander was stopped, frozen, with Sarah bent over her, fists clenched, gritting her teeth, as she concentrated on keeping Lysshander like that. And meanwhile, I'm completely useless. He looked at the jar of love-lays-dying. It was filled with dried, delicate red blossoms. He glanced back at Meranes, who was madly rummaging through the jars. "I thought you could use any leaf to cushion a wound?"
"Mugroot is more than a cushion. It encourages clotting and quicker healing."
"Well, if they've been using the mugroot for cooking, won't any left-overs be out with the other ingredients?"
Meranes looked as if struck by lightning. "Stars! I am a fool..." He rushed to the tables where the cooking ingredients were. "By the Lady, I am a fortunate fool. Mugroot, not much of it, but enough for her wounds. How is Sarah?"
Armand looked at Sarah again. Her face was white with strain, and her entire body was trembling. "Not good. I don't think she's paying attention to anything else."
Meranes had already fluttered back to Lysshander's side. "Tell her she can stop, or interrupt her concentration."
"Sarah?" There was no response. "Sarah, you can stop this." Still no response. Armand glared at her, then tapped her on the shoulder. Her eyes snapped open, startled, and then she crumpled into a heap on the grass. Meranes started applying the herbs to Lysshander, staunching the bleeding with the mugroot, and crumbling the love-lays-dying in his hands and rubbing it on the wounds. He rubbed his forehead with an arm, sweating from the effort he'd been through.
"The love-lays-dying is doing nothing for the venom... It should at least slow its spread through the body, but nothing's happening! I don't know what to do!"
"What if it's a disease and not venom?"
"A disease? Perhaps... But still, there should be some effect. It's as if these things were completely impervious to any of our skills or magic."
"Wait a minute... You said Seraiel was out on the borders treating the more serious cases?"
Meranes nodded. "The wolves have left already. But many of the wounded cannot be moved. The others have been taken inside by their friends and loved ones for treatment."
"Has Seraiel been any more effective in treating the venom?"
"I do not know... Let me ask." He paused in his frantic work to listen quietly, then shook his head. "No, he has found no answer for it, although he has managed to slow and stop the bleeding as well with other herbs. I suppose... I suppose all we can do is wait and hope their bodies can fight off whatever this is."